Legends of Darkover

 

Chapter 3

-oOo-

Inculcare was growing impatient.  Gwynn had done his work, but the prey must have been creeping on all fours.  The audiodot revealed two persons were coming.  One was an underkeeper tentatively identified as Catriona Castamir.  The other was her escort, some menial by the name of Danilo. 

He was debating with himself about the value of this 'underkeeper.'  She might not be knowledgeable or senior enough to know much about laran weaponry.  On the other hand trying to kidnap and interrogate an experienced keeper might be far more risky.  He glanced at his chronometer again, noticing that Ristrin and Torqus had failed to check in.  “Call Ristrin,” he ordered Nelus.

The medic wore a disquieted expression.  “My lord, I have bad news.  The medical monitors of both scientists have gone flat.”

“What?  Is your medisensor no longer reading?  The power cells on both their units can't have died at the same time.”

“No, my lord.  My medisensor showed the pulse rate, blood pressure, brain activity, and oxygen intake of both scientists dropping to zero in about a minute.  Normally such a steady decline indicates death, not a power failure.  I've tried to pinpoint them with a life-force detector but cannot find them.”

“Call troopers Gunloinne and Tarma,” Inculcare barked. 

“No response, my lord.  I can't detect them either.”

“Keep trying.”  This was very bad news.  Lord Plagueis was going to be pissed.  Ristrin was expendable, but Torqus was not.  They absolutely could not afford to lose the geologist right now.  “What was their last known position?”

“The shores of Lake Hali,” said Nelus.  “The Federation has lost three scientific parties of their own to the lake.  It is a known hazard.  The Darkovans do not allow travelers to go  there.”

/A known hazard?  How could the lake be a known hazard if I didn't know about it?/ thought Inculcare with ire.  /I ALWAYS plan my expeditions well./

Lord Plagueis was going to hold him responsible.  “All right, then.  They can hail the ship if they are still alive.”

It was true the Dark Lord of the Sith possessed the ominous habit of destroying those who failed him.  Nonetheless the High Inquisitor was essential to the expedition's success.  After all, who would Plagueis employ in his stead?  That clown Gladius?  Nonsense.  The blundering Tyranus, who kept killing prisoners with his carelessness?  Ridiculous.  Or Xiphos, who--

Or Xiphos, who was not incompetent at all.  Inculcare had chosen Xiphos for his apprentice because of Xiphos' interest in the art of interrogation and his previously impeccable competence.

Inculcare decided to drop Lord Plagueis a message about Xiphos' mistake with the troopers.  Ratting on your own apprentice was somewhat frowned upon among the Sith, but if it protected the master from harm--useful. 

-oOo-

 

The night was illuminated by a single pine-knot torch creeping along the way to Grasvale, moving slowly along the rocky and sloping path.  Danilo was on foot, holding the torch in one hand and leading Catriona’s chervine by the reins with the other.  Though Catriona knew the trail, even she had difficulty finding the way at night.  Danilo was forced to hold his torch low to find good footing for the chervine.  The burning pine-knot flared up and spat beads of hot resin all over his fingers.  He cursed, remembering too late the leronis behind him.  “Sorry, Catriona.  My manners have deteriorated.  This darkness seems to swallow my torchlight about the level of your chervine’s knees.” 

“Do not worry about me.  My father’s tongue is worse.  I will assume you were brought up in crystalline cristoforo purity and learned the bad language from Dom Ardais.”

“The guardsmen’s barracks, mostly.  Dom Ardais rarely swears, though the people around him do it quite often.”  He glanced skywards.  Darkover’s two largest moons, Liriel and Kyrrdis, had both risen to cast a faint pair of angled shadows, though their light helped little.

“No message from Domna Aillard, yet?”

“None.  I dare not contact her if she is in the middle of healing.  It might cost Gwynn his life if he is very sick.”

They moved in silence for a while, concentrating on the meandering path.

