Star Wars: Lost Tribe of the Sith #6: Sentinel by John Jackson Miller Page A

long as he lived in the hinterlands and kept his contacts to a minimum. In short order, he had picked up the local dialect and accent, giving him access to the necessities of life. A life spent tending his farm during the days—and working to repair his damaged starfighter at night.
    The starfighter
. He had completed repairing most of the damage done to the Aurek by the meteor storm; it remained only to reinstall the communications console and select the time and manner of his departure. Then he would have truly been the sentinel he’d intended to be, warning the Republic and Jedi of the Sith, and reclaiming his name.
    But he had met
her
. Ori Kitai was of the Sith, and he had gotten too close to her, despite his better judgment. He’d let her distract him from his mission. He’d allowed her into his home. And now she had discovered hisstarfighter—and had gone, presumably to warn the Sith.
    Or had she?
    He’d left the farm quickly. There’d been no other choice. He preferred not to launch the starfighter without the communications system, which would take a week to reinstall. Catching Ori first was at least worth a try. But he cursed himself now for not studying the clues more closely. Yes, someone had gone through the shed, killed her uvak, and uncovered the starfighter. But it wasn’t clear who had done what. Yes, Ori was missing, and her footprints led away up the trail. But other people riding uvak had recently been there, too, and left. Only enfranchised Sith rode uvak—but all of them were supposedly hostile to Ori, whom they now regarded as a slave. Had something changed? She hadn’t left with them, in any event.
    His bet was that the Tribe didn’t yet know about his secret. If the Sith uvak-riders had discovered his vessel, they would’ve left someone to protect it. That left Ori. The previous day, when he’d been up in the jungle, he’d felt a profound pang of betrayal from her through the Force. He’d seen the destruction she’d wrought on his tiny farm. And now she was heading toward the capital city with knowledge capable of spreading destruction on a galactic scale.
    She had to be. Ori’s tracks had vanished before the crossroads, but Jelph remained certain she was bound for Tahv. There was nothing but jungle to the east, and no one to tell downstream in the abandoned towns of the Ragnos Lakes. With the monsoon rains choking the Marisota River, fords were out to the few southern cities. That left the capital, a city he had never visited. The center of evil on Kesh, home of Grand Lord Lillia Venn and her whole misbegotten Tribe.
    He looked out the window toward the now-purposeless city walls. Where might Ori be? Where would she go?
    “You don’t look happy, my friend.” The worried old Keshiri took the empty bowl. “I always try to have something to serve for the poor. I’m sorry it’s not better.”
    “It’s not that,” Jelph said, remembering himself.
    “Ah. The woman.” The old man retreated behind the counter. “I may not be one of your kind, young human, but I can tell you something universal. You let a woman into your life, and anything can happen.”
    Jelph stepped toward the door, turned, and bowed. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
       The last visitors filed out of the zoo. That was what Ori had always called it, but the true name was something more complicated. Originally a special park honoring Nida Korsin and the Skyborn Rangers, it had since had the names of two or three other Grand Lords affixed to it, though that didn’t seem a particularly high honor to Ori. There had once been wild animals inside, the last members of some of Kesh’s predator species. But the Sith had long since hauled them out and killed them for sport.
    Now the facility served as the public home for the uvak mounts used in rake-riding—those few uvak who survived their bouts in that violent sport, anyway. Sith citizens and Keshiri alike came to marvel at the mighty beasts, being pampered