Prodgical
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The dream was always the same for Bastila Shan.
She stood on board the bridge of the Harbinger, a
twin-bladed lightsaber hissing and humming in her fist. Her muscles tingled and
sparked with the electricity flashing through her body. Behind her, Jana and
Reeno stepped forward, igniting their own lightsabers. Tik Finna limped behind
them, holding one arm tightly to his stomach, where he bled ichor freely.
Before them, casually waiting, leaning across one of the
consoles stood the Dark Lord. Revan. Lord of the Sith, swathed completely in
black robes. Revan hid behind a respirator mask, with eyes glowing dull red
behind the visor. Behind Revan, the wide view screen opened into space. There, Malak’s
warship, the Gladius drifted, venting drive plasma from her ion engines. A host
of Republic gunships swarmed around the Gladius, spearing the huge vessel with
turbolaser blasts. Even though the Gladius dwarfed the gunships, she was most
certainly on her last legs.
“Your fight is lost, Revan,” Bastila said, lifting her
chin in confidence. “Your fleet is in disarray. To continue is pointless.”
Revan released a chuckle and stood straight. “Struggle is
never pointless, Bastila my dear. For you see, struggle is what defines life.
It is how we know we are…alive. You feel the struggle within you, young one. I
can sense it. The Jedi did not prepare you for this fight, Bastila. They did
not prepare you for the truth.”
“Save your lies, Revan. It’s over.”
“I can feel the conflict within you, Bastila,” Revan
continued, stepping towards Bastila. Revan lifted a gauntleted fist and
clenched it before Bastila. “You are a pawn of the Council, dear Bastila. Your
only value to them is the Battle Meditation with which you were born. And now,
they have sent you to me. To die. But that is not your destiny. Your destiny
lies with me. Not against me.” The fist
unclenched and stretched out towards Bastila, an open hand, reaching. “Join me,
Bastila, and we shall bring order to the chaos of the galaxy!”
“Be silent!” Bastila hissed tightly, lifting her
lightsaber.
“That’s it, child!” Revan snarled eagerly, “let your
anger flow freely. Strike me down with your hate if you can. Give in to your
anger!”
“Never!” Bastila shrieked. She lashed forward in a blur,
whipping her lightsaber towards Revan’s face.
And then, an explosion came, ending the dream.
*
In the impenetrable night of space, a starship sliced
through the blackness with a white prow. Far below, there rested a shining blue
sphere of a planet, twinkling in the sunlight like a steel ball. The Endar
Spire, a Republic warship, tore through space at full drive speed.
Running.
Closing in fast came a wave of tiny fighters, unfolding
their weapons foils. The fighter craft unleashed volley after volley of
laserfire upon the Endar Spire. The Spire’s point defense lasers chopped
mercilessly at the snubfighters, flaming them out of the sky. But for every one
that burned down, two more roared forth.
Several hundred thousand kilometers behind the Spire,
four Sith destroyers trailed, and hounded the Spire’s every turn, every
maneuver. They slid just inside missile range and each unleashed two missiles
each. The Spire zoomed over the curve of the planet below, losing the first
three pairs of missiles in the magnetic field. But the last pair of missiles
sank right into the Endar Spire’s belly and spine. Fire erupted silently into
space, and the Spire slipped off course, spinning slowly and listing to port.
*
Bastila shot upright in her bunk, sweating and breathing
heavily. She clutched desperately at her chest and tried to calm herself. She
was above this…this…sentimentality; this wayward emotion. She willed her heart
to cease its hammering and lowered her head back against her pillow.
And another explosion rocked the ship.
Bastila leaped from her bunk. The ship was under attack.
Hurriedly, she stuffed herself into her clothes and tied her dark hair back
from her face. She grabbed her lightsaber and hooked it to her belt. As she
rushed to the door, the deck tilted violently, hurling her against a bulkhead.
The door hissed open and Trask stepped in. “Commander
Shan!” he cried, helping her up. “The Spire’s under attack! The Sith caught up
to us. We’ve lost our sublight drive!”
Bastila nodded. “We must get to the bridge, Sergeant!”
“This way, Commander!”
Trask led them down the twisting white corridors of the
ship. As they passed out of the crew deck, the ship rocked again, tossing
Bastila and the sergeant against a bulkhead. Bastila helped him up this time.
He nodded his thanks and the hatch beside them exploded inwards.
Bastila held up her palm and called upon the Force to
deflect the smoldering debris and shreds of molten steel buzzing towards them.
Black smoke rolled through the shattered hatchway and figures loomed within,
clad in silver armor.
The Sith were here.
Bastila ripped her lightsaber free of her belt and
ignited it. She positioned herself in front of Trask as the Sith troopers
emerged from the smoke. They saw her and immediately fired their blaster
rifles. Bastila planted her feet squarely, calling again on the Force. It
flowed through her like a cool breeze. She caught each stream of energy upon
the surface of her blade, deflecting the shots harmlessly away.
Trask gaped at her in amazement, but recovered quickly.
He drew his sidearm and returned fire. Two Sith troopers fell, but the other
advanced. One drew a vibrosword from his belt and charged at Bastila. He swung
the humming blade at her throat, but she simply stepped to the side calmly. She
chopped her lightsaber across at him. Desperately, he lifted his blade to
parry, but Bastila’s lightsaber melted right through it and burned through his
chest. He shrieked and fell backwards.
Bastila then hurled herself into the middle of the
troopers and whirled in a circle. She brought her weapon high and low, twisting
it in humming, buzzing circles. When she was finished, all the troopers were
dead.
Bastila closed down her lightsaber and nodded to Trask.
“That was…amazing,” Trask gasped.
“We don’t have much time, Sergeant.”
He nodded and led them on. As the moved down the Spire’s
corridors, panels exploded from bulkheads, and girders erupted through the
deck.
They had to take service ladders up to the command deck
because all the turbolifts past section seven were offline. Bastila swung her
lithe body up the service shaft and onto the deck. In a crouch, she glanced
around, keeping watch while Trask pulled himself up. He tapped her on the
shoulder and pointed to his wristcomm.
“Captain Onasi’s been trying to reach you, ma’am!” Trask
whispered sharply, sweat streaming down his temples.
Bastila glanced down at her own wristcomm and remembered
she had shut it off so she could sleep. Her cheeks reddened. She flicked it
back on and Carth Onasi’s handsome, rugged features appeared on the tiny screen
of her wristcomm.
“…jamming intraship comms,” Onasi was saying, “and it
probably won’t be long before they catch on to the fact I’m using personal
commlinks! So we don’t have a lot of time, Commander Shan!”
“Er…sorry, Captain, Onasi,” Bastila sputtered. “I had to
shut my comm off because of…er…”
“Don’t worry about it,” he cut in, glancing over his
shoulder. Lines of static marched down his image. “I can’t get a line to any of
the other Jedi on board, Commander. The Sith have boarded in several sections,
and I think they’ve been hunting them down. That means you’re in danger, more
than any of us!”
Bastila’s fears had been realized, then; her presence had
jeopardized the mission. Obviously, there were Dark Jedi on the Sith vessels
hounding the Endar Spire. They had sensed her presence, even though she had
done her level best to cloak herself from detection. “What do you suggest,
Captain?” Technically, even though Bastila’s rank was a temporary assignment,
she outranked Carth. She had been given command of the mission; demanded it actually. Carth was only on board as an advisor,
primarily, because of his immense experience, working both with the Fleet and
the Jedi. He was one of a handful of Republic Officers who had worked
extensively with the Jedi Liaison. She had been counseled to heed his advice closely.
“Well,” he told her, “the bridge has been compromised.
Sith slicers have inserted a logic worm into the computer systems…I suppose
they’re trying to crack the Republic Deep Archive, and they could only do that
from the Bridge. We’re out of time. You need to get to the Escape Pods
immediately. I’ve got some men holding Auxiliary Command, aft of section 12. I
think you’ve got a clear path if you can get up to the Main Control Deck. But
they’re not gonna last long, so you’ve gotta hurry!”
“Understood, Captain,” she replied, grateful for Carth’s
quick thinking. “We’re halfway there already! Shan out!”
She cut the link and glanced at Trask. The sergeant
turned around to get his bearings and pointed behind them. They had been headed
for the Bridge, but had passed the hatch to section 12 a few meters back. “We
may have to fight our way through,” he muttered, checking the battery charge on
his blaster. He discarded the drained battery pack and inserted a new one. He
slapped the receiver plate back into place and the blaster primed the charge
with a tiny whine. He nodded at Bastila, and the both of them headed back
towards the hatch.
“I know your mission is classified, ma’am,” Trask said as
they reached the hatch. “I just…I hope it was worth it, Commander…”
“Sergeant, you have no idea,” she assured him. But she
didn’t feel any of the certainty in her words. Her mission had depended on
secrecy, on stealth. But the Sith had caught up to them so easily. Maybe they
already knew about her mission. Of course, even if they didn’t; even if they
didn’t know that she was specifically attached to the mission, they’d be after
her. Of all the Jedi, Bastila Shan was unique due to her Battle Meditation.
Despair began to snake its way into her thoughts and
fiercely, she pushed it aside. The Jedi knows no fear.
Fear is the path to the Dark Side. Fear leads to anger; anger leads to hate;
hate leads to suffering…Bastila had to remember her training. She
had to remember her inner harmony; to draw upon it, allow it to shower over
her, cooling her mind, her reflexes. It may have been, perhaps, a mistake for
her to take this mission. But she would succeed. No matter the cost.
She nodded at Trask and he opened the door. Immediately,
the sounds of blaster fire washed over them. The sharp barking of Sith blasters
was unmistakable. She and Trask advanced quickly on the sound of the fighting,
and they turned around a corner to see a knot of Sith troopers, facing away
from them, trading fire with a handful of Republic soldiers.
“Wait for my signal before you open fire, Sergeant,”
Bastila ordered with a calm she wasn’t certain she felt.
She hurled herself down the corridor towards the
unsuspecting Sith. She moved with the Force, chewing up the distance faster
than any normal sentient could have. Still blistering with speed, she thrust
herself into the Sith position, igniting her lightsaber. She chopped all about
her, letting her instinct guide her. The Sith troopers screamed as her energy
blade boiled through their armor, disintegrating flesh and muscle and bone.
She hacked and spun; slashed and ducked and thrust. She
whirled down to a crouch, whipping her lightsaber behind her. Trask hadn’t even
had a chance to fire; all the Sith were now corpses. Trask caught up to her,
his eyes filled with that same amazement from before.
The Republic soldiers cheered her and advanced from their
positions down the corridor, before the hatch to Aux Command. A battered fire
team flanked her, gushing gratitude at her.
“We don’t have much time, Commander Shan,” a lieutenant
informed her, reloading his blaster rifle.
“I’m aware of the rush, Lieutenant,” Bastila replied. I’m
afraid we--”
“Have nowhere left to run,” hissed a new voice. They all
glanced down a side corridor to see a lone figure, clad in black robes and
shiny black leather. The flashing red of the emergency klaxon lights painted
his bald skull in bloody hues. He held a twin-bladed lightsaber in his gloved
fist. The red glow from the blade drenched him in its savage light.
The Republic soldiers around Bastila opened fire on the
Sith Lord, hurling a fusillade of energy bolts at him. He effortlessly caught
each with a whirl of his blade, deflecting two of the shots directly back into
the soldiers’ bodies. Two of them collapsed beside Bastila and a pang of fear
stabbed into her chest.
“Bastila Shan,” he chuckled, walking slowly towards her,
his steps heavy with confidence. “Your vaunted talents have been for naught, it
would seem. You cannot escape us, Jedi.”
Bastila lifted her blade before her. This man was Darth
Bandon. Once a Jedi; now the apprentice of the Dark Lord himself, Malak. “You
will not win, Bandon,” she told him, a flutter in her voice.
“I can feel the fear within you, Bastila. I remember you
were always fearful, even in the Academy. You’ve never conquered it, have you?”
“I certainly do not fear the likes of you, Bandon!”
“Lies. You cannot match me, girl. You never could in the
Academy, and you cannot now! For the Dark Side is my ally!”
“You’ve chosen to back a loser then, Bandon. Typical.”
He threw back his head and laughed. He had changed so
much from the youth she remembered. He had been two classes ahead of her in the
Academy; a promising student who outpaced her at every turn. She remembered how
handsome he had been. She’d even nursed a girlish crush on him as a child.
Now…now he was a monster.
“Your thoughts betray you, Basi,” he grinned, using her
old nickname. “Rest assured, I will not kill you. I will make you my slave. You
will know the passion of the Dark Side in my embrace, Basi. You will join with
me. You will belong to me!”
“Never!” she screamed. She charged towards him, her
thoughts filled with anger. But Trask and the lieutenant were able to grab her
arms and hold her. She tried to shake free of them; could have hurled them away
like rag dolls. But a strange calm entered her, defusing her rage. A familiar
voice entered her thoughts, with words to comfort as they always had; Bandon’s just a silly little boy, honey…
“There’s no time for this!” Trask yelled into her ear.
“You have to go!”
“The sergeant is right,” the Lieutenant agreed. “We’ll
hold him. You have to go! Now!”
“But, Lieutenant,” she cried, “he is a Dark Jedi! You
cannot hope to match his power!”
The lieutenant chuckled bitterly and pushed her behind
him. “Commander, I grew up in the Bowery on Coruscant. I fight dirty.” He
pulled forth a plasma grenade and armed it for a close proximity blast. That
would be suicide in the close quarters of the corridor. “Now go!” he shoved Bastila
towards Aux Command and howled in defiance at Darth Bandon.
“A futile gesture,” Bandon chuckled.
To which, the lieutenant only replied, “Nuts!” and hurled
the grenade. Bastila dashed through the hatch as it hissed open. Her last
glimpse of the fight showed Bandon raising a hand up, palm outstretched towards
the grenade. Then, there was a blinding flash and she heard Trask and the
others screaming.
The hatch closed behind her, and a blast door slammed
shut over it. The deck thundered with the blast, hurling her onto her chest.
Strong hands helped her up, and she heard Carth Onasi’s voice. Her eyes flashed
with spots from the intensity of the grenade’s blast, and she staggered in
Carth’s grasp.
“Damn it!” Carth hissed, staring at the blast door. “They’re
gonna have to find another way around!”
“They’re dead,” Bastila gasped, blinking her eyes
furiously to clear the swirling spots from her vision. “He killed them all!”
Carth absorbed her words and nodded resolutely. “Let’s go
then, Commander Shan.” He directed her towards a narrow side passage. On one
side stood a row of control panels. Opposite each panel stood the hatch to an
escape pod, recessed a foot or so into the deck.
Bastila allowed him to guide her before a hatch. He
manipulated the controls and the door flashed open. “Get in!” he cried as an
explosion pounded against the blast door. Bastila felt her eyes burning with
tears as she crawled inside. Carth cursed softly as a red glow began to issue
from the door’s surface. He crawled in behind her, squeezing against her in the
cramped interior of the pod. The hatch slammed shut behind him and sealed with
a hiss. Massive unseen gear clanked and banged; power conduits snarled as they
ripped free. With a roar, the pod leaped from its holding bay, slamming Bastila
and Carth hard with inertia’s hammer.
Bastila closed her eyes and prayed softly to herself,
relying on the mantra of the Jedi code, pleading for someone, for something to make sense of this madness, this war in heaven.
Perhaps a thousand years ago, Taris still had a surface.
Imagined now only in the lines of poets yearning for a fool’s return to green
shores, but otherwise unknown to the world’s inhabitants. Once, perhaps,
mountains had rolled across the flesh of the planet, hurling jagged spires like
proud fists into the sky. Once, perhaps, forests had flooded the plains with
sheets of green, churning with the drama of living things, hunting, hiding,
hooting.
But then, roads had been carved, black pavement slicing
across the skin of the world, leaving scars of progress. And cities had arisen
in tiered clusters, their steel and glass towers stealing the glory from the
once matchless mountains. Man had set his foot in the wilderness and left it
withering in his wake. Civilization had dammed the wild, penning it up into
tiny swatches that cowered in the shadow of the urban sprawl.
And then, even the pavement gave way to progress;
permacrete flattened the ground and made it uniform, flattening it so the
cities could expand and stretch even higher. So it came to pass that the new
forest of the Sprawl took root and grew. And like an old growth forest, it
lashed out across the land with thick roots, digging deep. The Arcologies came
soon thereafter. Cities within cities, habitats the size of entire mountain
ranges. The Sprawl matured, spreading crystalline fingers over the planet to
link and clench and squeeze the green into pulp.
So, now, there lived no one who could recall a time when
Taris knew anything of green. There lived no one who could recall anything
beyond geometrically perfect angles and engineered lines. And the cities of
Taris now stood united in a single gleaming lattice that hummed and bristled
all across her globe. One city now stood, covering an entire planet.
The tragedy was not that Taris was unique. But rather
that, now, it was like so many of the Old Worlds. Another piece of tooled steel
hanging in orbit around a wearied star.
Lal Sideen hated Taris. She didn’t exactly know why.
Perhaps it was because there was a fledgling memory that remained in her, of
oceans unchained, of fields of green and of brown. But that memory, like all
others, eluded her grasp like a wisp of smoke. Lal knew nothing of the past
beyond flashes of desperation and terror in her sleep. Nothing worth holding,
perhaps. So she endeavored to dwell only in the Now. The moment. That was all
that she could rely upon.
That, and whatever she could actually squeeze in her
fist.
Lal stood in her office, walking past the broad black
curve of her desk—her predecessor’s desk, actually. She smiled bitterly at the
knowledge that the desk had been moved to cover the old rust-colored stain set
into the taupe carpeting. Also her predecessor’s. It reminded her that nothing
could be counted upon. Everything was fleeting.
As she walked out onto the balcony that overlooked the
yawning, thrumming pit of the Daystar, she wondered at the close presence of
violence in her life. In her business. How easily she accepted it, even though
she yearned for the image of something more comforting. Foolish hopes. Leaning
forward against the railing, she reminded herself that it was all illusion. And
she was fitted properly for it. Tonight, she had chosen a sheath of
photo-reactive Myolin; a sheer piece of glimmering, diaphanous polymer that
adhered to her where she needed it to and flowed free where she wanted it to.
Lal’s body was a tool; she had learned this lesson directly from Davik. Her
body could be used to put means to an efficient end. That meant she was a tool;
certainly a well crafted and well-loved tool. But a tool nonetheless.
Dressed as she was, like a lush joygirl awaiting the
pleasure of the next mark, no one could even guess that she had dipped her
hands deep in blood. Sometimes, even she forgot. It was easy to forget when she
could stretch and purr and pretend to be as soft as her flesh suggested.
But it was, of course, nothing more than carefully
crafted pretence. She was a velvet blade. Davik’s velvet blade. She was his
tool.
Lal had to force herself not to reach up and tie her
loosened hair away into a severe little bun to keep it from her face. To keep
it efficient and out of her way. Instead, she left it to surge down the sides
of her face, down her bared shoulders and naked back like a forest of satin
chocolate swaying in the wind.
And below her, clubbers thronged and danced and chatted
each other up, writhing in the pit of the Daystar beneath a thundering sheet of
digi-synth pounding from speakers three meters tall. Pazaak tables clustered in
the smoke-colored shadows at the rear of the bar, and there, lifers and
professional cardies did the table dance with desperate eyes that warned this was no mere game. Life and death for some. And the
house always won, of course.
Not far away, the “arena” stood packed with spectators
cheering their favorite gladiators displayed on ten holo-vids with a live feed
to the numerous bloodmatches held in secret dens across
At the front of the Daystar, three stages floated on
repulsorlifts; at each, a girl danced in something less than actual clothing.
Customers watched glassy-eyed as the girls twisted and slithered. Soon, other
biz would be taking place in the Daystar’s back rooms.
Lal sighed in something as close to disgust as she could
manage. She was about to turn away when she noticed one of the new girls
getting pawed by some heavy-handed customers. A snarl flitted across Lal’s
painted lips and her eyes narrowed into slashes of black steel. She crossed her office swiftly,
heels clicking sharply as she threw the door open and headed downstairs.
*
“Get yer paws off me, chuba-face!”
“I don’t care what you think,”
“Gentlemen,” Lal said in her smooth whispering contralto.
She glanced up at both Rodians, and gave them enough time to recognize her.
Their black, glittering eyes flicked up and down her body, but they didn’t
pause. “I thought I made it clear to your friends last week. Vulkars aren’t
allowed.”
The one holding
“Be that as it may,” Lal continued softly, “I’m getting
tired of cleaning Vulkar blood off the floor. Leaves the most awful stink.”
Both Rodians gawked at her for a moment in utter
surprise. Before they could react to her insult, she flicked her hand out like
a spear and jabbed into the hollow of the closest Rodian’s throat. Gurgling
wetly, he stumbled back into his friend, and Lal dashed forward, yanking a tiny
hold-out blaster from the sheath fitted along the inside of her thigh. She
primed a charge and pressed it to the second Rodian’s temple.
She smiled sweetly as a bead of viscous sweat rolled down
his scaled cheek. He snarled a stream of curses at her and she shrugged
casually. “This is Davik’s place. And this,” she nodded at
Lal glanced at the other Rodian, who was fumbling for his
blaster. Her finger twitched slightly upon the trigger, ready to burn holes in
both of the ganger scum. But from the press of bodies, a massive furred paw
crunched down on the Rodian’s gun and hand, turning both into a ruin of blood
and steel. The Rodian hissed in agony, as a second wooly paw surged up to grab
his throat. He was then lifted off his feet by a mountain of snarling fur
called a Wookie. The Rodian’s bladder released as Zaalbar roared directly in
his face.
Lal nodded to the massive Wookie and her lips curled into
a lush grin. “Let the girl go and you get to live.”
It wasn’t really a choice. In seconds, both Rodians were
scrambling for the door, tossing threats and promises in their wake. Lal sighed
and holstered her blaster.
“And don’t come back, Poo-doo-breath!”
“
“I was just takin’ a break is all, Miss Sideen…I
wasn’t--”
Lal stared for a moment at the slender gold collar
clamped around
Of course, wearing little more than
“Oh, what are you looking at, Carpet?” Lal growled.
“She’s too damned soft for this crap. She’s gonna steel-up sooner than later.”
Zaalbar whuffed in disgust reflexively pawing at his own
throat, where once, another collar had ridden. “I didn’t
do her a favor, Carpet. And I spent all my charity already. Davik’s gonna have
her cancelled if she keeps this up.”
Thoughtfully, he growled and moaned softly at her.
Lal held up her hand abruptly to the Wookie. “We’re not
having this conversation. Just imagine if twi’leks do that life-debt thing too,
huh? Then I’ve got two mouths to bloody-well feed.
Zaalbar cocked his head to the side and grunted. At the
same time, he patted his furry belly.
Lal couldn’t stifle a smile. “Of course, everything
reminds you of food, Carpet. But you’re on the clock. Same as me.”
A forlorn howl shuddered out of him and he lumbered off
through the crowd. She watched him clear a path through the throng of tiny
bodies and chuckled. Though his breath smelled like the southern end of a
north-bound bantha, the big Wookie had managed to grow on her.
Lal turned to make her way back to her office, and caught
a cold shiver at the back of her neck. Gooseflesh erupted on her bare arms and
she suddenly caught a pair of hard blue eyes staring at her through the crowd.
He was a rugged sort, sculpted by hard hands into a bold frame. He was
offworld. She could taste it on him. Natives tended to hunch their shoulders
from living in the bowels of the city. He stood tall, unaccustomed to the sky
being only a few inches above him and made of metal.
Her eyes drifted down to his narrow hips and she noted
the weight he carried casually, the blaster holstered at his side. Soldier. Or
something just as professional. Lots of professionals hunting the
Maybe both.
*
As she stepped into her office, she saw Davik Kang
stretched out in her chair; his booted feet crossed and perched atop her desk.
He had a gammorean muscle-boy stuffed into a straining suit with him; the
massive pig-face was fingering one of the frozen carbonite sculptures mounted
on a shelf behind her desk. Lal cleared her throat and the gammorean’s
ham-shaped hands dropped the heavy sculpt onto his toe. His piggy little eyes
bulged in pain, but he clamped down on a squeal.
Davik chuckled easily and shook his head. His let his
eyes roam over her body and Lal endured his appreciative gaze for only a moment
before she folded her arms across her chest and began tapping a foot.
“Sweetheart, I’ll tell ya one thing,” Davik began. “You
know how t’make a package like that really work overtime.”
“Dressing the part, Davik. For some reason, that’s what
you wanted.”
“An’ I gotta say, I’m impressed. Killer fashion sense. Of
course, that’s par for the course where you’re concerned, am I right? Tell me,
how did I luck out with you, babe?”
“By agreeing not to call me ‘babe’ more than once every
three to four months.”
He released a laugh that touched absolutely no part of
his face. It was a mechanical sound. One he had tooled and machined to serve
only a cursory function. “That sounds about right. So, I’m all used up for
another few months, I reckon.”
She wanted to speed this up. Even though she and Davik
had a good arrangement, she felt ill at ease with the old cutthroat hanging
around. Whenever he came around, it usually meant someone had to die. At least,
that had been the case before he’d rewarded her with the Daystar; one of his
most profitable shell businesses.
He noticed her growing impatience and sighed. He glanced
at his gammorean as the creature fumbled to put the heavy sculpt back on the
shelf. “Whaddaya gonna do, eh? Ya can take ‘em outta the sewer, but ya can’t
take the sewer out of them, right? Am I right? Listen, sweetheart, fix us a
drink willya?”
Lal sighed inwardly. That meant there was business to
discuss. She drifted over to the liquor cabinet and poured him a Bespin
Cloudwalk on the rocks. She used the three-hundred year old Flanna that he
swilled like it was water. She brought it to him, noticing that his gaze
lingered on her bosom a bit longer than normal. He was in a staring-mood, she
guessed. Whatever. She sat on the edge of the desk, crossing her legs before
him and gazing down at him.
He took a sip and nodded appreciatively. But it wasn’t
long before his ego drove him to stand so he could look down on her. She took
the opportunity to slide back into her chair.
“Lookit, sweetness, we got trouble.”
“Alright. Who. What. Where. And should it be an
‘accident’?”
“That’s good,” he chuckled, pointing at her as he drifted
over to the balcony. “But not the kinda trouble you need to deal with on those
lines. I just got off the comm. With a guy I know on the Board. We’re getting a
visit. Political kind.”
“Republic sending another envoy?” she asked. “Why is this
a problem?”
“It ain’t the Republic. Sith. They’re comin’ t’dinner.
And it looks like they’re plannin’ on staying for dessert and a few drinks. And
the Tarisian government is rollin’ over to let ‘em climb right inta bed.”
Lal took in a deep breath and frowned in thought. “Not
logical. Taris may have been a hotbed of hyperspace traffic once upon a time,
but there are newer and better tradelanes. It’s a smuggler’s paradise exactly
for that reason. But any tactical significance Taris had is long since gone.”
“Taris is like a Urellian VineHusker. Gets too big and
don’t know it’s proper time t’die.” Davik took a swig of his Cloudwalker. “But
who knows what the sith consider important. Religious fanatics is what they
are. Never could trust a fanatic. Got no truck with ‘em, Lal. Can’t count on
‘em to do what they’re supposed t’do. Now the Republic? Buncha politicks.
Grease the right palm and they love ya. You can deal with that sort.”
A cold tremor shook through Lal’s chest. “They’re looking
for something. Or someone.”
“Eh? I don’t really care what the hell they’re on about
so long as they don’t screw with my operation. Skinny is that they’re sending a
full diplomatic compliment planetside. Likely to park a heavy battle element
right above our heads. An’ ‘diplomatic compliment’ probably means landin’ a
couple thousand troops. Gonna definitely put a crimp on my ops.”
Lal nodded as she considered his words. “Admittedly, this
stinks. But what do you want me to do about it? It’s not like I can intimidate
an entire empire. Besides which, Ordo and that thug Nord are better equipped
for the arm-breaking. You’re the one with the politicks in your pocket.”
“Yeah, he mused, “most’a which, you got for me. I’m gonna
need ya t’work your magic again, sweetness. The special mojo.”
“Davik…”
“Don’t ‘Davik’ me, honey. Just do what you do.”
“Davik! You’ve got slaves for this sort of crap!”
He tossed back the rest of his drink and held the glass
up, jiggling the ice expectantly. With a growl, she pushed up from her chair
and snatched the glass away from him. She returned to the liquor cabinet and
made him another.
He took the drink with a grateful grin. “Slaves ain’t
you, Lal. You could make a man forget his religion. I don’t know what it is you
got, but you know how to make a guy crave it.”
Of course she did. Those contacts she’d purchased for
him…a few still belonged to her alone. That didn’t mean she enjoyed it. For a
moment, she thought of poor little
“Damnit, Davik! These Sith are Jedi! But worse! You said
it: fanatics! I’m good, but I can’t seduce a religious nut. These Sith…they eat
babies and all that. Blood sacrifices and crazy stuff like that. You don’t
seduce people like that. You simply stay out of their way and hope they don’t
decide to start cutting pieces of your body off while you watch.”
“Yeah, well, that ain’t an option. I got schedules to
keep. Deliveries to make. I got three hundred thousand kees of mimetic
polyalloy de-vulcanizing on the loading blocks in sector-12! I got a load of
spice waiting to get a green light to Coruscant! Stuff don’t keep this far out
from Kessel, Sweetness. I’m a businessman. For me, time is money. And that
includes your time. So you get off’a that pretty backside a’yours and get to
work. I want one’a these fruitcakes in my pocket before the end of the week!
Got me?”
She lowered her eyes and glanced away. “Yeah. I got it.”
“Damn right you do. Damn right.” He stared at her a
moment longer before a smile broke across his face. “Cripes. What am I yellin’
at you for? You know the drill. You’re good girl, Lal. Saw how you handled
those Vulkar punks. You got stones, I’ll give ya that. I also saw how ya
handled that twi’lek. All my girls work, you got that? That twi’lek is top of
the line merchandise, no lie. But I’ll burn her down in a hot second if I think
she ain’t gonna be worth the price I paid. Everybody’s replaceable, Sweetness.
Everybody.”
And at that moment, Lal knew, beyond any doubt, that it
was now only a matter of time before Davik got rid of her. Maybe she hadn’t
been as careful as she’d thought…
Zaalbar groaned and whuffed softly at her as they walked
the poorly lit corridor that led away from the Daystar. Lights flickered
overhead, threatening to give up the ghost, and she only then realized he was
talking to her.
“Hm? Is it that obvious?” she asked, a faint smile
slipping across her lips. She had since changed into her customary black
Slipsuit. It was a shiny black mono-piece that spacers once wore beneath clunky
old exposure suits, long before artificial environment systems had made such
necessities extinct. Pitfighters favored them because the Slipsuits were slick
and, well, slippery. Damned near impossible to get a good grasp on someone
wearing a Slipsuit. And Lal favored them for exactly the same reason. It hugged
her body as close as a second skin, and she didn’t mind that so much either. In
a fight, her curves made fools of men. And foolish men so often became dead men
if she had a say in it. Smoke and mirrors. That what she was. Outside of the
club, she wore her blasters openly, mounted in a twinned rig on a belt slung
low across her hips.
Zaalbar lumbered beside her, his feet pounding the aged
deck plates rusting away beneath them. As was his custom, the Wookie favored no
clothing over his thick coat of brown and black fur. He wore only a shoulder
harness studded with pockets stuffed with tools and hidden weapons. As they
continued to walk, he waited for a response to his observation. Not many people
on Taris could make any sense of a Wookie’s grunts and warbling growls. But Lal
understood him as easily as she understood Basic.
Still, she didn’t respond. She felt his clear-eyed
scrutiny, and knew that she couldn’t ever hide her feelings from him. He was
too bloody astute. Wookies were far more keen-witted than anyone—including Lal,
initially—gave them credit for. She failed to understand, of course, why saving
his life had meant he’d constantly be
attending to her state of mind. She’d come to understand that he had little
stomach for the sort of life she led. He was, at times, more trouble than he
was worth. And his breath really stank.
“If you must know,” she finally sighed in exasperation,
“I’m tired. Tired of being--”
He interrupted with a snarling chuckle, his primal grunts
chopping out a phrase that made her eyes bulge and which set her teeth in a
grim, tight line.
“I was not going to say, ‘piece of meat’, Carpet…”
reflexively, she thought back to poor
That ended the conversation efficiently enough. But Lal
had the sense from his knowing expression that her outburst had communicated
exactly what she had intended to hide. Damned Wookie.
Silently, they turned onto the broad avenue known as the
It was even past the hour when street-filthy hookers
prowled the shallow alcoves looking to sell some of their flesh. Clusters of
homeless tunnel drovers huddled over makeshift pit-fires, warming their hands
in the sweating chill of the underground. Above them, there was the constant
and distant hum of SpeederRails, running all night long in the glittering
UpCity.
Davik’s little conversation had kept her longer than she
preferred. She hated walking the
Usually.
She almost didn’t notice the cold tickle along her
spine.; her mind was so filled with Davik’s words. But when Zaalbar’s wet nose
twitched at a captured scent, Lal’s body took charge and pushed the massive
Wookie to the side. She used his mass to push herself in the opposite direction
as a blaster bolt sizzled through the air between them.
Lal went to the ground on her shoulder and rolled, coming
up in a crouch, with both blasters flashing into her hands. Instinct guided her
aim and she snapped off a flood of shots. The blasters hammered in her palms,
spitting bursts of coherent energy into a dense mass of shadows at the mouth of
a side tunnel. She heard a gasp and a Rodian body tumbled out of the shadows
onto the deck. A human stepped from the shadows and continued firing at her.
But she was already on the move, launching from her crouch and rolling again.
Once more she came up into a crouch and fired, her brace of shots going wide.
Another volley of fire lanced at her from behind ,
pressing her and Zaalbar pressed against a wall. “Crossfire,” she grunted at
him. He nodded and moaned sharply as they both realized they had stumbled into
a trap. Glancing to see the second shooter, several meters up the
“Damn,” she hissed, and Zaalbar snarled a curse of his
own. He drew a snap-baton from one of his cargo pouches and flicked it open in
one massive paw. The end of the baton crackled with electricity as it hissed
through the air.
“Hey, Lal!” a voice called out. One she recognized. Savin
Noo. He had been one of Davik’s soldiers when Lal was still a rookie. Now, he
ran with the Vulkars. Davik just wasn’t bloody enough for him. “You know we got
you. Dead to rights, baby. You put down the heaters and we’ll have us a chat,
eh?”
Zaalbar howled out a sharp curse, telling Savin exactly
where he could stuff his chat. Lal examined her options. She had ducked and
dodged before, but was caught in the open. They could burn her down at any
moment. There was only one reason they hadn’t done so; they wanted to play.
“This is a dumb move, Savin,” Lal called out as he stepped
out into view with two other Vulkars beside him. “Davik’s gonna cut you down
for this.”
“Davik ain’t here,” Savin observed. He grinned at her,
leering, a sneer wrenching his features. “You shouldn’t oughtta messed with the
Vulkars, Lal. We own LowCity. You don’t make clowns of the Vulkars without some
payback. And I think I know how to collect.”
“Well, at least you’re up to full sentences now, Savin,”
Lal tossed back. “I remember a time when a grunt and a fart was about as
prolific as you could manage. Soon you’ll be up to multiple syllables. Pretty
ambitious for scum like you.”
Fury twisted his features in a knot. “Y’know, killing you
would be too easy and not enough fun. I’m gonna carve my name onto your--”
Blaster fire sang out with a sharp staccato hiss, and
Savin whirled around. Lal took the opportunity and tossed a few spears of
energy into his back. Energy bolts sizzled past her hair as she dropped low and
kept firing.
The Vulkar in the tunnel behind her cut his losses and
turned tail. Savin and his pals got themselves chewed into smoking piles of
refuse, however. They had enough time to squeal a few curses; Savin lived just
long enough to hiss out a wet death rattle from his throat. When the blaster
fire died down, Lal saw a figure emerge from the smoke rising off of Savin’s
body. The man from the club.
“Streets are pretty lively at night,” the man chuckled.
“Maybe you ought to put that into your travel brochures…”
Lal flipped her guns up, aimed at his head and his chest.
Zaalbar simply howled.
“Whoa,” the human said, holding his pair of blasters up
and away from her. “I’m not here to fight you.”
“I’m supposed to care?”
The man paused with a frown; he didn’t seem prepared for
that reply. “Alright, now look, I just wanna talk with you.”
“Seems like you are talking.”
Again, he was a bit thrown off. His dark eyes glanced at
her twin guns and he shrugged. “You mind pointing those things somewhere else,
maybe? I did just save your life. Listen…my
name’s Carth. Carth Onasi. I just wanna talk to you.”
“Who do you work for, Carth Onasi?”
“I…I don’t work for anybody.”
Zaalbar grunted his distrust of the man, and for once,
Lal totally agreed with the Wookie. “Mmm-hmm. You were in the Daystar earlier.
Now, here you are. The way I look at it, that’s either one of two
possibilities: A coincidence…or you’re looking to get a date with me. Problem
with the first scenario is…I don’t believe in coincidences. As such, that makes
you a hitter. Maybe you’re working for the Hutts. Problem with the second
scenario is…I don’t do dates. And one thing I certainly don’t do is talk.”
“Er…right…well…you sure say a lot for a lady who doesn’t
‘talk.’”
“Shut up, Carth Onasi. Carpet, take his guns.”
Zaalbar growled at her indignantly at the same time that
Carth flicked his blasters back in line with her. “Whoa!” he cried out. “Nobody
touches my blasters.”
Lal’s blood began to chill in her veins. Her eyes
narrowed at the handsome rogue standing across from her, with his blasters
leveled at her. Zaalbar stood off to the side, glancing back and forth between
the two.
“Listen, lady,” Carth began soothingly, “I’m sure neither
of us wants to do this. Like I said, I
just need to talk to you. But the Wookie’s not touching my weapons. How about
we both hang our heaters up, and--”
“You first, handsome.”
He rolled his eyes, but nodded. Slowly, he lowered his
weapons and holstered them at his hips. She waited several moments, and put her
guns away as well. “Okay,” she sighed. “You want to talk. What do want to talk
about, Carth Onasi? The weather? Arena stats? Politics?”
He opened his mouth to speak, but then glanced around and
paused. “You think maybe we could…I don’t know…find a place a little less
exposed, here? Those thugs are probably gonna return with reinforcements…”
As he spoke, Lal noticed the dark bloom of a recent
bruise above his left eye. And the surplus fatigues he wore could not be
purchased anywhere on-planet. When she had seen him earlier, she had made a
wild guess he was military. Now, with Davik clamoring about the Sith coming to
town, Lal was almost certain.
“Alright, Carth Onasi. I was on my way to pick up
something to eat. You can buy me and the Carpet, here, a late dinner.”
The Wookie roared at her and she cringed.
“Alright!” she roared back. “His name is Zaalbar. I just
call him ‘Carpet’ because he lays about.”
The corner of Carth’s mouth twitched up in a crooked
grin. Oh, he was definitely a rogue, Lal decided. Even if he was a soldier.
“Dinner, huh?” Carth chuckled, “sounds like a date to
me…” Lal whirled on him, and snapped open her mouth to chew out a reply, but
Carth immediately turned to Zaalbar and went on: “Zaalbar, huh? Pleased to meet
you.”
As they all fell in step, Zaalbar growled out a warning
to Carth about pissing Lal off. Carth obviously understood Shryiiwook, because
he nodded and gave an innocent shrug. “Just making conversation is all…”
Lal decided not to rise to the bait and simply fell
silent. But as they left the
*
Calo Nord crouched over one of the bodies and chuckled in
bemused disgust. He adjusted his multi-optic goggles to cycle from low-light to
IR and rifled through the dead Rodian’s pockets. These idiot Vulkars were
pathetic scum. He’d be doing the galaxy a favor if he simply walked into their
base and burned each of them down. Of course, Calo Nord wasn’t the type of man
to do anyone a favor. He wasn’t the highest paid bounty man this side of Ord
Mantell because he did favors.
He glanced up to watch the retreating trio, and realized
Lal Sideen had stopped and was peering curiously back into the shadows of the
alley where he knelt over the dead Rodian. Could she see him? Not possible. The
overcoat he wore had circuitry that randomized colors and broke up his shape at
a distance; to anyone not wearing a set of optics like his own, he’d easily
blend in with the shadows.
Still…Sideen was an odd bird. Damned easy on the eyes,
sure. But that made her even more deadly. Lal Sideen was built like a joygirl,
but she had the pedigree of a dyed in the wool killer. Rumor had it Davik had
been using her to cancel his rivals and competition long before Nord had come
to Taris.
Nord didn’t put much faith in rumors. Especially the
rumors tossed back and forth by Davik’s particular brand of halfwit thug. A
largely incompetent lot. But there was something about Sideen. She didn’t move
or carry herself like a professional; no. Of that much he was certain. She
moved more like…like some sort of predatory animal. A big graceful hunter that
ruled the night; like the sable coated sabercats native to the world where he’d
spent a bitter childhood. In the nights, laying on his belly to let the lashes
on his back heal, he would squeeze his eyes tightly shut and listen to their
deep growls as they prowled the woods. Once, he had seen one make a kill; the
Yondari sabercat was a toil of steely muscles and casual easy grace. Every step
it made had been delicately choreographed millions of years past. It was a
regal beast; majestic. Lal Sideen walked with that same majesty. And everything
that fell beneath her gaze was prey. She operated from the same program of
instincts as those wondrously lethal felines.
Maybe his imagination was working on him. The mere sight
of her distracted him. Sideen had that affect on males. And that troubled Calo
Nord. In the past, he’d always been able to push aside his desires to do the
job. He saw women as little more than brief diversions for his pleasure, but
even so, that didn’t keep him from burning a pretty little thing down if the
price was right. He was too good at his job for that nonsense.