It was growing colder.  Danilo's pacing, plus the sturdy travel leathers he’d donned at Ardais kept him warm, but Catriona was tugging her mantle around herself.  Both of them could tell Autumn was turning into winter.  The hillside they were traveling along sloped down towards the western shore of Lake Hali.  Danilo had seen the lake during previous trips to and from the capital at Thendara, though hadn't noticed anything except thick blue mists masking the lake's surface. 

“The lake is active tonight,” Catriona said.  “Something has disturbed it.”

“It is possible to tell?”

“The mists are rising unusually high.  You can see their edges in the moonlight.  If you approach too close the mists will trick your sense of direction and lure you in to your death.  Some people who have been brushed by the mists claim to hear voices.”

Danilo noticed an odd glow off to the left beyond Lake Hali.  It was faint and oblong, and seemed to stretch for a good mile or so in length.  “What is that?” he asked.   

“The Forbidden City.”

Danilo raised his eyebrows.  He’d never seen the Forbidden City, and wished it were daytime so he could have a better view.  The Forbidden City was the old city of Hali, destroyed back in the days of the Hundred Kingdoms by the great laran weapons now banned by the Compact.  No one was permitted to journey to the ruins by order of the Comyn.  Anyone who stayed there longer than a day would sicken and die, and Regis had once told Danilo that many spots inside the ruins were still contaminated by radiation. 

“What causes the light?  Do your sisters at Hali know?” 

“No one knows.  Domna Ysabet suspects it is leftover energy from the laran wars.”

“I see Grasvale dwells in an unpleasant location.  Surely they haven't placed their village right up against the old ruins?”

“No, the village is farther west.  The trail angles away.”  

/This journey is more ominous than I like,/ Danilo reflected.  He changed the  subject.  “How is your family?  I am sorry I have not had the time to ask you.”  He did not remember Catriona’s father very well, for at that age Danilo was more interested in dangling from tree limbs and begging cake from the housekeeper.  During family visits Dom Marius would always disappear with Danilo's father, talking about chervines and hawks as they tramped the fields together to inspect the crops.  Domna Luciella he recollected more clearly.  She was loud and fussy, deploring the absence of his mother in a way that would have gotten on his nerves if Domna Syrtis had lived long enough for Danilo to remember her.  Luciella complained about his shyness like it was something unnatural—in her family, it was—and entrusted him to the semi-disgusted company of his older cousins, Valentine and Fionn, who promptly sought out any sort of fun that threatened both life and limb.  When Danilo would return dirty and exhausted for supper, Domna Luciella would exclaim about his filth and wayward hair—Syrtis hair was not readily tameable except by severe scissoring--and pronounce her dear, obedient sons to be the good examples Danilo ought to be living up to.  Despite having laran, both Marius and Luciella were oblivious to the constant trouble their sons got into, trouble that would have gotten Danilo killed by his own father.  Dom Felix Syrtis always knew without speaking whenever Danilo had done anything bad, though he never claimed to possess laran.   At an early age, Danilo had decided that laran was overrated.

As for Catriona and her younger sisters Marisela and Taniquel, Danilo remembered them best by their habit of sneaking up behind him and shouting or poking him, or dropping something down his neck or on his head.  He'd go tearing after them in a fury while they led him on a chase all over the estate, until he wondered what he was doing and left off.  It was with complete stupefaction that he listened while Valentine explained the girls pestered him because they liked him, and that Taniquel and Marisela both had crushes on him.  Sometimes Catriona had taken pity on him and left off teasing, and snuck him sweets as an apology when the girls annoyed him too much.  He didn’t think she was too bad compared to her sisters.

“Marisela has entered the tower at Neskaya to be trained as a monitor.  She has the Ridenow gift, and I am pleased for her.”

“Her talent for empathy must have wakened late,” said Danilo.  “She seemed undisturbed by all the spiders she dropped down the neck of my shirt, either for their sake or mine.”

