Star Wars: The Last Qymaili | ✔

30 | Another Puzzle

Song: "The Tusken Camp/The Homestead" from Attack of the Clones OST

Arna stepped in. "Are you finished getting dressed yet?" Catching her gaze, red splashed across his face. "You look....beautiful."

She tilted her head, and a slow smile crossed her face. "Do I embarrass you, Master Jedi?"

With a soft chuckle, he dropped his hands. "A little, Khaneme Kummar."

The smile vanished. "Please, Arna—don't call me that."

"Why not?"

"Just call me Ru. The rest of it isn't important."

He deliberated a bit. "As you wish."

She sat down on the bed, and he took his place beside her, slipping his hand to the base of her skull. "When we get in, I need you to keep this with you."

Two cold metal cylinders were thrust into her hand. They were white and gray-colored, with a single button on each. "What are these?" She peered into the hole of one of them.

With an alarmed look, he closed his hand over hers and lowered the cylinders to rest in her lap. "They're a bit like lightsabers," he said. "I made them for you."

"But only Jedi can carry those," she said with a small smile.

"I know," Arna said. "They're different than mine are. Sleeker, not powered by Kyber crystals. And they don't have the fancy settings of ours."

"But why are you giving these to me?" she asked, clutching them. "I could kill you tonight and take your ship back to Kalee."

"I hope we're closer friends than that," he said, jokingly miffed. "I gave these to you for a few reasons. First: I've seen your dreams about the Krath droid. I give these to you to defend yourself."

"But when will I face it?"

"I don't know," he said. "But that's not why I gave them to you so soon. There are many dark things connected to this planet. The count is....an elderly man, and not as sane as he used to be."

"If he's a Jedi, wouldn't he be safe?"

"Was," Arna corrected. "He left the Order during the Battle of Naboo, ten years ago. I don't know what his mental state is, but in the case of the worst, be prepared to use these to defend yourself."

She flexed her flesh hand and nodded, her throat dry. How easily winded she was with her regulator. "How do I activate them?"

"Hold them straight up and press the button."

She did as he asked, her fingers trembling over the hilt, and a brilliant shot of white ignited from the base. The beam showed her face, partially visible beneath the veil, and she smiled. "They're lovely."

He rose. "Now conceal them on your clothing. We must confer with the count."

✺✺✺

Khetsuu's team reached the Gerelakh settlement at sundown the next day. Weary from lack of sleep, he stumbled into one of the camps on the steppes. "Where is she?" he barked raggedly at a page standing in the doorway.

"Inside, my lord. Voshrat Sk'ar is with her."

His wobbling legs stepped inside the tent. Saikhan's hands were strapped to wooden poles atop a large spindle, and her eyes were swollen shut—though from beating or sickness, Khetsuu was unsure. Her wrists were bloodied. Great patches of skin had been snarled from her back.