Fighting back a wave of nausea Molari went over the brief report he'd given to the Council regarding the Enclave.
The dead had been burned, their stacked bodies given some form of final rest instead of left in the heap they'd been piled in.
The medical records and whatever datapads had been scrounged from the security office had been brought out, pulled from wreckage and salvaged for investigation. The mysterious illness that had begun to sweep through the Enclave was still mysterious, unknown, but everything pointed to Knight Smith as being the culprit.
How, they did not know.
Why, they still did not know.
What they did know was Smith's assignment and mission into the Seat of the Empire had taken just slightly longer than anticipated, three months for a task that might've been scheduled to only take two and change. Three months was a long time though, certainly long enough - as Ereta had mentioned - to be found and changed by the hands of a Sith.
And then sent back?
Molari hunched over the sink. It wasn't nerves that made his stomach churn and head swim, and it wasn't worry over what would happen if Knight Smith found his way to another Enclave.
But if he wasn't stopped, if he wasn't found, if he wasn't quarantined - the story of the Enclave would repeat again.
Sabotaged transmissions. Broken communications. The dead had been stacked like piles of firewood, hidden behind the walls so that from a distance they were unseen. But the stench - he'd thrown out his robes, knowing from experience that the stench of rotted flesh hung in the fabric no matter how often you laundered it. Maybe that memory was why he gripped the sink, pale beneath his gold skin, stomach twisting again before he lost what food he'd managed to eat.
Molari had waved off the helpful Jedi who'd offered to bring one of the medics for him, promising he'd go see them himself if he worsened. His headache had returned, reaching up and again dimming the visor to help ease eyes that had become far too sensitive to the light. Dunking his head under the running water had helped, the cold giving him a temporary respite from the pain which throbbed behind his eyes, and eventually the nausea abated enough that he righted himself.
While his droid restocked his ship with fresh rations and food - it hadn't looked expired but he'd eaten his food and a few things at the cantina on Nar, maybe he should go back there? - he ran a hand through his hair, pulling his hood up. He'd gotten a few comments and questions if he was feeling well and they'd begun to seem... edged. Watchful. He'd found himself baring canines almost, a rise of feeling threatened hitting him without warning. The sounds of the Temple started to seem... he shook his head, shoulder hitting the wall as he stumbled. His steps slowly grew more hurried, picking up pace to avoid being ushered towards the medical wing. Boarding his ship he settled into the chair with a sigh, tension unknotting from his neck as that creep of discomfort left. While waiting for clearance and departure times the knight dozed, shifting to comfortably slouch in the chair.
Ari, where'd you go?
The voice was achingly familiar and he stood up, chair skittering backwards with the speed he'd gotten to his feet. He blindly groped for the console to steady himself, head turning as he wondered how that voice was in his ears.
His heart pounded in time with his head. She was dead. He knew she was dead. But her voice had been just over his shoulder, close enough that he could hear the slight hiss on the end of her words. His head turned at the flicker just at the corner of his eyes and he moved, following out the deck and hitting a run to make it to the crew quarters, fingers digging into the metal frame enough to dent it slightly, leaving little half-moon grooves in the surface.
He shared a few things with his sister. And he remembered the two-tone hair, one of the signature, defining characteristics of their species, and he knew he'd seen her duck into the room. But the cabin was empty and he stood to catch his breath, mouth hanging open before he snapped his jaw closed, feeling his canines click and then shaking his head.
"Just a dream."
The headache started to recede and Molari ran a hand through his hair, making his way back to the cabin. As the headache cleared he adjusted his visor again, rubbing his forehead before reaching for his comm, pulling up the listed frequencies.
No comments:
Post a Comment