“We often wondered how she could coax so many spiders into her hands, and do so without flinching.  As for Taniquel, she has not yet married you, as you have undoubtedly noticed.  She still speaks of you with affection.  She is to be tested for laran soon.  Valentine is married and farming some of my father’s land, and Fionn is serving with the guards in Thendara–he finished his training before you entered.”

“I’m surprised they’re still alive,” said Danilo with a frankness he'd only use with a relative.  

Catriona gave a low laugh.  “I see what you mean.” Danilo could feel her eyes going to  his back.  “Although in the last two years, you have managed to outdo them for trouble.”

Danilo reddened.  The annoying thing was, she was right.

-I am sorry.  That was tactless.-

“It does not matter,” said Danilo aloud, not wishing her to see into his mind at the moment.

“How are you getting along with Dom Ardais?  If there is a problem I would help you, and so would my family.  My mother and father were very disturbed to hear about your adoption by Dom Ardais because of his bad reputation.” 

Danilo sighed.  “He has sworn to behave himself, and kept the oath.  I do not think--”

The chervine gave a snort.  Danilo stopped to pat him.

“Danilo?” Catriona said.  Her tone caught his attention.  She was pointing towards the lake.  “The wind seems to have shifted,” she said as if trying to reassure herself. 

Blue mists were creeping up the slope like many outstretched fingers, working slowly towards the travelers.

“This must happen from time to time.  We must go a little faster,” Danilo said reassuringly.

-That is not the problem.  Look ahead and behind.-

A finger of fog was lying across the path ahead like some fallen tree trunk.  Behind them the mists had already blocked the trail.  Danilo checked the slope on their right for a way to escape, but the hillside there was almost vertical. 

“Swing up behind me,” said Catriona.  “We’re going to gallop through.”  She gathered the reins in her hands.  “It’s only a short distance.  Do not inhale as we go through the mist.  Domna Ysabet thinks that may be the danger.  Ready?”

“Wait, what do I hang on to?  You have not been trained in the old way?” Danilo asked with a nervous laugh.  He really did not care to be blasted right off the chervine for the crime of touching a keeper.

“Not quite.  Grasp my shoulder.  There will be no danger as long as the cloth is between us.” 

/Holy Bearer of Burdens, she HAS, and this is not the time to find out./  Her fear alone might trigger the reflex.  He tried to attune his own laran to hers so he wouldn’t feel so alien to her, and delicately placed the hand that wasn’t holding the torch on her shoulder.

“Ready?” she asked again. 

-Still alive.-

-Stop that.  I will not kill you, silly boy.  Annoying relatives I slay with crickets in their porridge.  Hold your breath as we speed up.-

They started off at a trot, Danilo kicking when the chervine refused to move into a gallop.  They sped faster and held their breath as they flew through the finger of mist. 

The passage seemed to take much longer than it should have.  Total darkness enveloped them as they passed through.  Danilo also heard a voice.

-Syrtis, you won’t escape me again.  You must serve your time with me, as all do.  Why do you always flee to Hastur when you die?- 

-He was running inside an underground cavern towards a deep chasm.  On the other side stood a metallic spider-thing and a man with a Terranan blaster.  The man fired.  A spray of charred blood flew from Danilo's leg, and he knew he was badly wounded.  Feebly, he tried to leap the chasm, knowing he had to face the man and the spider because as bad as they were, the terror of the thing chasing him was worse.  He fell short, falling into the chasm, into nothingness.-

They were through the mists.  The torch in Danilo’s hand sputtered out. 

He flung the pine-knot aside in panic and summoned an angry flare of hand-light.  He had not done this before because he had not the proper gift for sustaining a flame for more than a few minutes, and it drained his laran quickly.  Catriona could have held a hand-light much longer, but she needed to preserve all her Aillard gift for the healing. 