But here he was going and letting himself get all
fascinated with Lal Sideen. Damn that woman! What was it about her, anyway?
Hmm. Maybe the legs. Nord had always been a leg-man, after all.
“Oh, we’ll find out what makes you so special,
sweetheart,” Nord whispered in his wintery rasp. His eyes narrowed behind his
goggles as she shrugged and joined her pals. “I promise you that…”
“Talking to yourself, Calo?” a rough voice scraped
against him. Nord whirled in surprise to see a powerful figure clad entirely in
Mandalorian Armor leaning casually against the wall behind him. Nord’s gun
whipped up instinctively, but the armored figure went on. “They say that
talking to oneself is a sure sign of madness. Like a mad Kath Hound. Got to put
‘em down.”
“Canderous,” Nord hissed, rising to his feet and stowing
his blaster. He nodded towards the helmet the man wore and said, “What’s with
the facemask? You on a hunt?”
Canderous Ordo reached up behind his helmet and pressed a
hidden tab. The helmet split apart into a series of panels, which all slid into
the collar of his armor. His scarred leathery face creased in an ugly smile.
“In a manner of speaking,” he replied. His voice grated like steel over stone.
“Ah. And here, I thought you were washed—I
mean…heh…retired. Heh.”
Canderous simply shook his head. “It never grows old for
you does it, Calo? You couldn’t feel alive without brushing up against the next
dog, vying for space. Could you?”
“Competition defines order and efficiency, old man. It’s
the way of the universe.”
“No Calo, it actually isn’t. You’ve got to be able to
learn from the fight. And that’s something Kath hounds can’t do. That’s why
they can’t be domesticated for long. Only the…pups.”
Nord bristled at the insult. If it had been anyone other
than Canderous Ordo, Nord would be staring at a smoking corpse. And still, if
Canderous Ordo had not been Davik’s top man…
“Well, Canderous, as the old dogs eventually learn…things
change.”
Canderous chuckled. “I like you, Calo. You’re my kind of
scum. But a word to the wise. Lal Sideen? She may look soft and lush, like a
rainforest swathed in morning sunlight and dew. But that forest is a dangerous
and cruel place to find yourself. Respect it, and maybe you’ll survive the
experience. Disrespect it at your peril.”
Nord eased back and bit and sighed. “You’re just full of
colorful metaphors, aren’t you? How poetic. Obviously you’ve bought into this
idiotic myth surrounding the girl. She’s just a piece of fluff, Canderous. And
you? Well, your age is showing. Old man. I’ve got business.”
“I know about your
‘business’ Calo.”
Nord paused for a moment, glaring darkly up at the
towering Mandalorian. “Then you know to stay out of my way.”
*
“Lala Sideeni Nooda Chuuda!” Lien Lumb cried out as Lal
approached the Sullustan’s noodle kiosk. The ancient Sullustan chattered happily
at her in his high speed patois, utterly mangling the Huttese trade language
most of the aliens on Taris spoke. Lal had a good ear for languages, but could
only ever pick up one word in three when Lien Lumb was going at full speed.
But he made her smile with the way he jabbered at his
five sons, all stuffed into the kitchen area behind the kiosk. She slid up onto
a battered stool and leaned over the top of the food bar. Zaalbar stood beside
her, cocking his head curiously at the Sullustan’s chatter. Zaalbar sighed and
shook his head and merely pointed to the numbered menu above Lien Lumb’s bald
pate. He picked platter numbers three, twelve, seventeen and two number sixes.
“Ay ayh!” Lien cried out in shock. And then he began
firing off orders to his sons. The food sizzled loudly behind him and Lal
chuckled her agreement.
“Yeah, he rather does have a
belly like a black hole. And it eats at my credit account too…” Lal sighed and
glanced behind her at Carth. He was standing there looking like a lost puppy,
staring incomprehensibly at the menu. Though Lien Lumb spoke in Huttese, the
menu was entirely in his native Sullustan. Lal often forgot that very few
humans ever bothered to learn to read anything other than Basic. “Seafood and
noodles, Mr. Onasi. Try the shellfish Lan Oodah.”
“Ah…there’s…there’s no ocean on Taris…”
“Heavens. Listen, Lien gets all of his stuff from a
Quarren harvester operation that ships daily to like…fifteen planets in this
sector. It’s good.” Lal patted the seat beside her. “Sit, Onasi. I’m hungry.”
He swallowed his doubt and climbed onto the stool at her
side. “What’d you call it? ‘Lan Noodah?’”
“’Lan oodah!’” Lien corrected him. “‘oodah!’ Oodah! Goom
Yumma yumma yumma,” he went on, switching to Sullustan briefly. “
Lal opened her mouth in pretended shock. “You old flirt.
I’m going to tell your wife if you keep that up.”
Zaalbar grunted sardonically, and Lien released a
belly-borne laugh. Lal smiled despite her mood and turned to explain to a
clueless Carth. “Lien has fifteen wives. Zaalbar just said…”
Carth nodded and waved his hand, “Yeah, I picked that up.
‘which one.’ This place…”
Lal watched him as Zaalbar got the first of his platters
and began digging in. It was simply good policy to let the Wookie eat first.
Her food was on the grill already. “What about ‘this place?’” she nudged.
Carth glanced around and shrugged. “I’ve been up one side
of the Rim and down the other, Ms. Sideen. It’s rare to see a planet where
aliens are…segregated so openly as they are here. For all the beauty of
“Well, admittedly, it doesn’t get high marks on Republic
tourist brochures. But nobody ever said the galaxy was a fair place.”
Carth nodded and stared distantly, his eyes boring past
the kiosk to some faraway sight. “No. Not fair at all…”
Lal continued to study him, even as Lien pushed a plate
in front of her. “Well, Carth Onasi. I’m trying to figure you out. You don’t
look like a Sith. So…what’s a Republic soldier doing on a decidedly
non-republic backwater?”
“I never said I was a soldier.”
“And I never said I was stupid.”
He frowned at her for a moment, but finally nodded.
“Alright. Guilty as charged. Very perceptive.”
“I get that a lot. So you planning on answering my
question?”
“Hold on. I’m the one who
wanted to talk to you. Remember?”
Lal dug into her noodles and poured a liberal dose of
meelee green sauce on as she ate. The green meelee leaf, when ground up, was
one of the most volatile substances known. She was certain that it could be
used as a natural explosive. But on Sullustan food, it was utterly exquisite.
For most non-Sullustans who tried it, meelee granted them the ability to breath
flames. Well, almost. Lal had an iron stomach, though. And the hotter the
better, as far as she was concerned.
“Listen to me, Carth Onasi. I don’t really care much who
you are or what you want. You see this place here? This is mine. The people who
operate their businesses here…they’re almost all aliens, but they do so in
peace because of the security I provide. They know me. They like me. If I put
out a single word, you’d be dead inside of a day. Understand? So when you want
to play games with Lal Sideen, you follow her rules. Or you walk.”
“Security you provide, huh? Where was that security when
you were pinned down by blaster fire an hour ago, huh? I think I had a little
something to do with the fact that you’re still breathing.”
“And you have my gratitude. I didn’t kill you out of
hand, did I?”
“Oh, I get it. No good deed goes unpunished. Is that
right?”
Lal sighed. “That’s correct. Because in LowCity, there is
no such thing as a good deed. Now, you obviously know who I am. But I still
don’t know you. This is me trusting you. I’m sitting here, chatting amicably
with you. See? Trusting. I’m eating with you. Trusting, haven’t killed you yet.
Still trusting.”
“All right, all right. I swear…” Carth shook his head and
reached for the meelee sauce when his food arrived. “Is this stuff hot?”
“Define ‘hot.’”
He groaned and shook his head again. “Nevermind. If you
can handle it…”
She chuckled softly and watched as he downed his first
mouthful. She saw his eyes water as the sauce hit his tongue. He gulped and
reached for a glass of water. Lal stopped him. “Water only increases the heat,
I’m afraid.”
“Oh…it’s n-not h-hot…I…just had something c-caught in
my…throat…is all…”
“Of course,” she smiled. Lien and Zaalbar both howled in
laughter.
She felt a brief moment of sympathy for Carth and patted
his back. Carth recovered after a moment or two and fanned his mouth. “Oh yeah.
That’s the good stuff. You, uh…eat this stuff on a regular basis?”
“Every chance I get. I like it hot.” She realized what
she said about a second after it slipped out of her mouth. Carth coughed loudly
and Zaalbar arched a fuzzy eyebrow. “I mean…”
“I’m sure you do, “Carth rasped. “You know where I could
get a good deal on a cyber-stomach replacement? I think my intestines are
melting over here…”
Lal found herself grinning. It was very hard to dislike
this soldier, she decided. She ordered two Tarisian ales and patted his knee.
“Drink some of this. It cuts the heat.”
He snatched up the mug provided and drained half of it in
a matter of seconds. After he downed it, he breathed a bit easier and nodded
his thanks to her. “Hey…that’s actually pretty good…”
“Yeah. I think it brings out the flavor of the sauce.
Feel better?”
“Uh…much. Yeah.” He wiped the corners of his mouth with a
napkin and pushed his plate away. “Alright. As I said, my name’s Carth Onasi.
I’m a republic soldier. I was part of a survey mission, scouting out hyperspace
routes that the Sith didn’t know about or routinely use. We ran afoul of a Sith
Interdictor a few systems away. They yanked us out of Hyperspace, but we held
our own long enough to get the mains back up. But they didn’t let up on us.
Rather than lead them back to one of our bases, we chose the Taris system. Of
course, the Sith being who and what they are, smelled blood in the water. When
we made the jump into normal space, they were right behind us with damn near an
entire battle element. She pulverized our ship, the Endar Spire. We were forced
to abandon her.
“The bastards starting shooting the escape pods out of
the sky. It was…a massacre. I don’t know if any of the other pods survived, but
there was another soldier on my pod. A…woman. She, uh…was injured during the
fight on the Spire…Our pod hit in…well, it looked like the lower part of the
city.” He pointed to the bruise over his eye. “I took a bump on the landing.
Nothing serious, though. Listen, thing of it is; as soon as we crashed, there
were…I don’t know, raiders. A lot of them. They were wearing the same colors as
those guys we killed earlier. I tried to stay and fight, but they had me
outnumbered. I had to get away. I had to…to leave my friend behind…So…after I
found a place to lay low, I began asking around. I was directed to you. I was
told you could help me find her.”
“If she’s still alive.”
He thought about it for a moment. “If she’s…still alive.”
“Who sent you to me?”
“Twi’lek woman. I needed parts for my droid. She had a
shop apparently. I think her name was…ah…Janice. Yeah. Janice Nall. She told me
to go to the Daystar and ask for Lal Sideen.”
Lal nodded, sipping at her ale. “Okay. Do you know what
it is that I do, Carth?”
“I…have an idea. You’re a gangster. You work for some big
muckety-muck called Davik. As I understand it, he’s a member of the Exchange.
Took control of Taris’s syndicated operations from the Hutts. They’d put a
death sentence on him if they didn’t mind starting a war with the Exchange. Or
so I hear.”
“I’m impressed. You hear very well, apparently. But not
well enough. Didn’t I tell you I wasn’t stupid?”
“Huh? Yeah…I--”
Lal held up a hand and glared at him. “Allow me to
reiterate. I am not stupid. Do not treat me as such. Are we clear?”
“I…I’m sorry. I’m not following…did I offend you
somehow…?”
“No. You simply lied to me is all. You are not part of a
survey mission. The Sith don’t park a fleet over our heads and land a
‘Diplomatic Contingent’ just because of a survey mission. And I don’t believe
in coincidences, remember?”
“I can’t help what you believe or don’t…a fleet you say?”
“From what I’ve heard of the Sith,” Lal went on, “they
don’t do anything randomly. They are very…focused. A mere survey mission isn’t
important enough for them to do this. And I find it hard to believe that they’d
just…out of the blue…decide to come to Taris.”
Carth’s brow creased in concern and he massaged his jaw
thoughtfully. “You’re sure of this?”
“It’s fact, Onasi. They’re looking for someone. And I
think they’re looking for you and your girlfriend. You feel like revising your
story? Go ahead. Take your time.”
Carth stared over at her, his dark eyes searching hers.
“I…no. I can’t. I mean…obviously, you’re right…damn it…of course, it was just a
matter of time…Alright. The truth is, I can’t tell you about the mission.
Sorry, but I’m not gonna betray the Republic to a…a…criminal I hardly trust.”
“Fair enough,” she smiled. “Of course, I have no reason
to help you.”
He scowled darkly at her. “What about owing me your life?
Isn’t that enough? I don’t care how important or tough you are, those guys back
there were gonna have a party with you! And it wasn’t gonna be pretty. And maybe they would have killed you when they were done! If you
were lucky! You…you owe me. It’s as simple as that.”
“In a perfect world, you’d be absolutely right. But this
is Taris. We’re about a quarter million light years from perfect. How do I know
you didn’t set up a deal with those Vulkars to ambush me?”
He gasped incredulously. “Well, maybe because I shot them! Why would I shoot my own allies?”
“I can think of a number of reasons” she told him calmly,
fixing him with a cool glare. “It makes sense to sacrifice an asset to get
something you want. People do it all the time. It’s called capitalism.”
“I—you…you’re a real piece of work, lady. I guess that’s
business as usual for you, but not for me. Besides, that’s just absurd. I nearly
got killed too, if you didn’t notice! Even if I was as ruthless as you
apparently are, that would just be stupid!”
“I don’t make assumptions at the intellect of my
opponents. I don’t make assumptions at all. That’s why I’m still alive.”
He pushed up from the stool and chuckled bitterly. “Well,
that’s just great. You know what, never mind. You’re just as much scum as those
guys we killed earlier. I don’t need your brand of help, anyway. Too
expensive.”
Lal exploded from her seat and jabbed a finger in his
direction. “You listen to me, you mouth-breathing, nerf-stinking, broken down
son of a--”
“Oh yeah, tell me how you really
feel, babe. Go ahead.”
“Oh, I intend to, flyboy! Don’t interrupt me!”
“Oh, I’ll interrupt you, babe.”
“And don’t call me ‘babe!’”
“Sorry. How’s ‘sweetcakes?’ is that better?”
Lal’s logic disintegrated in a cloud of red fury and a
blaster leaped into her hand. In slow motion, she saw Carth reaching for his
own blaster, but she was much quicker. Surprise bloomed upon his face as she
pressed to cold muzzle of her weapon up under his throat.
“Give.
Carth could only stare at her helplessly. “Go ahead. Do
it. Kill me in cold blood. That’s what you’re all about, right?”
“You have no idea,” she snarled, feeling her lips peel
back like an animal baring its fangs.
And, as swiftly as the rage swam over her, its hot shadow
passed, leaving her feeling cold and empty. She glared into Carth’s eyes and
tried to muster up the anger from a few seconds ago. But it was gone. She
didn’t want to kill him. She didn’t even think he was trying to angle her into
a trap. She looked into his eyes and knew he would
never harm her. Never betray her.
And maybe that was what had made her so angry in the
first place.
Furious at herself, she lowered her blaster. She turned
away from him, and, avoiding Zaalbar’s intense stare, she sat down again. She
began picking through her food listlessly.
“Alright,” Carth sighed, taking a deep and nervous
swallow. “I’m out of here. It’s been fun, lady. Enjoy your screwed up life.”
“The Black Vulkars,” she said weakly, her voice breaking.
“Black whatsis?”
“Vulkars!” she said, a bit sharply. “Black Vulkars.
They’re a gang in LowCity. The idiots who attacked me. Same people who got your
ladyfriend by the sound of it. If she’s still alive.”
“Okay…”
“For all the good it will do you. Or her. If she’s alive,
she’ll be wishing she wasn’t. The Vulkars are slavers. Women aren’t…we don’t do
well in LowCity.”
“Well…you seem to have done well…”
She whirled on him savagely, but managed to get her anger
under control before it flared up again. “I…do not speak on matters of which
you know nothing.”
“Listen, lady--”
“No,” she said calmly, “you listen. The Vulkars are more
than a bunch of thugs. They are organized. They have…ambitions. They work with
the Hutts…at least, that’s what we’ve been hearing. They don’t have much in the
way of juice, but they do have numbers. And a surprising thirst for bloodshed.
Your friend is going to be a joygirl. If she’s pretty. If she’s beautiful,
they’re going to use her long before they sell her. And she’s still going to
end up as a joygirl. If she’s alive, Carth, she probably already wishes she was
dead. I’m…I’m sorry to say this to you…but it’s how Taris works.”
Carth sighed heavily and sat down beside her again. “You,
uh…you sound like you’ve got first hand knowledge about this.”
“I…I suppose I do. But not in the way you mean. Women are
an industry on Taris. No matter what you do, no matter how you do it, you
become a commodity on the virtue of your sex.”
“Lal…there are other ways. Other ways to get by. To get
ahead, even.”
“Of course,” she said bitterly. “And is this how the
Republic recruits soldiers?”
“No. Not exactly. But just because this is how things are
done on Taris doesn’t mean it’s right. Or that it’s the only
way. That’s just stupid. And like you said…you’re not stupid.”
Lal turned and stared deeply into his eyes. Again, she
was submerged in the sea of his honesty, his openness. His…his effortless
nobility. He had no thoughts of betrayal. Of hurting her.
“Listen, Lal…I need your help. I’m…I’m willing to pay--”
She chuckled and shook her head. “I tend to doubt it. You
can’t even afford clean clothes, Carth Onasi. But even if you could, I don’t
think I could help you. I don’t even think I should. You’re trouble. You might
not mean to, but you’re a walking death sentence, Carth. I briefly considered
using you. Selling you out to the Sith so they’d cut our business operations
some slack. But I’m thinking they’d just kill me as well. You’re too hot.”
Carth smiled, and his eyes glinted roguishly. “I’ve
gotten out of worse scrapes.”
“I…doubt it. Your government’s fight against these Sith
is going to get you cancelled, I think.”
“Maybe tomorrow, but not today. Listen…I can’t tell you
about my mission…but I can tell you this: you’re right. If you turned me over
to the Sith, they would kill you. For wasting their
time. They don’t care about me. I’m just a cog on a wheel as far as they’re
concerned.”
“And your companion?”
“Well…I won’t lie…she’s more important than I am…but
neither of us are who the Sith are interested in. I can’t tell you anymore than
that.”
“And I don’t want to know,” she told him earnestly.
“Carth, I’m going to give you some advice. Do you mind?”
He grinned at her and said, “My mama told me to never say
‘no’ to a beautiful woman…who happens to be quicker on the draw with a
blaster…”
“Get off this planet before it’s too late. You stick out
like a sore thumb. You can’t help your friend.”
He thought about it and took a sip of his Tarisian ale.
“I’m afraid, for me, it’s not that simple. See, when I was coming up in the
Service, we were taught to never leave a man behind. I don’t do it. So…I’m gonna save her. Or die trying. All I’m asking for is a
little help.”
“I…” her mouth snapped shut as a random thought crossed
her mind. She snatched a hold of it and examined it a bit more closely.
“Actually…I might be able to help you after all. Or at least…point you in the
right direction.”
“Sounds good to me…”
“Cool your jets, flyboy. I’ll need to arrange an
introduction. And I won’t be able to do that until tomorrow night. After that,
you’re on your own.”
He mulled it over for a moment and nodded once. “Okay.
How do I get in touch with you? Should I just meet you at the Daystar tomorrow
night?”
“No. That’s too risky. Besides which, I’ve got some other
business to attend to. Go to Javyar’s Cantina. It’s right off the
He glanced down at his clothes and frowned up at her.
“What’s wrong with…what’s wrong with the way I look? I don’t…I look fine…”
“You look scruffy,” she grinned, patting him on the
shoulder as she rose from her stool. That wouldn’t be such a problem, but you
look like a scruffy off-worlder. Shave. And find some local style. Now, I have
to go and get some sleep.”
“Ah…sweet dreams, then.”
She glanced back at him over her shoulder and chuckled
bitterly. “Don’t hold your breath, flyboy. Come on, Carpet.”
*
Admiral Saul Karath clasped his gloved hands behind his
back and gazed out the forward screens into the vast luminous black of space.
Hanging just above the lower edge of the screen, there floated the steely blue
globe of Taris. Karath’s eyes narrowed into black slits as he stared down at
the world. From this altitude, he could trace the forgotten vaguery of
continents now merged together beneath the urban sheet of a single, planet wide
city. The sun was just rising over the curve of the planet, spraying the
surface with a sheen of silvery chrome.
“Admiral, coming into geosynchronous orbit in ten
minutes, sir,” one of the officers behind him announced.
Karath glanced
over his shoulder and nodded. Behind him, in the Operations Pit of the bridge,
his officers sat in acceleration couches behind control cradles, monitoring the
systems of the Leviathan. Darkness reigned on the dimly lit bridge of the Sith
flagship. Karath reckoned it was appropriate. Light did not belong here. It
died here. He had seen it die. And beyond the constant thrum of the massive
vessel’s engines rumbling up through the deck plates, silence embraced the
darkness.
“Mr. Yand, do be so kind as to inform General Onna of our
orbital status. Spin up launch bays seven, eight and nine. Tell Commander Lain
that I want Viper Squadron flying escort for the troop carriers.”
“Yes Admiral.”
“How long before the rest of the fleet is in position?”
“E.T.A. on the Cestus and the Gladius, thirty-five
minutes standard, Admiral.”
Karath nodded and turned. He was prepared to give another
order, but all of his muscles froze solid. The temperature dropped sharply as
the main doors hissed open. Karath’s spine stiffened reflexively, and despite
the cold he felt, he began to sweat.
Darth Malak, Lord of the Sith entered the bridge in a
storm of cold and quiet fury. He stalked inward with silent, prowling steps, a
massive predator stepping into the shadowed chamber. Malak had once been a
Jedi, he had once been a hero. Now, he was a figure of primal power, and of
mystery. Even his cruel face was hidden behind a respiratory mask that hissed
with each word he spat forth; that turned his voice into a winter gale.
Karath had once fought in Malak’s forces, when the Jedi
and his former master, Revan, had led the fight against the Mandalorian threat
five years ago. Malak and Revan had saved the galaxy, even as the rest of the
Jedi Order stood by, secure in their own moral high ground. But afterwards,
when victory had been theirs, Malak and Revan had disappeared beyond the Outer
Rim. No one alive knew what they found out there, but when they returned, they
were…changed.
Saul Karath could not understand the change; he did not
even try. But he had his own changes to confront. Maybe once he had dreamed of
being a hero. Of saving lives. He didn’t know when that dream had died. But
such things were no longer important to him.
It was important only that he follow Malak’s order
without pause. Without fail.
Darth Malak strode in a swirl of crimson to take Karath’s
customary place at the head of the bridge. There, he folded his arms across his
broad chest and glared down at the planet. Karath stood off to the side,
waiting patiently as Malak’s rasping breaths counted the moments.
“Yesss,” Malak hissed. “I feel you…You were unwise to
leave your place of safety. Most unwise…Admiral Karath…I believe we will bypass
diplomatic relations with the Tarisian government. I want troops landed at
strategic points within the city center. All traffic up the gravity well will
be restricted.”
“My Lord…”
Malak whirled on Karath and paralyzed him with his pale
blue eyes. Karath fell silent and felt his bones turn to liquid beneath the
pressure of those cruel eyes. “Admiral, you will mobilize Colonel Nassat’s
Razor Ops teams. I want them searching for her.”
Karath’s eyes flicked back and forth, and his mouth
forgot how to work momentarily. “Yes, my--”
“Admiral,” Malak cut in, “it is imperative that we
discover the reason these Republic scum have come to this insipid backwater.
The Jedi Council would not risk Bastila frivolously.”
“My Lord…? I’m afraid I don’t--”
“Don’t understand, Admiral? Understanding is not
required. Compliance is.”
“I…of course, Lord Malak. I obey. I believe the planetary
officials will be most helpful in our…endeavors…”
Malak again turned those frozen eyes upon Karath. Karath
took the hint and nodded curtly. “I…I will see to it, My Lord.”
Lal awoke to a Wookie roaring in her face. This early,
she had no idea what the giant fur-ball was saying. His words were just a long,
annoying chain of growls, barks and snarls. Her eyes snapped open, and she
simply grunted.
“Caffa.”
The Wookie leaned over her with his fetid breath, whuffing
experimentally at her.
“Caffa now!!” she cried, swatting defensively at him. He
cried out in alarm and then began cursing and waving his long arms above his
head. He fired an insult or two at her and headed out to get her precious caffa
from the shop down the way.
“Bloody hell!” she gasped, frowning at the linger of his
breath. Lal ran her hand through her wild forest of black hair and forced
herself to sit through an act of sheer will. She utterly hated having a Wookie
tied to her through a lifedebt. Lal couldn’t get rid of him. It was like having
a giant furry organ suddenly sprout from her back. She could remember a time in
her life when nobody yelled at her to get up…in any bloody language.
Lal stood and staggered over to the window. For half a
moment, she expected to see the sun blazing through, but of course, there was
no sun. Beyond her window, there yawned only the bottomless darkness of the
Tertiary Sink. The Sink was one of twenty gigantic heat sinks studding the face
of the city-world, allowing the tremendous heat generated by massive machinery
to bleed out into the upper atmosphere. Five times a day, each Sink dumped its
heat sequentially. It made the air blister and churn like water, spilling
sticky, wet heat into her apartment. She hated it. But she gained some sort of
solace by gazing out into the spinning dark depths. All that open space calmed
her nerves for some reason. It emptied her out.
Sighing, she pushed away from the window and headed for
her fresher. There, she stripped out of the underwear and tee shirt she wore to
bed and turned on the sonic shower. She climbed inside the cramped shower,
which gave her space enough only to stand. Under the pulse of the sonic stream,
the night’s sweat and dirt misted off her skin and disintegrated. Waves of
sound marched soothingly over her body, numbing her mind, loosening clenched
muscles.
It took only fifteen seconds for the shower to completely
scrub her clean, but, as usual, she stood under the pulses for nearly fifteen
minutes. When she finally stepped out, she felt utterly refreshed. She brushed
her teeth over the sink, gazing at her face in the mirror. There, she caught
traces, sometimes of a face that was not always her own. The hair, so long and
free, seemed as if it should be—or rather, had once been—shorter. Her skin,
darker. Like someone else’s skin.
She turned away from the mirror. If she stared too long,
it would become a projector screen, playing her nightmares before her eyes. And
she didn’t want to see the Man again. He was always in her dreams somewhere,
speaking to her, taunting her. Whispering with no mouth. Never with a mouth.
A cold fist clutched at her heart then, and she gasped in
shock. The Man with no mouth had been there, in her dream again. She got a
sudden image of him in her clouded memory. Laughing as the stars bled. Laughing
as planets burned and screamed. Lal cried out and squeezed her eyes shut
tightly. She pressed her hands against the sides of her head and stumbled back
into her bedroom.
She blundered into her bed and fell across it face first.
There, she curled into a naked ball, moaning softly to herself. “Leave leave
leave leaveleaveleaveleaveleaveleaveleaveLEAVE!!”
“But I only just got here”, a gravel-filled voice
whispered.
Lal tried to reach for her blaster beneath her pillow,
but the remembered dream left her wallowing in a thick, viscous sea of
disorientation. In a murky haze, she saw a towering figure looming above her.
In his armor, he was composed of battered blue and silver, stained with
blotches of old blood.
She got a finger or two on the handle of her blaster, but
he stepped forward and calmly yanked the weapon from her grasp. Casually, he
tossed it on the floor. She licked her lips and rolled over onto her back. Her
hair fell across her face, and she wondered if this could get any worse.
It could.
“I wish I had a vid so I could take a holo of this lovely
moment, Sideen.” She recognized the voice. Wonderful. He removed his helmet, to
reveal his short, bristled white hair and his furrowed, hairless eyebrows. A
smirk curled his lips; the closest he ever came to a smile. He took a few more
moments to stare at her body before he tossed a blanket over her.
“What are you doing here, Ordo?” she muttered through
clenched teeth, clutching the blanket to her.
His pale eyes lingered on her as she covered herself, and
then he purposely turned his back to her. She fished for some clothes, and
found a rubbery halter that squeaked and snapped as she stretched it over her.
She yanked on a pair of clean underwear and then threw the blanket angrily from
her.
“Answer my question,” she told him, glancing for her
blaster. But he had consciously maneuvered himself between her and the weapon.
She was left utterly at his mercy, and he allowed the fact to sink in to her
brain that he intended her no harm. That brought heat to her cheeks. He could
have killed her at his leisure if he wished.
“Does it need to be said that I wish you no injury? Or
have I made my point, Sideen?”
“Oh…do be silent!” she hissed, stepping hastily into a
bright pink skirt. She wondered briefly where in the hell had she ever bought
anything that was bright or pink, but didn’t dwell long on it.
He was enjoying her distress, of course. But he didn’t
know that she kept her second blaster close by. She reached into a nightstand
for something to tie her hair back and also came up with her second weapon. She
leveled it at his back, and calm rushed over her.
“Alright. You can turn around.”
He slowly turned, and arched a bare eyebrow at the sudden
appearance of the weapon.
“Resourceful,” he chuckled softly.
“I trust you enjoyed the peep show, Canderous? It’ll be
the last thing you’ll ever see.”
“No need for that. I’m here to talk business.”
Drat! She raged
inside her mind. Lal plopped down on the bed and crossed her legs. “Alright.
You have fifteen seconds before I start shooting important things off of you.”
He smiled that non-smile of his and nodded. “It’s time
for a change. I know what you’re up to, and I want in.”
She had to remind herself of all the things she actually was up to…“You’re going to have to be a bit more specific,
Canderous.”
He chuckled. “Six months ago, you began contacting
pilots. Mainly eager bush leaguers and down-and-outers. A few desperate scum
here and there. Five months ago, you traveled with Davik to Tatooine during
negotiations with the Hutts. There, you began setting up your own network of
contacts. Three months ago, you began setting up runs. You may now rest assured
that I have fairly complete knowledge of your extracurricular activities,
Sideen.”
“Mmm. Hold on a sec.” She rose, keeping her gun trained
on his face. She reached behind her nightstand to pluck a tiny palm-sized
device from the back of it. She held it at chest level and activated it. It
hummed softly as she glanced at the tiny display. It ran through its scan and
the display screen told her there were no active or passive transmissions in
her vicinity. She did another scan, and came up with another negative result.
He wasn’t recording her, he wasn’t transmitting audio elsewhere. And he wasn’t
running any sort of countermeasures to hide any transmissions.
But still, there was no reason to trust him.
“Canderous, I don’t know how you got past the security at
the front door. But you’re obviously thinking that you can touch me at any
moment you choose. You see me helpless and…mmm…naked on my bed, utterly
incapable of defending myself or even reacting to you, right? And you’re
thinking suddenly, Lal is sloppy. Lal is touchable.”
“Admittedly, I had considered some random touching, yes.
But decided it wouldn’t be entirely prudent.”
“Shut up. That was a rhetorical question.”
“Of course.”
She sighed and went on. “Be advised, Canderous, catching
me at a bad moment is not something you will be able to rely upon a second
time.”
“Heh.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, and felt warmth on her
cheeks once more. She should have killed him; she really should have. But she
had no idea how much he knew. Or what he really intended to do with his
knowledge. Damn it, but she had thought she had covered herself better than
this. If Davik found out, her life wouldn’t be worth a single credit.
She could deny it, but if her scan had missed any bugs,
that would be just as bad as an admission of guilt. And killing him would also
be an admission of guilt. Damned clumsy of her.
And where was the Carpet! He should have been back by
now! Unless he was filling his bottomless gut! Lousy Wookie! Unless…maybe
Canderous had killed him…The man feared nothing, and he had hunted just about
everything that had lived and breathed in the galaxy…
“Did you hurt Zaalbar, Canderous?” she asked in a quiet,
tiny voice.
“Not permanently. It’s difficult determining a proper
tranquilizer dosage for a creature of such prodigious size and endurance
without killing. But I have had some experience with downing Wookies. Of
course, you realize I had no choice. Your Wookie would have been unlikely to
listen before he started ripping my arms and legs off.”
“He’s not my Wookie.”
“Whatever. But I refrained from killing him. Satisfied?”
Damn it, but Canderous was good. The best. Better than
she could ever be. She hated Mandalorians. Especially the smart ones. “Alright,
Canderous. What do you want?”
“I told you it was time for a change. I meant it.”
“A change? What the bloody hell are you talking about?”
He sighed in dismay. “Neither of us is this dense,
Sideen. I will be blunt, since that will help allay your obvious suspicions. I
am a Mandalorian Hunter. I have been trained since birth to kill sentients. As
a youth, questing for honor, I mastered orbital assaults with basilisk assault
droids. I have led my Clan in battles worthy of song and of infamy. I have
killed women and children, and I have danced on the entrails of my enemies.
Today, I hunt down debtors. I torture men who are not my enemies. I…collect
monthly dues and break the limbs of those who cannot pay. Do you see my
problem, Lal Sideen?”
“Umm…you used to be a bloodthirsty maniac, and now…it
just doesn’t float your speeder anymore? Midlife crisis, I’m guessing?”
He snarled and lifted his fist sharply. “No! For others,
killing is its own end. For the Sons of Mandalore, it was a means to an end. A noble one. Our enemies were worthy of
killing. So were their sons and daughters and wives. There was…glory…even in
the killing of a woman who cursed your bloodline and promised her sons would
gain vengeance on you and yours.”
“Canderous…you are not exactly winning me to your cause…”
“There is no glory in what I now do!” He roared. “Davik
is…Davik is simple-minded scum. His goals are likewise simpleminded. He is
nothing more than a brute. A barbarian. He grows fat on the monies of the
innocent. I can no longer abide being his man. Once…once I thought I had no choice.
After the Clans were scattered, I…well. Suffice to say, I was disillusioned.
Bitter.
“But I have watched you, Sideen. I have seen Davik use
you. I have seen how he has tried to break and crush your heart with the sins
he imposes on you. It is akin to caging a grand predator. Better to simply kill
you than do what he has done.”
“Canderous…”
“Let me finish, woman!” he snapped. “You see…when the
Clans were still strong, there were women like you…what I mean to say is…Er…you
are a woman worthy of…well…”
“Canderous. Please tell me you did not break into my
apartment to ask me out on a bloody date…”
“The Sons of Mandalore do not…date!
Ahem. I…what I’m trying to say, woman, is that it is clear to me, that despite
Davik’s grasp on your soul, you are attempting to carve for yourself an empire.
Davik, fool scum that he is, is content to be an errand boy. A cog in a greater
machine. You would throw down that machine and raise your own in its place. And
while…I would find it…agreeable to
make sons with you…it is my wish to join you. And seek a greater glory.”
“I see. You do say the sweetest things, Canderous. But
you’re still a lunatic. Ostensibly, though, even if I was trying
to set up my own operation, I’d have to kill you. I couldn’t trust you.”
“You cannot afford to kill me, Sideen. Aside from my
obvious value to you, there’s no way you could be certain what I have or have
not told Davik of your efforts to build your operation. You could ignore logic
and kill me anyway, but that would be a death sentence any way you look at it.
Or you could simply choose to accept my offer of fealty.”
Davik would be rather upset if she simply killed one of
his most valuable assets. He showed no mercy to lackeys who killed his other
lackeys. It was bad for business…unless he ordered it, of course. “Canderous,
if I killed you now, I could easily say you snuck into my apartment while I
slept simply to have your way with me. It would be justification enough.
Especially since you have already snuck into my apartment.”
He shook his head and smiled grimly. “Davik would know
better. You see, Lal Sideen, there is something you do not know. I am here at
Davik’s own command. Davik intends to see you dead.”
“You…Davik…me…? But…what did I…” she fell silent. She
knew it was true. She had felt it last night when he was speaking to her. She
knew her value to him was coming to an end. Davik probably knew nothing of her
schemes, but that also probably didn’t matter. She was getting too good. Too
strong. He’d be a fool not to have noticed the threat she now posed to his
power.
But still, after all she’d done for him…
“If he had put a contract on me,” she began dubiously,
“I’d know about it…”
Canderous snarled in disgust at Davik. “The man is lazy
and foolish. He will wait until you have solved this Sith problem for him.
Undoubtedly, you will be able to seduce some influential Sith diplomat or
general. You are not only highly desirable, but extremely competent. He knows
that it would only be a matter of time before you used your cunning to turn a
Sith to your cause. In this, a woman will always have more power than even a
powerful man with money. Simple idiot biology ensures this.”
She worked his words out in her mind during a stretch of
ticking silence. Her eyes flicked up to meet his. “He wants you to do it, I
take it?”
He shrugged and smiled coldly. “Fool that he is, Davik is
still wise enough to respect my talent. But I am not fool enough to think he
respects me that much. Lal Sideen, when Davik orders
your death, many will hunt you. Not just a single man. There are those who
already seek to begin the hunt. Last night, I believe, was no random attack.”
“Those bloody Vulkars!”
“Quite. But they were merely tools. Calo Nord made some
use of the fact that the Vulkars already would like to kill you. Or worse.”
Lal cursed silently. “Lovely. That’s just brilliant. All
I was doing was enforcing Davik’s wishes, too. He hates those twits. Tell me
Canderous, did Davik know about last night’s ambush?”
“I do not believe so. Calo became…impatient. His
ambitions will be his downfall.”
“And Davik still needs me to get a Sith in his pocket.”
“There is that. I wonder, Sideen…will you still perform
this task for Davik? Knowing what you do?”
“That’s a silly question, Canderous. We both know that I
have no choice. Even less choice now.”
He shrugged. “It would be beneficial to gain an ally
among the Sith, of course.”
“Of course. Except I don’t think it’s possible. The Sith
are…insane.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “They are mad dogs. But not so insane
as you might think. Even a madman can still feel desire. And no one alive is
more desirable than you, I think.”
“Oh, I bet you say that to all the homicidal girls.”
“No, Lal Sideen. I do not. I believe you are unique. An
unparalleled gem burning brightest of all. But don’t let it go to your head.”
“Fine. Get out. I’ll be in touch.”
He nodded and turned to go. But as he turned, he walked
right into a wall of fur. Zaalbar roared in fury and swatted Canderous to the
floor like a toy. The huge Wookie took a thundering step forward and bared his
bright fangs. Canderous wiped the blood on his lip with the back of his wrist
and scrambled backwards before the Wookie’s rage.
“Damn it, Sideen, call him off!”
Lal waited for a moment, thinking Canderous the unmatched
murderer deserved a bit of comeuppance. But she could tell by his expression
that Zaalbar was in a killing mood. She rushed in front of Zaalbar, to hold him
at bay. The Wookie halted instantly, unwilling to place her in the path of his
anger, but he still snarled and seethed down at Canderous.
“It’s okay Zaalbar. He didn’t hurt me. Leave him be.”
Zaalbar roared over her shoulder and trembled on the
verge of a frenzy. A naughty idea crossed her mind, then. Lal closed her eyes
and painted fear onto her face. She turned to Canderous as he lay frozen on the
floor.
“Canderous…! I don’t know if I can stop him! He wants
your blood!”
“Damned Wookie! What should I do?”
Lal giggled inwardly at Canderous’s distress, but she
still pretended desperation. “He wants you…”
“What…?”
“He wants you to…”
“What? What does he want?”
Lal relaxed and smiled wickedly down at Canderous. “He
just wants you to say you’re sorry for shooting him. That was naughty.”
Zaalbar and Canderous both glanced at her incredulously.
“Sideen, I am a Mandalorian! I never apologize!”
Zaalbar thundered wildly at him, and Canderous turned
stark white.
“I’m sorry for shooting you. It was naughty.”
Zaalbar snarled once more at Canderous and then gave a curt
nod. Lal patted the Wookie’s chest. Canderous started breathing again and
slowly picked himself up. Warily, he edged past Zaalbar and Lal, both of whom
stared at him. Zaalbar snapped at him to get him moving faster. Canderous
nearly leaped out of his armor, but hustled towards the front door. Lal
followed him and ushered him out.
She sighed and returned to Zaalbar, who was still
seething in the bedroom. Silly Carpet. She laid a hand on his chest and gazed
up into his eyes.
He avoided her gaze and turned away in his own Wookie
version of shame. He barked out a string of self-recriminations and balled his
massive fists in anger at himself.
“Canderous is good, Zaalbar,” she soothed. “Better than
you. Better than me.”
Zaalbar countered with his own warbling argument. Lal
sighed and nodded.
“Of course. But you were…you were still there for me. We
all have moments of weakness. No exceptions, there. I had another dream…”
Zaalbar turned, his brow furrowed in concern. “No,” she
replied in response to his worried growl, “I don’t want to talk about
it…but…er…thanks for um…for asking.”
Zaalbar stiffened in surprise, expecting another Carpet
remark. But Lal merely sighed and sat down on her bed. “Alright. Now get out.
I’m going to change. Where the hell did I buy this bloody outfit anyway…?”
*
Carth warily nursed a drink as he sat at the bar. Pungent
Ollik smoke formed a ceiling above his head and Hootari music pulsed just above
the rumble of mingled voices. Carth was more than a little bit on edge, even
though he tried his best to seem casual. He’d just spent an entire day evading
Sith patrols in the UpCity, mainly by hiding in plain sight. Damn but the Sith
moved fast. The UpCity streets were filled with Sith troopers, and they had
already commandeered a customs facility at the spacedocks to use as a makeshift
base of operations. Word had it that they were sending patrols down into the
Undercity, and they were putting checkpoints in place at every access point
between UpCity and LowCity.
