Lost Tribe of the Sith 05 - Star Wars Purgatory

items that he couldn’t coax out of the ground.
    But Jelph had kept looking to the jungle highlands, and to the sky. He’d claimed he had more responsibilities than she knew. Ori had scoffed, longer and louder than she’d intended. That worried her, now, bringing back two of the snares he’d set for the rodents at the edge of the forest. Jelph hadn’t gone away mad, but he had gone away, despite her entreaties.
    She didn’t like it. He’d been the balm she needed, making all of the heartache go away. She’d been dependent on her mother’s office for so much in life that it had been seductively easy to put her existence in his hands. But his leaving had reminded her that he could refuse her. She had power over no one.
    And she couldn’t live without him. Without Jelph, there was no one else at all.
    No one but Shyn. Up ahead, Ori spied the rear door to the composting barn, cracked open to permit circulation. Not even an uvak should have to live in that place, evenif the stench came from its kind. Taking a deep breath, she approached. It had taken her most of the day to check and clear the traps, yielding a few of the varmints that Jelph used to supplement his diet.
Wretched
. At least seeing the uvak reminded her that she still had some freedom, some chance to—
    Ori’s eyes narrowed. Something in the Force had changed. Dropping the traps, she ran to the barn and threw open the rickety door.
    Shyn was dead.
    The great beast lay bleeding on the dirt floor, deep gashes burned into its long golden neck. Immediately recognizing the wounds, Ori ignited her lightsaber and scanned the building. “Jelph! Jelph, are you here?” Except for a few tools lining the wall, nothing was in here, save the giant mound of filth near the front.
    “I told you we’d find her here” came a young male voice from outside. “Just follow the stench.”
    Ori emerged, weapon held high. The Luzo brothers, her nemeses in the Saber corps, stood out in front before uvak mounts of their own. Flen, the elder, smirked. “Stench of failure, you mean.”
    “You looking to die, Luzo?” She stepped forward, unafraid.
    The pair didn’t move. Sawj, the younger brother, sneered. “We’ve killed two High Lords this week. I don’t think we’re going to dirty our hands with a slave.”
    “You killed my uvak!”
    “That’s different,” Sawj said. “You may not know this, but we Sabers are charged with keeping order. A slave can’t keep an uvak!”
    Filled with hate, Ori stepped forward, ready to charge—only to see Flen Luzo turn toward his uvak.
    “Traders told us you liked to come here,” he said, opening his saddlebag. “We’re here to make a trade.” He tossed two scrolls to her feet.
    Kneeling, Ori looked at the wax on the parchment. There was her mother’s marking, a design known only to her and immediate members of her family. Such a thing was reserved for validating a final testament. Unfurling the scroll, she saw that, in a sense, this was. “This says she plotted with Dernas and the Reds to kill the Grand Lord!”
    “And the other says she plotted with Pallima and his people,” Flen said, grinning. “She signed both confessions, as you see.”
    “You could have gotten anything under duress!”
    “Yes,” Flen said.
    Ori scanned the document. Candra Kitai now pledged her eternal loyalty to Grand Lord Venn, who would keep her alive as her personal—very visible—slave. Venn would now be naming three replacement High Lords of her own, Flen said, effectively blocking any moves by what remained of her rivals’ camps. Ori could guess from the sound of Flen’s voice that the brothers might find themselves suddenly elevated, for their loyalty.
    “As I said,” Flen added, “we came for a trade. Your lightsaber, please.”
    Ori threw the scrolls to the dirt. “You’ll have to take it!”
    He simply crossed his arms. “Your mother told us that you would cooperate. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to be the cause of her suffering.”
    “She’s suffering already!” She took another step toward them.
    “And then our Sabers will come down here in force and raze this little farm.
And
that farmer boy of yours,” he said, eyes glinting evilly. “They already have orders to do so, if I don’t bring back your lightsaber.”
    Ori froze. Suddenly reminded, she looked frantically toward the river. He would be floating home soon.
    Flen spoke in a knowing voice. “We don’t care what a slave does, or who she does it