His heart was beating wildly.  /It was just a hallucination.  I am still alive and whole.  It was only a mind-trick./

The hand-light was bright enough to allow them to flash quickly over the trail, and Danilo became apprehensive at their breakneck speed.  “Catriona? I think that’s enough.  We are out of range.  The last of the Lake is behind us.”

They were heading up a hill, the chervine’s sides heaving hard under his legs.

-Catriona?-

At the top she halted the chervine. 

-Let go!-

Danilo released her shoulder instantly.  Through his laran he could feel the wild, panicked stir in her channels.  She was close to blasting him, despite her promise.  He slid off the chervine.  “Catriona?  Are you hurt in any way?  Did you see or hear anything as we passed through?  I saw a disturbing vision.”

Her lips were pressed tightly together.  He could have read her mind without her knowing, but he did not wish to intrude.  Her fingers were trembling hard as she gripped the reins. 

“What did you see?” Catriona demanded.  He gave her an emotionless recitation.

After a long silence she spoke.  “I was in a Terranan spaceship of some sort.  I could hear you screaming.  Some Terranan stuck needles into me and I felt sick, knowing if I succumbed, all was lost.  Then he tried to destroy my laran in the old way and I could not fight him off.” 

Her voice broke.  'The old way' meant rape.  

“It was only a hallucination,” he told her firmly.  “We're safe and unharmed.  It was only a vision that plays on the fears.  Others have experienced the lake's visions and lived to describe them.”

His hand-light flickered out just then, startling them both and leaving Danilo weak and drained.  Muttering, he searched inside the chervine’s saddlebag for another pine-knot.  When he located it, he heard a scratch.  A small flame appeared in Catriona’s shaking hand.

“What?” he asked foggily.

-Terranan matches.  We do not reject all Terranan things at Hali.-

“Please speak aloud.  My laran is barely working at the moment and I almost couldn’t hear you.”  He took the little box from her with gratitude, though he had to light several matches to make the knot hot enough to burn. 

“Ride behind me.  Your shoulders are sagging.”

“No, the chervine is tired too, and he'll be slower with a double weight.  We must be close to Grasvale by now.”

“We should be.  Look.  I see candlelight in windows.”

This cheered Danilo.  “Catriona, do you need to rest?”

“What for?  We're almost there.”

“I meant something else.  Your hands--”

“You ridiculous boy.  This is not fear.  I’m freezing.  My mantle doesn’t keep the cold out at all.  Why aren’t you shivering like me?”   

“Wholesome exercise and Nevarsin.  The cristoforo monks taught me how to regulate my body temperature by will, so I stay warm.”

“Nonsense.  You’re just better dressed and you have a burning pint-knot to heat your hand.”

“The other hand is warm too,” he assured her.

“What?  I am skeptical.  Let me see.”

“Do you promise not to blast me?”

Scoffing, she plucked his hand from the reins and held it between hers.  “Quiet, you.  My hands need a heater, so be warm.  I told you I wasn’t trained in the old way, just close to it.  My protections are voluntary.  Then again maybe I should blast you.  You’re much too comfortable.”

He grinned at her. 

-oOo-

Darth Inculcare was watching the pair descend the hill through his night-vision binoculars.  He spoke into his wristcom to the circle of hidden troopers, knowing his words were also being transmitted up to Lord Plagueis.

“The girl from the tower is riding a chervine.  A boy is leading the animal.  He is to be killed and the girl stunned.  Remember she must not be injured when she falls from the animal, so grab her quickly.  Recheck the settings on your weapons.”

Inculcare raised the binoculars to his eyes again.  Catriona was rubbing Danilo's hand between hers.  The High Inquisitor raised an eyebrow.  “My lord?” he said through the link to Lord Plagueis.  “The targets appear to be flirting.  If our intelligence about these keepers is correct, this is atypical, but of possible use.  The girl may need extra persuasion and the boy could be the leverage, if he is indeed her boyfriend.  I would also like another Darkovan subject for my experiments.”