Fighter patrols roamed the skies, and there was a rumor
that an orbital blockade was keeping anyone from leaving or arriving. Even if
Carth could find Bastila, he reckoned getting off-world would be beyond their
combined abilities.
And his only ally was a gangster. She was beautiful, of
course. Maybe even more so than Bastila Shan herself. But beneath that beauty,
there prowled a savage and cold monster. Every time he found himself swimming
in her dark eyes, he forced himself to remember that she was a killer and a criminal.
He couldn’t trust her farther than he could throw her. But damn, he needed her
help.
Lal Sideen was certainly tapped into the heart of the
city. Her name was on the lips of every back alley dealer and black marketer
he’d run across. She was Davik Kang’s number two. Believed to have participated
in a number of murders that would never see the light of a court. If only she
wasn’t such a ruthless cutthroat…But still…there was something about her.
Something he couldn’t quite grasp. Something haunting.
Those almost black eyes of hers, they slashed right through him. In her
presence, he had felt like she was dissecting him, opening him up to shine a
light on all his secrets. Or maybe it was just that she had a great set of
legs…That dress she had been wearing…well, not so much wearing as sort
of…drifting in and out of at certain moments. She had a distracting…paralyzing
effect…
So distracting that he almost didn’t notice the
half-naked twi’lek girl swishing clumsily up to him. Carth arched a dubious eyebrow
as she smiled brightly and leaned against the bar beside him. The netting she
wore clung to every azure curve, but managed to expose more of her flesh than
it bothered to cover. Her proprietary tattoos were clearly visibly, ringing her
thighs and arms, dancing across her brow. The girl glanced over at him and
licked her lips.
“Buy me a drink?” she asked.
“Sure you’re old enough, honey?”
Her mouth dropped wide open indignantly. “Why you--”
Carth held up his hand to cut her off. “Listen kiddo, whatever
you’re going for, you’re not pulling it off, okay? What are you? Twelve?
Thirteen?”
She gasped dramatically and balled up her tiny fist
beneath his face. “Nah, you listen, granddad, I’m old enough to get the job done, you hear me? I
been in this business longer than you…longer than…well, a long
time, okay? So you just keep your smart remarks to yourself, and buy me a
flippin’ drink!”
Carth had damn well had enough. “Whatever you’re selling,
I’m not interested. Don’t take it personal, I just prefer being hit on by
adults--”
“She said you were kinda slow,” the twi’lek sighed.
“Listen, Lal sent me to collect you. But she didn’t want it to be all obvious,
laser mouth! So pretend like we’re negotiating on a price and let’s go.”
“Lal sent you, huh? She must be paranoid as hell.” Carth
took her arm and rose. He tossed down a few creds to cover his bar tab.
“Alright honey, I’m hooked. Let’s uh…let’s party. Or…whatever.”
“Great, big daddy!” she cried, kissing him on the cheek.
Carth groaned inwardly.
“Listen kid, you got a name?”
“
“What the hell are you talking about? I wouldn’t touch
that woman if I was in a level-6 exposure suit! She’s crazy. Hold on a sec. How
do I know you’re not leading me into a trap?”
She sighed elaborately and rolled her blue eyes. “I’m
not. Trust me. Besides, it ain’t like you got a whole lotta choice, is it?”
“Alright, alright. You got me there, k—er…Mission. At
least tell me where we’re going.”
“Do you know your way around?”
“I…well…no…”
“Then just shut up and pretend like you’re not my dad or
something, huh?”
Carth glared at her and struggled not to throttle her
little neck. “Okay. It’s your show. But if this smells wrong to me…”
She nodded. “Yeah, yeah. I got it. I’m all scared. Maybe
you can spank me if I’m bad enough, huh?”
Carth cringed.
*
“Carth,” she smiled, nodding at him and
“Alright. Yeah, that’s just hilarious,” Carth growled.
“About as funny as pimping out a joygirl who’s just a Wookie’s hair shy of
being a kid!”
“Yeah, that shows what you know,”
“Well that works out fine because I’m not interested.
Kid.”
Lal decided to intervene. “Alright. Funny, funny. Now
it’s biz-time. Carth, I told you I would help you out, right? Well, I put out
some feelers, and learned that the Black Vulkars do indeed have your
girlfriend.”
“Right. Now, all I need is a way to sneak in and get her.
And she’s not my girlfriend.”
“Whatever. It’s not going to be quite as simple as all
that, I’m afraid. The Vulkars might be dolts, but they’re big on tech. That
means they’ve got the blackest security guarding their digs. And please don’t
give that line about having been in tighter scrapes. You’re likely to require
assistance that I cannot provide.”
Carth placed his fists on his hips and sighed in growing
frustration. “Alright. Fine. If you can’t help me, who do I need to talk to?”
“Well,” Lal began slowly, “there aren’t too many people
around who would willingly or openly cross the Black Vulkars…”
“The Beks would do it!”
“Shut up,
Carth threw his hands up in defeat. “This just gets
better and better…”
“Lesser of two evils in your case, Carth,” Lal told him.
“The Beks have a blood feud going with the Vulkars. Brejik, the leader of the
Vulkars has been trying to kill the Beks’ headman off and on for roughly three
years or so. I’m sure the Beks would be happy to be a thorn in Brejik’s side.
Don’t get me wrong; the Beks are scum, too. Just a slightly less scummier scum.
They’ll still kill you as soon as look at you. Especially you. But their
leader, Gadon Theck…he’s somewhat sweet on me. He’ll give you an audience if I
introduce you. It’s your show from there, flyboy.”
Carth groaned and massaged the bridge of his nose. Lal
walked up beside him and folded her arms over her breasts. “Listen, Carth,” she
said softly, “I’m guessing this lady is pretty special to you, hmm? You love
her or something along those lines? Well--”
“I don’t love her. I’m not in love with her. She’s a
fellow soldier. That’s all. I don’t leave people behind. I told you that.”
“Hmm. Carth, I don’t care about your fight. The struggle
of the Republic against the Sith. It’s not my concern. Neither of them ever did
a bloody thing for me or mine. But obviously, you care. And whatever mission
you’re on, I’m guessing it’s very important to your bosses that you succeed or
whatever. Risking the success of your mission for a single soldier is…well, it
doesn’t sound like smart tactics to me. And if she’s not special to you…”
Carth opened his mouth to reply, but then thought better
of it. He smiled slyly at her. “That’s very good. You almost suckered me. But I
told you I couldn’t talk about the mission. And even a pretty smile isn’t gonna
change that. Why do you care so much anyway? I mean, you’ve got your own
business, right? Like you said, you don’t care about the Republic. You don’t
care that the Sith are monsters. Why do you care what I choose to risk my life
for?”
“Well,” she smiled lushly, pressing her shoulder against
his, “you saved my life, right? That was very sweet of you. Maybe I just don’t
want to see you throw your life away stupidly. I mean, I honestly can’t help
you more than I already am…and I can’t stop you…but maybe…maybe survival is the
best option. I mean, you might be able to save this woman…but the odds are
against you. It’s more likely that you’ll get captured. And the Vulkars will
torture you until you spill your guts about everything you’ve ever known. Seems
like a waste. You’re strong and you’re obviously brave…confident…”
As Lal spoke, she turned into Carth, pressing herself
against his chest. Her lips hovered close to his chin, his mouth. She felt him
tense against her body, and she smiled.
“Mmm…you certainly make a lot of sense,” Carth admitted.
“But…have you ever heard the old Corellian saying? ‘Never tell me the odds’…”
“Carth…what are you in this fight for? Do you really love
the Republic so much? Is their distant struggle worth your life?”
He narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “If you gotta
ask that question, you’d never understand the answer.” With a sigh he gently
pushed her away from him, and then took a deep breath. “More’s the pity. So, is
this the part where you offer me a job? Working for you? Intimately? Let me
save you the trouble, okay? No.”
“I could use a man like you, Carth.”
“‘Use’ being the operative word.”
“Everybody uses everybody else. It’s the way of the
galaxy. Every relationship is built on it. Mutual and comparative value, Carth.
Anyone who tells you different is trying to sell you something broken.
Listen…you think I like the Sith? I don’t. But I’ve lived under the…dubious
benefit of the Republic, and this is the best life I’ve been able to find. Your
fight for freedom? For me…for
“Lal, that ‘live well’ bit is a nice touch. But even when
you live well…you still gotta be able to live with yourself.”
Lal chuckled softly and nodded. “There is that, yes.
Okay, Carth Onasi. I’ve made my pitch. I would say that I envy you your freedom
to hold such high ideals and morals, but I won’t insult a man who saved my
life.”
Lal smiled at him again and shook her head. She walked
over to mission and turned the twi’lek girl to face her squarely. “
“Cool. So long as I don’t have to go back to the
Daystar,”
“Don’t worry about that anymore. I need you to go to the
Bek base and tell Gadon I want to set up a meet.”
Carth snorted in disbelief. “You’re gonna send a kid like
her into the midst of a bunch of gangers?”
“
Carth and Zaalbar walked over to stand beside Lal and the
three of them watched as
“How long will we have to wait?” Carth asked.
“An hour maybe,” Lal replied. “Gadon always likes to chat
with me. But his…second-in-command is a real bitch. She hates me. If it were up
to her, I’d never get past their front door. Don’t worry, though. It’ll be
okay.”
*
“I thought you said everything would be okay,” Carth
growled softly into Lal’s ear as they stepped out of the rusted old turbolift.
“Oh…do be silent, Carth,” she snapped back. Behind her
Zaalbar released a long rumbling moan about the dangers of the Undercity.
They stepped out onto the broken, sweating pavement of
the Undercity, avoiding the cracked slabs of permacrete, the mountains of torn,
molten girders and moldering trash. It was a forest of great monolithic
pillars, stretching upwards and disappearing into the yawning blackness above.
These massive pillars were the very feet of the city above.
The floor of this urban forest was littered with
corrugated steel skeletons and rusted iron corpses; broken hulks of ancient
machinery long since forgotten and discarded; sheets of shattered plating;
crumpled shells and chasses. And among the forlorn metal works, there festered
rotting humps of refuse, puddles of muck so long decayed that they were little
more than a brown fetid sludge. Scattered here and there were slouching huts,
lit from within by tiny firelights. People wrapped in rags huddled within this
patchwork village, staring at Lal and the others with fearful, uncertain eyes.
In the darkness soaring above their heads, temperatures
warred over miles and miles of space, clashing in battles of hot and cold. From
the aftermath, a weather system formed, and gray murky clouds drifted lazily.
Occasionally, the clouds ruptured and thin sheets of anemic rain splattered
down on the floor of the Undercity. From this rain, life emerged; strange and
alien plants peeking through cracks in the pavement. Colonies of fungus,
growths of bulging, sickeningly fruiting mold, all manner of life spilled
upwards to choke the permacrete.
Again, Carth spoke up, his eyes searching around warily
at the people milling about. “This is looking pretty damned far from ‘okay.’”
“Well,” Lal sighed, feeling every bit the same
discontent, “this is just another window into the lives of those who benefit
beneath your Republic, Carth. I’m sure they’ll be grateful that you’re fighting
for their freedom.”
Carth glanced sharply at her. “That’s not fair. Taris did
this to these people. Not the Republic. And I might remind you that Taris isn’t
even a part of the Republic…”
Lal smiled bitterly. “You’re right, Carth. It’s not
fair.”
Carth frowned but fell silent. Zaalbar rumbled something
about having a bad feeling about this.
“
“What? I was just--”
“Looks like we’ve got company,” Carth cut in, pointing at
a cluster of people moving towards them.
“Relax,” Lal told him. “It’s Gadon.”
“Lal Sideen,” Gadon Theck smiled, lowering the hood of
the heavy brown robe he wore. Beside him, a twi’lek woman also lowered her
hood, revealing a scowl of disgust aimed at Lal. With a tiny gesture, she
opened her robe just enough for Lal to see the glint of a vibroblade sheathed
at her hip. With them were four others, each clad in similar robes, bulging
with hidden weapons.
“Hello, Gadon,” Lal smiled, letting him step forward to
take her in his arms. His gaze floated strangely just beyond her face, and as
he embraced her, he used his hands and fingers to feel the smooth planes of her
face.
“Lovely,” Gadon chuckled, kissing her. Lal had to stretch
on the tips of her toes to meet his kiss. As she did, he folded her into his
arms and leaned into her. She let him, relaxing against his lips like she had a
long time ago.
After they parted, Lal noticed Carth’s arched eyebrow.
Zaalbar released a tiny whuff of amusement. Lal licked her lips and tossed the
Wookie a glare. Carth leaned in close to Lal and whispered, “He’s blind?”
“I am indeed, friend,” Gadon said, easily detecting the
soft whisper. “Lost my sight in a...an occupational hazard.” He turned his
gleaming white eyes on Carth, and Lal saw the metallic pupils whir and
contract. “Oh, I can see. After a fashion. Cyber-eyes. But not like most folks
can see. Implants were faulty. Only work in infrared. When they work at all. I
still need my hands to truly…see.”
“Gadon,” the twi’lek woman sighed, “this is--”
“Relax, Zaerdra,” Gadon cut her off.
“Yeah, Zaerdra,” Lal added saucily. “Relax.”
Zaerdra’s green eyes narrowed dangerously, but she said
nothing more. Gadon did not miss her anger, but merely sighed. “So, Lal,” he
started, “what’s this about? A reunion for old times’ sake?”
“Mmm, maybe later, Gadon,” Lal smiled. “Surroundings
aren’t exactly to my tastes for a reunion.”
“What?” he chuckled. “No love for the Undercity? The
garden spot of Taris?” He fixed Carth with his blind gaze and went on. “This is
the legacy of progress, off-worlder. The core from which all that is sleek, all
that is new and shining must come. Like a rotting Shii-fruit. Never can tell
it’s spoiled until you take that first bite. The center cannot hold, and yet,
its decay permeates through the whole.”
Zaalbar released a groan. He hated sermons. Lal gave the
Wookie a nudge to quiet him.
“This is the home of the forgotten and the forlorn,”
Gadon went on, continuing to aim his words at Carth. “It might not be pretty,
but this is truly what Taris is. And, it’s the perfect place for a chat.”
Carth glanced around and shrugged. “I might have picked
somewhere a bit less ripe, but I hear you. I’ve seen places like this. Where--”
Gadon chuckled and turned away from Carth to face Lal.
“Tell me, Lal. What did you want to speak about?”
“Gadon, I need some help.”
“Help from the Beks,” Gadon smiled, drawing smirks from
his companions. “Sounds rich. Every time Lal comes calling, she needs help.
Only time she comes calling, as I recall. Well, then. Tell me what the most
resourceful woman on this planet could possibly need help with.”
“It’s for my friend,” Lal said, pointing to Carth. “The
Vulkars took a friend of his. Someone special to him. A woman.”
“A…woman,” Gadon mused. Beside him Zaerdra shook her
head. “A woman, you say? Well then. I reckon that would make your friend here
one of the Republic’s soldier boys, since the woman Brejik pulled out of that
escape pod was also Republic. Well. And that explains what the Sith are doing
here. Lal, are you getting soft? I would have expected you to have sold this friend to the Sith within minutes of their landing.”
Lal glanced at Carth and then stepped forward. “He saved
my life, Gadon. I owe him. Sort of.”
Gadon nodded. “Yeah, sure. I may have a set of after
market cyber-eyes, Lal, but I can see well enough. It’s more than just owing
anything to anybody. You owe lots of people.”
“Most of whom sprouted daggers in their backs,” Zaerdra
hissed.
Lal merely sighed and folded her arms over her breasts.
She fixed Zaerdra with a cool glare, and willed the woman to shut her mouth.
Zaerdra shrank bit just a bit beneath Lal’s gaze. It was enough. “Gadon…” Lal
began softly, lowering her eyes, “when have I ever treated you so badly as to
justify this? Maybe you’re forgetting who whispers what into Davik’s ear to make him forget that he wants your
blood spilled. Maybe, in focusing too much on the past, you forget exactly what
I do in the present so that you can remain unharmed.”
Gadon’s brown face flushed with shame from her words. He
nodded reluctantly. “Maybe…I do focus on the past a bit too much. Alright, Lal.
Point taken. So you wish to help a friend.” He glanced at Carth once more.
“Make sure you understand exactly how high an honor that is, off-worlder.” Back
to Lal again. “So this girl Brejik holds, this friend of yours is tight with
her. Fine. Exactly what is it you think I’ll be able to do?”
“I know it will be impossible to get to her physically,”
Lal said, “but if there’s anyone who knows how to put a crimp in Brejik’s
plans, it’s you, Gadon. I need some magic.”
“I might be able to work some magic, Lal. And where Brejik
is concerned, I might be willing. But it’s complicated.”
“Of course it’s complicated,” Carth said. “That doesn’t
matter to me.”
“Well, that’s good to hear, but I could hardly care what
does or does not matter to you, off-worlder. I have my own concerns. Namely, a
race.”
“A race?” Carth growled. “We’re talking about a woman’s
life here, and you’re concerned about some…some race?”
“Well,” Gadon went on, “It’s not just some race. This is important. Important to us. To our
business. See, every five years, the gangs of LowCity hold a competition. The
winner of this competition gets the right to distribute…ah…shall we
say…business opportunities among the gangs. It discourages constant and open
bloodshed.”
“I don’t believe this,” Carth hissed in disgust.
“A swoop race,” Gadon went on without missing a beat.
“Every gang that wants a piece of the action for the next five years must race.
And every gang that wants to race must ante up.”
“Ante up?” Carth scowled. “What are you talking about?”
Lal spoke up and explained. “They have to post an
entrance fee. Something expensive. Gadon, I’m not liking the sound of this.”
Gadon shrugged. “What you like and dislike has no bearing
on the way things are done, Lal. You know that better than any of us. Don’t
you?”
“Let me guess,” Carth said, “these Vulkars as using
Bastila as their fee. Great.”
“So, the beauty’s name is Bastila,” Gadon murmured. “I
should warn you, Lal; this girl is almost as lovely as you are. Or so I’ve been
told.”
“What kind of a planet is this?” Carth snarled. “Is
everybody here insane? You people don’t even bat an eye about a woman being
used as a...a…as some kind of object?”
A cold silence fell over the group and everyone turned a
glare of disgust on Carth. Lal shook her head and stepped in close to Carth. He
was glaring back at the others in righteous fury. Of course he was. His
sensibilities were utterly alien to Taris. The nobility, the morality; the right and wrong to which he was accustomed…it didn’t grow on
Taris. Nothing did.
“Carth,” Lal hissed tightly, pressing a hand into his
chest, “shut your mouth right now.”
“Don’t take it personal, Mr. Carth,” Gadon told him.
“While running your mouth on a subject about which you know nothing, you’ve
managed to hit a sore spot. Unless you’re born to privilege on Taris…and if
you’re a woman…you’re born to property. You think little
“I…” Carth glanced at Lal and
“Don’t worry about it,” Lal told him through gritted
teeth. It wasn’t really his fault that he didn’t know. That he couldn’t
understand. She rolled her eyes and turned back to Gadon. “So Brejik’s posting
this girl for his fee. What can we do about it?”
“Well…as I said…it’s complicated,” Gadon said. “See,
Brejik, being the unwashed son of a tube grub that he is, he’s trying to edge
the Beks out of the competition. He knows we’ve got the best swoop on the
blocks. And the best team. He is, in fact, so afraid that he’s gone so far as
to kidnap our rider, Selli.”
“Selli?”
“No arguments, Mission,” Gadon nodded.
“That bastard kidnapped my little sister right out of our
apartment,” Zaerdra growled, a tear welling at the corner of her eye. “He’s
threatened to cut her up if we don’t throw the race!”
Gadon laid a hand on Zaerdra’s shoulder and hugged her
tight to him. The angry twi’lek sucked back her tears and began cursing in her
own language.
Lal turned to explain to Carth. “Selli used to belong to
Davik. She’s only a little older than
Zaalbar reminded her of her own part in that bad business
a year ago with a quick grunt. Lal's cheeks turned red and she glared back at
the Wookie. “Shut up, Carpet,” Lal told him.
“Zaalbar’s right, Lal,” Gadon smiled kindly, stroking
Zaerdra’s smooth skull. “Davik would have never accepted our payment if you
hadn’t--”
“Oh please, Gadon!” Zaerdra cried out, tearing free from
him. “This pleek’ta whore made sure that Davik crushed every bit of innocence
my sister had! Don’t you dare show her any sort of gratitude for doing what she
should have done years ago! And she’s still whoring girls out! Look at
Lal simply glanced away. Zaalbar roared furiously at
Zaerdra, even though everyone there knew Zaerdra’s rage was justified. Lal most
of all. Lal occasionally sought redemption for the things she had done. Not
often, but occasionally. It wasn’t enough; she couldn’t do enough. And the
little she had done, however reluctantly or at her own risk, was ultimately
futile on a world like Taris. It was easier not to wash the
blood from her hands; easier when she had already bathed in it.
Still, she would never have let Zaerdra walk out of there
alive. Her words demanded a swift blade across her jugular. Zaerdra should damn
well have known better, no matter her feelings: one did not speak ill of Davik
or his people. It was a quick way to get dead. Usually. But since Lal had
learned Davik planned to kill her, the old furies no longer caught her up.
No…that wasn’t true. She’d been acting like this before then. Slipping up;
getting misty-eyed and…sentimental. The dreams she’d been having were taking a
toll on her. She was getting old and tired. And the plans she had built; the
dream of freedom…that was equally futile. Freedom was an illusion, a waste of
imagination.
But how she longed for the illusion; yearned to make it
real.
She glanced at Carth, with his clear eyes and strong
shoulders. His bright ideologies. It was a waste…wasn’t it? She realized he was
watching her, too. Watching her with eyes that strove to unravel her. To
understand what she was. Good luck, she
told him silently.
She turned to look at
Any twi’lek slavegirl was valuable.
Lal had intervened before
She’d slacked up on
For some reason, Lal found herself hugging
Everyone except Zaerdra. “Oh, are you gonna cry now?
Because you know I’m right? It’s too late for you to grow a conscience, witch!”
“You don’t know!”
“
“Enough, Zaerdra. That’s enough.”
“Gadon,” Zaerdra cried, struggling against his grasp.
“You let me go! Nobody talks about me like that! Nobody!”
“Yeah, let her go, Gadon!”
“
The fight drained away beneath the placid cool of Lal’s
voice. Zaerdra suddenly lost every ounce of her fury, as did Mission. Lal
stepped up to Zaerdra and placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder. Zaerdra was
shocked into paralysis. She simply stared open mouthed at Lal.
“I’m sorry, Zaerdra. Sorry about your sister. I’m going
to get her back from Brejik for you. But know this, Zaerdra. If you ever raise
a fist to
“I…” Zaerdra stammered, her eyes flickering nervously at
the touch of Lal’s soft voice. “Yes.”
“Good,” Lal nodded, gently patting Zaerdra’s shoulder.
“Now…that’s…different…” Gadon muttered. “You wanna…help?”
Lal looked at Carth, who was just as surprised. She
nodded.
“If you get Selli back to us,” Gadon said, “I’ll go to
bat for you with this Bastila girl.”
“Go to bat?” Carth frowned. “Exactly what is that
supposed to mean? Let me get this straight: you want me…us…to rescue this rider
of yours, and then you’ll go to bat to
get Bastila back? Is that about right?”
“My hands are tied, I’m afraid,” Gadon said. “If we take
her before the race, we could get disqualified. And even if we did, we don’t
know where she’s being held. We have no choice but to wait until after the
race. And even then, we have to win. We’ll have enough cred to have the right
to claim her.”
“Gadon,” Lal started, “I’m taking a risk. I’m…I’m
stepping up. You need to step up too.”
“Lal, I…”
“Gadon!” Lal snapped, “we’ll get Zaerdra’s sister! But
there will be absolutely no doubt, no confusion over the fact that you will get Bastila, no matter if you win or lose.”
“I…I…alright, Lal. Win or lose…we will get Bastila,” he
repeated softly, in a distant, tiny voice. “I reckon I owe you that much.”
Lal nodded and reached out to squeeze his shoulder. “Do
you know where Selli’s being held?”
“That’s not the problem, actually,” Gadon sighed, rubbing
a hand across his shaven skull. “We know exactly where she is. They’ve got a
safehouse down here, over in Subsector-12; outlands territory. What the actual
problem, however…well…it’s rather a big problem. The reason I told
“Are you gonna tell us what the ‘big problem’ is?” Carth
asked, “Or are you gonna keep us in suspense?”
“Rancor,” Gadon growled at him. “Biggest I’ve ever seen.”
“A rancor?”
Lal groaned and shook her head. “
“No, it’s for real!”
Carth scowled at Lal and
“Local thing,” Lal tried to explain, glancing doubtfully
at
“Yeah!”
“I don’t know about a commode,” Gadon interjected, “but
this Hutt really did lose a Rancor in the Undercity. I’ve seen the damned
thing. It’s been getting huge eating Gammoreans and…other things…”
“How do we get around a rancor?” Carth asked no one in
particular.
“We were looking for another way in,” Gadon told him.
“Maybe through the sewers or something. But the Vulkar security is tight. And
then, there’s the Rakghouls wandering about…”
“Rakghouls?” Carth gasped. “What the hell is a Rakghoul?”
Zaalbar moaned nervously.
Lal groaned softly and looked up at Carth. “Just another
bloody obstacle. Do you want to get this woman or not?”
“Well,” Carth began, “we don’t have a ch--”
As he spoke, the turbolift behind them grated open and
spilled forth a cluster of soldier clad in gleaming black armor. Each clutched
a blaster rifle to their chests, and their faces were hidden behind full
helmets fixed with mirrored visors. They filled out with cold military
precision, moving like a single machine. Behind them, a tall woman in a crisp
gray uniform marched forth, barking orders. She scanned the area with icy blue
eyes and began directing her men.
At her command, the troops began snatching up the
Undercity villagers, yanking them from their huts and shoving them into lines
against the walls.
“What in the hell?” Gadon hissed.
“Sith,” Carth growled, his hand straying towards his
weapon belt. Lal drifted close and squeezed his arm to keep him from doing
anything foolish. He glanced at her and nodded. “Black Razors. Elite unit. This
isn’t gonna be pretty.”
“Damn,” Gadon gasped as one of the soldiers slammed a
starving woman to the ground because she was moving too slowly.
“Ever known the Republic to beat someone for moving too
slow?” Carth asked him. Gadon could only shake his head.
And then, the officer noticed them.
“Adjutant!” the woman cried. One of the armored soldiers
blazed a path towards her and snapped to attention.
“Yes, lieutenant!”
“Disarm those individuals and line them up with the
others for questioning.”
“Lieutenant! Aye!” the soldier whirled and fired off
orders to several of his men. “Mulla! Kerek! Samna! Secure these indigs!”
“Whoa, whoa!” Carth hissed as Sith troopers surrounded
their group, shoving blaster rifles into their faces.
“Give up the blasters!” one of them yelled.
“There’s no need for all of that,” Lal said, holding her
hands up. One of them reached into her belt and yanked her blaster away.
Zaalbar roared as another snatched his bowcaster. Still another trooper drew
down on Carth. The female officer stalked sharply up to Carth and glared at
him. She studied his face for a long time.
“I’ll take those blasters,” she said.
Carth released a sour chuckle. “You’re gonna have to, honey.”
The officer’s eyes narrowed into frozen slits and she
unleashed her blaster. She aimed it at Carth’s face. “Would you like to try
again?” she asked. “Or perhaps not. Perhaps you’d prefer to assist me with
something? Seems I am in need of an example. An abject lesson so to speak. You’ll
do nicely. Or perhaps…” her aim drifted towards Lal. “perhaps your woman,
here?”
Lal groaned inwardly. Why couldn’t it have been
a man instead of a woman? Men were so much easier to manipulate…
“Or perhaps,” the officer smiled, turning the blaster on
“Alright!” Carth growled. “Take ‘em. Just don’t hurt
anyone, okay?”
“Wise,” the officer grinned harshly. “But I still need to
make an example--”
Blaster fire erupted on the far side of the village. The
officer’s eyes snapped in that direction as several of her troopers fired upon
a boy and a girl who were trying their damnedest to run to their mother. They
got about ten feet before they were cut down.
Lal acted without much in the way of thought. And at her
cue, so did Carth. She chopped the edge of her hand against the officer’s
throat, stunning the woman. Carth drew both blasters and whirled around,
opening up on the soldiers covering them. Zaalbar yanked his bowcaster back
with one hand and crushed the skull of the trooper holding it with his other
hand.
Lal spun around and grabbed another soldier’s rifle. She
yanked it up out of the way and jabbed the toe of her boot in the gap between
the Sith warrior’s helmet and chest plate. The man gurgled, clutching at his
crushed throat. As he fell back, Lal couched the rifle and opened up on the
others.
Zaerdra snatched a vibrosword from the trooper she’d
attacked. She plunged the buzzing weapon into his belly, slicing right through
his armor. She stood and tried to yank the blade free, but it stuck fast in the
dead man. As Zaerdra struggled and pulled on the vibrosword, the officer
recovered from Lal's blow. Coughing, the Sith officer lurched towards Zaerdra’s
back and shoved her blaster against the twi’lek woman’s skull.
Lal stroked the rifle’s trigger and stitched a line of
fire up the officer’s spine. The woman collapsed in a smoking heap.
“Take ‘em down!” Gadon cried wildly, tossing a pistol to
one of his men. Together, they opened fire on the unprepared Sith troopers. Lal
hit the ground, covering
At this point in time, several of the villagers turned
against the troops and fought tooth and nail. Within seconds, half the village
had joined them; the remaining troopers were literally torn to bits before it
was over.
And they all realized what they had done.
Lal rose slowly, lifting a whimpering
“Is the kid okay?” Carth asked, dashing to Lal’s side and
examining
“Fine,” Lal hissed, furious at the man for bringing his
war to Taris. “Gadon! How do we--”
“I’ll be in touch!” Gadon told her. “I’ve still got your
number! I’m going to move these people out of here to another subsector! If
they’re here when those Sith dogs return, they’ll slaughter first and ask
questions never!”
Lal nodded mechanically as Carth grabbed her and Mission
by their arms. Zaalbar howled out a warning as they approached the turbolift.
“He’s right!” Lal said, “the lift is probably
compromised!”
As she said that, the turbolift dinged, warning that the
car door was about to open. Carth snarled incoherently and reached in his
jacket. He came up with a plasma detonator, twisted the arming pin and dropped
it in front of the turboshaft doors. “Move!” he cried, pushing Lal and
The four of them ran hell for leather as the detonator
cracked open and released a storm of blue fire as hot as a sun. The ground
shook and hurled them from their feet.
“Come on!” Carth roared, yanking the women upright. “We
need to find another way up!”
Lal shook her head weakly. “I don’t…I don’t…”
“Come on!” Carth yelled once more.
“I don’t bloody-well know Undercity!” Lal yelled back at
him.
“I know a w-way,”
“
“C-c-cool…”
Bandon felt his lip curl back from his teeth as he
listened to the comm chatter issuing from the helmets of the Sith troopers
flanking him in the cold gloom of Taris’s Undercity. He could feel their
nervousness, their fear bleeding through the creases of their armor as the
darkness swirled before them. They were small beings, hiding inside their
armor, trembling at the thought of what lay in waiting for them in the
darkness.
Two days ago, a Black Razor Operations squad had been
lost down here. The only thing that had been found was the naked body of Lieutenant
Peer, chewed and gnawed to gristle and bone by…something. Bandon supposed the
rumors of the living dead prowling the shadows might have had some truth to
them. Ever since he had taken command of the Ops teams, he had heard nothing
but tales of the dead who ate men. The filthy and pathetic mewling locals were
filled with these tales, promising swift vengeance by the so-called Rakghouls
right before Bandon had ordered them set afire.
For two days, Bandon had killed and killed, tearing
through entire villages. For every Sith who had been killed in that squad, ten
Tarisian underscum would die. He had started by simply ordering them shot. But
it occurred to him that, while this certainly got the job done, it didn’t
exactly communicate the point. His men still continued to die; one or two at a
time, on patrols through the sweating gloom. He had ordered his soldiers to set
the villages afire, to burn the pathetic huts while the villagers were
themselves rounded up. And down to every man, woman and child, they were
impaled. Alive. It was an ancient Sith discipline that had survived the ages;
to impale a victim without killing. A strong man would take days to die. So, he
had taken to staking the villagers alive, and planting them upright amidst the
smoking ruins of their burned huts. Their agonized screams would be a warning
cry, that the Sith had come. And their bodies would be a message.
It was, of course, barbaric. Necessity often was. There
was an undeniable and practical logic in ruthlessness. But few rational men had
the belly for this sort of business. And Bandon was a rational man. It was the
way of the Sith to embrace passion and fury. But Bandon knew that fury made a
man’s mind weak. He had his passions, to be certain. However, since he was not
here to indulge those passions, Bandon let his intellect rule.
Still, his men kept dying. Every time a patrol went out
searching for the Jedi Bastila, it returned short a man or three, the survivors
cold with terror. The message still had not been received. He decided to drive
the point home by setting impaled villagers on fire. Necessity. Perhaps some
Sith would have reveled in the killing. Bandon did not. Could not. This was a
means to an end.
Pacification of an entire planet took something more than
force of arms; it took more even than the threat of death. It required terror.
Cold, unreasoning horror. Terror drained the fight from any rebel. Terror made
an intelligent man into a gibbering fool. Terror made strong men into mewling
babies. And he was certain there was enough steel in these Tarisian dogs to
resist his will, to keep killing his men. Before Bandon had started burning
villagers alive, he had not believed these tales of walking dead men. But as
the greasy smoke from a living pyre coursed over his face, he began to wonder.
These Tarisian wretches could not be so foolish as to keep murdering his
warriors from the shadows. It availed them only the deaths of their loved ones.
It had to be someone…something…else.
Bandon was not a man accustomed to the sensation of fear.
He was a Lord of the Sith, apprentice to Darth Malak. But these weak-kneed
soldiers were composed of lesser meat. They would buckle. Falter. Pride
whispered at his shoulder, urging him to abandon these dogs. But logic
countered with its own wise arguments. If there was something down here, better
to have these troops at his back. If only for the sake of a distraction.
He grew tired of the comm chatter. “Adjutant!” he
snarled.
“Sir!”
Bandon narrowed his pale gray eyes into snowy slits, and
slowly turned to face the senior non-comm. “Report.”
“We’ve been unable to re-establish contact with Alpha
Squad, my Lord. Their last transmission reported discovery of some wreckage
about two hundred meters west of checkpoint seven.”
“That will be the Republic pod,” Bandon hissed softly.
“Adjutant, gather your men. We will be tracing their route into the
wastelands.”
“I…yes, of course, my Lord Bandon.”
Twenty minutes later, Bandon prowled the darkness at the
head of the Sith squad, quietly slipping over piles of rusted metal and
stinking refuse. They had come to an obstacle in their path, some ancient
crashed vessel so long corroded that it seemed to grow right out of the ground.
Its sprawling carcass stretched for nearly a hundred feet before growing into a
wall that utterly cut them off from Alpha Squad’s trail. In the moist darkness,
they could not pick up the path Alpha Squad had used to get past the barrier.
And so, Bandon had peeled away from the rest of his team. He did not need light
as did the others. He allowed the Force to guide him, and it painted the dark clearly
in stark grays and whites. He reached out with his feelings, probing the
shattered and twisted landscape for ambush. Any living thing would seem to glow
to his eyes. Life created a blazing chain through the Force. All things were so
linked, even the most humble speck of dust. But life, which fueled the Force
with its passion and chaos, that shimmered brightest.
Bandon began to drift farther away from his squad of men.
They were intolerably loud, incapable of masking their noise as he was. He
should have had one of them walking the point position, but for all their
training, they were incompetents beside a true Lord of the Sith, who could hide
in broadest daylight and walk unseen and unheard amidst a crowd.
And, they tended to miss things when they could only see
with their eyes. His dark senses easily picked out the black trench carved into
the ground. A dry canal, five feet deep and twice that wide. Peering into it,
he noted the hard edges; it was manmade, perhaps intended long ago to channel
sewage. In the hollow of the canal there was an opening, blocked by a corroded
grille. He estimated it was wide enough for a man to walk inside it.
He reached into the stiff collar of his black leather
cuirass and pressed the tiny commlink to his lips. “Adjutant, move up on my
position. I’ve found an entrance to the sewers. This should allow us to cross
past the blocked passageway to Checkpoint seven.”
He then reached to his belt and unleashed the twin-bladed
lightsaber hanging there. It flashed to crimson brilliance with a rasping hiss,
and hummed angrily in his hand. He leaped down into the canal and slashed once.
The glowing blade growled as it disintegrated the rusted bars of the grille. He
shut down his lightsaber and kicked away the remaining bars. His squad clanked
loudly up behind him and immediately set up a defensive position atop the
canal.
“There’s no other way around, my Lord Bandon?” Adjutant
“Did you join the Legions to embrace the challenges
presented to you by the universe?” Bandon chuckled, “or to cower like an old
woman? Time is of the essence. Every minute wasted on ruminations of the
unknown is a minute the Jedi have to evade us. Embrace your fear, Adjutant
Saar. Or feel the heat of my blade. Your choice.”
Two troopers cursed softly and stepped forward. They
climbed down into the canal and snapped on the IR beams mounted on their
blaster rifles. Both peered into the darkness of the passageway tentatively.
“Move!” Bandon hissed tightly. At his steely command,
Genwaadi stepped in as if shoved. He disappeared within the opening, followed
closely by Lorst. Bandon crouched low at the mouth of the passage and watched
as they were swallowed by the darkness within. Several seconds passed as Bandon
listened to the scuffle of their boots bouncing back down the passage towards
him. He sighed and made to enter behind them. As he did so, the passageway
erupted with the blistering curdle of screaming. Wet crunches spilled out of
the tunnel and Bandon instinctively ignited his saber. The red glare it cast
briefly illuminated long, pale limbs thrashing and bright yellow teeth.
Gleaming eyes reflected the light of his blade.
“Damn,” Bandon gasped. He saw flashes of motion within
the darkness, the splatter of dark blood. He stumbled backwards from the
passage way and called for
As he did so, screams tore through the squad behind and
above him. He whirled and saw pale, slick bodies dashing and leaping and
thrashing among his men. And he saw his men dying. Blaster fire exploded from
their rifles as they regained the battle sense drummed into their reflexes.
They took their shots with the precision born of desperation and instinct.
Bandon released his fury with a battlecry and launched
his body high above the floor of the trench. He arced over his squad and landed
behind them, a thirty foot leap which took no effort from his powerful muscles.
A torrent of movement surrounded him, and he saw them for what they were, wiry
white skinned things, hunched over like old men. But they moved like
quicksilver, sometimes leaning forward to run on all fours. Ragged bushes of
white hair crowned their oblong skulls, and their faces gleamed with two
shining eyes over a set of jagged and curved teeth.
And they gibbered with hunger; hunger for living meat!
“Abominations!” Bandon howled furiously, whirling in a
circle. His lightsaber blazed and hummed as it sizzled cleanly through muscle
and bone. Bodies fell around him, burned in half. Limbs plopped to the ground,
smoking.
Bandon continued his spin, thrusting forth his palm. His
will gusted forth, his thoughts tickling at the caress of the Force. The energy
of the Force shuddered through his body and leapt forth in an unseen explosion,
hurling two of the creatures away from his right side. One of them landed on a
sharp girder protruding from a pile of junk. The other bounced off the floor
and hopped eagerly back at him.
“Watch your fire!”
Bandon had to admire
Bandon saw his men fall in mere seconds. A crack, elite
squad of men, downed in a wet red flash. Bandon lowered his lightsaber for a
second as the creatures turned to face him. Most huddled over the bodies,
tearing through armor and into flesh with their dirty teeth. They stared at him
curiously, eyeing his lightsaber warily. And then, he saw in their gleaming
eyes the distant thread of human intellect. They were sizing him up! Trying to
determine if his flesh was worth the danger he posed.
They made their decision.
Slowly they began to advance, crawling over their
brethren who were still feasting on warm bodies. Bandon closed down his
lightsaber and smiled at the monsters grimly. He gave a short bow from the
waist and spun on his heels. He ran, calling on the Force to become a blur of
pure speed.
*
Lal froze as she heard the distant scream. It warbled on
a for a long moment before it was shredded into silence. She crouched in the
gloom of the Undercity, pressing against Carth in front of her. The vibroblade
she wore on her belt dug into her hip painfully, but her muscles were iced
over. Carth glanced back at her, wearing the darksight visor she’d picked up
for him. Concern wrinkled his brow, but Lal didn’t even want to whisper out an
explanation.
“Maybe this was a bad idea,”
“It was a bad idea,” Carth whispered, a cold sweat
beading his brow, “for you to come along, kid. What the hell was that anyway?
Rakghouls?”
Lal swallowed a thick dry lump in her throat and shook
her head. “A man. Having a bad dream, I’d imagine. We should move quickly.” She
lowered her eyes to her wrist-mounted computer, which displayed a scrolling
graphic of a century-old map of the Undercity’s sewers. She pointed down a
broad corridor that dripped with brown water. Carth nodded stiffly and the four
of them moved as silently as possible down the tunnel.
Lal had long since given up trying to pry her arm from
Carth initially had not objected, seeing the logic in her
inclusion. But the fear of dark places had infected him as well, and he was
probably thinking that
Lal had taken the time to guide
Lal stuck with her customary Slipsuit, outfitted with a
combat harness loaded with equipment and a few flash grenades. A non-regulated,
chopped barrel blaster rifle hung from her back and its stubby weight pressed
down against her spine relentlessly. She also carried her two blaster pistols,
one holstered in a rig against her thigh and the other nestled against the
small of her back. And the vibroblade. It was a short bladed sword fitted into
an oscillation armature. The armature made the blade vibrate so swiftly that it
became a chromed blur that could cut through orbital grade durasteel.
