Eye of the Shadow - Pt. 7 - You can check out, but...

Bastila had just revealed that mission to Taris aboard the Endar Spire had been specifically planned to retrieve Yagr. She had referred to him as Odace Yagarian, not his alias Grym Yagr. Yagr had tried repeatedly to ask Bastila more questions, but she had entered a level of meditation that he could not break through. He sat in his small hiding place with his knees tucked up against his chest and his arms wrapped around his legs.

Noids and Droids! What is going on!? Did Lucien send her? If he did, then why did he start sending bounty hunters to kill me? Only he knew I was still on Taris. Krynda…could she have….? What is going on with the Covenant. How did the Jedi find out about me? I am the Eye of the Shadow, the Darkness that Watches. I feel so….naked.

Yagr’s thoughts were interrupted by the raucous noise of the approaching crowd cheering the victory of Serena Kae in the Season Opener. Since she was riding for Gadon Thek, the Hidden Beks gained massive concessions in the Tarisian trade markets. Brejik found it wholly unpalatable to let Thek win when all his scheming was unsuccessful. Yagr overheard the arguments as Brejik betrayed the race agreement and intended to keep the promised prize, the Jedi Bastila

Are you ready?

The Jedi’s voice startled him yet again. He felt so skittish and anxious for the first time in a very long time. He felt unsure of himself, but at the same time ready for action with a confidence and poise that was not completely his. His mind was a tangle of questions. Too many questions.

Ready for what?

To rejoin those with whom you once belonged? Her voice gave him a rush, purer than the effects of any narcotic.

He stood up wide-eyed and startled at all that was happening. As he surveyed the concourse, his mind struggled to take it all in. He saw Serena standing in the midst of a crazy array of humans and non-humans, her vibroblade angled towards the nearest threatening villain. At that moment, Grym Yagr did something that he had never done in his life.

He turned and ran away.

NO! no no no no…

As he emerged from a turbolift, he broke into a full-out sprint, crossing thoroughfares and alleyways. Rounding a corner, three Sith troopers were standing right in his path. They immediately recognized his outfit and sash as being Vulkar. Sith commanders had made it common practice to take any gang members into custody that they found in the Upper City.

“Stop there, you scum!” one of them ordered.

Yagr took two steps backward, and then turned to run in another direction. These men were armed only with vibroblades and stun sticks for crowd control, so he had a good chance of getting away. He could hear the shouts of the troopers behind him and felt that he was putting distance between them. It was time to find one of his many escape points that he had set up throughout his years in the city. He managed to turn into an alley breaking the visual lock of the Sith soldiers. He was just about to open the back entry to a cantina when the door slid open right in front of him. Yagr lurched backward, recoiling from the man standing in the entry.

“Ugh…of all the goggle-eyed freaks….” was all Yagr managed to get out before Calo Nord’s blasters shot struck him high in the left shoulder and lower on his right side. As he fell to the ground, he heard the shouts of the Sith pursuers as they had entered the fray, recognizing the bounty hunter. They began shouting at Nord since he was a more valuable catch. More troopers arrived with blasters and firefight that ensued was hot and intense. Nord fled into the cantina with the armored troops close behind. They had forgotten about Yagr, wrecked in the alley, since he had become insignificant when compared with Nord.

The last thing Yagr saw was the yellow face of Janice Nall. She wore a pained, sorrowful look on her face as she worked to move Yagr. The pain was so intense that he blacked out.

Dreams invaded his mind. Images drifted with no seeming purpose. The kind doctor, the droid merchant, a medical technician, and Bastila. Bastila was ever near in his dreams and it seemed that she was always searching for something. Sometimes, she came to his dreams as that small, innocent girl in her teens always wearing colorful ribbons in her hair. At other times, she came to his dreams as the woman she had grown to be, reaching for him, trying to pull him towards her.

Since his arrival in Forn’s medical facility, Yagr had been comatose. He had remained nearly oblivious to all sound and commotion. With the Sith blockade in place, kolto shipments had been non-existent, and this meant that Zelka Forn had been required to practice old-fashioned medicine on Yagr in the hope that his body would have no problem repairing itself. Late on his second day in Forn’s hidden med room, the pain from the blaster wound finally brought Yagr to the surface of consciousness.

The usual delirium that accompanies such an awakening washed through his mind, but he could pick up the “whoosh” of the entry door as it slid open. Through his blurry vision, Yagr could make out a figure moving towards him. When the figure got to the edge of his recovery bed, he could see that it was Gurney, Forn’s assistant. Gurney reached into his pocket and pulled out a small metal syringe. Yagr was well aware of Gurney’s connections to Davik and realized that whatever was in that syringe was not likely to benefit him much. Unfortunately, his seemingly superhuman abilities were unavailable to him in his damaged state. He attempted to fling his arms out at the assailant but was stymied by waves of pain. He could only look on in wide-eyed horror as Gurney began to inject the fluorescent green liquid into his body.

The pain was blinding as the elixir worked its way up his arm. The entry doors slid open again and Zelka Forn was stopped by the surprise at seeing Gurney in the room. He glanced down at his patient and quickly realized that something was amiss. Gurney withdrew the needle and quickly tossed it into the incinerator shute.