“Agreed.  Capture them both,” said Plagueis.

“There is a change of plans,” said Inculcare.  “Move your settings to stun and capture the boy alive.  I will give a downcount of five, then all will fire.”

-oOo-

“We should move on,” Catriona said after frictioning his hand.  “Wait.  Domna Ysabet has just contacted me.”  Her eyes grew vague.

Danilo had to fight off the reflex to listen in, one of the unwelcome quirks of his Ardais dona.  His talent kept trying to read minds even when he'd rather not.  Despite his efforts to hold back his curious, probing gift, he still heard something.

-downcount of five, all will fire-

The mental voice was faint.

“This is very bad!” Catriona exclaimed.  “Domna Ysabet says Gwynn has died of some unknown poison.  She warns the situation at Grasvale may not be what it seems.”

-Five.  Four.-

“Catriona,” said Danilo, “we’re in danger.”  He dropped the chervine’s reins and slapped the side of the animal hard.  The next second Catriona was flying away from the village. 

-Threetwoone.-

He ran after, sensing something in the bushes off to his left, but he had no time to react.  A flash of light dropped him on his face, rolling him along the ground.  Catriona was hit a moment later.  The charging troopers caught her before she fell. 

“The operation is a success, my lord,” said Inculcare into his wristcom. 

“Good.  Bring them up.”  Plagueis cut the connection. 

A few minutes later Gladius came by with the girl on a medistretcher.  As expected, Inculcare discovered the Force around her.  He injected her with a sedative.  The party had brought only one medistretcher for the keeper, so when Xiphos arrived he had the boy draped over his shoulder.  Inculcare grabbed Danilo's hair to turn his head. 

“Nothing,” said Inculcare as he tested for the Force.  He stabbed another needle into the boy's dangling wrist, the leather clothing being too thick to penetrate.

“My lord, he reacted before the blasters fired.”  Xiphos' eyes were intent.

“Do you sense the Force around him?”

“No,” Xiphos admitted.

“Your team must have made a noise.” 

Xiphos' eyes were skeptical. 

“It's of no concern,” said Inculcare.  “Load him.  Lord Plagueis wishes me to start the interrogation promptly.”

-oOo-

The Wizard was a one-seat courier vessel with little cargo space.  This did not suit Obi-wan at all, because he was not the one with the privilege of being the pilot. 

“How are you doing, Padawan?” said Qui-gon over his helmet speaker.

“Medium squished.  The equipment is rather heavy.”  Obi-wan was lying down in the small cargo area, semi-folded, body padding the disassemblage of mechanical parts.  Both men were wearing radiation suits, and the padawan was hot and cramped.

“Patience.  Landfall inside the Forbidden City is minutes away.”  Qui-gon had chosen the Forbidden City as the best place to set up the equipment, for the radiation would prevent the natives from disturbing it.

“All hail ruined civilizations.  I will kiss its radioactive dust when I can get out and stretch.” 

The Wizard broke into the thickening atmosphere of the planet, streaking like a glowing meteor towards the ground.  Obi-wan's stomach tightened, and he concentrated hard on his calming exercises.  “You're bringing us down fast, Master.”

“We're close.  The Forbidden City glows, by the way.  The landing may be a little complicated.  The streets are strewn with debris and the ground is uneven.”

Their reckless plunge slowed.  One advantage of the Wizard was the way she could use reverse thrusters to hover over a landing point, and from the amount of time Qui-gon spent doing so, Obi-wan could tell the debris was not minor.  Finally they touched ground.  It took longer than it should before the hatch was sprung.  “Was there a problem, Master?” 

“Something here is giving off the Force.  I'm patrolling the city while you set up the equipment.”

Obi-wan waited until his master unburied him, then rose and activated the night vision toggle inside his helmet.  Dragging his work lights out of the cargo bay, he set them up.  It was going to be hard to assemble the equipment at night.  However, he'd practiced this several times on the long extragalactic journey.   