Additionally, she carried a Randomizer unit, mounted on
her belt. It had been the hardest piece of equipment to track down, even with
her contacts in the black arms market. When activated, it threw off a field
that disrupted the phase of the light waves surrounding her body. The
oscillations it created in the visible light spectrum didn’t so much make her
invisible as difficult to notice. All it really did was play a trick on the
eye. It broke up her shape, and if she stood still, she would hardly be noticed
by anyone looking.
She’d picked up a bolt-coat for Carth; it was a piece of
armor that helped disperse the energy of an incoming blaster bolt ranging
between 100 and 1500 tenams intensity. Mostly small arms fire. It wasn’t as
effective as some of the power shields available to the military, but it was
all she could get on such short notice. Carth carried only his twinned pistols
and a brace of explosives. He seemed just fine with that.
Zaalbar rounded their little crew out with his customary
bandolier and his bowcaster. Aside from a few odds and ends, his Wookiee pride
would abide nothing more. Stupid carpet.
Still, each of them was fairly well kitted out, Lal
decided. And yet, she felt naked as a baby after hearing that throat-rending
scream.
They made their way deeper into the sewers, and Lal and
Carth fell into a comfortable pattern of advancing and covering by twos. She
latched onto his military precision, and let it sink deep into her reflexes. It
helped push away the terror burning in her belly. Soon, even
After they’d descended a series of rusty, sweating
ladders, Lal fell into a crouch to examine her wrist-comp’s map again. One of
Gadon’s boys had specified the route they’d already taken into the sewers and
had pointed out the location of the Rancor. But as they moved deeper and deeper
in, none of them could comfortably ignore the distant pounding thunder that
shuddered up through the metal walls and floors from below.
Thoom! Thoom!
Like something hammering in rage against the walls. And
it seemed to move about, bouncing along the floors and ceilings from different
angles.
Thoom! Thoom!
After several hours of walking, Carth called for a halt. In relief,
Carth moved over to where Lal leaned against a wall and
stood next to her. “Map check,” he whispered.
Thoom!
Lal jumped despite herself and nodded with a nervous
jitter thrumming through her muscles.
Carth held her wrist-comp up, frowning darkly at the map
display. “I think we missed a side passage a ways back,” he said. “This is
taking too long.”
“We didn’t miss anything,” Lal told him. “This is the
fifth sublevel.” She pointed to a grimy yellow “5” painted on a nearby wall.
Carth squinted up at the peeling number and walked up to
it. He reached up to wipe at the grime that had been smeared over the number.
As he wiped, Lal groaned. It was a “6”.
“Damn,” she muttered, lowering her head.
“It’s okay,” Carth told her, examining her map again. “I
think these sublevels are all built the same…if we take that south door…I think
we can cut across and reach the main cistern. We’ll be a level lower but…but
maybe we can climb up.”
“Can someone tell me again exactly why we’re headed towards the Rancor?”
Zaalbar reminded her with a growl that they had little
choice.
Carth nodded. “The Beks said the Vulkars had sealed up
the other passages leading to their safehouse.”
“And how the heck are we supposed to get past that
thing?”
“We’ll work that out when we get there,” Carth said, his
voice stiff with faked confidence. Lal sniffed it out plain as day. But she
didn’t mention it. Let Carth cling to his hopes and optimisms. He was welcome
to them as far as she was concerned. She might have called him on it, just to
mess with him a few days ago. But she had other things on her mind.
She still didn’t know exactly why she was here, doing
this, risking her life foolishly for others. She still didn’t know exactly why
she cared so much about a joygirl like
She didn’t really owe Zaerdra anything. Or Carth. And
even if she did, she was powerful enough to utterly disregard them. If she
wanted, she could have ordered one of her men to kill Zaerdra. She could have
sold Carth out to the Sith. Still could, probably.
But even as the thoughts entered her mind, she knew she
would never act on them. Knew it for a solid fact. She just didn’t know why.
“Credit for your thoughts?” Carth smiled hopefully.
She chuckled and waved her hand at him. “You can’t afford
a credit.”
“Maybe you’ll spot me, then, hmm?”
“I…I’m just thinking…thinking about…why I’m here. All
sweaty and nasty, just to help you.”
Carth shrugged and pressed his arm against hers as he
stood beside her. “Maybe you aren’t here for me. Maybe you’re here for you.”
Lal turned to stare at him incredulously. “Carth Onasi,
where in the bloody hell do you get this material? Does the Republic supply its
soldiers with catch-phrases like that?”
“Not officially,” he grinned. “The…the man who convinced
me to join the Republic armed forces…he told me that. I was just a bush pilot
back then, doing trench runs against river pirates. Telos is…was…a river-world. Rivers carving through canyons and
valleys…beautiful. Mandalorians had set up a base of operations on-world.
Running guns through the local black marketers.”
“So you decided to become a war hero.”
“It wasn’t like that. Well, maybe at first. But the
Mandalorians were slowly choking off our supply lines. They were doing their
level best to drain Telos dry. Our leaders didn’t see it. Didn’t want to see
it. Saying no to a Mandalorian who decides he wants what you got is…well, it’s
suicide. There were a few of us who decided that the Mandalorians were just
gonna turn on us. It’s in their nature. And that’s what they did. We joined the
Republic. Driving hand-me-down Seinar Slipfighters. We were able to force the
Mandalorians’ hand, and that brought the Republic officially into the fight.
Well…as official as the war was back then. It was a cold war for many years,
but was pretty hot in a lot of systems like mine. Well, the Mandalorians were
sure surprised when the Republic decided to park a few Nebulon cruisers off
Telos. Sent ‘em running home. In a matter of months, the Republic had a Defense
Platform in orbit, and we were officially a member world. That meant our little
militia got absorbed into the regular forces.
“I got a commission as an officer,” Carth went on.
“Sweep-Wings were still technically experimental fighter designs back then.
Variable geometry was new back in those days. Me and my unit were the first
humans to fly ‘em. Telosians were able to adapt to the new control systems more
easily, because we were used to flying at a higher level of…I don’t know what
you’d call it…skill, maybe. But that’s where I cut my teeth.”
Lal marveled silently at how his eyes lit up like little
gems when he spoke of driving a Sweep-Wing
fighter. Of flying canyons like a madman. And a rogue thought passed through
her mind, wondering what it would be like to let him take her in his strong
arms…She killed that thought quickly. This was the man most likely to get her
killed.
“You said ‘was’,” she told him. “’Telos was.’ Not is.
What’d you mean by that?”
“I…we’d better get going, Lal.”
*
The main cistern was a central shaft, nearly fifty feet
wide. It ran down the length of the sewer station; the five levels above them
and a bottomless drop far below. Once, all the sewer conduits would have
emptied into this central shaft in a torrent of water, hammering downward. Now
the conduits each released nothing more than a weak trickle of brown muck,
staining the walls with ancient filth. Lal peered down from the ledge they
stood on and tried to gauge how far down the shaft dropped before it bottomed
out.
Thoom!
Lal gasped in shock and the sound sent her eyes questing
upwards. “Wasn’t it below us before?”
“M-maybe it’s moving around again,”
“Sound’s playing tricks on us,” Carth murmured. “This
shaft is hell on the acoustics, I bet.” He leaned out onto the ledge and peered
around. “There,” he pointed, indicating a ladder a few feet off the side of the
ledge. He swung out and grabbed it with one hand. He hung there for a moment,
half on the ledge and half on the ladder. He held his free hand to
“Go on. I’m fine,” she told him. Carth shrugged and made
his way up beneath
Zaalbar shrugged and grumbled to himself. He slung his
bowcaster over his shoulder and started up the ladder as well.
“Next level,”
“Hold on,
“Won’t that just take us back to the level we came in at,
Lal?”
“No,” Lal murmured, glancing at her wrist-comp again.
“According to the map, there’s a level above the one we entered. Some sort of
maintenance station, I think. It doesn’t look like it has normal access to the
substation levels. I think…I think there’s a trapdoor. Hard to tell from this
map.”
“Well, might as well try it,” Carth said. “Maybe we can
bypass that monster this way.
But as they neared the top, the ladder and walls became
drier. It grew easier to hold on to the ladder up here.
“Alright,” Carth told them. “The ladder leads right up to
a trapdoor. Hold on a sec…” he reached upwards with one hand and pushed on the
door. He grunted with the effort and had to heave upwards several times before
the door finally opened with a groan. Flakes of rust fluttered down into Lal’s
hair and eyes.
She pawed at her eyes to clear them, but they started to
water and sting. Carth hauled his body upwards, half disappearing through the
trapdoor.
“Looks clear,” he yelled down at them. “I’m gonna--”
His body jerked upwards suddenly, disappearing entirely
through the door.
“Carth!” Lal cried out. She scrambled up towards
Without thinking, Lal snapped an arm out and slid it
around
The Wookiee reacted immediately, snatching Carth’s leg as
he fell downwards. Zaalbar howled as Carth’s weight yanked on his arm.
Suddenly, blaster fire rained down on them from above. The flutter of energy
blasts flickered brightly against the ladder, and
Lal gasped as a fleck of hot durasteel lanced across her
cheek. She squinted against the flash of blasters from above; she counted about
three of them, firing down through the trapdoor. It was too crowded for them to
get off any accurate shots, but since Lal and the others didn’t have any cover
or anywhere to go, their lifespan would be measured in seconds. And her hands
were full. She clung to the ladder with one hand and held on to
They had to improvise.
“
She didn’t think about aiming when she released it. She
just closed her eyes and launched it straight up. The grenade sailed through
the trapdoor and exploded almost immediately. Lal slithered up the ladder in a
sudden burst of speed and hissed through the trapdoor. She whirled around,
squinting against the blazing flare of light and heat the grenade emitted.
There were three massive figures staggering blindly around her.
Lal dropped low, and unleashed her blasters. She fired on
them with cruel accuracy, burning holes into throats and faces. A second later,
three bodies hit the deck around her, smoking and burning. Lal remained in a
crouch for a second more, her muscles frozen. Her breath leaped from her in
sharp ragged gasps as her blood hammered against the inside of her skin. She
glanced around the chamber, and saw no other enemies. She noticed an opening to
her right; it led out onto some sort of railed walkway into the darkness, but
she couldn’t see where it led.
After her muscles unclenched, Lal sighed and peered back
down through the trapdoor. “Is everybody okay?”
“I’m fine, Lal,” Carth murmured weakly. “feel like my
head got run over by a runaway speeder truck is all…”
Relief flooded through Lal’s body. She reached down to
help
“Okay,”
“We gotta keep going,” Carth said, pushing himself to his
feet. His first attempt was not exactly successful. Lal found herself rushing
to his side to steady him. “I’m fine, he protested, weakly pushing her hands
away. Lal ignored him and instead focused on the gash upon his forehead.
“Now you have a matching set,” she told him, nodded at
the bruise still adorning the other side of his skull. She reached into one of
the pouches on her harness and pulled out a tiny field medpack. She tore open
the silvery seal and cleaned the wound with an antiseptic wipe. Then she
cracked the single-use K-Syrette and smeared it across the wound.
Carth sighed and allowed her to work. A grin struggled
its way onto his lips as she tended to him. “Y’know, a guy could get used to
this,” he told her.
Lal couldn’t help smiling herself. But she merely
finished up on his wound, spreading a liquid bandage across the gash. In
seconds, the bandage polymerized in the air and squeezed the wound shut. She
pulled away with a sigh as his grin brightened at her.
He pointed to his wound and cleared his throat. “Ah…you
forgot one thing: you gotta kiss it and make it feel better.”
“Mmm-hmm. Zaalbar?”
Zaalbar held up his shaggy paws and shook his head. He
grunted about not wanting to be involved in tawdry human sex rituals.
Lal chuckled while Carth just shook his head in
amusement. Before Carth turned away, she leaned close on the pretense of giving
his cut a final look-over: “Ask me again if we survive. Flyboy.”
Glancing down into her eyes in surprise, he nodded.
“I’ll, uh…I’ll do that…”
She laughed softly and drifted over to the opening that
led to the catwalk.
Zaalbar howled in fury and hurled one of the bodies down
the trapdoor. He reached for a second body, but Lal rushed over to stop him.
“Easy, Zaalbar. They’re dead. They won’t be hurting anyone else.”
Zaalbar glanced down at her, seething with snarls and
yowls. She held his gaze until his fury simmered and he released a short nod.
“I don’t mean to pry, big guy,” Carth told the Wookiee
quietly, “but…are you…okay?”
Zaalbar snapped his head around and unleashed a roar.
Carth held up his hands. “Okay, okay. None of my business.
I was just…as long as you’re okay.”
Zaalbar relented and hung his shaggy head. He yowled
forth an apology. He glanced at Lal because he did not have the words.
Lal patted the Wookiee’s chest. “Gammoreans on Taris are
heavily involved in the slave trade, Carth. It’s believed they’re working for
the Vulkars…they go on raids. Villages like the one we saw two nights ago…and
sometimes they invade the alien habs in LowCity. It’s easy for them to get in
because they’re…well, aliens. Two years ago…I was in a LowCity apartment
ring…on business. I was with a Mandalore named Ordo. He was…ah…watching my
back. There were some Gammoreans wrestling a big Wookiee with shock sticks.”
She nodded her head at Zaalbar.
“And you rescued him?” Carth stammered. “I’m shocked. Out
of the kindness of your heart?”
“Ahem. It was business,” Lal explained. “It was an enemy
operation in Davik’s territory. Unsanctioned, in other words. I tried to
explain that to Zaalbar, but--”
Zaalbar interrupted with a short string of grunts that
silenced Lal. Redness bloomed across her cheeks and she shrugged. “See what I
mean?” she said. “He’s an obstinate carpet.”
Carth chuckled. “He’s right though, Lal. Even if you did do the right thing for the wrong reasons, actions speak
louder than words.”
“Cliché,” Lal cut in. “Wookiees are big on cliché.
Anyhow, this just proves the pig-boys are working for the Vulkars.”
“Davik would probably shut them down if he knew for
sure,”
“No
They all absorbed that in silence.
“Well, we uh…we need to get moving,” Carth said softly.
He headed towards the opening to the catwalk and peered out. “No light. Not
even enough ambient light for my goggles. FlikStiks, people.”
Everyone except
In the dim light, they all chose their paths carefully,
stepping gingerly and softly. But still the metal catwalk creaked and groaned
beneath their weight. Along one side of the catwalk was a wall of cold, moist
metal. Along the other side, darkness extended beyond the range of their
FlikStiks. A thin handrail was all that guarded them against the yawning,
stretching dark.
The air that rose up was thick and warm with a stench
like sweetened rot; the stink of fruit gone bad, of yeast-sweet decay. But
there was something else dwelling within that stink, something Lal couldn’t
quite pin down.
Lal grabbed her shoulder before she could say any more.
In the dim light Lal put a finger up to her lips for
It made a dim green sphere of light as it trailed slowly
downward into the impenetrable black. As it fell, it cast its weak light across
a rocky surface; a monolith composed of jagged humps.
And massive spear-like teeth. And arms as wide as tree
trunks.
The figure watched the FlikStik fall with two tiny black
eyes; watched it fall between the huge talons adorning its stumpy feet. Then,
the Rancor glanced up at the railing and roared hungrily.
Zaalbar roared in alarm and all of them pressed
themselves back against the wall. The Rancor’s broad, flat head craned upwards
to watch them, and viscous drool fell in long glistening ropes from its jagged
fangs. It was the largest living creature Lal had ever seen, with flesh like
stone and long powerful limbs. Its foreclaws flexed anxiously; a man could
easily fit within those huge paws. Its tiny eyes narrowed and it slammed its
foreclaws onto the floor. Thoom!
“At least we seem to have found a way around the thing,”
Carth whispered tightly in Lal’s ear. “Come on…”
And then the Rancor reached up with a massive claw,
tearing apart the catwalk before them as if it were paper. Lal yanked Carth
back as he began to slide downwards towards the rent. He nodded gratefully and whipped out his
blaster pistols. “So much for that plan…”
The Rancor reached up towards them and they had nowhere
to run. Carth fired as the paw came near and the Rancor yowled in rage and
pain, snatching its paw back to its chest. The Rancor passed back and forth
beneath them, and tried again to grasp at them. Once more, Carth shot the paw
as it came close. Again, it drew its wounded appendage back sharply.
“Like it ain’t mad enough already!”
Lal unholstered a blaster and took careful aim at the
thing’s huge head. She tracked across its skull with a line of fire that
stitched right across one of the Rancor’s eyes. It shrieked in agony and
clutched at its face. As it writhed in pain, Carth jerked a thumb at the gap in
the catwalk.
“I think we can jump it!” he cried. “Go! While it’s
occupied!”
Lal nodded and shoved
“You next, Lal,” Carth said, grabbing her arm and
wrenching her forward. Lal easily cleared the gap and landed in a crouch.
Carth jumped across then, and nearly slipped down when he
landed. Lal yanked on his jacket, pulling him up to safety. Zaalbar howled
fearfully and shook his shaggy head.
“Come on you big carpet!” Lal cried to him.
Zaalbar yelped an insult in reply. But even as he did, he
flexed his powerful legs to take a leap.
And the Rancor bashed the wall with a mighty fist,
jarring Zaalbar from the catwalk. The Wookiee howled as he fell. He hit the
floor and rolled, snarling in pain.
“Zaalbar!” Lal screamed, dashing back towards the rent.
Carth grabbed her and held her back.
The Rancor loomed victoriously over the tiny form of the
Wookiee. It snatched Zaalbar up and raised him to its jagged, slavering maw.
Lal snarled incoherently and shoved her elbow into Carth’s belly. He fell back,
releasing her. She drew her vibroblade and thumbed the activation switch. With
another scream of primal rage, she flung herself over the railing at the
Rancor.
In a single motion devoid of any sort of active thought,
she landed on the beast’s skull and stabbed downward with her blade. The weapon
hissed into the soft, pulsing flesh covering its wide nostrils and buzzed and
whirred as it chewed through the monster’s dense meat. The Rancor howled and
swung its head backwards. Lal flew from the thing with a shriek and crashed
into the floor behind it.
Zaalbar fell gasping and panting from its claw while the
monster raged wildly about. It scraped at its head, trying to dislodge the
blade stuck in it, still humming and grinding and tearing. The Rancor staggered
backwards, spitting thick, black blood from its nostrils. Lal barely had time
to roll to the side as a foot thundered into the floor where she had landed.
Lal!”
The creature whipped around in drunken circles, hammering
the floor with fists and feet. It slammed into the wall in a frenzy, throwing
Carth and
“Damn it,” Carth yelled at them. “Get outta there!”
Lal screamed back, “I’m trying!” and as she did, she
stumbled over a pile of rotting carcasses. She gasped and fell on her bottom.
Zaalbar roared a warning just as the Rancor turned and stumbled directly
towards her. Lal scrambled backwards on her elbows, but couldn’t move quickly
enough. The Rancor slammed its head into the floor right in front of her,
jarring her bones with the fury of the impact.
The sword, still stuck in its head, whipped towards her,
and on instinct, Lal reached out and grabbed the hilt tightly. As she did, the
Rancor stood up again and whirled around, spraying the walls with its blood.
Lal clutched the sword hilt desperately, but got jerked and slammed around as
the Rancor raged about.
Finally, she was able to plant her feet on the thing’s
skull. She drove down on the blade as hard as she could manage and felt the
blade rip through flesh and meat and gristle. The Rancor jerked sharply, and a
spray of blood hissed from the wound, splashing Lal’s Slipsuit and cheeks.
As she hung on, she yelled at Carth to toss her one of
his grenades.
“Wha--”
“Do it!” she screamed. She had no idea how she managed to
catch the plasma detonator Carth hurled at her. Her mind simply wasn’t
functioning on a level she could understand. But the grenade landed in her palm
perfectly. And she felt like a rider in a vehicle shaped like her own body,
watching helplessly as she twisted the fuse control with her teeth.
She was moving on pure momentum, without any direction
from her will or desire. She watched herself as she yanked the blade free; it
had done so much damage to the surrounding meat that it felt like pulling the
sword from a pool of water. More blood sprayed across her, this time
accompanied by hunks of rubbery matter.
In the space between seconds, Lal rammed the fist holding
the grenade into the ragged wound she had carved. And then, she let go. As the seconds caught up with her, as
physical law caught up to her, the creature’s frenzy hurled her into the wall.
She hit hard and slid limply to the floor.
And then, she saw and felt nothing.
*
Lal dreamed the nightmare once more. She was submerged in
it, and couldn’t swim to the surface. There, in the watery depths of her mind,
she saw a cold dark chamber that opened into the void of space. Standing before
the void was a mountain painted red; dark red, the color of old blood. It was a
man. Broad shouldered, powerfully built, sheathed in blood red. A heavy cloak
spread from his massive shoulders and fluttered in the tides she dreamed.
Slowly, he turned his naked skull, and she saw that he
had no mouth. Only a pair of white eyes burning like angry stars. It was him.
He had found her in her dreams again. But this time, she could not seem to wake
up.
He stared in confusion at her for a moment, his eyes
narrowing as if his mind was struggling to recognize her face.
“It can’t be possible,” he rasped at her, his voice
pounding in her skull like metallic thunder. “You
are not possible!”
Suddenly, Lal bobbed to the surface, leaving her watery
nightmare, leaving the mouthless one in the darkened depths. Her eyes fluttered
and she awoke to the fetid reek of a Wookiee’s breath. Zaalbar huddled over
her, cradling her in his shaggy arms and crooning softly for her to wake up.
Lal coughed wetly, and felt a sharp blade of pain tear
through her side. “I’m awake…” she groaned weakly. Zaalbar yelped happily and
stroked her hair with his paw. She glanced around for the Rancor, and saw it
laying still, a mountain of dead meat, missing a head.
“Lal!”
“That was one in a million, Lal!” Carth yelled. “Never
seen anything like that…”
Lal tried to stand, but the pain in her side clenched
down on her body. Zaalbar gently helped her to her feet. She clutched her arm
to her side and tried to determine if she’d just cracked a rib, or if it had
snapped entirely. Her head swam with the pain, but she couldn’t feel anything
grinding inside of her.
“Lal,” Carth went on, “Me and
“Too risky,” she gasped weakly. Zaalbar repeated her
words loud enough for Carth and
“Well, we can’t get down safely,” Carth told them. “And I
don’t see a way for you to get back up here…”
Lal glanced around the blood smeared chamber. Zaalbar
pointed out a door at the far end. She saw it and nodded, leaning heavily
against his shaggy bulk. “Odds are, there’s a door at the end of the catwalk
too…You guys keep going, and we’ll try to meet up inside…”
“Lal…” Carth called down, “are you sure you’re okay?”
She nodded, trying to durasteel herself against the pain.
“Zaalbar…we have got to do something about your
breath. It could wake the dead…”
Zaalbar chuckled and growled that it very nearly had done
just that. He bent to retrieve his bowcaster. He also picked up her vibroblade.
She flicked it on experimentally. It still hummed along well enough, even
though the edge of the blade was scored with chips and nicks and scratches. And
it had an odd rattle when she swung it.
“Still all in one piece,” she sighed softly, sheathing
the blade at her hip. She nodded her head the door and glanced up at Zaalbar.
“Let’s do this.”
*
The Black Vulkars hadn’t thought to put a guard on the
door; they figured a Rancor was rather sufficient to the task. They had never
imagined in a thousand years that someone would be able to kill the monster.
Generally speaking, the only thing that could kill a Rancor was another Rancor.
A bigger one. But their pet monstrosity was, in fact, dead, and its killer now
hunted the beast’s masters.
After the four of them had reunited on a stairwell, Lal
decided to use her Randomizer to scout the place out. With any luck, she’d find
where they were holding Selli. Lal didn’t believe in luck, but accepted it when
it was on her side. After she had worked her way through the shadows of the
Vulkar safehouse, she had counted only six of them here. Four of them were
playing Sabacc. One was in some sort of office, sitting behind a computer console,
smoking Pakh. And one was standing guard in front of what looked to be a
security door. Every so often, his head bobbed, as if he were drifting off to
sleep and snapping back awake.
Her first main challenge was evading the security cameras
that panned back and forth in most of the corridors. The Vulkar in the office,
a Twi’lek, was probably keeping an eye on those cameras on his computer
display. Of course, the more she thought about it, the more and more she began
to doubt it. These Vulkars thought no one could touch them. They would never
have imagined anyone could get past that pet monster of theirs.
But she had to be sure.
She pressed her commlink to her mouth and whispered into
it. “Okay…I count six. I got four playing cards in the central chamber. One
half-asleep on guard on the far corridor. And another in a control room. Be
advised, we have monitor cameras. I’m going to neutralize the cameras. The rest
of you can move up and take out the cardies on my signal.”
“Affirmative,” Carth replied. “We wait for your go.”
Lal shut off her commlink completely. She crouched
directly beneath the camera swiveling slowly above her. She waited until she
had figured out the camera’s pattern and then made a dash as it swiveled away
from her path. She ducked around into an alcove and flicked her Randomizer on.
Around her, the air turned to liquid. Anyone looking in her direction would see
little more than the wall. But from her perspective, it was like swimming in a
pool of murky water.
She waited for the camera to swivel away again, and then
moved to the door across from her. The keypad showed it was locked, but Lal had
developed a bit of a professional familiarity with these sorts of systems. A
year ago, she’d been ordered…get close to a troublesome councilman. To simply touch him. Davik
reckoned that would send the man enough of a message to stop poking into his
affairs. She’d spent a week memorizing override codes from several design
manuals she’d…acquired. It took her a moment to
dredge up the stats for this model. A few seconds later, she recalled the
master reset code which would send it back into a factory diagnostic mode. She
pressed in the numbers and glanced up at the camera. The door hissed open and
she slipped inside just as the camera swiveled back towards her.
The Twi’lek male at the computer console glanced up in
annoyance, but immediately saw she wasn’t one of his men. His lips curled back
in a snarl and he reached for a blaster on the console.
Lal was already moving.
He got a hold of the blaster and lifted it up just as her
foot crashed into his chest and slammed him backwards over his chair. He
thudded into the floor with a gasp while she landed on his desk in a compact
crouch. He reached out to grab his blaster and Lal fired herself towards him.
She pounced on his chest and he froze in agony. The impact squeezed the air
from his lungs and he gasped helplessly as she kicked his blaster away. She
rolled him onto his belly and knelt over him, twisting his arm around his back
until he cried out.
“I will break this if you offer me a problem,” she
whispered into the conical bone-plate of his ear.
“Hey…Lal Sideen…heh…no problems…no worries…What are you
doing here, huh?”
She twisted his arm further, shocking him into silence.
“I ask the questions.”
“No problem…you know…that business outside the
Daystar…that was…it wasn’t me…”
“Kandon, right?” she hissed. “
“I…Brejik just…rewarded his friends is all…”
“Sure. Now I’m going to reward you, Kandon. I want you to
give me Selli and I’ll reward you with your life.”
“Huh? Selli? What do you care about that skag?”
She jerked his arm a bit more and he gasped in pain.
“Who’s asking the questions here?”
“Hell! You are!”
“Right. Selli. I want her.”
“Well, Lal…I…I can’t do that…” he moaned, “business and
all…”
Lal shoved his forehead into the floor, splintering his
nose. “Would you like to try a guess at how difficult it might or might not be
for me to do this without your assistance, Kandon?”
“Oh hell…no…okay, okay! Dammit, my nose! Alright, I’ll
help…just let me up, please, and don’t hit me anymore!”
Lal sighed and decided to check him for any weapons. When
she was satisfied, she rose and yanked him to his feet. She shoved him face
first into the wall and stood back from him with her blaster aimed at his
spine. “How many men aside from the other five I’ve already counted?”
“That’s…that’s all…how did you get past Fluffy?” he whimpered,
bleeding freely from his nose.
“Fluffy?”
“Our Rancor!”
“You named your Rancor…” she shook her head in amazement,
“Fluffy…Fluffy’s not what I’m concerned
about, Kandon. I’m concerned about Selli. She’s who you should be concerned
about too. You have a guard on Selli?”
“I….yes…”
“I want you to have him meet you here.”
“Ah…” he murmured, “what should I tell him?”
“Tell him you bloody want to have a chat with him,” she
snapped.
He nodded weakly and turned to head for the door. She
grabbed him by the back of his collar and slammed him into the wall again.
“What are you doing, Kandon?”
“I was…I was going to go and…”
Lal rolled her eyes. “Idiots. You Vulkars are idiots, you
know that? You dolts simply should not be allowed to take precious air from
people who actually posses a bloody clue. Call him from your station, idiot.”
“Oh yeah…”
She maneuvered him into his chair and sat down on the
table beside him. “And Kandon?”
“Yes?”
“Do you know how many men I’ve killed?”
“Er…a lot?”
“And I’m not finished. If you screw up, you’ll be the
next one.”
Kandon nodded, his lips trembling. He leaned forward over
his computer and pressed a comm-channel button. “Uh…Freesa…g-get up here
you…sorry son of a space slug! We need to ch--talk…now!”
“What
is it this time, man?” Freesa replied on the comm. “I didn’t do nothin’!”
Kandon held Lal’s gaze fearfully as he spoke, “Just get
up here, dammit!”
Lal nodded and reached over to close the comm-channel.
She watched on the monitor as the Vulkar guarding the security door sighed and
walked off. A minute later, the door hissed open.
“Hey, Kandon, your door is unlocked and--”
Lal shot him on the stun setting of her blaster. He
dropped like a bag of stones. Lal turned her commlink back on and gave Carth
the “go.”
“Alright, Kandon. Let’s move.” She hauled him up by his
collar and pushed him towards the door.
“Where are we going?”
“Idiot. To Selli. You’re going to open the door for me.”
*
Now that she no longer had to worry about anyone watching
the cameras, Lal didn’t bother hiding from them as she marched Kandon towards
the security door. She would have preferred to keep her distance from him of
course; if she’d had a credit for every time some amateur pressed a gun into
her back only to lose it to her five seconds later, she’d be…well, she was
already rather wealthy.
But Kandon, being a rather mediocre variety of scum,
didn’t have the presence of mind to think about taking her blaster, nor the
skill to pull it off without getting burned down. But he still had the temerity
to make a run if she didn’t keep a short leash on him.
So, she walked him up to the door with her blaster
against his spine and her other hand clutching the back of his collar. “Open
it,” she told him.
He sighed and keyed in the sequence on the keypad. His
fingers trembled as he punched in the numbers. The door cranked open and Lal
shoved Kandon inside. He stumbled and hit the floor face first, shrieking as
his nose grinded against the ground. Lal glanced around the inside of the room
before stepping inside. No one waited with a blaster, at least.
But she wasn’t entirely prepared for what was waiting.
“Kandon…what have you done…”
Selli’s broken and shattered body hung against the wall
by a pair of manacles. Slashes and bruises covered every inch of her body. Her
face was a pulped ruin of blood. The sensuous, long lekku had been burned. Lal
lowered her blaster and went to kneel at Selli’s side. As she did so, she
realized her mistake.
On the floor, Kandon reached into his boot for a slim
little throwing knife. She couldn’t believe she’d missed it.
“You stupid witch!” Kandon screamed. “I’ll kill you!” He
cocked his arm to let the dagger fly. Lal was slightly faster, lifting her
blaster and stroking the trigger.
Kandon’s face disappeared in a gout of oily smoke and
fire. He fell backwards and lay still. His dagger bounced off the wall beside
Lal’s head. Lal sat there for a moment, her eyes lingering on the dagger. She
hadn’t thought his aim would be nearly so good. But not good enough. In the
distance, she heard blaster fire; Carth and Zaalbar taking out the Sabacc
players…
She turned her attention to Selli and checked at her
throat for a pulse. Weak and thready. She used her sword to slice through the
chains at Selli’s battered wrists, and gently lowered the girl to the floor.
Selli gasped weakly, opening a single swollen eye to stare at her. “Lal?”
“It’s okay, Selli,” Lal soothed, pulling out a medpack.
“You’re going to be alright.”
“They…I couldn’t st-stop them…they…”
Lal pricked Selli’s arm with a Syrette, and looked over
the girl’s wounds. The Vulkars had had a party. Pulled out all the stops. The
girl would be lucky to survive. Heat flooded Lal’s muscles, and she imagined
herself killing Brejik with her bare hands. He would pay for this. There would
be hell to pay.
But she couldn’t let Selli die. She had promised.
“Selli…stay with me, honey! Your sister’s waiting for
you! The Beks are counting on you!”
Selli’s eye fluttered open and her throat clenched.
“Lal…I’m all…br-broken…I c-can’t r-ride like th-this…”
“Selli, you’ll be fine. Just let the Kolto do its job.
We’ll get you to a doc. I know a good one. He’ll have you better than new…”
“Don’t let Zaerdra see me like this, Lal,” Selli gasped.
“I d-don’t want her t-to know…”
“Selli…you’re going to be…okay…”
Selli nodded weakly and tried to smile. But her torn lips
didn’t work. “You came t-to s-save me, Lal…c-cool…”
The Hidden Beks’ main headquarters crouched in what used
to be a loading bay complex. A few
hundred years ago, before the UpCity had risen so high, ships would dock in a
massive underground bay. In those days, the
The bays now served as a stronghold for the gang; a place
to flop, to park their swoops and speeder bikes, a place to play. But there was
no play tonight. Three hours ago, Lal Sideen had staggered in with Selli’s limp
body. She had been swamped by Beks, trying to see if the girl was alive or
dead. When Selli managed a weak smile at her sister, Zaerdra had taken her from
Lal and they had left Lal and her companions to wait in an abandoned office.
Through the shattered window of the office, they could
see down into the first floor of the complex where Beks hustled about
frantically, trying to crowd into the door of a side chamber where a doc tended
to Selli. Carth stood at the window, staring down at the floor below. He
propped his hands on his slender waist and frowned darkly. Zaalbar howled about
being hungry and glanced from Carth to Lal. The Wookiee settled his towering
bulk on the corner of an old desk. It creaked warningly beneath his furred
bottom.
“You look hurt,
Lal,”
“I’m fine, honey,” Lal told the girl.
“She’s right, Lal,” Carth told her as he drifted over to
kneel before her. He laid a hand on her knee and smiled warmly at her. “You
might have cracked a rib when that monster tossed you. Got anymore medpacks?”
Lal squeezed her eyes shut in annoyance, but nodded. She
reached to the pouch at the rear of her belt, but the effort hurled a dagger
into her side. She froze with a sharp gasp, her hands clenching. Carth sighed
and got the medpack from her belt.
“You’re gonna need to take it easy, Lal,” he told her. He
tore open the seal and dumped the compressed contents out onto the couch beside
Lal. “Alright. Take your shirt off.”
Lal opened her eyes and glared sullenly at him. “Excuse
me?”
He stared right back, earnestly, defiantly, into her dark
eyes. “Listen, I need to see how bad it is.”
“I’m…fine…” she growled through clenched teeth.
“The hell you are, lady,” he chuckled, unfolding a
bandage wrap between his hands. “Now take the shirt off. You don’t have
anything I haven’t seen.”
“The shirt doesn’t come off,” she hissed back.
“Lal…”
“It doesn’t come off!” she snapped loudly. “It’s a
one-piece! Besides, I…I not wearing…I don’t have anything …on…underneath…” Her
face reddened as a smile drifted over his lips. “And I’m not giving you a free
show.”
Carth lowered his eyes and shook his head. “You’re a
stubborn woman,” he sighed. He pushed to his feet and glanced at
“I don’t need
“That’s why you’re so damned pale, huh?” Carth grunted
down at her. “Because you’re fine?”
“I’m pale because I live and work underground, Carth.”
“Unbelievable. Zaalbar, maybe you could talk to her?”
Carth asked.
Zaalbar opened his mouth to bark at Lal, but she pointed
at him angrily; “Shut up, Carpet. I don’t wanna hear it.” Zaalbar glanced back
at Carth and shrugged his massive shoulders helplessly. Zaalbar fired off a
disparaging series of grunts and growls under his breath and stepped out of the
office onto the staircase outside it.
“So we just sit here and wait?” Carth asked, cocking his
hips to one side. Lal watched him through heavily lidded eyes and decided she
liked the way his hips moved. She could explain to him that they had to wait to
see if Selli would live. She could explain that everything in his plan depended
on that simple question. Or she could just watch him move when he was angry.
Lal found that she could learn who a man truly was when
he was battered and beaten by frustration. A man’s guard fell when control was
taken from him; when the outcome was made suddenly uncertain. When all that he
was or wanted or needed depended on the whim of fate. Or the will of another.
“I feel like I should be doing something,” Carth went on,
pacing back and forth before
Lal could sense that for herself; the way his dark brown
eyes flicked back and forth beneath a deeply furrowed brow. He folded his arms
across his chest and continued pacing. His hard boots made a little patina on
the broken tiles of the floor. The light streaming into the office painted his
chiseled features into a portrait of quiet desperation. He was trying…trying so
hard. And with every effort, he staggered closer to the edge.
Lal decided that he was about to break. She didn’t know
how it would happen; it was different for every man. Some broke into bags of
bubbling, whining despair. Others snapped when they broke, leaving painfully
sharp edges that slashed anyone who came close. And some, when they broke, they
simply folded themselves into quiet huddles, waiting for—needing—a
woman’s touch. Something gentle but strong to bring order back to chaos.
He would be vulnerable. Soon she would…
Lal stopped herself, stopped her thoughts. She had
slipped back into the thoughts of the Assassin; the Seductress. The Predator
that saw others as little bits of interesting meat. She closed her eyes tightly
and pushed her head back against the ragged cushions of the couch. She didn’t
want to be the predator now. Not now. She couldn’t be the predator now.
Well, she could. But did
she want that?
“D’ya think Selli’ll make it, Lal?”
Carth stopped his pacing and turned a glance out the
window of the office.
“I don’t know
“
“No…not really, I guess,”
Carth's arched eyebrow showed that he didn’t know.
Lal sat up and stood, moving over to
Carth watched the affection drift between both women and
sighed a bit uncomfortably. As with most men, he didn’t have any words to make
it all better. And he was incapable of doing anything to make things right. Lal
watched him still.
“
“But…you d-don’t know,”
Carth sighed once more and lowered his eyes. “No. No, I
don’t know. But sometimes, you just have to hope. Have faith. Sometimes, it’s
the only way to get by.”
Mission was about to open her mouth to fire off a reply,
but thought twice about it. She closed her mouth and lowered her eyes. “I hope
Selli makes it…”
Lal gave
Suddenly, Zaalbar came roaring excitedly into the office,
beckoning them with a frantic paw. Lal and
*
Selli lay sleeping as Zaerdra and Gadon stood on one side
of the bed. On the opposite side, Dr. Forn stroked his white beard
thoughtfully, staring down at the young woman. Lal and the others hovered at
the door, peering inward. Lal kept an arm around
“She’s not out of the woods yet,” Zelka Forn told them
all. “She’s gonna need surgery. Some internal bleeding. I’d prefer to do it in
my clinic, but moving her, with all the injuries she’s sustained…”
“Is she going to be okay?” Zaerdra asked, her face
stained red with all the crying she’d done.
Forn pursed his lips tightly together. “I believe she’ll
come through it okay. She’s a strong young woman. She’s already survived these
injuries…the surgery won’t be a difficult. But I’m going to need to do it here.
No later than tomorrow. And I’m going to need a number of things from my
clinic. No questions, no obstructions.”
“Whatever you need, Doc,” Gadon assured him. “We’re
grateful…in your debt already.”
Forn shrugged. “Friends help friends. It’s that simple.”
He turned and glanced coolly at Lal. His demeanor frosted over immediately. For
Lal, it was no mystery why he disliked her, even though she’d never brought any
harm to his door. “Interesting company you keep, Mr. Theck.”
Lal released a sigh and stepped out of the room. Zaerdra
caught her out of the corner of her eye and hastened after her. She caught up
with Lal outside the room, calling her name.
Lal turned slowly steeling herself for another
confrontation with the woman. “Yes, Zaerdra. What is it?”
“I…” Zaerdra’s pale green eyes dropped to the floor and
she licked her lips. “Umm…I just wanted to…to thank you…for saving my sister. I
know that…you had no reason to risk your life…for hers…and I’m…well, I was
wrong. Wrong about you.”
“No, you were right about me, Zaerdra,” Lal told her.
“But…perhaps things change.”
Zaerdra nodded thoughtfully, wringing her hands nervously
before her. “Things do change, I suppose. The things I’ve said to you…I had no
right. I know that you’ve…you’ve helped us out. But, I was too angry…I blamed
you instead of…”
Lal stepped forward and laid her hands on Zaerdra’s
shoulders. She locked her gaze upon Zaerdra’s own. “We each have our burdens we
must bear. Sometimes the weight is too much to be carried alone. Other times,
it’s light enough that…that we can sometimes carry the burdens of others.”
Zaerdra nodded again, and smiled. “Will you accept my
apology?”
Lal realized what it must have took for such a proud
woman as Zaerdra to ask an enemy for forgiveness. Lal wondered if there was any
need for them to be enemies anymore. “No need,” she told Zaerdra. She felt a
wave of unbidden emotion sweep over her and she stuffed it down. Too much
sentimentality. But even so, she felt better. A smile danced on her lips, one
matched tentatively by Zaerdra. Understanding arced between the women like
electricity. Zaerdra nodded and drifted back into the room with her sister.
Carth left
“You know,” he began, “you’re never what I expect, Lal
Sideen.”
“That’s because I’m mysterious,
Carth Onasi.”