“What is going on? What have you done, Gurney?” the doctor inquired confusedly.

“Just making a bit of side money, doc. Don’t worry, he won’t suffer for long.” sniveled Gurney in his weaselly little voice.

Forn reached out and gripped Gurney’s arm and demanded, “What have you done?”

“Let go, Doc. Davik needed this guy dealt with, so I took care of it.”

Forn looked down at Yagr releasing his grip on Gurney, and began inspecting what was happening to the man. Yagr’s face was contorted in pain and his muscles were contracting and relaxing in massive convulsions.

“What did you give him?” asked the doctor, but the room was now empty.

Forn began digging through his cabinets looking for something that would stabilize the patient. He grabbed an injector and filled it with a base poison stabilizer that handled a broad range of relatively basic poisons. Upon returning to Yagr’s side, the patient erupted as his stomach ejected its contents onto the good doctor.

A calm, elegant voice interrupted Forn’s frantic efforts to save Yagr. “You are doing an excellent job, Doctor. Please allow me to assist.”

Zelka looked up and saw a beautiful woman standing in the doorway posed in a stance that showed focus and concentration, her face the picture of meditation. A blue glow formed around the man on the table, and immediately the convulsions stopped. The patient’s body relaxed as the blaster wounds began to fade away. Yagr’s eyes fluttered open and he looked around with a bit of confusion on his face.

“Thank you, doctor. I am quite grateful for your labors with my friend.”

The doctor slumped down beside the table feeling the release of so much tension. “He has done too many good deeds on my account for me to have given up on him.”

Bastila approached the bed and put her fists on her hips. “Don’t you think we should be moving on?” she half-asked, half-ordered.

“If there is such a thing as angels, I think this is what they must look like,” Yagr mumbled in a slightly loopy voice.

Bastila blushed then quickly bristled, straightening her tunic. Her face took on a more businesslike demeanor as she cleared her throat. “Well, we have some work to accomplish. Are you prepared to move out or not?”

Gingerly, Yagr stood and checked all his limbs stretching to make sure everything worked. He caught just a glimpse of the Jedi eyeing his physique before she spun on her heels, abruptly heading for the door.

“Get your shirt on, soldier. We have some things to discuss. I suggest we move on.” At that, Bastila exited the facility.

Forn was still positioned exactly where he had been when the Jedi had arrived with the exact same exhausted look on his face. As Yagr finished donning his shirt, he turned toward the doctor.

“Thanks for all this, Doc. You saved my life.”

“What exactly did she…”

“Don’t ask, Doc. I couldn’t explain it if I wanted to. Jedi stuff.”

Yagr headed towards the door, then glanced over his shoulder.

“If you want to save your own life, Forn, throw a few personals into a bag and be ready to move. This is all going away soon. I’ll be back for you.” Yagr motioned to the room around him as he spoke then darted out the door.

Yagr was running down the main avenue of the Upper City looking for Bastila. He sensed the message that she sent to him summoning him to her location and found her in a blind alley near his own apartment complex.

“What are you doing in the dark?” he inquired.

“I sensed something--a dark Jedi, perhaps--and felt the need to err on the side of caution.”

Yagr reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, then turned his back to her and swapped cybernetics. As he turned around, the Jedi recoiled upon seeing the glowing blue orb in his left eye socket.

“Sorry for the surprise. This will get us where we need to go.”

He took her by the hand to guide her towards their destination, ignored her muscle tension at his touch, and stepped out into the growing dusk. The streets were clearing as the upper middle class of Taris began to arrive at home at the close of the day. Yagr’s implant allowed him to not only sense Force-users, but actually pick them out of the crowd and ‘see’ them through thin walls and doors.

Bastila motioned in the direction of the apartment that Carth had chosen as his base of operations. She was hoping that Serena, Carth, and the droid had returned from the Sith base by now, but when they arrived at the apartment, the place was deserted.

“The little Twi’lek girl and the Wookiee must be off getting their dinner,” Bastila opined as she stepped into the refresher. Yagr swapped implants as his conditioning kicked in and swept the room for any kind of threat, examining the workbench, the pile of gear and clothing, and other various harmless objects, assessing their potential as tools and weapons should the need arise. A minute later, Bastila emerged, motioned to a seat, and sat down across from him. He, too, sat and eyed her interrogatively.

“Ok, ask.”

“Ask what?” Yagr stammered.

“All the obvious questions that you have. I know that I have not been forthcoming, and you must be a sea of questions. So, ask.”

“You said you were here to bring me home? What does that mean? Who sent you? How did you know to come to Taris? I assume you want to take me to Coruscant, to the temple?” Yagr’s agitation level began to grow exponentially with each question put to words. “And Revan...?” His last question was nearly a shout.

“Very well, let me start at the beginning.” Her voice was soothing to Yagr, and he relaxed visibly. “Lucien Draay is gone.”

“Dead?”