A lightsaber flashed on. 

“Master?”

“The presence I detect is not a benevolent one.  Leave your comlink open while I am gone.”

Qui-gon began to sweep the area with his night-vision.  The pavement was broken and uneven from centuries of frost heaves and he'd set the Wizard down in one of the few intact spots.  Walking meant a constant up and down, his feet angling in every direction over the tilted slabs.

The paving stones were covered with sheets of some odd substance.  It reminded him of dirty ice at the end of winter, blackened, polished almost smooth, yet pitted and worn by centuries of Darkovan weather.  Slight ripple patterns in the coating made him suspect the black sheets had been produced by melting.  No standing structures remained in this section of the city except for the leftover stumps of sheered-off foundations.  Unexpectedly, his scanner told him these foundations were composed of something very similar to plasteel, as were the black sheets beneath his feet. 

After he walked what he estimated to be about a half-mile, he began to notice heaps of stone rubble spread out in rough fan-shapes.  A little further on he discovered more intact structures, if one could call them that, built of cracked brick.  These were oddly distorted, askew on their foundations and half collapsed as if shoved by a giant hand.   Windows and doors formed misshapen, unnerving black holes.  Crumbs of ancient mortar crunched beneath his feet.  On outside walls and over doorways he noticed tiny chips of light, forming white halos in the humid air.  He passed a pair of streets before he realized these tiny lights made a recognizable pattern.  They were streetlights.  The Force emanated from the chips, though weakly. 

The dark presence was all around him, and stronger up ahead. 

One particular chunk of pavement gave off a blue glow.  Qui-gon hesitated.  It wasn't caused by radiation according to his scanner.  Though he could feel a slight Force-sense coming from the slab, it did not resemble that unsavory, pervasive presence at all.  With a mental shrug, Qui-gon stepped on the blue pavement and instantly knew he'd made a mistake.

-He was falling out of the sky with screaming speed in an aircar, others flying in formation with him, plunging towards the seven towers at the heart of the city--knees shaking with awful anticipation and fear—the half-crazed defenders a battle of ants from so great a height, besiegers firing energy cannons to create the costly distraction.-

-Breaking, landing with a slam of metal, blasting a hole in the roof with his matrix lance, the butt end of his lance striking the floor as he slid down its length, dropping next to the enemy's circle, his followers showering down behind him—Aron vaulting over smoking debris to blast away the energy-generating matrices of the protective veil, and Aron in his arms, blown back by the explosion, face flecked with blood, eyes shut, his closest friend not unconscious but dead.-

Qui-gon struggled to pull himself out of the vision.  A voice whispered to him, -You must see it through.  Darkover's fate depends on this assault.-

Wryly, the Jedi who knew a Force hint when he heard one let himself drop back into the centrifuge of battle fury, panicked, enraged, grief all spinning together--

-The keeper going so fast down the stairs it was more like falling, blasting his own front door to pieces, shattering the protective veil there and flying for the protection of Zandru's Temple.  He has to be killed at all costs.  Attack! Now!  Summoning the distant minds of his friends to lend their laran, a gout of blue as his lance downed the keeper like a deer.-

-The face, the elderly chieri half-breed staring up at him, long hair and pasty skin marred by too-human wrinkles, shielding himself behind eyes of venomous hate.- 

-Die, damn you, Die!-

-Scouring away the shield, white hair turning to a sticky black cap, red-hot heat peeling skin off in blackened layers.  Eyelids bubbling and shriveling away, eyeballs trembling as they cooked and shrank in their sockets.  The matrix in his lance vibrating dangerously hard from the overload, finally exploding from its housing and rolling along the pavement.-

But even as his enemy died, the infuriated mind lashed out.  Qui-gon felt the wrongness.  Everywhere around him he felt laran, angry laran racing up from the ground.  Qui-gon heard the noise behind him and whirled. 