He glanced over her with a measuring gaze, trying to
figure her out. “You are a mystery. I…this was a good thing…what we did. What
you did…”
“Don’t get used to it. I’m still criminal scum,
remember?”
He chuckled and nodded. “That’s right. I’d forgotten. I’m
completely sure you have your own nefarious agenda, right?”
“More or less. I think we have that in common, Carth.
Question is…do I want to be involved in your agenda any more than you want to
be involved in mine?”
He was about to reply when Gadon Theck stepped out of the
room to join them. “I just wanted to thank you two,” he said, glancing
sightlessly past their faces. “Oh…uh…I’m not interrupting anything…am I?”
Lal and Carth both turned, and at the same time, said,
“No.” Lal glanced back at Carth and lifted her chin. He merely arched an
eyebrow and nursed a crooked grin.
Gadon chuckled as he watched both of them. “Well, as I
said, the Hidden Beks are…in your debt. You’ve proven yourselves as friends,
and the Beks remember their friends. Our earlier agreement stands, of course.
And Carth, we’ll be willing to provide you whatever help we can against the Sith.
They threaten us all. They’ve proved that with the wholesale slaughter in
Undercity.”
Carth's eyebrows lifted in surprise. For a moment, he
didn’t know exactly what to say. “I…well, thanks…”
Gadon nodded and clapped Carth on the shoulder warmly. “Least
we can do. This is our fight too, it seems. No one down here believes the Sith
will be content to simply limit their atrocities to Undercity.”
“What about your race?” Carth asked.
“Well…there don’t seem to be any real options there,”
Gadon admitted with a frown. “We’ve got some good riders…but Selli was our only
great rider. She was the only one of us
who could possibly beat Brejik.”
“Brejik’s going to be riding?” Lal asked.
Gadon nodded. “You know I used to be nova on a swoop rig,
but since I lost my sight…well…”
“So, you’re withdrawing from the race?” Carth asked him.
Gadon shrugged. “Doesn’t seem to be much point in going
on with it. Selli’s already paid too steep a price. Problem is, we’ll still
have to wait until after the race to get Bastila.”
“Why, Gadon?” Lal asked. “You won’t be jeopardizing your
position in the race…so why not just go in and take her?”
“Retaliation, Lal,” he said. “We wouldn’t just be
crossing the Vulkars…which I don’t care about…we’d be crossing all the gangs.
They’d consider it a breech of honor. After the race is still our best shot.
Bastila will probably be sold to the highest bidder…and there will be the
confusion and excitement of the victory celebrations. It’ll provide enough of a
distraction that we’ll be able to get away clean. In theory.”
“I don’t know, Gadon,” Carth sighed, rubbing a hand
through his hair. “I appreciate your candor, but every moment we wait is
another moment the Sith have to step in and grab her. By now, I can’t imagine
this race is much of a secret, right?”
“Hold on a second, Carth,” Lal said, thinking predator
thoughts.
“Uh-oh,” Gadon murmured, watching Lal as she worked her
plan out.
“What’s uh-oh?” Carth
asked with a confused frown.
Gadon pointed at Lal's face. “See that look? That’s her I’m coming up with a way to kill you that you will never expect
look.”
“Right, right…” Carth grunted. “And this is a good thing
or a bad thing?”
Lal admonished them both with a glare. “Do stop talking
about me as if I’m not standing right here, please? Relax, Carth. It’s a bad thing. But only for Brejik. I believe I have a way to
allow your gang to participate in the race, provide a distraction and get
Bastila during the race.”
Gadon and Carth shared a worried look. “Okay,” Gadon
said, “I’m all ears.”
Lal smiled wickedly, placing her hands on her hips. “I’ll
be your racer, Gadon.”
*
Twenty years ago, gang warfare boiled through the streets
and corridors of LowCity. The gangs fought tooth and nail for territory rights,
and for a hand in the industry of crime. The wars bled over onto the streets,
killing civilians, destroying property. And finally, having taken the battle
beyond any realm of sanity, one gang detonated a hyperthermal bomb in sector
304. The bomb had been cobbled together in someone’s basement. It hadn’t been
hard to build, actually. Technology had effortlessly placed the most terrible
weapon known into the hands of street-lethal teenagers.
The blast had rocked the city-strata, from LowCity to
Upcity, and to Undercity far below. A wave of fire and kinetic energy had
rolled across a thirty kilometer area of LowCity, advancing at ten thousand
kilometers per hour. Ninety thousand humans and aliens reached a body
temperature of one million degrees in less than a second. Most of whom had
nothing to do with any gangs or any turf battle.
Now, in order to avoid the bloodshed, the retaliation,
the escalation, the LowCity gangs raced their swoops. They held their race in
the wasteland of twisted, molten durasteel, of blackened, shattered corridors
known as the Pit. The Pit was thirty square kilometers of nightmare. When the
bomb had detonated, it had pushed out a shockwave that wrenched apart corridors
and tunnels and dislodged mountains of jagged debris. The heat coursed through
less than a second afterwards, so intense that it caused durasteel to bend and
warp. It fused the debris and torn metal and shattered bones into a frantic
fever dream of death and madness. It was now an obscene wonderland scattered
with unnatural canyons of fused durasteel. It still burned with radiation,
causing the twisted walls and rugged channels to glow a livid, angry blue.
It was the perfect place for a race.
Wild eyed swoop jocks saw the deadly terrain as an
extreme challenge. It was a badge of honor to tear through the Pit in little
more than a repulsorlift turbine, control vanes and a seat. Only the elite
undertook the nightmare course. The radiation was scoffed at by the vets of the
run; in truth, it was dangerous to walk through, no doubt. But screaming
through at something under five hundred kilometers per hour, a rider wouldn’t
catch enough rads to provide a lethal dose. It was still dangerous, of course,
so every racer had to undergo a full set of myranthin shots; it kept the
radiation from settling into the body tissues.
Since the races had begun, the galactic net had taken an
interest. It was one of the most extreme courses in ten sectors. Often, riders
went on to compete in the professional circuits on Manaan, Devaron, Bimmisaari
and even Coruscant. Holovid remotes had been set-up in the Pit to cover each
leg and wild turn of the course.
Of course, it was dangerous. Aside from the unique
dangers posed by the terrain alone, no rules existed to moderate ambitious
competition. Many riders crashed and burned, broken
up and bloodied. And that was the reason for the vid cams. Blood equated
roughly into ratings. It was outlaw racing at its best.
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,”
Lal rubbed her arm where she had been inoculated against
radiation exposure. Welts had bulged beneath the skin, and her flesh now
carried a yellow stain like an old bruise. Gingerly, she tugged her suit sleeve
over the aching patch of skin and pulled the suit hood over her head.
“Try not to worry,
“Helmet,” Lal replied.
“Lal, in the three years you’ve been on Taris, have you
ever even ridden a swoop?”
Lal fastened the chin strap of her helmet and turned to
smile warmly at
“Why are you doing this? You could completely get killed!
Or worse! If you--”
“I don’t need to win,
*
Lal and
Such as it was.
She wasn’t doing this for them. Good as the Hidden Beks
may have been, she didn’t feel inclined to do this race just to give them an
edge on street crime.
She did a visual check on the rig hovering before her. It
literally was little more than a seat attached to a repulsorlift engine. The
basic frame was wrapped inside a sleek catamaran cowling; the control vanes
were sheathed in twin arrow-like protrusions that swept forward of the recessed
cockpit. The engine and thrusters bulged behind it, and hung naked beneath the
curved cowling at the rear. The seat sank down into the chassis, but only
partially. Her shoulders and face still were exposed. And there was no
windshield to deflect the roaring air. Her helmet would have to suffice. She
leaned over the top of the cowling and peered inside the cockpit; she was
pleased to see her blaster pistol and vibroblade neatly tucked in with the
control surfaces.
An Ithorian Bek stumped up to her, nodding his oddly
curved, hammer-headed skull at her. One of his mouths opened and his began
speaking to her in booming, heavily accented Huttese. He explained once more
that the racers maneuvered to the starting line in clusters of three. Swoop
positioning was based on trial runs performed two weeks ago. Selli had placed
well during the trial; Lal would be starting in the second cluster. Brejik was
in the first, but she reckoned she could catch up to him easily enough.
Lal nodded her understanding to the Ithorian and snapped
her face plate down. She smiled beneath the face plate at
She was ready.
She vaulted into the seat. It was little more than a
cushioned bar that she straddled. She pulled a crank and it cantilevered her
body forward, lowering her wind profile, and shoving her face close to the tiny
cluster of display panels huddled within the cockpit. Her hands reached out to
grasp the control rods; the handles swiveled freely in her fists; buttons
studded the handles, and with a flick of her thumbs she could brake or
accelerate. Her feet found the pedals that would shift gears. She reached down
and flicked the commlink relay. Static flickered in her ear, but cleared as she
switched to the secure channel Carth had reluctantly programmed for them to
use.
Lal twisted the handle on the right control rod and the
thrusters cut in, blistering the air below and behind the rig. She swung
laterally away from the technicians and then gusted forward slowly. She glanced
at
As the other rigs maneuvered into position around her,
Lal kicked the rig into neutral and goosed the throttle. The rig screamed
anxiously, and sent a humming harmonic vibrating along the pointed control
vanes.
To her right, the Kankar rider shouted incoherently at
her over the roar of their engines. Beneath his facemask, he leered at her. She
had no idea what the idiot was saying, but it was probably disparaging in some
manner. She wondered what tricks he was carrying onboard. Wondered if she’d
have to kill him.
She shut his yelling out as a set of lights flipped down
from the ceiling. Only the red light at the far left shone. But then, the amber
light in the middle beeped on. Lal twisted the throttle open with a roar. The
other two rigs did the same, filling the corridor with shrieking thunder. When
the green light beeped on, Lal kicked the rig back into gear and the world
before her disintegrated into a gray and brown blur.
The corridor before her leaped towards her. Her rig
screamed as she tore a burning channel through the air. The corridor curved out
in a long gentle turn, leading downwards towards the Pit. Lal caught a glimpse
of the Kankar rider’s rig gusting slightly ahead of her. He was glancing over
at her every few seconds, wagging his tongue at her.
Twit.
Lal leaned into the turn and downshifted as the throttle
redlined with a growl. She blasted out of the mouth of the tunnel with both
rigs in her cluster close behind. She paid them little mind as a jagged
mountain of molten durasteel loomed in her path. She leaned left and goosed the
thrusters, hopping in front of the RedBlade’s rig. Lal ghosted smoothly around
the knot of twisted girders and bounced over a hump in the blistered ground.
The RedBlade fell in line behind her, allowing her rig to zero out the wind
resistance. Smart kid. She glanced to her right to find the Kankar rider, and
gasped sharply as she saw his rig bank inward towards her own. He tried to dash
against one of her rear panels, to nudge her rig off balance. She matched his
speed, though, and let his rig clap against her side panels. Durasteel and
polymer ground together and shed a spray of sparks. He bounced away, trying to
get an angle on her.
What’d I ever do to you,
laser-brains? She wondered. If he did manage to get an angle on her in
a collision, he could send her rig hurtling into a spin that would slam her
against a wall. Lal was safe running side by side with him, but knew she had to
maneuver ahead.
The three of them zoomed into a narrow corridor, with
room only to run two abreast. The Kankar took the opportunity to muscle her rig
against the far wall. Lal gritted her teeth as she struggled with the controls,
trying to keep away from the wall as much as possible. But still, she grinded
against the wall, and sparks flashed in the dim light of the tunnel. Lal jammed
on the thrusters with her left foot and leaned towards the Kankar sharply. She
banged him against the wall and his velocity bled away rapidly. He fell behind
her rig, and Lal twisted the throttle open. With a scream, her rig zoomed
forward. The RedBlade stayed right on her tail, content to pace himself.
As they neared the mouth of the tunnel, the Kankar rushed
up beside her again, pushing his rig hard. But he was so focused on ramming her
that he didn’t notice how narrow the tunnel squeezed at the opening. Lal sucked
in a deep frantic breath and laid the throttle full. She slipped through the
opening an instant before the Kankar scraped into the wall. The impact crunched
the side panels of his rig and chewed into his lateral thrusters.
Desperately, he fought back to the left, but
overcompensated. He slammed into the opposite wall with a boom and a shower of
yellow fire. His control vanes clipped the rear of the RedBlade’s rig hard,
sending it into a flat spin.
As Lal lost both of them, she breathed a sigh of relief.
And then screamed as a monstrous heap of shattered metal rose up before her.
She hunched down into her shoulders and closed her eyes as she sliced through a
narrow opening in the middle of the heap. Vorpal outcroppings dashed against
her panels, gouging gleaming channels into the surface of her rig.
“Bloody hell,” she cried, leaning forward on the
throttle.
Her rig blazed forward into a wide corridor with a low
ceiling. It stretched off distantly, the end lost in a glowing blue haze of
radiation. Her heart began to hammer inside her chest, and she realized she was
passing into the first of six dangerously hot zones. Here, the floor had been
chewed to bits, and several large holes opened directly down to Undercity, far
below. Inertia would carry her over most gaps, but anything larger than twenty
feet would suck her straight down.
She also noticed that in several places, the corridor had
been severely warped, as if two great fists had grabbed hold of the corridor
and twisted in opposite directions. Wrinkles had been carved into the durasteel
walls, and radiation burned within them. Ahead of her, something bounced
against a wall and exploded in a crimson and black blossom of flame. Fire
coursed across her path, but she burned right through it, closing her eyes. As
she blistered forward, she glanced over her shoulder and saw the burning
wreckage of a swoop rig. The pilot, set afire, flailed madly and staggered
about.
A second later, he was just a bright dot falling away
behind her.
Before her, she could see the tail of another rig,
tearing swiftly along the wall of the corridor. She squinted in the dark,
trying to recognize the rig. But as she did so, she saw a flurry of bright
spears flying towards her. Blaster fire! Lal juked to the side, evading the
blaster bolts.
When the rigger had turned back to fire on her, he had
inadvertently relaxed his throttle. Lal ate the distance between them and reached
with one hand to her vibroblade. She thumbed the activation switch as the
rigger took aim once more. In a sudden flash of steel, Lal brought the humming
sword up and high over her head. She slashed downwards against his rig, just
clipping his left thruster. Electricity snapped and popped along the surface of
the thruster, and Lal felt an invisible hammer pound her sword arm. She managed
to keep a grip on the blade and drew it back in. She pushed the throttle
forward as the rig—Silver Vortex—lost lateral control. Lal eased past him as he
bounced from one wall, and then crashed into the opposite wall.
He exploded behind her.
She veered up on another fire; another rig downed. This
time Lal swung around the wreckage rather than pass through another burst of
flame. Her engine redlined with a desperate whine and she downshifted sharply.
And then, she saw a wall race towards her.
Panic grasped her thoughts. She yanked back on the
throttle, afraid she would crash. But as she cranked down her speed, she noticed
several large holes chewed into the wall before her. Which one?
She wondered. She had half a second to decide.
She shoved her rig through the hole closest to the curve
of the wall, stabbing into a narrow, rounded tunnel. She gasped when she saw
the tunnel was so tight that she had only inches to spare all around her rig.
And her heart stopped beating when she saw a single girder slicing through the
very center of the passageway. Her brain shut down as she aimed her blaster
over the hood of her rig. She squeezed off as many shots as she could and
closed her eyes.
The girder shattered as each blast carved a hunk out of
it. It scraped the undercarriage of her swoop, but Lal made it through. And she
blasted out of the end of the tunnel into a vast cistern. Gravity tugged her
rig downward, nose first, and she yanked backwards on the control rods. There
was no floor here, she realized, only a massive, terrible drop. He rig moaned
as the repulsorlifts searched for a surface to push up against. A cry of terror
tore free from Lal's throat as she felt the rear of the rig begin to angle too
far forward. The rods were as far back as she could yank them, however. She was
going to flip over.
Desperately, she stamped on the thruster pedal, jamming
it flush with the floor of her rig. She leaned backwards as far as she could.
Her swoop screamed and vibrated, but she brought the nose back up. Long seconds
passed and her engine floated at the redline the entire time.
When she finally saw the ground surge up towards her, she
dialed up the repulsor feedback as high as it could go. Her rig slapped against
the ground and Lal's chin bashed against one of her display monitors. Her
vision spun for a second before she gained her bearings and saw a ragged
channel before her. She swung her rig drunkenly through the opening, scraping
against the sides before finally adjusting her course.
Ahead of her, Lal could hear the whine of thrusters
bouncing against the walls of the curving tunnel. She threw caution out the
back of her rig and zoomed forward. With tiny jerks of her wrists, Lal teased
the rig along the curve of the tunnel and came in sight of the rig before her.
She could see red thorns painted against the glossy black cowling of the swoop.
Brejik.
Lal surged forward on a wave of hatred, and reached again
for her blaster. His rig was shaped like a ball, with naked control vanes
stabbing forth from it. Brejik sat inside the ball, where it was cut open. She
could see his head poke around the curve of the sphere; he wore no helmet, only
a crimson bandana whipping in the wind.
Time to die,
she thought grimly, aiming for his thrusters with her blaster. Out of the
corner of her eye, she saw a tiny smudge of black steel arc through the air
towards her. Desperation and fear guided her reflexes. She forgot the shot and
shoved her rig past the grenade just before it detonated. The explosion lifted
the rear of her rig against the ceiling of the tunnel.
Fire spilled over her as her swoop crashed back into the
floor of the tunnel.
Lal forced her rig forward, but felt something wet
trailing over her lips. Blood. She could also feel her ears filling with it as
well. Lal tried to shake the ringing from
them as she zoomed once more within sight of Brejik. Lal could see him glancing
back at her as she slid alongside him. He bashed into her and ground against
her side panels.
“Well look who it is!” Brejik roared, his voice a tinny
hiss above the combined screech of their engines. “Whore extraordinaire; Lal
Sideen! Racing for the Beks, I see! I guess Selli was too broken up to make it,
huh?”
“Bastard!” she snarled back, fumbling for her blaster.
She hauled it towards him and aimed at his face, but he slammed against her rig
sharply. The blaster fell from her hand and clattered back across the cowling
of her rig.
“Not very sporting, darling!” He chuckled. But one good
turn deserves another!” he yanked out a blaster pistol of his own and fired
point blank at her.
Desperately, Lal yawed away from him, and the blaster
missed her face. But his second shot tore into her and she screamed in agony.
Her vest deflected some of the blazing energy, but she glanced down to see a
scorched and ragged gouge carved into her shoulder. She nearly lost control of
the rig. Her entire arm went numb and pain hammered her thoughts. Dark spots
swam before her eyes and nausea splashed over her. Her throat locked up and a
vague part of her mind told her she was slipping dangerously close to shock.
By the time her vision cleared, she saw that her rig had
jetted out of the curved corridor into a yawning dark space littered with tall,
jagged columns rising out of the floor like metal stalagmites. By the grace of
some higher power, her swoop had slipped safely past several of these piles of
slagged metal. But one hurtled directly towards her now. With a gasp, she
jerked the controls and the rig rolled to the left of the tower. An explosion
glanced off the surface of the tower, and she saw Brejik still firing back at
her.
The columns of molten durasteel offered her some natural
cover, but it wouldn’t be long before he got in a lucky shot. Lal had to change
the odds.
She shoved the control rods to the right and slipped
directly behind Brejik’s swoop. He tried to lean out of his cockpit to fire on
her, but he couldn’t get a decent angle. His shots kept going wide. If only she
hadn’t lost her blaster, she would have a perfect shot. She nudged the rig
closer, inching up on his tail. He continued to peek back at her, desperate to
squeeze a shot off.
A dizzy curtain fell over Lal's thoughts, but she shook
her head to clear it. Gritting her teeth, she slipped to the right and dashed
forward, sliding up on Brejik’s flank. As soon as she did, he twisted in his
seat and fired down on her. Lal cursed as one of his shots sparked across her
right control vane. She slipped back in behind him.
Lal immediately tried to slip up on his left, but this
time, Brejik braked into a flat spin, and jammed on the emergency stabilizers
so that his spin only cut 180 degrees. Shifting furiously on the controls, he
reversed his thrusters and flew backwards, facing directly at Lal.
Brejik grinned broadly at her, prideful of his own skill.
He aimed his blaster directly at her and fired. He stitched a trail up the
front of her rig’s cowling, walking his shots towards her face. Lal banked
sharply, lifting the edge of her rig to shield against his blasts. His shots
sliced into her undercarriage, and her gauges went wild. Lal ignored her
display and throttled up beside Brejik’s rig.
He snarled at her as she pulled alongside, spraying white
smoke from the belly of her rig. Her eyes bulged as Brejik unleashed a new
weapon; a slim silver cylinder clutched in his fist. She recognized it deep in
her mind, but didn’t immediately register the name. He flicked a switch on the
cylinder, and a beam of golden light hissed into existence.
Lightsaber.
The weapon of a Jedi Knight. Not as random as a blaster.
It was an elegant device, one that did not belong in the hands of a coarse dog
like Brejik.
He lifted the weapon high above him, and she heard it
scream as it burned through the air. But Lal moved faster than Brejik. She
moved faster than anyone she knew.
Her sword flashed and hummed. It carved a shining silver
arc through the whipping wind and sliced downward into the control vanes of
Brejik’s swoop rig. Brejik lost his grasp on the lightsaber as his control
vanes fell away from his rig. He screamed as his swoop flipped end over end.
Desperately he yanked on his controls, but the mechanisms were utterly severed.
Lal watched as he spun in a mad spiral against a wall and exploded.
She tapped her commlink and said a single word, “Go.”
And then, red lights flashed across her displays.
Something popped and cracked inside the manifold of her rig, and as she
struggled with her controls, she wondered if the price might be too steep.
*
After the charges blew the door inward in a cloud of
acrid smoke, Carth and Zaalbar charged into the Race Control station, backed by
four of Gadon’s Beks, all dressed in stolen Sith armor. Inside, a number of
technicians coughed and hacked from the smoke. A brace of thick-necked security
types wrestled to unleash their blasters, but Carth cut them down. He scanned
the room and saw a bank of monitors, displaying images of fiery crashes in the
race. He knew that their attention had been consumed by Lal's efforts on the course,
her firefight with Brejik and several other swoop riggers. She was a
bloodthirsty woman, he realized, but he found himself hoping that it wasn’t her
rig on the screens burning down to slag.
The race comptrollers were taken completely by surprise,
as Lal had predicted. Also, as she had predicted, they were paralyzed with fear
when they saw Sith troopers storming in.
“You’ve got one chance to live!” Carth snarled at them.
“Give us the girl, or face the wrath of the Sith!” he aimed one of his blasters
at the nearest tech. “You! Where is she?”
There was a pause as the comptrollers flicked their eyes
back and forth between Carth and Zaalbar and the Sith flanking them with guns
drawn. In that moment, Carth feared the illusion would crumble, but the Wookiee
leaned forwards and released a thundering roar in the nearest comptroller’s
face.
“I…I…I…”
Carth dashed forward and grabbed the young man around the
collar. He shoved his blaster against his throat and hissed, “I won’t ask a
second time…”
“I’ll tell you!” a girl cried out. “Just don’t hurt us!”
Carth nodded at her. “Wise choice.” He glanced at Zaalbar
and the Sith. “Hold position here.”
One of Gadon’s boys had to stifle a laugh. But they all
nodded in a sloppy approximation of Sith discipline. Carth groaned inwardly.
This was going to have to go quickly, before the illusion shattered. Before
anyone realized his blaster had only been set on stun…
The girl led him into a back room, glancing nervously at
him. She keyed in a combination to unlock a heavy security door. It slid open,
revealing a chamber filled with various treasures collected as entry fees by
all of Taris’ gangs. Carth's gaze drifted past the stacks of stolen
platinumware, of custom-made slicer mastercode-cards. He saw only the woman
trapped in a glowing stasis field in the center of the room. Anger surged over
him when he saw that Bastila had been stripped of her Jedi robes; she wore only
her underclothes, like some slavegirl.
Carth aimed at the control panel near Bastila Shan’s feet
and fired.
“Bastila,” he whispered into her face, “come on. We’ve
got to go. We don’t have a lot of time…”
She moaned softly and her head lolled in his arms.
Frowning, Carth smacked her cheek. Her brow furrowed but she did not open her
eyes. He slapped her again, a bit harder, and this time, her eyes snapped open.
Her gaze rolled towards him and her body tensed.
“Do not touch me!” she cried, shoving at his hands in a
sudden panic.
“Bastila,” he said, struggling against her, “it’s me.
Carth. Captain Onasi. I’m here to rescue you!”
“Captain,” she grunted, glancing around. She fought to
regain her senses and nodded weakly, laying a hand upon his shoulder. “Of…of
c-course, Captain…where are we, again?”
“In a bad place, Commander Shan.” He helped her to her
feet, but she leaned heavily on his arm. “We’ve got to move. Do you need me to
carry you?”
“I…certainly not, Captain. I c-can manage on my own…”
He hustled her back towards the control room. Zaalbar saw
them and bellowed an impatient roar.
“I know,” Carth fired back. “We’re leaving.”
Bastila stiffened in his arms as she saw the Sith.
“Carth!”
“No…don’t…they’re friends…I’ll explain later. Right now,
time is a factor.”
Carth led them out of the control room amidst stunned
gazes of technicians, and slipped down a corridor. They ducked down a side
passage and dashed into the room where they’d made their entry. A young female
Bek held the position with a blaster rifle larger than she was. She grinned at
them and covered them as they all slipped into a cooling duct. Carth helped
Bastila into the duct and realized he had been holding his breath. Zaalbar
urged him forward with a bark, and Carth crawled inside the duct. When Zaalbar
struggled in behind him, Carth felt a grin on his lips.
They’d done it.
They were home free. But his smile soured and fell apart
as his thoughts drifted towards Lal once more.
*
Lal was one of them.
The Ithorian chief rig tech lowered his blunted skull and
rumbled in dismay. He shook his head as he spoke.
“You be quiet!” she screamed. “You don’t know what you’re
talking about!”
Gadon laid his hands upon
Tears burned in
Now that Lal was gone…
The announcers suddenly began chattering excitedly on the
vids.
“I’ll be damned,” Gadon hissed, his artificial eyes
clicking and whirring.
Lal pulled herself from the wreck and threw her helmet
off. Rescue techs grabbed her to hustle her away from the rig, but she shrugged
them off. She quickly reached back into her rig for something and then stumbled
away.
“Lal!”
“Of course I made it,
“I don’t believe it,” Gadon grinned at her, giving her a
kiss on her lips.
“Oh, hey Gadon,” Lal murmured. “Had to stop off to pick
s-something up. D-Did I win?”
The dream.
Bastila knew it was a dream;
she’d had it enough times. But she couldn’t escape the feel as her muscles
shuddered under the clash of lightsabers. Darth Revan drove her back, and
hurled her to the deck with a savage blow that jarred her golden lightsaber
from her hands.
Jana dashed in, blocking
Revan’s next strike with her own blade. Revan snarled in fury and kicked young
Jana in her face. As Jana stumbled back, Revan opened her belly with a cross
slash. Reeno screamed as his sister dropped to her knees, intestines spilling
across the deck. Revan whirled on him and thrust forth an open palm. Reeno was
blasted from his feet by an unseen gust of Force energy. He slammed hard
against the deck and lay still.
"Why do you resist,
Bastila?" Revan growled. "Fighting me is futile! Our destiny awaits
us! Join me!"
"Never!" Bastila
cried, sitting upright.
She glanced around, heart
pounding wildly. She lay in an unknown bed in a place she did not know. She
struggled to control her heartbeat with a breathing exercise, and closed her
eyes. When she opened them, she extended outward with her senses. A large
number of young men and women cavorted happily in rooms beyond hers. They were
at ease, relaxed; but excited at the same time. Some sort of party, she
suspected. Briefly, she wondered if she was still in the custody of those
violent thugs calling themselves the Black Vulkars.
But then, she sensed Carth
Onasi’s presence among them. He did not participate in the celebration, but sat
apart, his sobered thoughts dwelling on something…something that felt very
familiar…
Bastila threw the sheets from
her body and swung her bare legs over the edge of the bed. A glass of water
waited for her on a table. She drew it towards her with her will, and it zipped
into her hand. It scraped away the dryness caking her lips and throat. Bastila
drained the entire glass with a gasp and breathed in deeply.
She also noticed her
lightsaber sitting on the table as well. But the Vulkars’ leader, Brejik had
taken it. How had it arrived here?
Bastila stood and took her
lightsaber. It felt warm and comfortable in her grasp. Confidence surged
through her body, and she glanced around for some sort of clothing. Nothing
presented itself to her, however. Annoyance chewed at her thoughts as she
wrapped the sheet around her. It wouldn’t do for her to go trouncing about in
her underwear, after all.
With her weapon in hand, she
stepped out of the room and locked onto Carth's presence. In the corridor
outside her room, she very nearly bumped into a young Zabrak girl carrying a
bundle of dun colored clothes.
"Oh!" the girl cried
in surprise. "I didn’t know you were awake. Gadon told me to bring you
something to wear. I don’t know if this stuff’ll fit you, but it’s better than
running around in your panties, right?"
"Er…yes. Yes of
course." Bastila took the bundle of clothes and hoped they weren’t
anything like the positively scandalous outfit the girl wore. Bastila held the
long tabard across her body, examining it. It covered her modestly enough, she
supposed. Though it left her legs bare…"Er…excuse me, perhaps you could
tell me…exactly where am I?"
"Oh yeah," the girl
grinned. "You’re with the Beks. We totally rescued you from Brejik! You’re
safe with us. No worries."
"Rescued," Bastila
murmured sourly. "Brilliant. Um, fine then. Uh…could you…I’d like to speak
with Captain Onasi if you please."
"Who? Do you mean that
dreamboat Lal brought in? He’s a complete honey, even though he’s older than
dirt. No problem. I’ll go get him for you…"
"Wait!" Bastila
cried, feeling her blood run cold. "What did you say?"
"Carth," the girl
clarified. "He’s cute is all I was saying. Are you two,
like…y’know…together?"
"No, you said a
name…Lal?"
"Yeah. Lal Sideen. She’s
a friend."
"Oh. Oh. Nevermind
then." Bastila's mind whirled. It couldn’t be…could it? She supposed it
was a common enough name. But still, rather a strange coincidence. "I
mean… Carth, yes. I’d like to see him. If you could send him ‘round, I’d
appreciate it."
*
Carth knocked at Bastila's
door and heard her beckon him inside. He stepped in as the door slid open, and
saw her struggling into a pair of tall boots that came up past her thighs. He
smiled at her and propped his hip on a nearby table.
"You don’t know how glad
I am to see you, Bastila," he sighed.
"Captain Onasi," she
said sharply, reaching up to pin her loose hair up. "I would appreciate a
report on what has occurred. Obviously, I have been…indisposed. Ahem."
"Ah…right. Well, let’s
see. You recall anything about the Endar
Spire?"
She waved her hand in
annoyance. "Of course, Captain. My memory is intact."
"Right. Well, you got
captured by a gang of thugs called the Black Vulkars. I tried to fight them,
but they had me outnumbered. I got some assistance to rescue you, though. A
rival gang called the Hidden Beks. They’re essentially the good guys. They’re willing to help us hide
from the Sith. Speaking of, I’m pretty sure the Sith have brought the Leviathan into orbit. They’ve got a
planet-wide blockade in effect and have patrols scouring the streets for
you."
"I see. Did anyone else
from the Endar Spire survive,
Captain?"
Carth folded his arms across
his chest and shook his head gravely. "They started targeting the escape
pods. We’re the only ones who made it, Bastila."
Bastila's mouth fell open and
her eyes fluttered in disbelief for a few moments. She struggled to regain her
composure before Carth, but his words hammered into her. The only ones who made it…
"I…see," she
murmured softly, thinking about the Jedi she’d known on the Spire. Those sent
to help her; those who had become friends…Bastila forced herself to remember
her training. She could not allow this news to deter her from her mission.
"Indeed," she said,
struggling to keep her voice even and calm. "I estimate I’ve been out of
commission for roughly a week…Is the mission in jeopardy, Captain Onasi?"
He chuckled bitterly and shook
his head. "Yeah, Bastila. I’d say, at a
guess, mind you, yeah. It is. It hasn’t been officially compromised.
But I don’t see much chance for success. The Sith are crawling all over the
place. Even if we could complete this secret mission of yours, I don’t see how
we could escape."
"I see, Captain. I’d like
to remind you of protocol. Please refer to me as ‘Commander’ or ‘Commander
Shan’, if you would."
Carth rolled his eyes and
stood up straight. "Right. Listen, Commander,
it’s like this: our survival depends heavily on secrecy and stealth. If I go
around referring to you as commander
and if you go around referring to me as captain,
then very soon someone’s gonna be clued in to the fact we’re military. And
since neither of us looks like Sith, that means it’s gonna be assumed--"
She berated herself for being
stupid. Of course he was right. "I see your point, Captain. I mean…Carth. Of course you’re correct. I’m…still
a bit confused from my ordeal. Well then. Now that I’m in command, we’re going
to be doing things a bit differently. Our first priority, of course is
completing our mission. Have you been briefed about the specifics, Cap—er,
Carth?"
"Briefed? Not exactly,
Bastila. All the other Jedi perished aboard the Spire before they could brief
me, I’m afraid…"
"Er…of course. What I
meant was…oh nevermind. I’ll fill you in as best as I can. Our second priority
is to secure transport off this planet and back to Dantooine. You say the Sith
have placed an orbital blockade around Taris? That could present a
problem."
"Yeah. It might."
Bastila glanced sharply at him.
"Captain, forgive me, but I don’t think you’re treating this situation
with the seriousness it is due."
"Quite the
contrary," he sighed. "Look…I realize you’ve been given authority on
this mission, and I’m fine with that. However…I think you should consider the…very strong possibility that we may have
to cut our losses and make a run for it. The Sith know that you are here.
You’re too damned valuable to the Republic. If they get their hands on you, our
fight might as well be over. To be honest, I don’t even know why the Council
decided to send you on this mission."
"Of course, I welcome any
suggestions you wish to make, Carth. But this mission is of utmost importance
to the Jedi Council. And to the Republic."
"Alright, Bastila. I’m
all ears."
"Very good. First of all,
what can you tell me about this ‘Lal’ individual?"
"Lal Sideen. Well, first
of all; if you ever have to go into a fight against a Rancor, she’s the one
person in the galaxy you want to have with you. Second of all; she looks damned
nice in a skirt…"
*
Lal had been awake for some
time now, but didn’t have the energy to actually sit up. Besides which,
For someone who never stuck
her neck out for others, Lal was racking up a respectable amount of injuries.
But perhaps now, all that
nonsense was over and done with. Ostensibly, Carth had his Bastila back, and
they could go off and quite merrily perform whatever damn fool quest they’d
come to Taris to do. The Vulkars were no longer a threat, and Brejik had paid
with his life for what he had done to Selli. Now, all she really had to do was
figure a way out of this mess with Davik.
She hated the thought that he
wanted her dead. After all she had done to help him, she could scarcely believe
it. But Canderous had no reason to lie to her. Did he? That was not the
Mandalorian’s way. She supposed he could have been deceiving her in some
manner; trying to be an ally so she’d lower her guard when the time came to
kill her. But that seemed overly elaborate for him. That was more Lal's style
instead of Ordo’s. She didn’t know if she bought his whole call to glory bit.
But the man knew a surprising
amount of information about Lal's side operation. And of course, he had been
completely right. While she had no intention of interfering with Davik’s comfy
little set-up on Taris, Lal was well and truly tired of serving others. Davik
had a good set-up with the Exchange; he was more than content to be a member of
their Old Boy Network. Lal craved independence, though. And she figured she had
the guts to do it.
She had a number of people
loyal to her here on Taris, and a few scattered on a handful of planets across
the Rim. And she had business prospects; men who confused fiscal sense with
their desire for her. Lal figured that, given enough time, she could carve out
a nice little living for herself on some world, maybe Tatooine or some place
similar. And from there, the sky was the limit.
But to do this, to escape
Taris’s nightmares, she had to get off the planet. She had to get away from
Davik. However, with the Sith fleet hanging over her head, she didn’t see how
that was exactly possible. Maybe she would have another chat with Canderous.
Maybe he had some thoughts on the matter.
The door to her room hissed
open and Zaalbar trundled in. he cradled a steaming bowl in his paw; probably
soup. Smelled good. In his other paw, he carried a glass of water. He grunted
his greetings at her and she smiled. He sat the bowl and glass down on a table
beside her bed. He glanced down at
Lal nodded her head. "I
know. Yeah, you were right. But don’t give me a hard time about it, hmm?"
He told her to eat her soup.
"Giving orders, now, are
we?" she chuckled, reaching for the bowl. She had to sit up, though and
"Wuzzat?"
Lal took a sip of her soup and
nodded. "Not bad. No, don’t tell me what’s in it. I don’t want to know.
But Zaalbar, could you be a fuzzy dear and get me a Tarisian Ale? And some
meelee sauce?"
He shook his shaggy head.
"What, is it
dinnertime?"
"You haven’t eaten
anything,
"Nah…I guess I fell
asleep. Duh. I just wanted to be here if you needed anything…"
"
"Nevermind," Lal
said. She handed
"No, I completely need
something solid, Lal…maybe a salad…"
"Sounds good to me,"
Lal said. "Except for the salad part. Hey, since you’re all uninjured and
healthy, why don’t you pop ‘round Lien Lumb’s for some Lan oodah?"
Zaalbar barked an admonition
and shook his head defiantly. He pointed a claw at Lal and chewed out a string
of grunts. Lal sighed and sat back as
"I don’t see why a
blaster wound should keep me from eating anything spicy," Lal told him.
Zaalbar growled out an further
bit of explanation and lowered his eyes.
Lal frowned at his words.
"Lien’s been arrested? Those damned Sith! What, do they believe just
because he’s an alien that he’s a Republic sympathizer? Damn it!"
Just then, there was a knock
at the door. Carth poked his head in tentatively. "Did I come at a bad
time?"
"Technically," Lal
told him.
"Okay. I’ll come back
later…"
"No, Carth," Lal
sighed. "That’s not what I meant…come on in. Everyone else has." Lal
pulled her sheets up close to her chest and leaned back against the headboard
of the bed.
Carth sat down on the edge of
the bed and smiled down at Lal. "Anybody ever tell you you’re
amazing?"
"Ummm, yes. But no one
whose opinion mattered to me."
"And my opinion finally
matters to you, then?" he chuckled.
"I wouldn’t go so far as
that," she grinned back.
"I see. And I seem to
recall a promise to negotiate for a kiss…"
"I don’t recall any such
bargain," she shrugged innocently. "Besides which, not in front of
the Wookiee."
Zaalbar howled out a chuckle
and shook his head.
"It’s called flirting, Mission," Lal said.
"Oh I know all about flirting,"
Carth smiled at the Twi’lek.
"Don’t worry, Mission. I’m sure you’ll find some nice Twi’lek guy out
there who will be more than willing to worship you."
"Worship,"
Lal grinned and watched them
banter and joke for a few minutes. It felt comfortable. It felt good to have
friends, she decided. Even something…something rather more in Carth Onasi. In
another time and place, she was sure they’d be doing more than the occasional
flirting back and forth.
"So Carth," she
finally said, "How is your friend doing?"
Carth's smile faded and he ran
a hand through his hair. "Fine. She’s up and around. Actually, she wants
to meet you."
"Meet me? What for?"
Carth shrugged his shoulders.
"She wouldn’t say." Lal’s smile disappeared, and she realized Carth
was lying to her. She didn’t know how she knew; perhaps she had simply learned
to read his face when he spoke. She was good at that. Regardless, he was
holding something back.
"Carth," she said
softly, touching his arm. "What is it?"
"Nothing," he
continued to lie. "Bastila just wants to meet you is all. She wanted me to
ask if it was alright for her to stop in."
Lal frowned and glanced away.
Now that she thought about it, she was more than a little curious about this
Bastila woman. "You know what? I think I’ll go see her. I feel like I’ve been asleep for a
bloody week. Of course…I need my clothes…"
"Oh yeah,"
"How wonderful," Lal
groaned. "So I have nothing to wear but my own kindness?"
"Well,"
"No, that’s a bad
idea," Lal sighed. "Especially with the Sith arresting aliens.
Besides, Davik’s probably got someone watching my apartment. He’d have you
picked up, in all likelihood."
"I’m sure the Beks have
something you can wear," Carth told her. "Of course, I’m curious to
see about that ‘kindness’ outfit you mentioned."
"You and every male on
Taris," Lal said.
*
The only thing that managed to
actually fit Lal's curves happened to be a skirt composed of Zeltronian
sensor-mesh. It clung tightly to her, but it continually shifted to accommodate
her every movement. It wasn’t the most modest of outfits, having been designed
for a Criblez courtesan. But it was easily as comfortable as her Slipsuit.
She knocked on Bastila's door
and heard the woman bid her to come in. The door slid open and Lal stepped in.
Bastila was performing some sort of slow moving combat form. Lal was familiar
with this sort of thing. This form appeared to be a more meditative style. But
she easily recognized the movements as lethal.
Bastila finished her form and
released a deep breath. She turned to regard Lal curiously. Lal felt a cool
tingle trickle down her spine as the young woman watched her. There was
something about her eyes, the smooth cut of her face. It reminded Lal of
something…or someone. But she couldn’t quite place it.
"You are…Lal Sideen?" Bastila asked. She placed a
strange inflection on Lal's name. As if she were testing the sound of it out.
"And you’re Carth's
friend. Bastila, right?"
"I am," she replied,
continuing to stare at Lal. "Bastila Shan. I…I’m told…well, Carth told
me…that I have you to thank for my lightsaber."