“Not sure. Just gone for now. The Covenant has been dismantled. The Shadows are decommissioned. The High Council felt that the Seers were too prone to accept their visions as precognition and their potential shatterpoints as foregone conclusions. Too dangerous. Once the Tower here on Taris was closed, the Covenant began to unravel. The Council did not know of your existence until recently. A message was sent to the Council from an unknown source providing just enough of a trail for us to locate information leading us to you.”

After the Great Sith War with Exar Kun, Krynda Draay and her son, Lucien, gathered a small band of Jedi Counsulars at the Jedi Academy on Taris. They were gifted at using the force to see the swirl of events throughout the galaxy. These Seers were employed as The Shadow and charged with seeking out Sith activity and stomping it out. Yagr had been chosen personally by Lucien Draay to function as an operative, positioned in far flung locales so he might be available to interfere in the affairs of the Sith. Only Lucien Draay knew the purpose of Yagr’s early training and, once Yagr was deployed, only Draay knew how to contact him.

Yagr stood and began to pace. “A message….from who?”

“As I said, unknown. The Council either does not know or determined not to tell me.”

“So, why even pursue me? Why not let me just drift into oblivion? I was perfectly happy doing what I was doing. Now your ‘friends’ up there are going to rearrange every molecule of this planet just to get their hands on your little gift.” Yagr slumped on the ledge by the window as it occurred to him that Malak would likely pour his wrath down on this poor planet because of his interference.

“Ok, so you learned about me, remembered who I was and that time on Chandrilla, and just decided to swing by and pick me up?”

Bastila stood and stepped toward Yagr. “We need you, Odace. Things have grown urgent. We need every weapon at our disposal. You have a power that you have not begun to tap, and the Council believes that you might be of great use.” She paused and took one more step towards him. “This is a most desperate hour. “

“Need me? You have the supposedly dead Dark Lord of the Sith running anti-Sith missions here and you need me?” Yagr was having trouble buying it.

“Serena Revan is no longer the Dark Lord of the Sith and does not know that she ever was. There was an engagement and we…obtained her. Her memories were adjusted, and now the light that was within her is beginning to show through. The Light will always be stronger.”

“Sounds like you were there.” His voice came out with a thoughtful tone. “You faced off against unimaginable dark power and walked away. Double tough. I am impressed. Now… what does any of this have to do with me?”

“I am not fully privy to what the Council hopes your role will be. Draay may yet be a person of interest for us. But, I speak out of my place. My hope was to be able to convince you to return to the Temple. Is there a chance of that?“

“I don’t know.” He spoke in meditation while running a hand over his grizzled face. Stepping over to the workbench located in the apartment, he pulled out a small pouch of tools and removed his implant. He had grown fond of the Force-emanations perceived through the glowing bluish-purple orb, but it gave him headaches. After a few moments of silence broken only by the mechanical sounds of his labor, Yagr inserted his standard ocular implant that looked to the inattentive as any other biological eyeball. The manual work helped his mind process what he’d heard.

“Odace, I sense that your life on this planet, indeed, the former life that you have lived is coming to an end, right here and now. Join us. Harness your power to the wisdom of the Council.” Her hands were extended in a pleading gesture.

“Heh…you said that with enough passion to make me believe that you really think that the Council is all wise and knowing”. He turned and faced the Jedi and pointed an accusatory finger at Bastila. “I have seen the wisdom of the wise Council first hand. I have seen a shattered wreck of a Jedi who did nothing more than serve the cause that the Force drew her to. I have seen the twisted wreckage that lies in the Council’s wake. They are a flawed pack of mortals with immense power, yet lacking the sense to see that they are not gods. THAT is my opinion of the great Council.” He paced for a moment, paused to look out the window, and then said, “After your team departs, I assume in the company of Canderous Ordo, you may hear from me. You may not. You will know my answer then.” With no more flourish or spoken word, Yagr stepped out of the apartment.

Perhaps an hour after Yagr’s departure, the strike team arrived. During their successful raid on the Sith base, they had not only netted the required launch codes, but also the death of a Dark Jedi knight. The two humans entered noisily rejoicing at their success. Mission and Zaalbar were playing pazaak and scowled at the pair for interrupting their bit of peace and quiet.

“Where’s Bastila?” Onasi asked between exhausted puffs.

“She’s been in the room meditating ever since we got back. Oh! Twenty again, Z. Sorry, it’s just not your night.” The wookiee rubbed his hands over the fur on the top of his head and grunted out his wish for one more match.

Just a heartbeat before Carth asked Serena if they should intrude, the bedroom door slid open and Bastila stepped through. “I assume from your whooping because you were successful.” Nods and an outstretched data pad confirmed as much. Onasi’s smug and triumphant look began to fade as Bastila gave no congratulations of any sort, but merely said, “I suppose we will need to contact the Ordo fellow as soon as possible.”

Her face was deeply etched with concern, prompting Serena to ask, “What’s wrong, Bastila? We thought you would be a little happier.”

“Oh, I apologize; I have some bigger things on my mind. It appears that much of what we came out here to accomplish has been a failure. So many lives lost because I was not skillful enough.” She said nothing more and retreated back to her room leaving the two warriors to just glance at one another and begin preparations for their meeting with the Mandalorian.