-The great tower exploded outwards, the other towers going up as a massive fireball brighter than the sun hit him, bleaching every shadow.  A hurricane of fire blew down the street with a shockwave that flung him through the air like a leaf, and his last breath was a thick clog of superheated gas.  Then the air itself caught fire and his body exploded, turning instantly to vapor.- 

Qui-gon staggered, stepping off the blue pavement.  Even for a Jedi knight of his self-command, this vision of death was jarring.  He had a brief, confused moment when he thought his lightsaber was actually his matrix lance, then he recovered himself.

“So, this wounded city feels it must tell me how it died?”  Qui-gon gave the blue patch a thoughtful look.  He took a step, then halted.  That pervasive presence was back again, except he recognized it now.  It was the same angry mind that had destroyed the city.   

/Interesting./

Qui-gon continued his walk, noticing he had reached one of the better preserved areas.  His eyes were caught by the sight of a platform.  In his vision he'd seen a platform identical to the one ahead, and recognized it as the keeper's goal.  A temple. 

Qui-gon circled the platform, noting its octagonal shape.  Most of its features were hidden in the darkness, though he discovered a stair in one side leading down below.  A light came on over the steps as he neared them.

/Convenient.  It still works./  He found the source of the light, a white crystal imbedded in the ceiling above the steps.  Letters were carved into the walls of the stairwell.  Qui-gon scanned these into his wristcom and sent them off for analysis to the Wizard's computer.  The reply was a stream of nonsense except for three words, which must still be current in Darkover's vocabulary.  These were Zandru, hells, temple.  Zandru was the Darkovan god of its seven hells, and Qui-gon's wristcom indicated that present-day Darkovans did not build temples to him.  Maybe things were otherwise in ancient days.  As temples went, this one was very basic.  Qui-gon inspected the opening.  Whatever was down there was not at all friendly.  However, this was not the time for another quest. 

“Padawan, what progress have you made?”

“The base is up and I'm trying to attach the antennae units.  The power source is next.”

“Good.  That presence appears to be coming from an ancient temple of Zandru.  Do not disturb it.  Prepare the Wizard for a fast take-off.”

“Do you realize your most common command is 'prepare for a fast takeoff?'  You've even said it when we had no sterner task than purchasing some wookiee-cookiees for the younglings at snack time.”

“Is that so, Padawan?”

“Yes.  I remember the episode well.  Nor am I surprised you are feigning memory loss.”

“I honestly don't recall the event, Padawan.  We can argue it later.  I must leave.”

Continuing his patrol, Qui-gon neared the city's shattered ring-wall.  The Forbidden City was placed on a plateau, and most of the remaining wall stones were tumbled down the slope like scree down the sides of a mountain.  Qui-gon found one intact section and climbed on top.  There he stiffened, and immediately spoke into his comlink.  “I'm at the city walls to the northwest. The Sith are nearby.” 

“How many of them?  Master, do you need me?”

“Three.  Darth Tyranus does not appear to be one of their number.  I doubt Lord Plagueis would go himself, so I suspect it's Darth Inculcare and two of the apprentices.”

“Better odds than before.”

“I understand your meaning, Padawan.  However, the equipment is more important than anything else.  Finish your task.  I do not know if the Sith have discovered us or if this is a coincidence.  The Tower of Hali may be their goal.  I'm going to investigate.”

“May the Force be with you, Master.”

“And you.”  Qui-gon jumped off the wall into darkness, the Force landing him safely.

He searched about two miles through rough brush before he found the little cluster of unconscious villagers.  Quickly he felt over every mind and discovered the tampering.  The Sith had wiped the villagers' memories clean of their presence. 

A sudden blast of engines came, followed by the hot yellow cones of exhaust fires. A Sith transport was leaving. 

Qui-gon winced.  The Jedi had arrived too late once again. 

-oOo-