Lal's gaze flicked to the
cylinder on the table beside the bed. A memory of the weapon flashing in
Brejik’s fist burned across her vision for a moment. "Yes…I figured…I
figured it would be of some use to a Jedi Knight."
Bastila smiled tightly and
nodded. She cocked her head thoughtfully at Lal, and then took up her
lightsaber. "Are you familiar with the device?" she asked, handing it
over to Lal.
Lal shook her head, but took
it anyway. She thumbed the activation switch, and a golden shaft of energy
hissed forth. It hummed and sang in her hand, shedding yellow light across the
room. Lal noticed a second switch further down the cylinder and activated that
as well. A second blade snapped out from the opposite end, surprising Lal.
"I’ve…seen them before,
of course," Lal explained. "Never seen one with two blades. Isn’t
that rather a bit of overkill?" She closed down both blades and handed the
weapon back to Bastila.
Bastila accepted the weapon
and hooked it to her belt. "Not overkill. A Jedi does not carry weapons
for their innate destructive potential. The lightsaber is a tool of defense.
Not offense."
Lal chuckled. "Best
defense is a good offense, though isn’t it?"
Bastila arched an eyebrow and
sat down on her bed. "I’m told that you’re rather an influential personage
on Taris; that you work for a…a gangster."
"You could say
that," Lal nodded. "Or you could also say I’m an assassin and
cutthroat cold-blooded witch."
"Ah. Fulfilling work is
it?"
"Has its perks. Never a
dull moment. And being a Jedi…is that an exciting job?"
"A Jedi does not crave
excitement. And it’s somewhat more of a calling
than a job."
Lal nodded silently and folded
her arms across her breasts. "Sounds like great fun. So you wanted to
talk. Did you simply want to compare careers? Or was there another
reason?"
"To be honest, Miss
Sideen, I wanted very much to thank you for your…efforts…your…contribution to
my, er…rescue. I understand this was done at great personal risk. I’m very
grateful, of course. And…I wanted to meet you. I’m glad Carth was able to
enlist your assistance. Carth is a capable man; a legendary soldier. But I
fear, without your help, I’d still be in a stasis tube ready to be auctioned
off to the highest bidder."
"Carth is a good
man," Lal replied. "Good to have at your back in a fight."
"Oh, no argument there.
But he is not a Jedi."
"Neither am I."
A strange little smile passed
briefly across Bastila's lips. "No. I don’t suppose that you are."
"Bastila, I don’t mean to
be rude," Lal sighed, "but is there a point to this?"
"I believe so. How long
have you been here on Taris, Lal? About three years?"
"I…yes. That’s
right…"
"And," Bastila
continued, "you have no memory of your life before that."
"I…what the bloody hell…?
How did you know that?"
"Nothing sinister, I
assure you. I am able to…sense certain things. To tell what a person is feeling
or thinking. To sense if a person is lying or telling the truth."
"So you read minds,"
Lal growled. "Cute trick. A word to the wise; stay out of my head."
"Have you never
questioned your life beyond Taris? What it might have been like? What you might
have been?"
"Alright, listen,"
Lal snapped, "I did not come here to be the subject of some sort
of…analysis. I trust you’ve satisfied your curiosity."
"Please don’t go,"
Bastila called as Lal turned to leave. "I don’t mean to insult you,
Lal."
"I’m not insulted,"
Lal told her. "What I am is busy. So if you’ll excuse me…"
"I need your help,
Lal," Bastila said, rising to her feet. "Carth and I need your
help."
"Don’t you think I’ve
helped enough?"
"More than either of us
had any right to expect," Bastila admitted. "But in this, I believe
our goals cross paths with your own. Lal, the Sith will tear this planet apart
to get what they’re looking for."
"So I’ve noticed already.
I might add that they’re looking for you."
Bastila lowered her eyes and
nodded. "I cannot deny that. But should the Sith capture me, it will lead
them to…to another. I cannot allow that to happen."
"Right…so, how do I come
into this problem of yours?"
"Well, we require
transportation off-world. To get past the blockade. I can sense that you too
are in need of transport. That to stay here much longer would be dangerous for
you."
Lal thought about denying it.
But she knew that this girl could read her thoughts as easily as a datapad.
"Didn’t I warn you about doing that?"
"It’s rather difficult to
avoid when you’re broadcasting your feelings like a beacon, Lal. It’s not
intentional. It’s akin to standing naked in the middle of the street and then
getting upset when someone glances at your body. I could teach
you…some…techniques to guard your thoughts."
"I’ll pass. Listen, this
blockade has my hands tied. Assuming for a moment you have any insight into my
motivations and plans…I don’t have a ship that can make it past a Sith
blockade. I have off-world contacts, but they’d probably get blasted out of the
sky before they came within an AU of Taris."
Bastila nodded in thought.
"Have you no other options at your disposal, then?"
"I didn’t say that. But
even if I do, why would I want to bring you and Carth along? Granted, I may
like Carth well enough, but he’s been nothing but trouble. And my suspicion is
that you’re twice the trouble he is. And I’ve got better things to do than get
killed."
"You may not believe in
the importance of our fight, Lal," Bastila said, "but sooner or
later, you will be forced to take
a side. It is the way of things. In times like these, we don’t always have the
luxury to walk the middle road."
"Please. Spare me the
diatribe. On Taris, there are no roads but the middle ones. Right and wrong
lose meaning here. And no matter who wins your war, things will be the same
here. Why should I care who sits on some throne on Coruscant?"
"Amazing. You have within
you the power to change things, Lal, and yet, you fail to recognize it. Does
not even an evil man prefer to have good neighbors over evil neighbors?"
"Alright. It was nice
meeting you, Bastila," Lal sighed, heading for the door. "I’d love to
stay and chat with you…actually, no, I wouldn’t. If you’ll excuse me…"
*
"So you finally decided
to talk to me," Canderous said between bites of food. "I knew you
would."
Lal glanced at his leathery
face and sighed. Then she returned her gaze to the plate of food before him. It
was piled with dark rubbery chunks of meat which smelled like a dank pond. He
speared each piece of meat hungrily with his fork and shoved it down his
throat. He followed that rather sloppily with a wash of dark Mandalorian beer.
And tossed out a belch every so often, mainly for effect.
"I take it talking with
your mouth full is rather popular on Mandalore, hmm?" Lal pointed out, a
pained frown wrinkling her brow. She leaned forward and took a whiff of his
food. Her nose crinkled up at the sharp reek. "Eww. What is that you’re shoveling down your
throat?"
Canderous chuckled and wiped
his sleeve across his mouth. He pointed with his fork to the squat Nautolan
standing behind the bar, taking orders from customers. "See that chap
there? He runs the place. For enough cred, he’ll fry up a baby Nautolan for
you. It’s considered a delicacy."
Lal tried not to throw up at
that. "Y-you mean to tell me…Canderous…you’re eating a baby
Nautolan?"
He shrugged. "It’s an
acquired taste, I admit…you should try some. It’s really quite delicious…"
Lal covered her mouth and stared
at the man in horror. "Canderous…th-that’s…"
"Eh," he grinned
widely at her distress. "Actually it’s just shellfish, Lal. Heh. You know,
you almost turned as green as that Nautolan over there. Heh."
Lal closed her eyes and shook
her head. "So, that was what passes for a joke among Mandalorians? Very
colorful, Canderous."
"Women across the galaxy
are gullible." He tossed back another gulp from the beer bottle at his
right and leaned back to stare at Lal. "Clothes. Heh. That’s a different
look for you."
Lal sighed and rolled her
eyes. "You’re never going to let that go, are you?"
"Well, it’s our little
secret, of course. But I see no reason not to torture you endlessly about
it."
"Well," she growled
ruefully, "aren’t you just in a pleasant mood."
"Indeed. My belly is
full. Things are looking up. And the great Lal Sideen has finally seen the
wisdom of my words."
"Wisdom," she
grunted dubiously. "Right." She set a tiny round object onto the
table between them. Several red lights flickered on the surface of the little
globe.
"White sound
generator," Canderous noted, glancing at the object. "Very clever of
you. And if I had any bugs or transmitters set up within thirty feet or so, it
would be effective. But I do not."
"Can never be too
careful."
"True."
Lal watched his face and sat
back in her chair. She crossed her legs and narrowed her eyes into slits.
"So, you wish to work for me."
"Quite."
"Mmm-hmm. So, I can match
your current retainer right now. I can double it in perhaps a month, maybe two.
But right now, I can’t pay you any more than Davik can. Convince me why I
should believe you’re ready to come on board."
"Money serves a
purpose," he told her. "But only a very gross one. It buys me food,
and a roof to put over my head. And little more than that. I have, over my
lifetime, acquired a substantial amount of money. More so than anyone suspects
because I live simply. Plainly. Simply put, Lal, neither your money nor Davik’s
money is the bait upon which I will be hooked."
"Okay. Fine by me. So what
do you think I can provide you that Davik cannot?"
He drained his beer and waved
for the waiter to bring him another. "It’s already become well known that
you raced for the Beks. Your fight with Brejik is still being shown on the
holo-vids. Glorious fight, Lal. Glorious. That is what I seek. To fight and to
fight well. It may seem…bloodthirsty
to you. Since you are not of the Blood of Mandalore, I doubt I could explain it
to you better than I already have."
"Do try," she told
him.
"Lal…we Mandalorians were
born and bred to be superior in every way to other humans. We were born so from
necessity. We fought and bled and killed to build one of the greatest empires
ever known. Once, our influence spread across entire sectors. It was a constant
challenge for my kind; to build the empire and to protect its borders. We are
not a solitary people, Lal. Every man and woman and child is valued. We knew
the importance of community. Everyone had a role to play. And so, when we
fought enemies who threatened us, that community
was always foremost in every warrior’s thoughts. If I killed a man, it was
because I knew that that man posed a threat to my brother. Or my sister. Or my
son…or daughter…No Mandalorian
ever fought without these thoughts driving him to victory. For the glory of the
empire, and the honor of all.
"But that has
changed," he went on, lighting a hand rolled Paagh stick and puffing on
it. "Now, we are scattered to the solar winds. We have no glories, and our
honor is forgotten."
"I…suppose I can…understand
that…but I will not lie to you; honor…I have no honor, Canderous. Not the sort
of honor you seek."
He inhaled a gout of smoke and
released it through his nose. "Heh. Untrue, Lal Sideen. In a world of
cutthroats and scum, you are the most honorable person I’ve met. To live
honorably…to kill honorably…it is
a challenge. It alone is an end to itself. I have watched you over the years. I
have seen this to be so. Do not insult me by denying it. There is a…a greatness
to you. To your actions. Something I have not felt since…well. Certainly not
for a long time. I do not know what your ultimate destiny is, Lal Sideen. I
know it will be great, however. And I know that fighting at your side will
be…worthy of song…"
Lal nodded slowly, wondering
exactly how to respond to that. She was pretty sure that Canderous Ordo was a
madman. All this talk of destinies and glory was beyond her. She didn’t know
how to sound competent in such a discussion. Nor was she terribly interested in
learning. But Canderous seemed fairly honest.
It may have been a mistake for
her to think like that, but she was running out of options.
"Alright,
Canderous," she said. "We’ll try this out. I’m in charge. You do what
I say. If you have a problem taking orders from a woman, let’s hear it now,
because I won’t tolerate any dissention down the line."
"I have no problems
following a woman’s commands…as long as that woman is you."
"Canderous…you make it
sound so dirty…"
He threw his head back and
laughed. For a brief moment, when he threw out a deep belly laugh like that, he
sounded like any normal person. But then, she recalled his talk of
entrail-dancing, and she pushed that thought right out of her head. She waited
for his laughter to die down before she went on.
"First order of business,
Canderous: we need a way to get off the planet."
"Logical," he
agreed, downing a gulp of beer. "Of course, Davik has been thinking much
along the same lines. I reckon he’s decided that working with the Sith would ultimately be
futile."
"I figured as much.
Davik’s got an entire fleet grounded right now because of the blockade. It
won’t be long before he starts losing distributors."
Canderous smiled wickedly.
"And that would set up a perfect opportunity for someone who was ready to
take advantage of Davik’s loss, hmm?"
"I don’t know anything
about that…" she said, glancing away. "Davik is in a sticky position
because he has a number of ships he needs to worry about; the same plan
probably wouldn’t work for each vessel. If he was willing to sacrifice one or two
ships so that the rest could get away in the confusion, that would be
different. But he can’t afford to. One ship would actually be easier to slip
past the blockade."
"Perhaps. A fast ship.
But there’s a problem with that as well, Lal. The Sith are doing something I
haven’t seen since the war. Normally, when they blockade a planet, they simply
move in a number of heavy cruisers and train their turbolaser batteries on
anything that moves. But the Sith have deployed half a dozen automated orbital
batteries. They’re called Eradicator Batteries. There are no crews, no
coordinations with the fleet. You don’t have a fire control officer taking the
time to gain fire permission from his commander. These beauties simply open
fire on anything not broadcasting a code sequence. And these Eradicators can
track, acquire and lock-on to a target a thousand times quicker than a capital
gun-crew can. The Jedi warriors, Malak and his master, Revan used these devices
almost exclusively at the end of the final skirmish. Since it’s believed Malak
is in command of the Sith now, he’s probably the one who fielded the
Eradicators."
"Canderous, how do you
know about this? As far as I understood, there was a planet-wide information
black-out about the specifics of the Sith forces."
"In ages past, the
Mandalorians had favorable dealings with the Sith. There are still those among
the Sith who remember those alliances. Which leads me to my next point: I know
a man at the Sith base. Anticipating your need to get off the planet, I convinced
him to make a copy of the code. He was going to deliver it to me, but
unfortunately, he got himself beheaded. He was able to hide the code copy in a
lower security buffer in the Sith mainframe. It does us no good, of course,
unless we can get to it."
Lal folded her arms across her
breasts. "I think I might know a way to get in."
"How’s that?"
Lal glanced up at him and
scowled. She still didn’t trust him. "You let me worry about that. But
even if we get the codes, there’s still the problem of not having a ship. It
needs to be fast. Faster than anything the Sith have got. Even if we defeat
these Eradicator things, the fleet can still get a visual on us."
"Fast ship, you
say?" Canderous mused, watching her face closely. "I believe I know
where you are going with this. You have a devious mind, Lal Sideen. But that
will be a challenge within itself. To steal the flagship of Davik Kang’s
smuggler fleet. No small task."
"I have some thoughts on
the matter."
"Oh?"
She nodded. "I was
thinking of asking nicely."
"Heh. The ship is locked
down when not in use. He has moved the Ebon
Hawk to the hangar in his estate. Getting in will be
difficult."
"No, it actually
won’t," she told him. "Getting in will be as simple as sin. Getting
back out will be the trick."
*
"Kee wa keen
cuucca-Cheen!" Janice Nal cried happily when Lal stepped into her
workshop.
"Janice," Lal
smiled. "You remember Zaalbar?"
The Wookiee rumbled a greeting
and Janice nodded. The Twi’lek flipped her lekku back over her shoulders rose
from where she had crouched over the open chassis of an astromech droid. She
tossed her hydrospanner into a toolbox and wiped her greasy hands on her pants
legs.
Lal pretended to be interested
in the rows of deactivated droids Janice sold out of her shop. Zaalbar gaped
like a kid in a toy store, however. He drifted over to a broad cargo-lifter
droid, and ran his claws over the droid’s inert lifting arm.
"Nee wanna-wanga?"
Janice asked Lal as she perused a tiny messenger droid.
Lal turned to face Janice.
"Is he ready?"
Janice smiled and jerked her
thumb towards the rear of her shop. She led Lal to the back and through a
doorway into her storeroom. Janice continued chattering away in enthusiastic
Huttese as she guided Lal through aisles of droid components. Six months ago,
after coming into a bit of extra money, Lal had commissioned Janice to build
her a custom droid, almost from scratch. It had been an exciting prospect for
Janice who was a savant with droid systems and AI.
Janice gestured to a table
which held a black metal frame. Locked within the frame rested the droid. It
had no legs to speak of, and was shaped roughly like an egg laid flat. As they
came near, the wide visual sensor plate on the droid’s "head"
swiveled up to watch them. Beside the wide blue sensor were three tiny red vid
recorders.
"He’s…on-line?" Lal
asked. Janice nodded. She reached out to unlock the frame and the droid slowly
floated up into the air. It rose up to Lal's height and unfolded eight spindly
arms from the bottom. She glanced down and noted the various grasper claws,
micro-welders, and mini-actuators hanging from the slender limbs. The droid
reached up an actuator and used the delicate fingers to examine a curl of Lal's
hair, hanging over her shoulder.
"Hey!" she said,
pulling away from the curious droid. It snatched the probing fingers back and
released a string of high pitched beeps and whistles. Atop its back a pair of
flat repulsorlifts mini-drives flicked out almost like wings. It shot back away
from her and zipped around to hide behind Janice. Lal rolled her eyes. "Oh
he’s bloody shy, is he?"
Janice shrugged. "Nee
nanna chutto." She reached down to the table and grabbed a palm-top
computer. She tapped a few commands onto the keypad and the droid zipped back
out from behind her. It’s large blue "eye" stared blankly at Lal
while Janice continued to enter commands. With each command she entered, the
little droid emitted a beep.
When she was done, Janice
informed Lal that the droid was now programmed to recognize Lal as its user. It
drifted back towards Lal and began examining her hair once more.
"Um…" Lal frowned,
glancing around at the droid as it floated behind her. "Is there any way
to make him stop doing that?"
Janice chuckled and patted Lal
on the shoulder. She pressed the palm-top into Lal's hand and explained that if
she wanted to change any program settings, she could use the module to do so.
Lal nodded. "Does he have
a name?"
"Ah…bo
Ay-vay-ood-oia," Janice said. Then in very careful and slow basic she
said, "Arakyd-Vie-purrr-Ate.
Mmm…mod-ee-fied."
"AyVee-Eight," Lal
mused. "Cute, Janice. Corny, but cute. Alright. Here you go." She
handed Janice a two-K credit-spike. That brought the total she’d dropped on her
new droid to six thousand credits in all. "You’d better be worth it, my
little friend."
The droid whistled confidently
and floated close to her head as she walked out into the shop.
"Zaalbar, stop playing
with that droid," Lal said. The Wookiee jumped away from the cargo-droid
he’d been inspecting and clasped his paws innocently behind his back. AyVee
caught sight of the huge Wookiee and screeched in alarm. He dodged behind Lal
while Zaalbar pressed his paws against his ears and roared. "Oh, knock it
off, you two!"
Zaalbar pointed a claw at the
droid and fired off a warning bark. AyVee gained a little bit of confidence and
whistled and hooted at the Wookiee over Lal's shoulder. AyVee rather rapidly
determined that his high-pitched whistles sliced right into the Wookiee’s
sensitive ears.
"Oh bloody hell,"
Lal groaned. "You two stop it this minute!" she yelled. Both Zaalbar
and AyVee fell reluctantly silent, glaring at each other. Lal glared furiously
at both of them. "I cannot believe this," she hissed, aiming a finger
at AyVee. "I’m not even out of the shop with you, and you’re acting
up!"
AyVee hummed apologetically
and drifted low, sinking beneath Lal's knee. Zaalbar grunted in satisfaction
and folded his arms across his massive chest.
"And you!" Lal
whirled her fury on the Wookiee. "You should know better! Now stop acting
like children. Let’s go."
Lal stormed out of the shop
while Zaalbar and AyVee fell in behind her. Zaalbar turned and bared his teeth
to the little droid. AyVee rolled his scanner away in irritation.
*
The Sith had occupied a
cluster of buildings in UpCity’s docking sector. Before their arrival, ships
blistered into the atmosphere day in and day out to touch down on platforms
precariously suspended over the soaring urban canyons far below. The only ships
that flew now were Sith snub fighters and a few transports commandeered to
ferry supplies and personnel to and from the surface.
The Sith base had been built
in less than two days, relying upon the Sith defense philosophy of the mobile
fortress. When Sith troopers put down on a planet, they brought with them
modular components for their strongholds; security walls that could be mounted
against existing structures to make them secure; autoblasters to lay down
killing fields; sentry check points.
They’d take what had been a
bustling warehouse and turned it into a citadel almost overnight. Now, troopers
patrolled the docking bays, and posted guards along the bridge that connected
the Docks to the main
Heavily carapaced Sith
speeders prowled the city streets beyond the
But as secure as the Sith had
made their ersatz stronghold, it was still a warehouse facility in a docking
complex nearly as large as a city. There were many entrances, and pathways
winding in. To deal with this, the Sith had unleashed hundreds of patrol droids
to crawl the walkways and guard the doors, like gleaming white metal spiders
hunting their next meal.
They also put a guard station
at the LowCity entrance; no tank could fit in those corridors, but they did set
up gun emplacements and checkpoints. A covered walkway led to the Dock
entrance, and through the long, narrow windows of the passage, several docking
platforms could be seen glinting in the orange sky.
The Sith manning the entrance
did not see the tiny Arakyd surveillance droid hovering in passive scan mode
above them. One of its three vid recorders glowed a dim red, capturing the
movements of the Sith troops and relaying them back to a hand-held, palm-top
computer module.
Soon, a trio of troops in
bright silver armor marched up to the first checkpoint at the far end of the
walkway. The two taller soldiers held heavy blaster rifles on a pair of
prisoners; a towering Wookiee and a woman in a dun-colored tabard. The shorter
soldier stepped up to the guard manning the checkpoint and jerked a thumb back
at the prisoners.
"We caught these two on
patrol, she said, her voice turned into a metallic growl by her helmet’s
respiratory filter. "We think the female may be the one Lord Malak is
after."
The guard nodded and waved
them through the post. As they stepped onto the walkway, two massive blaster
cannons swiveled to cover them, the gunnery crew staring impassively at them.
"Hold it," an officer
in gray and black ordered, walking briskly from the entrance. He stopped before
the three soldiers and stared curiously at their prisoners. "I haven’t
heard any reports of prisoners being taken. What unit are you with?"
The female soldier stiffened
her posture and stared straight ahead. "Fourth Ground Assault mechanized,
Sir!" she replied smartly.
"Fourth Ground is in Zeta
Sector, soldier," the officer growled back. "What are you doing in
Beta?"
"Sir, Fourth Ground AM
was ambushed by some local gang members. We went in pursuit. We got separated
and found these two setting explosives at one of the forward checkpoints."
"Ambush?" the
officer frowned doubtfully. "Explosives? Why haven’t I heard about any of
this?"
"Oh you’ll be hearing
about it, sir. Right about now!"
Just then, one of the docking
platforms visible beyond the window exploded in a sphere of angry red flame. It
snapped off from the mooring arm suspending it above the city and swung
downward into empty space. All attention snapped towards the explosion.
Except for the three soldiers.
The female soldier tossed a
grenade at each of the cannon emplacements, and she threw herself flat on the
ground. Both guns erupted with a thundering crack,
and the crews of each gun screamed as their bodies flipped limply into the air.
Behind the female soldier, the other two soldiers opened fire on the rest of
the troopers. Armored bodies collapsed as blaster bolts sizzled through their
chests and faces.
The female rolled over her
shoulder and came up in a crouch with two blasters in hand. She fired on the
two guards at the door, burning black holes into their helmet faceplates. The
officer whirled on her in shock and anger, hauling his pistol from the holster
on his belt. The Wookiee snarled savagely, and grabbed the man around his
throat. His neck popped loudly and he fell limp in the Wookiee’s grasp.
The tiny surveillance droid
swooped down towards the door even as the female soldier called out, "Now
AyVee!"
It hovered in front of the
heavy locking mechanism and an interface rod flipped down from its cluster of
spindly, spidery arms. The rod sank into an interface port and began to whir
and click. Two of the soldiers ran up to the door beside the droid while the
Wookiee grabbed up a fallen rifle. The woman prisoner reached under her tabard
and ignited a golden lightsaber.
"Canderous, watch our
rear," Lal called, tugging her Sith helmet off.
Canderous nodded grimly beside
Bastila and panned his massive rifle along the far end of the walkway.
"Looks like the Beks did
their job," Carth said, yanking his own helmet off. "Let’s hope this
droid of yours can reroute computer control before they lock us out…"
Bastila jogged lightly up
beside them, her lightsaber singing as she moved. "I could simply try to cut
through, you know."
Carth shook his head as he
watched Lal's droid work. "Door’s too thick. It would take too long."
AyVee beeped happily as the
locking mechanism of the door clanked and opened. He drifted back to float
beside Lal's shoulder and bubbled forth an excited series of whistles and
clicks and beeps. As the door opened, Lal popped a flash grenade inside and
they all turned their heads away.
Whump!
Screams and cries sounded from
within, and Lal and Carth swung into the room, bracketing the doorway. They
opened fire on the blinded troopers within, cutting them swiftly down. Bastila,
Zaalbar and Canderous filed in behind them and Lal moved swiftly towards a
computer station in the center of the room.
"AyVee," she said,
"jack in and see if you can find the codes." The droid acquiesced
with a toot, sinking his interface rod into the stud on the terminal. After few
seconds, he honked in frustration and disengaged.
"What seems to be the
problem?" Bastila demanded.
Lal sighed in annoyance at the
younger woman. "It seems
that AyVee can’t get access. That’s what the problem is…"
The droid interrupted with an
angry string of beeps. Lal tried to make sense of the droid’s harmonic speech,
but couldn’t understand. Then it suddenly dawned on her. "You need to
access a higher security terminal…"
The droid whistled long and
low, relieved she finally got it. It pointed a grasper claw to the door
directly ahead of them, and floated in that direction.
"Follow the droid, I
guess," Lal sighed, jogging after AyVee.
The door hissed open to reveal
a long white corridor studded with doors. At the far end, there stood another
door. AyVee zipped up to hug against the ceiling and coursed happily down the
corridor. "AyVee, wait!"
A door beside Lal slid open
and an officer stuck her head out. "I thought I heard blasterfire,"
she said, her eyes locking on Lal's face.
"You did," Lal said,
shoving her gun into the woman’s face and firing point blank. The officer fell
back into the room, and Lal noticed several other troops sitting down at a
table, playing Pazaak. When they saw their officer collapse in a lifeless heap,
they scrambled to their feet, reaching for their weapons. Lal popped into the
room and shot them down. Carth leaned in behind her, adding his shots to her
own.
Behind them Zaalbar and
Canderous opened up with their rifles as soldiers appeared through the far
door. Carth yanked Lal out of the crossfire, but Bastila simply charged.
"What is she doing?"
Lal cried.
"Being a Jedi,"
Carth grunted, trading shots with the soldiers.
Lal watched in breathless awe
as Bastila turned and twisted her blade, deflecting each blaster bolt that
hissed towards her. Her lightsaber cried out defiantly as she dashed into the
midst of the soldiers. She ducked low and jabbed her glowing blade into a
soldier’s belly. She ripped free and slashed laterally, beheading a trooper
edging in on her flank.
"Is she crazy?" Lal
hissed.
Carth did a double-take at her
and chuckled. "This from the woman who leaps on Rancors."
Lal glared at him and shook
her head. "She’ll get herself killed doing that! Canderous, stay here and
cover our exit. Zaalbar, hold position here and give us fire support. Carth,
with me."
Carth seemed surprised, but
didn’t argue. The two of them sailed down the corridor after Bastila. They
burst into the wide room behind her as she carved a smoking swath through the
soldiers within. AyVee slipped in above them, managing to easily stay out of
the line of fire by hovering above everyone’s heads.
A door at the left side of the
chamber hissed open and several more troops filed in. Lal and Carth cut them
down before they could target Bastila's back. More tried to push through, but
stumbled over the bodies piled in front of them.
Bastila whirled on the Sith,
having finished off the rest of the soldiers in that chamber. She whipped her
lightsaber forward, hurling it in a spinning disk of golden light. The weapon
hummed viciously into armor and flesh and bone, and another body fell. Bastila
held forth her hand, and the lightsaber sailed back into her grasp.
Lal would have been amazed if
she’d had the time. Instead, she kept pumping shots through the doorway,
blasting down the troops who tried to get through. Finally five soldiers
stormed into the room and spread out along the walls. They peppered Lal's
position with blaster shots and she dropped flat on the floor. Still firing at
them, she rolled across the floor and dashed for cover behind a series of
deactivated stasis tubes.
She popped a few shots off
from behind the tubes, and she heard a scream as she hit one of them. Again,
Bastila dashed right at the soldiers, disemboweling the nearest one. Carth
fired a quick flurry of shots, taking out the two blasting Lal's position. She
nodded her thanks to him from across the room, and he smiled in reply.
Bastila did not pause,
however. She hurled herself through the air, crashing her boot into a trooper’s
faceplate. Impossibly, she twisted her body over in mid-air and shoved off
against him with her other foot. He fell back into a comrade and Lal shot them
both. Bastila fell to the floor and reached downward to pivot around on her
palm. She thrust her foot into the remaining trooper’s knee, and he collapsed
with a shrill scream. As he fell, Bastila rose upwards, drawing her blade up
his groin and belly, unzipping his guts.
"Clear," Bastila
informed them, nodded at Carth. He nodded back and dashed forward to the side
of the door, covering Bastila as she stepped in. Lal sighed and moved up on the
opposite side.
She activated the comm on her
wrist and spoke into it. "Zaalbar, move up. Canderous, hold."
Carth glanced at her with a
smile twinkling in his eyes. "You’re so cute when you’re barking orders
like that."
"Rule number one: never
flirt with a girl who is in a hostile mood and is carrying a smoking
blaster."
"Point taken…General Lal," he chuckled back.
"What’s that supposed to
mean?" she demanded.
"If you two would please
control your hormones long enough…?" Bastila sighed heavily. "This
would appear to be some sort of control room."
Lal tossed a lingering glance
at Carth and stepped into the room. She looked around and saw tall banks of
computer consoles and monitors rising up to the ceiling in flickering rows.
"AyVee, plug in,"
she called to the floating droid above her. AyVee swooped down to hover before
one of the consoles. He deployed his interface and jacked in. The screen before
him lit up with scrolling columns of alpha-numerics, each flickering faster
than Lal could track. Every second or so, the bottom row in the lower right
corner of the screen flashed red. AyVee hummed absently and Lal wondered
exactly why Janice had programmed the droid with a personality.
She knew very little about
computer programming, but Lal was able to tell that AyVee was slicing his way
into the very code of the numerous security files on the Sith database. The
Arakyd Viper series were all highly independent droids capable of a variety of
infiltration protocols. They had slicing software packages which allowed them
to access secure files and crack encryptions.
Six months ago, Davik had
found this Arakyd snooping through his personal computer files. Lal had blasted
the little droid into so much scrap. Initially, Davik had ordered his people to
examine the droid’s database, to see what it had been looking for. Then, they
simply discarded it. But Lal scooped up the remains from the trash and took it
to Janice. The Twi’lek had rebuilt the droid from the codes on up. Lal would
never have been able to explain why she wanted a droid with such…unique
capabilities. But there were a lot of things she did, on vague, wild whims that
paid off later.
In one way or another.
Suddenly, Canderous came
running backwards into the control room. An icy grin was frozen upon his lips.
He glanced back over his shoulder at Lal and the others. "We’re going to
have company. A lot of company. No way I could hold them all, but I left a few
surprises for them."
"Wonderful," Carth
growled. "Our exfil is
compromised."
Lal glanced around as AyVee
continued to search. Looking up, she spied a metal grate sitting flush in the
ceiling. "Zaalbar, give me a boost up."
The Wookiee lumbered over and
lifted Lal up on his shoulder. She reached up and snared her fingers in the
bars of the grate. With a grunt, she popped the it free and peered up inside.
It looked like a ventilation duct, but she didn’t know if they’d be able to
climb the shaft. It seemed to go straight upwards as far as she could tell, and
there was no way to know where it would open up.
As Lal squinted to see in the darkness
a distant explosion rocked through the walls and floors. Zaalbar stumbled and
lost grip on Lal's legs. She cried out and grasped desperately for a handhold.
"One of your surprises,
Mandalorian?" Carth growled.
Canderous nodded. "First
one, ‘Public."
"This is not good,"
Bastila murmured. "You’ll have the entire garrison on our heads!"
Canderous's grin showed he
eagerly anticipated it. "In for a cred, as they say!"
"Dammit," Carth
hissed. He glanced over to the droid and then to Lal. "What’s the story?
Can we get out that way?"
"I…th-think so…" Lal
gasped, hanging from the lip of the shaft. "Zaalbar…a little help
here…?"
The Wookiee grunted and heaved
her up. She cried out as she very nearly flew straight up the shaft.
AyVee beeped proudly as he
finished his task. The droid glanced around for Lal, but only saw her legs
dangling from the shaft.
"I think the droid’s
done," Bastila announced. "Can we get out that way, Lal?"
"Very soon,"
Canderous chuckled bitterly, "anywhere will be more favorable than
here!"
Another explosion rocked the
floor, hurling them from their feet. Lal slid down the smooth sides of the
shaft, but her fingers found purchase on a seam on the metal siding. Lal
grunted and hauled her legs up. She folded her body, pressing her knees against
one side of the shaft and levering her spine against the other side. She flexed
her legs and slid her body upwards. AyVee swooped up beneath her and began
bumping against her bottom impatiently.
"Hey!" she snapped
at him. "Touching me is not a good idea!"
AyVee chirped apologetically.
"Looks like there’s a
ledge…" Lal said, craning her neck upwards. "Another grate…shush,
AyVee…" As Lal stretched to peer through the grate, she caught a glimpse
of Bastila crawling up the shaft beneath AyVee. Lal gestured for Bastila to
hold her position. Lal peeked through the grate, and saw a Sith officer
frantically barking orders to two others.
"We can’t stay in this
bloody shaft!" Bastila hissed.
"Shhh!" Lal replied.
Of course the young Jedi was completely correct; if they stayed in the shaft,
with no cover, they could easily be picked off by anyone below. Time was
running out for them; Carth was already scrambling up the shaft below Bastila.
"Oh damn," Lal muttered sourly.
She shoved forward with her
right leg, hurling the grate into the room. As quickly as she could, she pushed
her body forward, slithering feet first into the room. She crashed to the floor
in a heap and groaned.
The three officers in the room
froze in utter shock as she slowly got to her feet. For an endless second, they
stared haplessly at her. She returned their gaze and then forced her mind to go
back to work.
"Maintenance," she
blurted, jerking a thumb over her shoulder. "Inspecting…the…oh the hell
with it." She jerked her pistol up and trained it on the senior officer.
"You move and you die. You talk and you die."
The Sith didn’t move a muscle
between the three of them.
Bastila zipped into the room
with a bit more grace than Lal. AyVee flew in and bobbed up towards the ceiling.
Bastila turned back to the vent and helped Carth crawl out. "Lovely plan,
Lal. The entire base is probably in lock-down by now. Which means we have no
escape route."
Lal rolled her eyes. She was
getting tired of Bastila's mouth. "I don’t recall asking you to come along," Lal
sighed, keeping her gun on the Sith.
"Someone had to come along to keep you from
getting yourself killed!" Bastila fired back.
"Oh, I see! This from the
Jedi who lost her lightsaber and got herself captured!"
"I did not lose my lightsaber!" Bastila
cried indignantly. "It was taken while I was unconscious!"
Lal swallowed a growl and
shook her head. "Whatever. Just take their weapons."
"And that’s another thing
we need to clear up," Bastila continued. "I only take orders from you
at my decision! In fact, you should consider your…orders to be rather more like suggestions!"
"Ladies," Carth
grunted, tugging Canderous out of the shaft, "is this really the time and
place for this argument?" Once Canderous was safely in, they both turned
and hauled Zaalbar out. The Wookiee shrieked as a patch of fur got caught on
the seam of the opening.
One of the Sith raised his
hand tentatively. "Er…excuse me?"
"What?" Lal snarled
at him.
"Er…it’s just that…we
don’t have weapons…being that we’re just computer programmers…"
Lal cocked her hip to the side
and lowered her gun. "Oh."
"They’re
programmers," Bastila groaned, pressed her hand to her forehead in dismay.
"We probably simply could have come here and asked them for the
files."
Lal closed her eyes and
gnashed her teeth together. "Are you purposely trying to push my buttons,
Bastila?"
Bastila adopted an innocent
expression and shrugged her shoulders. "I’m only saying…they’re programmers. Not soldiers. They probably
would have been quite helpful."
"Just because they’re
programmers doesn’t mean they’re not evil," Lal snapped back.
"They’re Sith! I thought you hated Sith!"
"Lal, I am a Jedi Knight.
I do not succumb to hate."
"Of course! You’re Jedi!
It’s utterly beneath you!"
"Um…" the Sith raised
his hand once more. "I really don’t mean to interrupt, because you seem to
be having a…very important conversation…but are you planning on killing
us?"
"A bit eager to die,
aren’t you, boy?" Canderous grinned savagely, shoving the barrel of his
rifle under the officer’s chin.
"Canderous," Lal
called out. "Down. Alright. What is your name?"
The Sith cleared his throat
and stiffened his spine. He thrust his chin forward as if he were at parade
rest and said, "Junior Leftenant Nam Tanno! Serial Number--"
"Alright shut up,"
Lal sighed. She glanced at a cluster of computer consoles in the room and waved
her blaster at them. "I suppose you could help us,
Nam Tanno’s stature instantly
slumped and desperation clouded his features. "Er…well, actually…You see,
none of us wishes you Republic scum any harm, of c-course…eh…but we’d be
beheaded for aiding and abetting the enemy. You understand of course…"
"Of course," Lal
smiled sweetly at him. She put her blaster away and unsheathed her vibroblade.
She clicked it on, and eyed
"Er…wait! You’re
Republic!" He cried, clapping a hand protectively over his ear. "You
don’t…you don’t…"
"I’m
"Gah!" the officer
gurgled, "Alright! What do you want?"
"That’s a dear," she
smiled. "I want you to give us a layout of this base of yours. I want you
to clear us a path to the nearest exit, releasing any blast doors or security
lock-outs."
"I…okay. B-but you must
know, even if you made it, as soon as you set foot outside, you’d be blasted by
our troops positioned on the entrances…"
Carth stepped forward to
whisper into Lal's ear. "He’s probably right, Lal. If we walked out of the
door at this point, we’d have to fight our way through the city. Besides which,
we couldn’t trust him anyway. We need another option."
"Drat," Lal
murmured. "You’re right, of course…" a thought whistled weakly in her
mind, then, trying to punch through from her memory. "Canderous…I seem to
recall something…but it was before my time here…When the Hutts still ran the
Docks…"
Canderous narrowed his eyes
and nodded. "Yes. The bloats had set up an elevator system that led down
to LowCity. They were too lazy to slither to the front bloody door."
Bastila glanced at both of
them incredulously. "The Sith aren’t that
sloppy. Surely they would have secured any such Accessway upon
arrival?"
"No," Carth shook
his head. "They may not have had time. I’ve seen these sorts of modular
constructions before. Hell, they’re probably using the elevator for cargo
purposes."
Lal smiled back at the Sith
and tapped her blade against the computer console. "Get to work,
The Sith nodded reluctantly,
and glanced at his two subordinates. They both tried their level best to appear
invisible. He cursed under his breath at them and sat down. His fingers danced
across the keyboard, entering commands and walking through menus. He tapped a
final command and scooted back in his chair.
Lal and Canderous leaned in to
examine the displays on the screen. "I don’t see anything," Lal
murmured with a frown.
Canderous pointed at a closed
off section. "There. They put up security walls around it. I’d bet real
money they closed down power to it. Yes. You can tell. These conduits here? The
blue ones? They are all active. But you can see one leading to…this junction
here…that’s not active." He snatched the Sith by his shoulder and yanked
him forward. "You. Reactivate this power conduit."
"I…I…I’m sorry! I can’t
do it from here!"
Canderous grimaced and pressed
his blaster into the man’s face.
"I wish I c-could!"
Tanno cried desperately. "We don’t have system access to the power grid
from here! We just organize datafiles! I swear!"
"He’s being
truthful," Bastila told the Mandalorian. "While he does not wish to
cooperate, he’s too terrified of you to deceive us."
Zaalbar barked out
speculatively, drawing everyone’s attention to him.
"What’d he say?"
Canderous asked Lal.
Lal walked over to Zaalbar and
folded her arms. "You sure?" she asked him. The Wookiee nodded and
patted an equipment pouch on his bandolier. Lal smiled up at him. "I knew
there was a reason I kept you around, Carpet. Alright. Zaalbar says he can
reconnect the couplings and restore power."
"Well then," Bastila
began, lifting her chin, "I suggest we keep moving."
*
And since it was Lal's money,
that made it all the better.
Carrying several large bags
stuffed with clothes,
Now, as Mission sat back in a
new pair of iridescent Firian skin boots, in a lustrous tunic woven of fine
Andal silk, she discovered another transcendent ritual associated with
Shopping. After having laid down nearly a thousand credits on something called
lingerie, she was now being treated to a manicure. The delicate, tiny claws on
her fingertips were being polished and painted with a smooth, clear sheen that
bent light like a prism. And her lekku hung back limply from her skull,
glistening from an acid peel that left them feeling tingly and smooth.
The normally ill-tempered
humans of UpCity completely forgot she was a mere Twi’lek alien; now, she
belonged. Even if it was only while she spent Lal's money, it felt good
nonetheless.
After she was done,
A shadow passed across her
shoulders and
"Hello, joygirl,"
Calo Nord chuckled, his lips twisted in a cruel sneer.
Calo plopped down on the seat
beside her, pressing against her with the sharp angles of all the weapons
holstered on his dense, squat form. He laid a heavy arm across her shoulders
and whistled a pleasant little ditty. It sounded obscene coming from his lips.
"I don’t care about you,
blue-skin," Calo sighed, not looking at her. "I mean, I’d as soon
kill you as look at you." He spoke in a conversational tone, as if they
were simply discussing the weather. Or arena stats.
