Chapter 4

XXXX and Jaron arrived at the 3 story apartment building which the bartender had described. He had said the place was 'a bit run down,' but that was a huge understatement. It was in such a state of disrepair that XXXX was surprised anyone lived there. She paid the cab driver his fare before exiting the speeder.

They entered the building and climbed the dilapidated stairs to the third floor. The dingy walls were grime coated and the lights in the hall were inoperable. Faint light seeped in through a filth covered window at the far end of the hall.

They stopped in front of an old style wooden door on hinges. It was dirty, and the numbers were missing, although there was a faint outline of where the 3C used to be. Assuming the buzzer was out of order, Jaron rapped on the door.

"You're early," said a man's voice from the other side of the door. They heard him manipulate the lock and the door swung open to reveal a man who looked just like Jaron. He was several years older, unshaven, heavier, but despite that it was clear they were related. His eyes were blurry and his clothes were dirty and reeked of alcohol.

"Well what do you know," he said. "My little brother's come to pay a visit. And he brought a lady friend, too. I s'pose your a Jedi too." He stepped back to let them into the two room apartment.

They entered the dwelling and looked around. It was even filthier than the halls had been. Trash was strewn about the room and used kitchen utensils filled the single sink and overflowed across the small counter. The only furniture that occupied the room were a table which was littered with empy liquor bottles and an ashtray overflowing with cigarra butts and ashes, and a dingy mattress with a tattered blanket laying in the corner. There was a door leading to another room, but it was closed.

On the mattress was a small boy about two years of age with dark hair and a dirty face. He wore dirty, ragged clothes and was playing with some empty liquor bottles, blissfully unaware of the squalor around him. He looked up as the strangers entered, but quickly went back to playing, giggling as he knocked the bottles over, then stood them back up.

"I had no idea you were here, Teld," Jaron said calmly. He hadn't seen his brother in ten years, and couldn't care less if he never saw him again. "You've changed your name, I see, although I doubt that has changed your character."

"Well, if this ain't a social visit, then why are you here, Jedi?" he sneered the last word. He plopped himself down in a chair next to the table, dug a cigarra out of his pocket and lit it, blowing a large cloud of smoke into the air.

XXXX spoke up. "Mister Tarn Eorax, I am Jedi Master XXXXXXXXXXX. We have come to talk to you about your son."

"A Master, hunh?" Tarn said sitting up a bit. "What? You couldn't get your hands on my last son, so you thought you'd try for this one, too?"

"We know nothing of your other offspring. We are here to ask you to let us test this boy and possibly take him to Coruscant," she proposed.

Eorax threw his head back and laughed as if she had just told the funniest joke he had ever heard. "Unless you've got some credits to pay me, the answer is no. And even if you do, you'll have to beat the price I'm already being paid."

XXXX felt as if an icey cold hand had just been wrapped around her heart. They had gotten here too late. He had apparently already made his deal with the Sith.

"You are the lowest scum. How could you sell your son to the Sith?," Jaron said to his brother.

"It is not too late, Mister Eorax. Your son is still here. You can still do the right thing for your child," XXXX said with calmness she did not feel. Anger began to burn within her, she dampened it, but let it smolder.

There was a sudden knock at the door. Tarn stood up and spoke as he walked to the door, "Yes, it is too late."