STAR WARS: Fugitive

Chapter 24

Chapter 24

A cloaked Togruta wormed his way through the incessant crowd. His cloak clung tightly around him by the driven wind, helping to conceal his face. No one seemed to notice how they were gently maneuvered out of the way ever so gracefully, almost as if they meant to veer slightly when they approached this mysterious Togruta with obviously uneven montrals beneath his hood that no one seemed to notice.

Darth Syriu’us preferred it that way. He had been trailing his prey, a tall Human woman, the catalyst, for nearly an hour. He had stretched out to her mind through the Force when he first discovered their ensemble when they landed on Ryloth trying to learn what he could about her, since Intelligence reports were always vague and unreliable, not to mention thus far she had been grossly underestimated. The easiest way to terminate them would be to pick them off little by little. He was delighted, then, when they split up. He would have to capitalize on any advantage he could gain. He recognized when she noticed his presence, and subsequently stepped up her pace, her male companion and droid almost left behind.

After trailing them for awhile, he came to the conclusion that she was running toward no particular destination. Thus he began to use the Force to push his way through the agitated crowds; he needed to catch up and end this quickly. He had little trouble redirecting all of the distracted minds that he passed. One mind, a male Devaronian peddling dried meat out of an alley, seemed to fancy him as he approached to pass by. The Devaronian shifted from calling out to the general mass of beings with his Rodian companions to honing in on Syriu’us. He hurried to intercept Syriu’us with a large handful of long, darkened meat strips.

Syriu’us tried to hurry past, irritated at the interruption that seemed inevitable. The Devaronian tried to stand in his way holding up the meat and babbling in broken Basic with intermittent words Syriu’us could only assume were from his native language. When the peddler grabbed his arm, Syriu’us surged with anger, channeling the dark side through his arm as he tensed his muscles and clenched his fist. The Devaronian froze and went limp as his neck snapped. Syriu’us snatched a strip of dried meat as the Devaronian collapsed in front of a group of Jawas leading a bantha that looked loaded down with crate cylinders. The Jawas scattered chattering in distress until their bantha, committed to its course, trampled straight across.

The Rodians stumbled to retrieve their companion. One of them pulled out his blaster determined for revenge. He broke through a line of Twi’leks looking for the cloaked stranger.  As he scanned the crowd he saw mostly the beings prodding toward him. There was a strange, odd-shaped being in a cloak moving away from him, but he couldn’t see the culprit that killed his companion. He would have to settle for later, which he determined would happen if he ever spotted that unmistakable misshaped figure again.

Syriu’us began to hurry. He saw the girl stop and have a conversation with the man before continuing again and disappearing down a tributary alley. As soon as he lost sight of them, he broke into a trot moving crowds out of his way less carefully. He rounded the same corner in time to see his prey leave in a water craft down a river. He approached the wharf as a group of Twi’leks and Humans left hauling heavy containers. A grey-skinned Twi’lek sat alone on a crate murmuring to himself.

“I need you to follow that craft,” said Syriu’us.

The Twi’lek kept murmuring, unaware that he had been addressed. His solitary conversation was suddenly cut short when his crate flew out from beneath him sending him tumbling to the ground. Looking up at the hooded Togruta standing over him, he stammered, “What do you want with me?”

Syriu’us helped him up and escorted him toward the remaining water vessel. “I need you to follow that vessel, now,” he said softly, indicating the vessel that was slowly shrinking as it floated away.