He slipped a tiny, wickedly
curved knife from the depths of his jacket, and gently trailed the serrated
edge along the length of her bare thigh. It slipped underneath the edge of her
tunic, and
"This says you’re
property, little one," he whispered into the conical bone plate of her
ear. "It says I can do anything I want to you."
"What do you--"
He pressed a finger to her
lips and closed his eyes. He gave a tiny shake of his head to silence her
questions. "Before we get into that, let me tell you how difficult it is
to saw off a finger with a blade. Not a vibroblade, mind you." He lifted
his knife before her eyes, and
"Ah. Well, they’d be a
lot easier to sever completely, then." He drew the flat of his knife down
the surface of her left lekku, and her skin curdled. She felt her body jerking
away from him, but he clenched her tightly against him and clicked his tongue
admonishingly. "Now, now. We’re all friends here. Give us a smile,
With his knife, he gently
pressed at the corner of her mouth. Her entire body trembled.
"A smile. Not so
difficult, hmm? Eh. Alright. I’ll ask this one time,
His hand flicked. The knife
blurred. A gash opened down the side of her cheek.
"Now, now," he
shushed her, "that’ll heal just fine. Don’t cry. No need for tears. If you
wish, I won’t leave anything that will make a scar. Or…"
"Dammit," she
gasped, tearing his hand from her mouth and thinking fast, "I don’t know!
She said something about a meeting with a Sith Commander! She didn’t tell me
anything else! I swear!"
Calo sighed and nodded.
"I see." He glanced down at the bags between her feet, and used his
knife to hold one of the bags open. "Hmm. Expensive. Good taste. You know
what I like about women? Hmm? They’re all the same. No, it doesn’t matter what
species; they all have certain similarities. You don’t agree? They are always, always precious things. Precious like a
meal to a hungry man. Now some women are smart. They realize their value. They
let it work to their favor. You…you’re still a little girl. You haven’t yet
realized your worth,
Calo chuckled and shook his
head. "I’m not going to kill you. I haven’t been told to. But you won’t
die free, Twi’lek. No. Not free. Davik wants you back. And he wants Lal, too.
But she, on the other hand, she just might die free."
*
Lal pumped off two more shots
as two more Sith charged around the corner. She dropped them both and glanced
at Zaalbar's massive back, huddled over an exposed power relay. "How much
longer, Carpet?"
He roared an insult over his
shoulder and told her to shut up.
"I don’t mean to rush
you, big guy," Carth said firing away with both blasters as more troopers
appeared. "But we can’t hold this spot forever…Lal! On your right!"
Lal dropped to one knee and
spun. She blasted a soldier at point blank range in his chest. Zaalbar snarled
that he was finished and reached for his rifle. Lal lifted her wrist comp and
spoke into it. "Alright Canderous blow it. We’re falling back."
Lal backed up, still firing at
the troops before her. Carth covered her retreat, and waited for Zaalbar to
dash past him before he too, fell back.
The three of them ran down the
corridor to the very end where Canderous and Bastila stood flat against a wall.
Canderous squeezed a palm-detonator and charges dislodged the wall at the end
of the corridor. It fell down flat with a whump,
revealing an open space behind the wall. Bastila stepped inside and located a
control panel. Activation lights gleamed across its surface beneath a layer of
cold dust.
"It’s working!" she
called out, tentatively punching at the controls with her finger. "Anyone
know exactly where this will take us?"
Lal jumped in beside her, her
breath streaming in and out in sharp gasps. "Down?"
Zaalbar growled his warbling
agreement and joined them. Carth and Canderous fired down the corridor at the
troopers steadily advancing on them. Canderous popped a plasma grenade and
tossed it down the hall at the Sith. They scattered, but didn’t have enough
room to escape the blast.
The pressure wave slammed
Carth into Lal and Zaalbar, hurling all three down. Canderous flew above them
and landed in a crouch at Bastila's feet. The explosion rocked the floor
beneath them and Bastila activated the elevator. It shuddered heavily and dropped
downward with a groan.
They all ducked as tongues of
fire licked over them from the detonation.
The elevator trundled down a
dark, creaking shaft, lit only by AyVee’s blue and red lights. He squeaked out
a tiny whistle as he scanned the shaft. Lal glanced at the palm-display that
Janice had given her; it provided a direct link to several of his systems. The
tiny screen displayed the results of his scan.
"Looks like the bottom of
the shaft is closed off," she warned.
"Predictable,"
Bastila groaned. She ignited her lightsaber in the darkness. The elevator
rumbled to a halt and Bastila's lightsaber flashed. It cut into the wall
effortlessly, hissing through solid durasteel plate. She carved an exit into
the wall and held up her hand before it. With a nudge of her will, the section
of the wall flew free.
They stepped out into
darkness. Lal went first, stumbling over a pile of metal boxes.
"Dammit," she hissed as Carth caught her. She turned back and smiled
to him as he clutched her arm. "Mmm. My hero."
Bastila rolled her eyes.
"Please. Can we focus?"
They all climbed out of the
elevator and Canderous pulled out a satchel charge. He opened the top and armed
it.
"Aw, for crying out
loud!" Carth exclaimed, staring at the grinning Mandalorian. "Where
do you get all of this stuff?"
Canderous chuckled and tossed
the charge back into the elevator behind them. "Relax, ‘Public. We don’t
want them following us down, do we?"
"No," Carth agreed.
"But you’re still a maniac."
"I’m wounded,"
Canderous snorted. "By the way, duck."
They all crouched low as the
charge blew, hurling a cloud of heat and light over them. Zaalbar roared and
clapped his paws against his ears. He chewed off a string of acidic Wookiee
curses, firing insults at the Mandalorian. AyVee started whistling and beeping
loudly. Carth yelled angrily at Canderous and grabbed him around the collar.
"You idiot!" Carth
cried out, balling up his fist. "You could’ve killed us all!"
"Take your hands off me,
dog," Canderous growled back at him.
"Carth!" Bastila
called, grabbing his fist before he could punch Canderous. "We don’t have
time for displays of macho hostility…"
"That’s it, Jedi,"
Canderous grinned dangerously, "call your dog off before I make him
beg."
Lal knew a fight was coming.
Canderous was eager for it of course, but there was no way she’d allow him to
kill Carth. She moved to stop them, but noticed AyVee’s insistent bleating. She
glanced down at her palm-top and sucked in a deep breath. "Oh hell…"
"What is it?"
Bastila asked her while Carth and Canderous continued to yell at each other.
"Down!" Lal cried
out.
A brace of blaster bolts
sprayed towards them from the darkness. Bastila held up her lightsaber and
deflected several of the blasts. But the sheer power of the shots shoved her backwards
and nearly wrenched the lightsaber from her grasp.
Something from the darkness
took a few clanking steps towards them, and Lal saw a cluster of glowing red
lights, mashed together like an insect’s compound eyes. A dull hum buzzed
towards them, and a gleaming metal shape skittered slowly towards them. It had
long segmented legs, like a spider, but its body…its chassis was composed of hard, sharp angles and thick armor
plating. It swiveled a flat head, bristling with glowing red sensors and locked
onto the group. Behind its head, twin blaster cannons cranked loudly towards
them and opened fire again.
Lal and the others scattered
across the floor as the blasterfire exploded behind them in a shower of flame
and superheated air.
"Sentry droid!"
Carth shouted out, his blaster pistols blazing at the machine. "Armor’s
too thick for conventional blasters!"
Lal was already moving and
snapping off a few shots of her own. "Then why are you shooting it? To
make it mad?" She jumped into a sidelong roll as a bolt of fire destroyed
the floor beneath her. The explosion hurled her through the air and she landed
hard on her belly.
"The only vulnerable spot
is directly beneath the sensor module," Carth called back. "Beneath
the head!"
"It is no match for the
power of the Force," Bastila promised, soaring through the air and
flipping over the top of the droid. As she landed, she unleashed both glowing
blades of her lightsaber. "I will destroy this monstrosity."
Her lightsaber screamed and
bled golden light as it tore spirals through the air and sizzled into the armor
of the droid. Smoke rose from the droid’s body in white clouds as Bastila
chopped and slashed and stabbed at it. It spun the twin cannons around and
fired point blank at Bastila. She rocketed straight up into the air, and kicked
her legs up over her head. Flipping upside down, she brought her blade down in
an inverted arc, chopping through the cannons.
Bastila landed in a crouch and
closed down one blade. She thrust upwards, spearing the droid beneath the head
module. Her lightsaber burned through the top of the head, melting its
targeting sensors. The droid shuddered for a long moment, before Bastila closed
down her blade entirely. The droid collapsed in a smoldering heap.
Lal and Carth and Zaalbar just
stared in awe where they had thrown themselves to the ground seconds before.
Canderous picked himself up and snorted derisively at Bastila's efforts.
"Always easier with a
lightsaber," he grunted.
Lal stood slowly and placed
her hands on her hips. "Okay, I’ll admit it, that was rather impressive,
Bastila."
Bastila let a smile peek out
from her lips. "Well, it’s not a Rancor, but thank you, Lal."
Lal's cheeks reddened and she
glanced at Carth. "You told her about the Rancor?"
*
When they arrived back at the
Hidden Beks’ base, the first thing Lal did was collapse in the chair of the
office they’d taken over. Zaalbar howled in exhaustion and dropped his
bandolier heavily on the floor. AyVee followed them in and immediately plugged
himself into a dusty old power converter they’d salvaged. He released a long
and contented whistle.
"Shower," Lal
croaked weakly. "That’s all I want."
Instead, she got Bastila. The
young Jedi strolled into the room, utterly untouched by the fatigue that seemed
to burden everyone else. In fact, she was smiling. She paused at the doorway
and clasped her hands contritely behind her back.
"Lal?" she asked
softly, "May I speak with you?"
Lal groaned and sat forward
behind the desk. She propped her elbows on the desk and sighed. "Shoot."
"Well, I…I just wanted to
say…Well…what I mean to say is that…I had my doubts…about your plan…and mind
you, I was correct that it did not go off without a…a hitch, but…"
"Bastila, you sure have a
hard time with apologies, don’t you?"
"I’m not apologizing!"
Bastila exclaimed defensively. "I honestly don’t feel I have anything to
apologize for, Lal."
"Then what did you come
here to say? That instead of a complete
idiot, I’m only a partial idiot?
How generous of you."
"That’s not…I didn’t come
here to insult you!"
Lal rubbed the bridge of her
nose. "Really? You didn’t come here to apologize. You didn’t come here to
insult me. So what did you come
here for?"
"I…I…Ohh! Why do you make
it so difficult? You’ve never been easy to talk to! Nevermind!"
Lal arched an eyebrow in
confusion and shot to her feet. "Bastila…"
Bastila ignored her and
whirled around to storm out of the office. She walked right into Carth,
however. Canderous and Gadon Theck were behind him.
"Lal," Carth began
gravely, "we’ve got problems."
Lal cocked her head to the
side to fire off a bit of sarcasm. But a clump of frozen acid burned deep in
her belly. "Mission…where’s
Gadon stepped into the room
with a heavy sigh. "
He handed over a small
Holo-card. Lal took it and a message appeared in golden letters floating in the
air just above the card’s surface:
Mr. Davik Kang Awaits the
Pleasure of Lal Sideen’s Company
And as it faded, another
message appeared:
Don’t screw this
"Oh hell," Lal
murmured, collapsing back in her seat. "Davik has her. He’s going to kill
her. He’s going to kill her…"
"Lal," Carth said,
walking over to her. He laid a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off
violently. He sighed and pulled back. "Lal, he’s not gonna kill her."
"He might as well,"
Lal groaned. "You know what he’s going to make her do. She’s too young.
She’s…she’s too weak to survive it. That…that stupid little girl! Why didn’t
she just stay here like I told her?"
"It’s obviously a
trap," Canderous said casually. "He’s expecting that you’ll go to
rescue the fool girl. Davik has obviously reasoned that you care for her. And
he’s right."
Carth glared around at
Canderous with a simmering rage burning in his eyes. "You make it sound
like caring for anyone or anything is a weakness."
Canderous shrugged. "It
is. And it makes you vulnerable. It limits what you are willing to sacrifice in
order to achieve victory."
"Caring also gives you
something to fight for," Carth growled, folding his arms across his chest.
"True," Canderous
admitted. "Men would never fight and die if they cared about nothing. And
if there were no men to care, there would be no enemies to learn what it is
that they care about…and exploit it."
Everyone fell silent for a
moment, absorbing the cold truth of Canderous’ words.
"And do you care about
nothing, Canderous Ordo?" Bastila asked.
Canderous glanced at her in
surprise and chuckled. "Me? Well, if you are asking, is there anything I
would die to protect, the answer is yes. Not just ‘yes’, but of course. But my vulnerabilities are not
subject for your inspection and analysis, Jedi."
Bastila thought about what he
said and nodded. "Of course, Mandalorian. I suppose the answer is Lal's to
give."
Lal glanced up at Bastila. Her
brow furrowed at the young woman. A warm rage rose unbidden and unexplained in
her thoughts. Lal's hands clenched into tight fists against her thighs and she
shut her eyes. Bastila infuriated her for no apparent reason, with her constant
talk of the Jedi and the Republic; her superior tone, her incessant arguing. As
if she had something to prove.
But it was not Bastila with
whom Lal was truly angry. It was herself. She had allowed herself to care about
Well, Lal had had enough of
charity, of caring. She was sick to her heart of it. She’d already bled for too
many people that, by all rights, should have meant nothing. Less than nothing.
She had done all she could for
Mission was dangerous. She
was…a liability to Lal. She was a liability, because Lal did care about her; cared about her
well-being. She couldn’t simply leave
But Lal also realized; it no
longer mattered.
She had to pay a call on
Davik. She had to get in and get his ship, the Ebon Hawk. It was the fastest
ship on the planet, and Lal needed it. So that was simply that.
She rose to her feet and
forced a sheet of calm to settle over her features. "I’m going to rescue
"Lal," Carth piped
up. "I’m with you."
She paused and frowned.
Something in her wanted to say no!
She didn’t want him involved in this business. But it was his business, wasn’t
it? Their paths had become one. She had no say in the matter.
She nodded at him.
"Bastila?" Lal said,
"I…I know you have no reason to help me, but…"
Bastila smiled warmly at Lal.
"You don’t even need to ask, Lal. Of course I’ll help you." She
walked over and laid her hand on Lal's. "I…what I wanted to say earlier,
Lal…I was wrong about you. You’ve just shown that. I’d be proud to stand with
you."
Lal blinked her eyes
incredulously. She opened her mouth to speak, but found no words.
"I…I…thank you."
"I’ll give you what help
I can, Lal," Gadon told her. "
"No," Lal said, a
bit too swiftly. "No. I won’t risk you or your people, Gadon. Zaalbar…I
want you to remain here as well. It will be too risky."
Zaalbar howled defiantly and
shook his massive fist at her.
"No!" Lal cried.
"I don’t care about your honor or your debt to me! You will stay here and
that’s all there is to it!"
"Lal," Carth said,
"we’re gonna need his help. There’s no other way around it. Besides, he’s
right: he can make his own decisions. I don’t understand Shryiiwook as well as
you, but it sounds like he’s already made his mind up."
Zaalbar nodded resolutely and
folded his long shaggy arms across his chest.
"Dammit," Lal hissed
at him. "Stupid Wookiee…"
"So," Canderous said
loudly, walking around to lean against the desk. "Does anyone have
anything closely approximating a plan?"
"You’re coming,
Mandalorian?" Carth asked, utterly shocked.
"Heh. Not for any
sentimental reasons, I assure you, ‘Public. Davik has something we need in
addition to Lal's little friend. A ship. I see no reason not to punish his
actions with
"I hate to say it,
Lal," Bastila said, "but Canderous is right. We can rescue
"I suppose you’re right,
Bastila. I suppose you’re right. And I think I have a plan…"
Darth Malak stood at the
forecastle of the Leviathan’s bridge and stared coldly down at the crisp,
blue-white surface of Taris swelling far below. At one point in his life, he
might have found the sight of the planet beautiful. At one point in his life,
he would have fought with his dying breath to preserve that beauty.
But of course, that had been
before Revan. Before the Star Forge.
Once, Malak had been a Jedi,
and a hero. He and Revan had been…Malak had followed Revan blindly, foolishly.
Revan’s charisma had been undeniable. Revan’s logic, irrefutable.
At the time, it had seemed the
only way to save the galaxy from chaos. Now, there was only Malak’s way.
On the planet below him, he
knew Bastila Shan was hiding from him. He could sense her presence, as she, no
doubt could sense his. Malak did not know why the Jedi Council had sent Bastila
to this far-flung world so far removed from the beaten path. But he wasn’t
entirely certain that he cared. Bastila was a dangerous opponent. Oh, to be
sure, she was little more than a child, younger even than Bandon, his
apprentice. And her Jedi skills remained unfocused.
But Bastila was dangerous for
her Battle Meditation, her ability to manipulate entire armies. Malak had seen
it in operation only once; during Revan’s attack on the Republic forces. That
had been a cleverly crafted trap. The Jedi maneuvered Revan out into the open
by providing an irresistible target. And Revan, like the fool she was, had
fallen right into it, against Malak’s counsel. Together, they had watched while
Bastila's power made fools of their armies, dulled the wits of their pilots and
officers, while inspiring the Republic dogs to victory.
And she had used the ensuing
chaos to go after Revan directly. Malak had been given no choice then. He had
done what he had to do. For the glory of the Sith, yes; but even more so, to
further the plan.
And now, the plan was at risk
once more. All because of pretty little Bastila.
Malak wanted Bastila, to crush
her within his iron grasp and turn her to his cause. Though she was brave, she
had a weak mind. He’d felt the shadow over her heart. But she eluded him. She
eluded his best efforts. She eluded Bandon. And she hid herself away on that
beautiful planet far, far below.
Darth Malak, Lord of the Sith
whirled away from the viewscreen and fixed Admiral Karath with his frosty
glare. "Admiral, how long would it take to maneuver our ships into planetary
bombardment range?"
Karath glanced up in surprise
where he leaned over the chair of one of his officers. "My Lord? Ah…"
he reached down past the officer to press a few controls on her station
console. He read the results of his check and glanced up at Malak. "For
maximum fire-for-effect, it would require an hour."
Malak nodded and glanced back
at the viewscreen. Something strange…a feeling of familiar dread washed through
him with a chill. He clasped his massive fists behind him and sighed.
"Signal the Gladius and the Cestus, Admiral. We will move into bombardment
range. Alert the flight deck. Launch bomber squadrons."
Karath frowned and stepped up
onto the command-walkway with Malak. "Er…my Lord…we still have soldiers
deployed on the surface. Our own men…Shall I order the withdrawal of our
forces?"
Malak growled through the
respirator mask clutching his chin and jaw and his eyes flared. "Admiral,
you have my orders. I want that planet razed to the very core. Do you require
me to repeat myself?"
Karath visibly wilted beneath
his master’s gaze. He stepped backwards and nodded. "It...it will be as
you wish, my Lord Malak…"
*
Davik Kang’s vast estate
rested at the top of
Davik used the top floor of
his compound mainly as advertisement; he brought his most treasured clients and
business partners here. The open rooms and piazzas hosted sprawling pools and
cozy lounges where half naked joygirls frolicked. Below the top floor, hidden
from sight, lurked the corridors and chambers in which he did his true
business. There, he had labs that refined spice loads stolen from the Kessel
Run; workshops that counterfeited cred-sticks and other currencies from local
Systems. His soldiers were quartered there, and a landing bay housed a number
of ships and transports for his personal use.
One of those transports, a
sleek, low-slung air speeder, came humming over the top of the compound and
dropped slowly towards a landing pad beside the
After the speeder came to a
rest on an anti-grav cushion, the side hatch opened up. Lal Sideen stumbled
out, bleeding freely from the nose and mouth. She nearly collapsed, but
Canderous Ordo climbed out behind her and steadied her with a gauntleted hand.
Two of Davik’s hunters followed, clad entirely in armor, shoving Lal's Wookiee
with a pair of shock sticks. The Wookiee howled in pain and struggled to free
himself from a pair of manacles chained to a collar around his neck.
Davik coked his head to the
side in annoyance. "Why ain’t she chained up, Canderous?"
"Actually, Davik,"
Canderous sighed, jerking Lal towards Davik by her shirt collar, "she came
along willingly."
Davik eyed her up and down as
Canderous steered her in front of him. "Willingly, huh? Then what’s with
all the blood? Did you have to convince her to come ‘willingly’?"
Lal glanced back at Canderous
and spat a glob of blood onto his blue and silver chest plate.
"We had a
disagreement," Canderous chuckled.
"What is this about,
Davik?" Lal demanded.
"Oh, so it’s questions, I
guess," Davik said, rolling his eyes. "Come on Lal. You know better
than to play the fool, eh? I taught you better than that, eh? It’s bad enough
that you try to steal one of my girls. And then I see you onna vids getting’ inta
gang business…I start thinkin’; what’s Lal up to? Is she tryin’ ta move on me?
After all I done for her?"
"I suppose you think
that’s any of your business…" Lal growled.
Davik grinned at her. And
backhanded her savagely. She dropped to the ground, blood spraying from her
mouth. Davik stared down at her in disgust. "Such a pretty little girl.
I’m gonna make you ugly, Lal. You got my word on that."
"Davik…you son of a…You
gave me an impossible task…get close to the Sith…" Lal struggled back to
her feet, but fell backwards on her bottom. "What do you think I was
trying to do?"
"Aw come on. I ain’t
stupid. Running that gang race ain’t got a thing t’do with the Sith."
"You’re wrong," Lal
gasped, rolling weakly onto her side. "I found out that th-the Vulkars
were holding s-someone the Sith wanted. B-badly. A Jedi…named Bastila
Shan."
Davik arched his eyebrows at
Calo and Canderous.
"Th-that’s right,
Davik," Lal murmured, wiping her sleeve across her red mouth. "The
race was part of an operation…to distract the gangs…while…while my people stole
Bastila…"
Davik knelt down before Lal
and brushed the hair from her eyes. "The vids showed you killing Brejik,
baby. What’s that got t’do with this Jedi?"
"It was a b-bonus,"
she hissed, hanging her head. "He green-lighted his boys to ambush me
outside of the Daystar. Everyone involved in that is going to bleed." She
accentuated her promise with a barbed glare at Calo.
"Lal…" Davik began,
frowning in uncertainty.
"You don’t trust me,
fine," Lal glared up at him. "It won’t hurt my feelings. But if you
want me to do my job, then let me
do my job. The way I see fit."
Davik sighed and snapped his
fingers. "Take the Wookiee down below. You two;" he gestured to two
of his boys. "Bring her."
*
Davik poured himself a straight
shot of Flanna and watched as Lal stood in the fresher, washing the blood from
her face. She had removed her shirt, which was soaked with blood anyway. And
Davik noticed all the bruises along her ribcage. He saw the dark scar of a
blaster shot on her shoulder.
"You been through the
wringer, honey," he said, taking a sip.
Lal dabbed a towel to her face
and swept her hair back from her face with wet hands. She hurled the towel away
and stepped into Davik’s office. Canderous stood by the door, his helmet
cradled in his arm. Calo sat in a couch along the wall.
Davik sat behind his desk and
leaned back in his chair. He gestured to the chair in front of his desk.
"Sit."
Lal tossed a wary glance at
Canderous and Calo, and did as she was told. She wore only a thin halter top
and a black leather skirt that gleamed as it drank up the light in the room.
She tried to cross her legs casually, but the motion shoved a twinge of pain
through her body.
Davik’s eyes drifted down to
the tops of her knees, just visible beyond the edge of his desk. "You been
rode hard an’ put away wet, alright," he told her. "Okay Lal. Tell me
why I’m not cutting your tongue out right now."
"Because I’m telling you
the truth."
"Uh-uh. Try it again,
sweetness. See, I know some things. Fact: you stole the Twi’lek. She was primo
skin, too. I’m sore about that. Fact: you been burnin’ down Vulkars left and
right, and I don’t see that it had a hell of a lot t’do with this Jedi. Fact:
unless I’m mistaken, you ain’t got either the Jedi, or the Sith in your pocket.
Not that there’s a whole lotta room in that skirt for pockets. Heh. So call me
a liar. Tell me I’m wrong."
"You’re…right. On all
counts. I ordered
"Is this true,
Canderous"
Canderous shrugged. "I
saw a woman. She may have been a Jedi. Since you told me only to retrieve
Sideen, I was not concerned about this other one. However…she did not appear to
be in Lal's custody. In fact, they seemed rather chummy to me."
Davik turned back to Lal for
explanation.
"She trusts me," Lal
said. "I did rescue her from
the Vulkars."
"It’s possible, I
suppose," Canderous relented. "Not my style. But she works
differently."
"You’re a vile
thug," Lal fired at him. "And you’ve damned near ruined
everything."
"’Damned near’?"
Davik asked, leaning forward over his drink. "Is there a way this can be
salvaged?"
Lal purposely glanced at her
wrist-comp to check the time. "Possibly. Did you injure Zaalbar?"
"Your Wookiee?"
Davik asked. "He’s in a holding cell downstairs. Are you expecting
someone?"
"No," Lal said,
smiling at Davik and taking a deep breath. "But you are. Or rather…you
should be."
"Lal…I’m willin’ ta give
you benefit of the doubt. Given our history together. But don’t torque me off.
I’ll kill you as soon as look at you."
"Why is that, Davik? Haven’t
I always done what you’ve told me? Have I ever betrayed you?"
"I…No, you haven’t Lal.
Of course you haven’t. Alright. Tell me what’s goin’ on."
"First, Davik, let’s take
a walk, shall we?"
*
Zaalbar hung his head and
moaned softly As Canderous’ two hunters rather clumsily led him to the cells
down below.
"Do either of you have an
idea where we’re going?" Bastila asked, pulling her helmet off. Beside
her, Carth did the same, and shrugged.
Zaalbar sighed in dismay and
shut the two humans out as they began arguing. For creatures with such a
limited vocal range, humans sure did a lot of talking. They loved to hear
themselves speak. He did his best to ignore them; he had determined a while ago
that neither Carth nor Bastila really had anything important to say. But they
seemed to be a positive influence on Lal. Well, Carth seemed to be, at least.
But Zaalbar had grown tired of waiting for Carth to claim Lal as his mate.
Human lifespans were too short for the elaborate courting rituals they seemed
to prefer. Zaalbar was convinced Lal's disposition would be a lot more positive
with a pup or two of her own.
Mission was good for Lal, too.
Zaalbar liked
In any way.
Zaalbar let Bastila and Carth
argue and scented the air. He inhaled deeply and tasted the air at the same
time, hanging his mouth open. His nose had led them to the slave quarters,
where the air was moist with the wet reek of human sex. Humans weren’t entirely
repulsive things, but their lack of fur meant their naturally sour scents escaped
from their flesh to mingle with the air. Twi’leks had no body hair whatsoever,
but even though they were bare-skins, they had a different chemical make-up
than humans. Didn’t stink.
He caught scent of at least
two Twi’lek females and paused in the corridor. Carth and Bastila nearly
collided into his back. He turned around and shushed their babbling. There was
something else staining the air besides the Twi’lek scent. Something tangy.
Blood.
Zaalbar cried out in alarm and
thundered towards the source of the scent. He led them to a door and scented
again. He could smell a Twi’lek and a human, and sweat. The blood stink issued
from the same place. Fear stumbled through his brain and he searched
frantically for a keypad to open the door. He found a single flat panel and
jammed it hard with his paw. The door hissed open and the blood scent slammed
Zaalbar in the face.
"
Zaalbar bared his fangs in
challenge and hurled himself at the man with a savage snarl. The man raised a
bloodied knife to ward Zaalbar off, but the Wookiee let the blade slide off his
thick coat. A massive paw slammed down on the man’s forearm, shattering it.
The human screamed, but
Zaalbar clamped a paw over his mouth. He squeezed, popping the man’s jaw out of
joint. Zaalbar swung the human around and into a wall. He heard the human’s
spine crack wetly and watched him slide to the floor.
"Oh no, Mission!"
Carth gasped, moving to her side. Zaalbar stormed towards mission and shoved
Carth out of the way. He cradled
"Zaalbar," Bastila
whispered at his side. "Please let me help."
Zaalbar wondered exactly what
the Jedi could possibly do. Bastila reached out to touch the side of
"Lal," she gurgled,
staring into Bastila's eyes. "I’m so glad you came for me…I’m so
sleepy…"
Bastila gently slapped
"Hold still,
And then
"Hey b-big Z…" she
murmured.
Bastila swayed dizzily, and
reached out to grab Zaalbar's shoulder for support. Carth stepped forward to
hold her, but Bastila smiled weakly and waved his hands away. "
"I feel l-like I’m
chained up in a dungeon and have just b-been t-tortured…"
"Hold still,
Zaalbar told her that she
would have died without Bastila's help. He’d never seen anything quite like it.
"So guys…what’s the
plan?"
"Lal's here," Carth
said, squeezing
"Oh no…"
Carth swallowed and glanced at
both Zaalbar and Bastila. "Listen,
"Everything will be alright,
Zaalbar wasn’t so sure, but he
said nothing. They’d probably misunderstand him anyway.
Carth glanced at his
wrist-chrono and sighed. "Okay Zaalbar, if that droid’s on-schedule, we
should be go. Here’s where we
part company, big guy. Good luck."
Zaalbar laid a paw on Carth's
shoulder and asked him to promise to protect Lal.
Carth smiled up at the Wookiee
and glanced at Bastila. "Don’t worry big guy. We’ll bring her back for
you."
*
AyVee puttered along, skimming
the ceilings of Davik’s stronghold; happily, he streamed a comforting data tree
through his main processors, finding an almost musical harmonic to the numbers
composing the data his sensors gathered. Several times, he almost stopped to
examine the data stream more closely, but his programming architecture reminded
him he was on a mission to serve The Lal.
AyVee distantly realized that
he required constant reminding of his tasks. For some reason, he grew easily
distracted. He could hardly be blamed for this, he decided; he was experiencing the world for the first
time, after all. He had a responsibility to gather as much information as
possible.
For example, colors: AyVee had
already compiled extensive information about colors. He had classified nearly
ten million colors already, the overwhelming majority of which went unnoticed
by simplistic organic visual receptors. Who would take the time to sit back and
appreciate the spectrum of visual variation that was color? Organics did not
seem to have time…or the multi-tasking capabilities.
Then, there was language: his
databanks had extensive files about various spoken languages, but in his
monitoring of lower band global transmissions, he had begun to compile a
database on a variety of previously unclassified dialects and so-called
"patois". Organic communication was a patchwork of astounding variety
and versatility. Invariably, this led him to some dismay over his own hideously
under-appreciated digital communication. Even the Lal had yet to fully grasp
his method of speech. Certainly, it would have been easier if he had been
designed to communicate in simple idiot Basic, but his design architecture had
already been stuffed with so many capabilities.
Perhaps his Maker simply had
no more room for conventional speech.
As he zipped along, his
passive sensors alerted him to an intermittent energy signature a few meters
ahead of him. He switched to visual scans and noticed a security vid mounted
high on the wall before him. These vids presented something of a nuisance to
him; in theory, he should have been able to access a central security network
to then manipulate the data streams controlling each vid monitor. But each of these
vids was modular, and had independent system access. It was tiresome.
He pinged the vid’s control
module and established a floating link. Since the camera’s images were stored
digitally, it was an easy task to compile a three second recording loop to allow
him to slip by unseen. It was easy, yes. But it was irritating to have to do
this separately for each vid he encountered. The Lal required him to be more
efficient.
AyVee came to the grating of a
ventilation shaft. Checking his records for the estate’s layout, he decided
that this was the shaft he needed to enter. He deployed his prime-tertiary
manipular assembly (which organics short-sightedly referred to as "one of
his arms") and configured
the multi-tool at the end of it to remove each of the four screws holding the
grate in place. With his sub-primary manipular assembly (which organics
referred to as "one of his other
arms") he magnetically clamped onto the grate so that it would not fall
and strike the heads of the inattentive organic units below smoking some sort
of addictive contraband.
He slipped up into the shaft
and replaced the grate behind him. He spent a few more seconds replacing the
screws, and floated through the shafts to his objective. EM sensors located the
steady pulse of a massive power signature on the other side of the shaft wall.
Switching briefly to IR, he determined there were no organics or other
autonomous mechanical units in the room beyond. He deployed his
prime-quaternary manipular assembly, and activated a vibrosaw on the end of it.
With a high pitched whine, the saw sliced away a small section of the shaft
wall. It fell away and he slipped his manipular interface assembly into the
gap. On the other side of the wall, there stood a computer mainframe. Hiding
here, he could access it without being interrupted by organics.
He tapped into the security
menu and flung some codes at the system watchdog. He slipped into the secure
files with ease, and located the subsystems governing the launch bay. He
stifled a happy beep as he began deactivating security systems. As he did so,
he inserted a ping response that would make the computer think the systems were
still active.
He almost disconnected from
the system then, but remembered The Lal had assigned him another task. AyVee
enjoyed being given extra responsibilities.
*
"Are you sure this is the
way back?" Carth asked Bastila once more.
The young woman sighed
irritably and glared back at him. "Carth, for the last time: Jedi practice
meditation to improve our memory. With a little bit of time, I can recall
anything I’ve ever read or seen. So do please stop nagging, hmm?"
Carth shrugged and cast a
glance around the corridor they stood in. "It’s just that…well it looks
like we’ve been here before is all…"
"That has a large amount
to do with the fact that these corridors have a uniform construction, I should
think. Now, let’s keep moving, shall we?’
Carth nodded reluctantly and
followed her to a door at the end of the corridor. The door hissed open at
their approach and they stepped into a wide vast chamber that reminded Carth
very much of some sort of throne room. A great golden sculpture hung from the
ceiling; a series of concentric rings, each of which hung lower than the one
above it. Muted lighting oozed forth from each of the rings, casting a platinum
glow across the room.
"So, Bastila, I’ve been
wondering about something."
"Of course you have,
Carth…"
"I don’t like lying to
Lal, Bastila. She’s been straight with me, and I think she’s entitled to the
same respect from us."
"I understand your
concerns, Carth. But I don’t need to remind you she lacks the appropriate
security clearance…given she’s not even allied with the Republic!"
"Bastila, that’s just crap, and you know it…"
"Carth! Do you think,
perhaps, that this discussion could be shelved for a slightly more appropriate
time?"
"Alright, Bastila.
Fine."
"No time like the
present, I says," called a voice over a loudspeaker. Carth and Bastila
both unleashed their weapons and pressed their backs together. Doors opened on
each of the walls, and Davik’s muscleboys trundled in.
"Hell," Carth
hissed, staring at all the blasters aimed in their direction. "I guess it
doesn’t need to be said that we seem to be outnumbered…"
"No," Bastila
muttered back to him. "But why don’t you go ahead and say it anyway?"
"Alright, alright,"
Davik said, emerging from a doorway behind his troops. He gripped Lal roughly
by her arm, and her features were clenched in pain. Carth could see the blaster
wound on her shoulder had opened up and was oozing a clear liquid. Behind her
Canderous loomed in his armor. When Carth saw Lal's face, he knew the plan had
gone sour; Canderous! Damned Mandalorian. Carth silently promised that
Canderous would be the first to die.
"Looks like we got rats
in the maze," Davik chuckled, glancing at the short squat barrel of a man
to his right. "What do you think, Calo?"
The man glared at Carth and
Bastila behind a pair of dark goggles and sneered. "I definitely smell a
rat somewhere, Davik."
Davik smiled broadly and released
Lal. He leaned over and pressed a kiss against her cheek. "Well, honey, I
gotta hand it to ya: You do
deliver."
Carth frowned in confusion at
Lal. A sick feeling suffused his belly as she simply stared impassively back at
him. "Lal…"
"Sorry Carth," she
said, holding her sore arm. "I have my loyalties. Davik has always been
there for me."
Bastila whirled to face Lal.
"Lal, what are you talking about? I thought…"
"Basi, I don’t really
care what you thought," Lal told her sharply, shocking the Jedi into
silence. "Put your weapons down."
Bastila worked it out,
surfaced from her confusion and realized Lal's betrayal. "Lal…you must
know we will not surrender! This can only end in blood."
"Either way works for me,
sweetheart," Davik chuckled, sliding his arm around Lal's waist. "I’d
prefer to deliver you to the Sith alive, but I’m sure they won’t mind if you
come with a few holes in you."
"Lal," Carth called,
"Don’t do this!"
Bastila snarled angrily.
"She’s beyond our reach, Carth! She’s chosen her side!"
"Carth," Lal said
slowly, lowering her face, "I just wanted you to know something…you’re an
excellent lover…and for a brief time, I found some solace in your arms. But I’m
sorry…it was all a lie…"
Carth opened his mouth to
reply, but his brain stuttered. What the
hell was she talking about? She knew damned well that they had
never…Then he noticed Lal's hand, her injured arm, holding her palm flat above
the floor…a message?
Carth fought with his
instincts, warred with his intellect. He watched Lal's eyes widen at him, as if
urging him, commanding him silently…
And in the end, he did as his
heart commanded.
The lights went out, and Carth
threw himself over Bastila, hauling her to the floor beneath him. Shots rang
out in the sudden darkness, piercing the air above their heads.
"Hold your fire, damn
it!" Davik roared. "What the hell is goin’ on?"
Screams rang out on all sides
as Davik’s thugs continued to fire in panic, shooting each other in a
crossfire. Carth saw flashes of bodies falling in the flicker of blasterfire,
strobing in the darkness. Bastila struggled beneath him and started to call out
his name. But Carth clamped his hand over Bastila's mouth, and made himself
trust Lal.
*
As the lights exploded and
died, Lal issued a silent thank you
to her droid and promised to give him an oil bath. If any of them survived. Lal
actually hadn’t given much thought to surviving; it had ceased to be a priority
when she had been told
She dropped her hand behind
her and Canderous slapped a blaster into her palm. It was tiny hold-out model,
but would do the job. She blindly reached out beside her and chopped her hand
into the hollow of Davik’s throat. He staggered backwards with a gurgle, and
she shoved her blaster up under his chin.
"I would have been
satisfied to let you go your way, Davik," she hissed. "But you had to
push me."
"Bitch," Davik
hissed. "You lying, lousy piece of crap! You ain’t getting’ outta here
alive!"
"I wasn’t planning on it,
Davik."
He released a frantic gasp at
her words, and swallowed a dry lump in his throat. "Is…that…so?"
"Goodbye Davik."
"Wait…" he fumbled
desperately. "If you k-kill me…you’ll never know who you really
are…!"
"I’m a killer, Davik. A
devil who doesn’t deserve to live. I’m what you made me."
"Nah…n-no…I didn’t make
you, Lal…Sure, I…I used you, b-but I didn’t make you…you just don’t
remember…You didn’t lose your m-memory in any speeder crash…you never had
it!"
"What? What are you
talking about?"
"Heh…there’s the rub,
huh? If you kill me, you’ll never know…"
Her moment of hesitation was
exactly what Davik sought. His hand flashed over a switch on his wrist. A
flicker of blue light surrounded his body. Lal squeezed the trigger, but her
shot flashed harmlessly against and energy screen clinging tightly to his body.
"No!" she cried as
Davik shoved his elbow into her injured ribs. She gasped in pain and fell to
the floor. She fought through the pain of the impact and immediately rolled to
the side.
Davik whipped out a blaster
and fired where she had fallen. "You’re dead, Lal! Dead! Nobody crosses
Davik Kang! Nobody!"
Lal pushed up onto all fours
and spun around. She kicked her leg out in a low circle and swept Davik’s legs
from beneath him. He crashed onto his back and the blaster fell from his hand.
The energy shield he’d activated would protect him from blasterfire, but not from
kinetic energy. Lal leaped atop him and fired three lightning punches into his
side.
His body clenched in pain, and
she tried to pin his shoulders beneath her knees. Lal had the skill, but her
lean body didn’t have Davik’s strength. With a roar, he hauled her over onto
her back, slamming her against the floor. He levered himself atop her and
dropped his elbow deep into her chest. Pain exploded in her lungs, pressing the
air from her. He leaned in close to her and sneered furiously. "You’re
gonna die now, Lal…"
*
Calo Nord switched his goggles
to IR half a second after the lights died. He dropped to one knee and whipped
out his twin blasters to take aim at Lal Sideen. He found her whirling body
flashing and blurring faster than he could follow. Damn but she was fast.
Nobody was that fast. Nobody!
He tried to get her in his
line of sight, but she went down in a tumble with Davik. And then a voice
whispered in his ear…
"Hey, Calo…"
Nord whirled around to fire at
Canderous, but the Mandalorian slapped his blasters aside and stiff-armed Calo
right under his chin. Calo staggered back, his brain rattling around in his
skull. He moved on instinct, switching his goggles to UV as he palmed a heat
flare from his belt. He dropped it directly in front of Canderous and dashed to
the side. The flare exploded in a harmless shower of intense heat; anyone using
an infrared visor would have been blinded by it.
As Calo guessed, Canderous’
helmet visor was tuned into IR. The Mandalorian shielded his faceplate with his
hand and staggered backwards. Calo scanned about for his weapons, but couldn’t
find them. Cursing, he pulled a collapsed shock staff from his belt. With a
flick of his wrist, the staff extended five feet and crackled with energy at
the tips. He spun the staff expertly and jabbed one end into Canderous’ belly.
The shock hurled the Mandalorian several feet through the air.
"Good night, old
dog," Calo chuckled.
A mistake. Canderous sprawled
on the floor, blinded, but he flung a trio of tiny blades unerringly towards
the sound of Calo’s voice. Calo desperately twisted to shield his face and
throat, but the blades lanced into his chest and shoulder. He snarled in pain
and fell heavily to the floor. He could hear Canderous chuckling, the sound of
stones tumbling down a mountainside.
He chanced a glance over his
shoulder as he scrambled away from the man, and wished he hadn’t. Canderous
lifting his arm toward Calo, and a stream of flame roared from a nozzle on his
wrist. Calo screamed as the fire washed over his body.
"Dying time’s here,
Calo," Canderous laughed as Calo burned.
*
Canderous felt a decidedly
unprofessional wave of glee as he switched to Low Light inside his helmet and
deployed his flame thrower. He splashed the stream of fire over Calo’s crawling
body and emptied the jet of flame on him. Calo writhed and twisted and burned
and screeched shrilly. Canderous pulled a wickedly curved blade from the back
of his belt and walked slowly towards Calo. He lifted the blade high over the
burning man, but a body crashed into him.
Canderous snarled and grabbed
the man by the back of his hair. He tugged his head back and drew his knife
across the man’s throat. He kicked the gurgling thug away and turned back to
Calo. All he saw was a burning, empty coat.
Calo was gone.
*
Carth hauled Bastila to her
feet and the two of them stumbled in the dark towards a wall. Carth pressed her
forward, and felt along the wall for the doorway they had come through.
"Keep your head down," he hissed as blasterfire wildly cut through the
darkness. "Let these idiots kill themselves."
"Carth, if you do not
release me, I will make you," Bastila hissed.
"Bastila, dammit, we’ve
got to get to the ship!"
Bastila gathered her
telekinetic will and shoved Carth against the wall. Her eyes flashed
dangerously at him. "Do not
interfere, Captain Onasi!" She saw the sudden flicker of fear in his gaze,
and shame washed through her. Her face softened, and she reached a tentative
hand out to him. "Carth. Go. I will join you. I will finish this on my own."
Bastila whirled away from him
and leaped into the darkness.
*
Lal struggled to push Davik
from her, but he pressed in close and laid a kiss against her cheek.
"it’s been a great ride,
Lal," he chuckled. "You’ve
been a great ride…heh. I owe my success to you and your talents, Lal! I used
you like a--"
She levered her leg in between
his and slammed her knee into his groin. His body froze for a second and she
shoved him onto his side. She twisted her body and shoved her foot into his
face. She could feel his nose splatter beneath her boot. He screamed in agony
and she scrambled to her feet. She whirled around looking for a weapon, and saw
a vibrosword laying in the floor, splattered with blood. She dashed for it, but
his hand snared about her ankle. She crashed face-first into the floor,
smashing her forehead.
Stars flashed before her eyes,
and she distantly felt him crawling back atop her body. She stretched her
fingers out to grasp the hilt of the sword, but he hammered a fist into the
back of her skull.
He rolled her over beneath him
and levered his forearm under her chin, squeezing her throat shut. Lal gasped
for breath as he grinned down at her. With his free hand, he drew a knife from
his belt. He showed it to her, breathing heavily against her cheek, and then
drove it up into her ribs.
Lal's thoughts exploded in a
shower of crimson, and moist darkness clutched at her awareness.
"Now, you die…Jedi…" he hissed victoriously.
Jedi.
That’s what he said. He called
her Jedi. But why? What was he talking
about?
Lal opened her eyes without
realizing she’d closed them. His face seemed so clear and stark, even in the
darkness. She’d stopped breathing. There was no more air to draw into her
lungs. No more anger to fuel her fires. But there was heat. She’d imagined
there would be cold as she died, not heat. But there was warmth. A strange,
comforting warm that made her limbs light and airy.
It took no effort to lift her
arm, to press her hand into his face. To stab her thumb into the soft orb of
his eye. Distantly, she heard a man scream. Through a fuzzy haze, she saw Davik
flip onto his back and writhe wildly about, clutching his face.
Lal felt hands tugging the
knife from her chest. She glanced down and saw that they were her own hands,
painted red. Her vision blurred into a sheen of red, and when her eyes cleared,
she saw herself holding the dagger before her face. It, too was red.
She then realized that she was
standing. She stumbled. Onto her knees. Wetness coursed down her belly, onto
the floor. Her hand slipped from under her, and her vision blurred once more.
When she could see again, she
was mounted upon Davik’s chest. He squealed and churned between her thighs. His
face was painted red too. Her hands commanded her. They grasped the knife together
and slowly, laboriously thrust downward. The skin of his throat tore like ripe
fruit. His blood sprayed her face and arms, and he gasped breathlessly. His
body shuddered beneath her and went still as she felt the blade strike into the
floor below him.
She glanced down at herself
and collapsed to the side. Everything went black. And in the distance, she
heard someone humming.
Lal! Lal, it’s time to get up!
We have to go! You have to wake up! You have…to…wake…up…
Canderous snarled contentedly
as he sent of volley of fire tearing into the belly of a screeching Weequay.
Canderous swung his heavy blaster around and fired another volley, walking the
shots across the floor into the back of a fleeing Twi’lek. Out of the corner of
his eye, he saw Bastila swinging her odd lightsaber, chopping down Davik’s men
with ease. He despised Jedi in general, but there was no denying their style.
He didn’t put much faith in the Force, but the Jedi certainly tapped some power. And there wasn’t much that
could stand against a lightsaber.
Except, perhaps, the will of a
Mandalorian Hunter.
Perhaps one day, he would find
himself crossing swords with that girl. And then, he would see what he would
see. But for now, she was an…ally.
So Lal wished it, at least.
He suddenly realized, as he
cut down another thug, that he had no idea where Lal was. Bravely, she had
taken Davik himself. As it should be, of course. The woman’s honor was as great
as any warrior he’d ever known. But Canderous suspected she had come here to
die. So be it, if that was her fate. But Canderous knew he would stand with her
if it came down to it. Death would be glorious today.
Then, he saw her, laying on
her back. His brow furrowed beneath his helmet and he dashed to her side.
Kneeling down, he cradled her head. He could see she was in terrible shape;
dying perhaps. A few feet away, Davik had been pinned to the floor by the knife
in his throat. Impressive kill. Very impressive.
"Lal," he called,
pulling his helmet off. "It’s Canderous. You’re badly injured, but you’re
not dead. Do you hear me, woman? You yet live. You will live. But you must stand! Do you hear?" He slapped
her face and her eyes snapped open. They rolled to stare at Canderous, but he
could tell she did not see him. "Damn," he hissed.
"Get away from her!" Bastila charged
forward, her features twisted in fury.
"Calm yourself,
Jedi--"
In response, she swung her
lightsaber at his head. Canderous sucked in a deep breath and knew he was going
to die beside Lal. But Bastila had stopped her swing less than an inch from his
face. The golden blade buzzed angrily in his ear and he lifted his hands
defensively.
"Calm yourself, Mandalorian. I will carry
her."
"Right…" Canderous
stood and moved away, wondering what was going on between these two women.
Bastila turned her lightsaber off and reached down to lift Lal in her arms.
"You know…she didn’t actually betray you…"
"Be silent!" Bastila
said, cradling Lal tightly to her. "Let’s go."
As they moved towards the
door, the floor rattled. Bastila frowned and glanced around "What
was…"
The ceiling exploded downward,
hurling a gout of fire into the room. Canderous shouted and pushed Bastila and
Lal through the door. The floor behind them twisted and shredded with a scream,
and burning shards of permacrete rained down into the gap.
"What’s going on?"
Bastila cried holding Lal tightly as they stumbled forward.
"What do you think? Shut
up and move!" Canderous pushed them forward down the corridor as distant
thunder shook the walls. They turned around a corner and continued running, but
a wall exploded inward, hurling debris across their bodies. Canderous grabbed
Bastila and Lal and shielded them with his armored body. He grunted in pain as
a large chunk of permacrete slammed into his ribs.
Canderous gasped and staggered
forward, but willed himself to ignore the pain. He dragged Bastila and Lal down
the hall and into an open doorway. Carth stood in the doorway waving them
onward.
"Come on!" Carth
screamed. "The Sith must be bombarding the planet! Move! Aw, dammit…"
Carth grabbed Lal's motionless body from Bastila's arms. This time the young
Jedi did not argue. "The ship is prepped for launch," he told them,
and headed at a brisk run across a broad empty stretch of floor. Before him,
the Ebon Hawk loomed like a giant avian hunter, perched with wings stretched
forward, ready to leap into the sky. Its powerful muscular form stood strong
against the cascade of girders and debris from above. Carth led them to the
open access ramp, set to the left of the jutting bridge module. They were met
at the top of the ramp by Zaalbar and
"Sickbay!" Carth
yelled at Zaalbar, handing Lal to the Wookiee. Zaalbar moaned in agreement and
dashed off to the center of the ship. Carth and Canderous and Bastila rushed
through the twisting corridors of the ship to the bridge. Carth jumped into the
pilot’s chair, huddled before the wide view shield of the bridge. He reached up
to flick a series of switches and the ship rumbled. Bastila slid into the
co-pilot’s seat across a bank of equipment and control from Carth. She pulled a
headset on and strapped herself in.
Behind them, Canderous held on
tightly to the back of Carth's chair. "And a fond farewell bid to the
shining shores of Taris," Canderous murmured.
Carth kissed two of his
fingers and gripped the control waldoes. He tugged back slowly on them, and the
deck tilted as the Hawk leaped from the floor of the launch bay. Maneuvering on
repulsorlifts, Carth spun the ship around in a loose circle, aiming the blunted
nose towards the main launch doors.
Bastila glanced furiously
around her control panel. "Bay door controls! Where are they?"
"No time," Canderous
grunted. He reached over her shoulder to flick up a red safety switch. Beneath
it rested a red button. On her display, she saw an icon shaped like a missile
turn red and grow to fill the screen. Canderous pressed the button with his
thumb and a streak of white fire screamed out from the port wing of the ship.
The concussion missile sank into the surface of the bay door and crumpled it
with a flash of light. A shock wave sent tremors rumbling through the body of
the Ebon Hawk and the door blew outward in a spray of torn durasteel.
"Good to go," Carth
muttered, goosing the thrusters. The Hawk lurched forward, peeling through the
opening. Another orbital blast jarred the entire estate and the top edge of the
doorway bent downwards, scraping the dorsal armor. The glancing impact jarred
everyone inside the ship, but Carth shoved the Hawk out into the sky.
Once free of the bay, they
could see the entire cityscape burning as great streaks of red lightning
stabbed down into the clustered towers and Arcologies. Zooming by high above
them, wings of swollen-bellied Sith bombers dropped their whistling payloads
into the streets of Taris. The detonations bloomed in vast circles or orange
fire and molten air.
"Sons of Mandalore,"
Canderous whispered under his breath reverently. "It’s glorious…"
Carth glanced back at
Canderous incredulously and shook his head. "Maniac. We’re out of
here." He leaned over to speak into the commlink, "AyVee, jack in to
the main computer and start broadcasting that code sequence! Let’s hope this
works," he muttered to Bastila and Canderous. "Otherwise, this is
gonna be a short ride…"
Carth yanked back hard on the
control waldoes and jammed the thrusters wide open. The Ebon Hawk sliced
upwards through the wispy clouds and ripped through the thin atmosphere. The
sky around it faded from icy blue to coal black. As the ship left Taris
hurtling away beneath it, Carth cut in the ion drives. The exhaust vents at the
rear of the Hawk flared with blue flame and the ship stood upwards, pressing
several Gs. Bastila activated the Inertial Dampeners, before the Gs could squeeze
the crew into paste.
"There," Canderous
grunted, pointing through the view shield. Flickering silver against the black
curtain of the void was the wickedly curved blade of the Leviathan. The Sith
flagship rained down sheets of crimson fire upon the planet from its hundreds
of turbolaser batteries. Where those blasts sliced across the belly of the
planet, the blue surface burned orange.
"Malak is on that
ship," Bastila murmured softly, hugging herself tightly.
"Just relax,
Bastila," Carth said. He glanced at a warning light on his control panel.
"Uh-oh. Picking up a massive energy signature…We’re being scanned. I’m
activating shields…"
"Do that and those codes
will be a waste," Canderous warned. "The Eradicators have probably
locked onto us. If you activate those shields, they’ll ignore the code
transmission, and start shooting."
"Dammit," Carth
growled, "and they’ll just punch through the shields any-damn-way."
Canderous nodded. "You
got it, ‘Public."
"Alright. No choice. But
it won’t be long before those Sith ships pick us up on their screens. This had better be the fastest ship in the
sector…"
Canderous grinned.
"Scared, ‘Public?"
"You’re damn right I’m
scared, Mandalorian."
"Good. Fear makes a man
smart."
"Force preserve us,"
Bastila gasped, pointing. "It’s massive…"
The first Eradicator platform
loomed into view, hanging like a spindle at a tilt. The top of the massive
automated station was shielded with a gleaming silver half dome. The body
extended beneath the dome like a slender sword blade. Bristling from the lower
end was a cluster of cannons, swiveling to keep a lock on the Hawk.
Another one appeared off the
starboard bow, some ten thousand kilometers distant. And then another, further
away. More of them flickered in the distance like diamonds trapped in orbit.
"There are so many,"
Bastila gasped. A warning light caught her eye and she tapped a control. A
display popped up on her control screen. "Oh no. We’ve got company. I
think it’s a…a Hyperion-Class destroyer…"
"Fast attack picket
vessel," Carth noted. "Short range turbolaser batteries…squadron of
snubfighters, if I recall correctly…"
"Can we outrun it?"
Bastila asked.
"Yeah. But those fighters
can swarm all over us. Bastila, get those hyperspace coordinates punched into
the computer. Canderous, get on the dorsal quad."
Canderous gave a nod and
dashed to the center of the ship. The access ladder to the dorsal cannon was
directly across from the modest little sickbay, and Canderous caught a glimpse
of Lal's body stretched out on a biobed, her breasts painted red. Zaalbar
huddled over her, his furred arms slathered in Lal's blood.
"Is she…dead?"
Canderous asked. But as Zaalbar turned to snarl at him, Canderous could see
Lal's lips moving. But her skin was ashen. Canderous cursed to himself and
hauled his body up the ladder to the cannon control bubble.
*
She sat in a class full of
children; they were all clad in brown tunics and sat quietly while a tall man
in black robes stood at the front with a pointer. A holographic display of the
Galaxy glowed before him; the display sparkled with a bright cluster of
holographic stars around the equator. The man, a teacher, pointed to various
stars and the children called out the names of the stars in turn.
The teacher nodded and then
pointed to another star. No one knew the answer. She glanced around at the rest
of the children, waiting for someone to speak. But no one did. Finally, she
called out the name, Ison.
The teacher nodded, and she
smiled despite the rules.
*
"They’re getting really
rather close, Carth," Bastila said in a tiny voice. Her eyes were locked
on the tactical screen, displaying four Sith snub fighters swooping towards
them.
"We’re still not outta
the woods, Bastila," Carth growled back. "Just focus on those
coordinates."
The Ebon Hawk zoomed past
another Eradicator, and Carth breathed a sigh of relief. But he kept his eye on
his own tac-scanner, marking the relative position of the Hyperion destroyer
and the wing of fighters. The fighters would easily close to attack range in
less than two minutes.
Bastila unstrapped herself and
moved to the navcomputer mounted behind the pilot’s station. She accessed the
ship’s navigational records and called up the numbers for Dantooine, where the
Jedi Council was located. She had to enter the ship’s current course and
relative coordinates, and then the relative coordinates of Dantooine. Although
general coordinates were relatively small numbers, hyperspace travel forced a
requirement for immense specificity. The human mind was generally incapable of
calculating more than three or four dimensional coordinates, especially when
those numbers changed slightly depending on the oscillation of hyperspace
fabric…
Bastila hated calculating
hyperspace routes. She’d never been good at it, even in the academy.
"We’re almost
clear!" Carth told her.
"That’s good,"
Canderous responded over the comm, "because here they come!"
The four Sith fighters
unfolded their weapon foils, snapping them out into attack position. They broke
off into pairs and swarmed over the Hawk. The first pair went high and the
second went low. The dorsal Quad cannon opened up, churning forth powerful
blasts of concerted energy. The lead fighter rolled over the blasts, but his wingman
swam directly into their path and crumpled in a globe of fire.
The lead fighter triggered his
cannons, strafing the spine of the Hawk. Tiny explosions gusted forth where the
blasts struck the surface. Carth flipped the Ebon Hawk into a barrel roll and
opened the ion throttle wide. Canderous snapped off another brace of shots,
clipping one of the fighter that had tried to go for the Hawk’s belly. It spun
away from the Hawk in a wild spiral, crackling with energy leaking from a
breached drive core.
"Two of the bastards
down," Canderous growled.
*
She watched as the little boy
grinned wickedly and clutched the stolen holocube to his chest. Behind him a
little girl cried. "You’re not supposed to have these anyway!" the
boy accused gleefully.
But the little girl continued
to cry. Her mother had sent the holocube; on it was a recording of a birthday
party her parents had thrown for her, even though the little girl was absent.
"Give it back to
her," She said resolutely, balling her tiny fists before the little boy.
"No!" the boy
shouted back. "Why don’t you…"
She hauled back with her
little fist and knocked the boy senseless. He started to cry. She plucked the
holocube from his grubby fingers and stomped over to the little girl.
"Here. Hide it."
"Lal!" one of the
teachers cried out in alarm. "Come here this instant!"
*
Canderous pulverized another
one of the fighters leaving only a single one buzzing over the Ebon Hawk in
wide circles. Carth was finally able to bring the shields on-line as they cleared
the
But a new problem emerged
twenty thousand kilometers to port. "Sith interdictor moving into this
quadrant!" Carth announced. "If he gets a lock with those gravity
well projectors, we’re as good as dead!"
"Then don’t let
him," Canderous spat back over the comm.
"Thanks for the
advice," Carth hissed back. He then saw two full squadrons of snubfighters
sailing towards the Hawk from the bays of the interdictor. "Great. Who
invited these guys? Everybody hold on, it’s gonna get a little rough…"
The Ebon Hawk’s engines pulsed
with might and hurled the ship forward at a blistering velocity. Carth angled the
deflector screens to front and blew through the formation of snubfighters. The
tiny fighters broke ranks as the Hawk ripped past them. Canderous chopped down
two of them as they whipped by.
The interdictor cruiser fired
a shot from her turbolaser batteries, and the beam lanced across the underbelly
of the Hawk. "Relax, no damage," Carth called out. "They just
want us to stop by for a cup of tea…"
"Almost got it,
Carth," Bastila told him, her fingers flying over the keyboard.
*
"That was behavior unbecoming
a Jedi, young Padawan," the teacher told her. Her tiny legs swung as she
sat in the huge chair. She poked her lower lip out defiantly and shrugged.
"Those boys were wrong.
They shouldn’t say things like that when they’re not true,"
"Perhaps. But it is not
your place to punish them for it. The Jedi does not seek vengeance. Only
justice."
"I di’nt hurt
anyone," she protested.
"But you could have,
young one. You abused your training. And for that, you must be punished."
*
"There!" Bastila
cried, leaping back into the co-pilot’s chair. "That’s it! Punch it!"
Carth reached forward to grab
the hyperjump throttle and yanked it back. His stomach seemed to drop about
five feet and the stars outside the view shield warped into a thousand
streaking lines of white fire. Hyperspace ripped open and they dove in, leaving
normal space light years behind them. The starfield collapsed into a boiling
tunnel of blue light, and Carth sat back from the controls. He ran a hand
through his hair and turned a worried glance to Bastila.
She did her level best to
ignore him, adjusting control settings on her panel.
Carth sighed and shook his
head in disbelief. "You’re not even gonna talk about it are you?"
"A Jedi does not give in
to emotion, Carth. The mission is completed and there’s nothing left to
discuss."
"Bastila…"
"I said I do not wish to
speak of this!" Bastila told him curtly.
"Fine," Carth
growled. He pushed up from his seat and stormed off the bridge. He passed Lal's
droid in the main computer room, where it was happily chirping and beeping a
conversation with the computer. He made his way to the ship’s sickbay and saw
Canderous and
"How is she?" Carth
asked.
"I think she’s
stabilized," Canderous said, staring at
Carth nodded and laid a
comforting hand on
"Oh, enough!"
Canderous snapped, making
Carth put
"I call it like I
see--"
Carth hammered his fist into
Canderous’ jaw, stunning the big Mandalorian and dropping him to the deck. He
lifted his hands before him in a fighting stance, waiting for Canderous to get
back up.
Canderous just looked up at
him and started laughing. "I bet that felt good, eh, ‘Public? Heh. You
people just don’t get it, do you?"
"What are you talking
about, Canderous?" Carth demanded.
As he picked himself up,
Canderous snorted. "Heh. You’re weak, little girl. That is a truth. But
the thing is; you have a choice. You can remain weak, remain a liability…or you
can become strong. You can keep crying and weeping and moaning. Telling yourself
you are less than nothing. That’s an easy thing to do. Or you can strive to be
something better than you are. That, little girl, that is hard." He picked
himself up and shook his head. "Now…that woman in there…she may well be
dying. And yes, it’s due in large part to you. You can choose to simply bleat
and moan, or you can choose to honor what she has sacrificed for you. Anything
less is a waste of time. Are you always going to let others fight your battles
for you? Like this stripling of a Republic dog?"
"Canderous, if you
like," Carth promised, "I can always put you on your ass again…"
"Well, you could
try," Canderous grinned, beckoning him forward.
Carth curled his lip
scornfully and waved his hand. "You’re not worth it, Mandalorian."
"Heh, well, certainly
not, if you can’t afford it," Canderous chuckled.
"You just be careful what
you say to
"Ah. That’s right. Keep
rushing to her rescue, ‘Public. Keep her weak. Keep her reliant upon your help.
Or Lal's help. Tell me, Carth, is
that simply how you’re wired? Or does the Republic program you to be that
way?"
"Could you two st-stop
fighting for one d-damned minute?" a weak voice coughed hoarsely.
"Lal!"
Lal stood in the doorway of
sickbay and leaned heavily against Zaalbar. She clutched a blanket around her
chest, and her bare skin was smeared dark red with blood. Bruises darkened her
face and her lips were swollen and split. Her right eye sported a purple
shiner, and she let her hair fall before her cheek. She nodded at
"Forget abut it,
Zaalbar howled warningly at
her and shook his shaggy head.
"Hell," Lal groaned,
rolling her eyes. "The Carpet slapped an auto-respirator on me…keeping my
lung inflated. He doesn’t want a sonic shower disrupting the seal…"
"Lal," Carth said
with a frown, "we’re gonna have to have a little chat. But right now you
should be in bed."
"Oh, we’re going to chat,
Carth. All of us. But first, I want you to take the ship to Tatooine. We’ll be
safe there."
"No," Carth shook
his head. He folded his arms over his chest and went on. "We need to go to
Dantooine. We’re already on route. It would take us…weeks to divert to
Tatooine."
Lal stared at him for a
moment. His gaze was implacable and unrelenting. She chuckled sourly. "You
know, you’re quite adorable when you’re being stubborn." She pushed off
from Zaalbar and slowly, stiffly walked down the corridor to the central rec
area. She glanced around with a scowl and leaned against a table. "Where
in…where is the bloody fresher? I have to pay a visit on the gents, as they
say…"
"Hold on a bit,
"Sure, Lal. Listen, I
meant what I said, y’know…I’m just so glad you’re okay, Lal…"
"
"I…um…okay…I guess you’re
angry…I mean, you totally should be…! I was stupid…it was unforgivable…But I
wouldn’t…I mean…I…I love you, Lal…I’m so sorry you got hurt because of
me…"
Lal finished up in the fresher
and slid the partition back. "
"
"I know w-we’re not
sisters, Lal…of c-course…I mean…sure…B-but I just thought that…"
"Well you thought wrong,
A tear streamed down
"Yes, Mission. That’s how
I feel."
Lal leaned against the
bulkhead behind her and closed her eyes tightly. I’m sorry I hurt you,
Besides, Lal needed to be able
to focus. She couldn’t do that while worrying herself sick about a Twi’lek,
who, by all rights, should have been able to take care of herself.
Lal turned and glanced down a
corridor to her right. Thinking she’d heard something, she headed up the
corridor. It slithered up the spine of the ship and led to the humming bridge.
Lal peered in and saw Bastila sitting in the co-pilot chair.
"Lal," Bastila said
in a cool greeting, turning her head slightly.
"Bastila," Lal
growled in reply. "There are some things you need to tell me."
"Is that so?"
Bastila sighed, pretending to attend to her controls. "Don’t you think you
should be resting instead of bothering me?"
"Oh, I can see you’re
quite busy."
"Alright," Bastila
relented. "What is it you wish to talk about?"
Lal staggered forward, her
chest aching. She leaned against the navcomputer and glared at Bastila with
fiery, hooded eyes. "You know who I am."
"Of course. You’re Lal
Sideen. Mercenary cutthroat and assassin."
"No. You know who I
really am. I didn’t know what it was the first time I talked to you…but now,
I’m sure of it. You know who I was…before…"
"I don’t know what you’re
going on about."
"Did the Jedi teach you
to lie? Didn’t do a good job of it. Don’t treat me as if I’m a fool. I’m far
from it. Here’s what I know: you and Carth came to Taris on a secret mission.
Something of great importance to your little war. Carth was very clever, but
I’ve dealt with all sorts of men who’ve had secrets. I know how to read them.
You were desperate to keep your mission a secret. Not only from me, but from
the Sith."
"Hmm. Perhaps I was concerned
you’d attempt to sell us out to your master, Kang. Oh wait…I was right, wasn’t
I?"
"Oh, come off it,
Bastila! You’re a bloody grown-up. If you cannot see that what I did was the
only way to protect
"Alright. Granted.
And…thank you…But your mistake was in not trusting Carth or myself with your
plan."
"No. That doesn’t fly
with me, Bastila. You know better. How could I trust you if you didn’t trust
me? And you didn’t. You still don’t. You’re upset because I used you? I’m fine
with it. I used you to save someone I care about. And we all got what we wanted
in the process; a way off the bloody planet. I used you, yes. But you used me
as well."
Bastila shot to her feet and
whirled to face Lal. "I used
you? Exactly how do you figure that?"
"You used me to find a
way off the planet. Plain and simple. That’s fine. But you cannot go crying
about getting the tail when you’ve been playing someone for an ass."
"I…excuse me?"
"What?"
"’Getting the tail’? What
exactly is that supposed to mean?"
"Er…damn it Basi! You
know what I mean!"
Bastila's face turned pale,
and she turned swiftly away from Lal.
"Now what?" Lal
cried.
"That name…" Bastila
murmured softly. "You called me ‘Basi’…"
"Did I?"
Bastila sighed heavily and
stepped out from her station. Concern melted the ice of her features. She
walked over and tentatively extended a hand to Lal's face. Gingerly, she cupped
Lal's cheek. "Lal…look at you…you’re all bashed up…"
Lal frowned in confusion, and
her back stiffened. "You suddenly care?"
"Of course I care…I
wasn’t going to leave without you, Lal."
"You…it was you carrying
me…I thought it was Carth…"
"Carth took over. I would
have collapsed, I was so tired." Bastila folded her arms across her
breasts and sighed. "Alright, Lal. You…I suppose you deserve the truth. I
didn’t…tell you because…well, I was sworn to secrecy by my oath as a Jedi
Knight. And to be fully honest…it’s the Council’s place…"
"Bastila, please! If you
know who I am, you have to tell
me!"
"Alright. I was sent to
Taris to rescue an ally of both the Republic and the Jedi Order. A Jedi Knight.
This Jedi…had fought in the Mandalorian Wars…her
contributions were…without measure. Though the Council never sanctioned the
war, she was a hero. Her efforts…her strategies helped to save the Republic
from the Mandalorian menace. And, before she left the order to fight the war,
she was also a great…a legendary Jedi. She was truly gifted, Lal."
Lal stared at Bastila for a long
moment. A strange vibration hummed in the pit of her belly. She tried to speak,
but her voice cracked and dissolved into silence. She cleared her throat and
tried again." I…I see…And how did she come to be…to find herself on
Taris?"
"We weren’t entirely
sure. After the war, she retired--"
"’Retired’?" Lal
cried. "What do you mean, retired?
How old was she?"
A smile drifted across
Bastila's face. "Older than she looks. But still the most beautiful woman
I’ve ever known."
Lal pulled back from Bastila's
touch and glanced away. "So she…retired…"
"Yes," Bastila said,
lowering her hand. "She wanted to live a quiet life after the hell of the
war. She had purchased a modest cottage in the countryside on Dantooine. She
had a garden. A lovely garden, too. But…we don’t know the specifics, mind
you…she was attacked. A surprise attack. Somehow, she was taken unaware, and
was kidnapped. The man who kidnapped her sought to use her talents to aid him
in his despicable line of work. Somehow, he managed to wipe out her memory of
everything she knew or was or did, and he turned her into…into a weapon…"
"Bastila…oh, Bastila,
there must be some sort of mistake. You see, I’m not a…a Jedi. I couldn’t be.
I’m just a normal woman."
"
"I…no. I don’t believe
it. I don’t…I can’t believe it."
"Davik took you from us!
He wiped your mind and perverted your skills, turned you into a criminal…a
killer! It is…it’s the worst form of rape,
Lal."
"No."
"After I spoke with you
the first time, I knew it was you! You had changed; your hair was longer…your
fashion sense had become a bit more…risqué, but I knew it was you."
"There’s something more,’
Lal said, "something you’re still not telling me…"
Bastila smiled. "Your
feelings serve you well, Lal. More proof."
"Tell me, Bastila! Who am
I to you?"
Bastila lowered her gaze.
"I…shouldn’t be telling you…any
of this, Lal…we…we grew up together. You were a few years older than me. We
were close. And we always argued…"
Lal laughed despite herself.
It slipped out unbidden. "Of course we did. That hasn’t changed, at
least…"
"No. It hasn’t. You are
very dear to me, Lal. And that’s probably why…why I’ve been so hard on you.
What Davik did to you…it hurt me as well as you."
Lal glanced away from Bastila
and shook her head. "I don’t…I don’t think I can deal with this…Is my real
name…Lal Sideen? Or is that completely different, too?"
"Your name is…Lal.
Yes." Bastila stepped forward to touch Lal's arm. Her brown eyes flicked
down at Lal's bruises and scrapes and scars. "Do you
recall…anything?"
Lal shook her head. "No.
No…yes…maybe…I think I dreamed…when I was out."
"I thought you might
have. I believe I felt it."
"Felt it? Oh wait. Of
course, you’re a mind reader."
"Only when necessary.
Technically, you are as well. The intuitions you have about people…they usually
are spot on, are they not? You read people so well it’s almost as if
you’re…reading their thoughts? Your mind may have forgotten what you are, but
your body has not. It remembers, Lal. And…you can remember as well…"
"No."
"In fact, you must!" Bastila whispered fiercely.
Her eyes flickered back and forth as thoughts warred in her mind. "I’m
likely overstepping my bounds with the Council…But, Lal…you are needed. The
Republic needs you."
"Me? I don’t
understand."
"In the Mandalorian Wars,
you fought alongside Malak. And…Revan. Before they turned to the Dark Side. You
knew their strategies better than anyone. If there’s anyone who can help win
this war, Lal, it is you. The Council knows this; they will wish to speak with
you. But Darth Malak…he knew…knows it…as well. Before Revan died, he and Malak
began to systematically murder all the Jedi who served with them during the
war. They knew too much, you see. Of them all, only you survived. You
remained…hidden on Dantooine. When you were taken from us, the Council
initially feared Malak had killed you. But Malak…he didn’t know you had
survived. If he had known, and caught you while you had no memory of yourself,
his victory would have been complete. And so the mission had to remain
secret."
"But…if what you’re
telling me is true, I’d pose no threat to the Sith. I have no bloody
memories!"
"Oh, Lal…Malak couldn’t
possibly know this. And even if he did, he couldn’t afford to accept it at face
value. You’re too dangerous to him. No. He would have tortured you and then
killed you."
"Basi…Bastila…this is too
much for me. An hour ago…I was…all I wanted was to…to make a place for myself,
doing what I know best to do. Now, you lay this madness in my lap. Bastila…I’m
not the person you think I am. Even if I am…I’m
not anymore…"
She turned away from Bastila
and left the bridge, walking stiffly, leaning against the bulkheads for
support.
"Lal!" Bastila
called.
"No…I need to rest,
Bastila. I’m sorry. I…I can’t help you."
Space was a vast void.
Composed of endless parsecs of black nothing, bubbling with a distant radio
hiss, it gathered stars and worlds in tiny luminous clusters connected by the
taut strings of gravity. Before the discovery of hyperspace more than
twenty-five thousand years ago, there was no Republic; there were no space
lanes or trade routes. There was only the daunting emptiness. In those days,
physical and thermodynamic law intruded on the desire to conquer the galaxy.
Journeys to nearby stars took hundreds of centuries; devoured the reaction mass
of primitive fuels too greedily to be practical.
Hyperspace changed that.
Centuries became years and years became months. Twenty-five thousand years
later, hyperspace was still scarcely understood. Theories held that it was some
sort of parallel dimension in which the laws of nature did not fully apply.
Time and distance were not the same there. Mass and inertia became flights of
fancy. It was believed that hyperspace constantly shifted in ways that could
not be reliably predicted. And so, as ships traveled within it, distances were
always approximations. The first hyperspace scouts and explorers mapped out the
most efficient routes through it, connecting known stars and populous systems.
This maximized the benefit of hyperspace, but still didn’t completely eliminate
its uncertainty. And for every system and star linked through this cosmic
roadway, there were a thousand more, untouched; ignored on the very edge of
explored space. Without efficient routes mapped and pinpointed, journeys
between such distant systems were fraught with many delays and hazards.
So it was that the journey
from Taris to Dantooine took nearly a week to complete. During that time, the
Ebon Hawk seemed to grow smaller and smaller to her new crew. Carth quickly
assumed command, and was uncontested in this, due to his experience as a pilot.
And no one seemed to care much, anyway. He and Canderous adapted to the boredom
the easiest; both men were long accustomed to extended trips in space. Carth
and Canderous tended to scrape against one another; they had been enemies in
the Mandalorian wars. But they had, perhaps, the most in common of anyone on
the ship. Canderous and Carth initially agreed to inventory the stores on the
ship, checking for supplies and gear. After they found the cache of weapons
stowed in the cargo bay, Canderous spent most of the flight breaking down and
cleaning those weapons and reassembling them. Carth turned his attention to
system maintenance and managed to completely overhaul the Ebon Hawk’s Deflector
systems.
Bastila accepted the journey
with a placid serenity, resolving to spend her days in meditation and
reflection. But Lal's response to her revelations had not sat well with the
young woman, and her thoughts were plagued with anxieties and fears about the
Council’s possible responses to her indiscretions.
Lal did her level best to
avoid the company of the others as her wounds healed. This proved difficult,
given the closeness of the quarters. But Lal managed it by throwing forth a
cold glare whenever she was thrust into the presence of someone else. She
didn’t want to talk to Bastila again, and she didn’t want to entertain
speculation about the quickness of her recovery. Halfway through the week, Lal
noticed that the wound in her middle had all but closed beneath the bandages,
and she managed to breathe without coughing up blood. Before long, Lal found
she was able to engage in the calisthenics routines she often practiced to
remain limber and build her stamina. During these routines, she allowed AyVee
to hover close-by; his whistles and beeps and digitized nonsense squeezed the
troubled thoughts of her background from her mind.
As the ship neared its
destination, Lal found herself on the bridge, staring out at the bright blue
whirl of hyperspace. Carth walked in, gave her a silent nod and took his seat
at the pilot station. Lal moved to leave, but decided against it. She sat down
in the co-pilot’s chair across from Carth and gazed silently out of the armored
canopy.
"I suppose," she
said suddenly, "that once we land, you’ll be going your own way."
He glanced over at her briefly
and shrugged. "I suppose. I’ll probably head back to Republic HQ to return
to normal duty. And I suppose you’ll be heading to Tatooine to handle
your…business affairs."
"Carth," she asked,
"did you know?"
"I…I didn’t know anything
until Bastila told me." He remained silent for a bit as he checked his
status boards and read-outs. Glancing back over at Lal, he continued, "I
didn’t exactly know if I believed it. Still don’t know. I was…I was in the War
to the very end. I never met…er…you…Of
course, there were around a hundred Knights or so who broke off and followed
Revan into battle."
A frown wrinkled Lal's brow.
"I don’t…understand…I thought…"
"That Revan and Malak
were born evil? Nah. They were Jedi, once. Heroes. Heh. Heroes…"
"I…no. What I was
trying…what I mean to say was…you said they ‘broke off’…what did you mean by
that?"
Carth sighed and ground his
jaw. She could almost see the anger building up in the tautness of his muscles;
the tensing of the flesh along his temple. "The Republic was…all about the
war with the Mandalorians. They…they didn’t want an open conflict, mind you,
but when open war broke out, they didn’t hesitate. The Mandalorians would have
burned a path all the way to Coruscant. The Republic had no choice but to take
them on. But the Jedi…they thought differently. Nobody really knows why. Except
for the Jedi, I reckon. Revan felt differently. Revan went head to head against
the Council on it; they wouldn’t get involved, so Revan decided to go it alone.
Revan was always a maverick, from what I’ve been told. But Revan had friends
who felt the same way about the war and the Mandalorians. All of them defied
the Council to help us…to lead us…in the war. Without Revan, without Malak and
the others, the Mandalorians would have torn us apart. Revan didn’t just fight
the Mandies. They broke them apart. Mentally, physically…morally. I
remember…the final assault…we were flying over-watch for a ground
assault…tearing nap-of-terrain through the dense jungles…my squadron was tasked
with taking out missile stations and artillery batteries…ground armor, that
sort of thing…The Mandalorians had fielded a platoon of Basilisk Hyper-Mobies.
Nasty things…"
"Hyper-whats?"
Carth had drifted into
mil-speak jargon without noticing it. He visibly fumbled for the words she’d
understand. "Uh…Hyper
"Well," he
continued, shrugging his shoulders, "Revan lead a squad of Jedi against
this platoon of Basilisks. Damnedest thing I’ve ever seen…well…aside from you
killing that Rancor…Those Jedi tore through those Basilisks like they were made
of wet tissue. They cleared a path for the ground troops to take the
Mandalorian headquarters. Meanwhile, Revan had put Eradicators in planetary
orbit to keep the Mandie leaders from escaping. Any of them who resisted…we
slaughtered them. They gave as good as they got, sure. But by that time, it was
a lost cause for them. Revan…and Malak…they turned the tide. We carved a ten
kilometer wide trench right through the jungle, Lal. To this day, nothing grows
in it. We laid our mark on their world. Revan singlehandedly fought and killed
their generals, in front of all of our troops. Showed them all who had the big
stick. That was what broke their spirit for fighting. Revan knew that, unless
the Mandalorian spirit was broken, they’d always be a threat."
"Sounds like you said…a
slaughter…"
"It was and it wasn’t.
The Mandalorians made a special alloy called Mandalorian Steel. Very rare. But
it was able to resist the power of a lightsaber. Made the fights almost even
odds. But I’ve never met anyone who could face down a Jedi in a fair fight.
Like I said, Revan fought all the generals alone. Everyone just stood by and
watched. Hundreds of thousands of troops, both Mandalorian and Republic. If
Revan hadn’t done that…the Mandalorians would have fought to the death. It
would have been genocide. We would have still won, but a lot more Republic
soldiers would be dead. It was a civilized choice, but some say it was the most
ruthless choice of all. Because, like I said, we did more than just beat the
Mandalorians; we broke their souls. Crushed their spirit and scattered their
race to the solar winds. We…we destroyed an entire race without killing them.
Revan did that."
"And…Revan…and me…we did
this…and the Jedi never took us back…?"
"Well…the Jedi are all
about redemption, Lal. Those who truly sought redemption were embraced. But,
the Republic was out of it by then. Revan and Malak…they refused the Redemption
the Jedi Council offered. They didn’t feel they’d done anything wrong."
"Did you?"
"Did I what, Lal?"
"Did you feel they were
wrong?"
Carth lowered his chin and
scowled in thought. "No. Maybe…aw, hell…I don’t know. Lal, I hate to say
this, but if you’re looking for philosophical depth from me, you ain’t gonna
find it…I’m just a flyboy stick-jockey who knows a little bit about soldiering.
That sort of debate…I’m not qualified for it. And damn, it seems like every
time I open my mouth about right and wrong, somebody’s there to smack me back
down."
She glanced away, knowing that
she’d been the one to smack him down at least once or twice.
Carth sighed and flipped a
switch. He leaned forward to check a series of scrolling numbers on a tiny
display and unlocked the safety armature for the hyperspace throttle.
"Coming up on Dantooine. We’re gonna be jumping out of the pipe
soon." He turned to stare at Lal's face, then. "Why did you…uh…why
did you…"
"Come to chat?"
"Hmm…yeah. Trying to jog
your memories?"
She shook her head. "I
can’t remember a thing, Carth. Only a few strange dreams…Actually, I just
wanted to talk to you…about what I, um…did at Davik’s place…"
"Yeah. I was a little
sore about that, Lal."
"I wanted to say I’m
sorry…"
"Forget it, Lal. I know
what you did and why you did it."
"Oh. You…you’re pretty
upset…?"
He glanced away from her and
chuckled sourly. "Not really. I did some thinking about it; I reckon you
did what you did to keep us from getting killed. And even if you didn’t, Lal, that’s what I’m gonna believe.
Understand?"
She closed her eyes and
nodded. "Yes. I understand, Carth…"
"That way, Lal, we can
make a break of it…cleanly…and go our separate ways."
She shifted towards him in her
chair and offered a hopeful smile. But he didn’t look at her. "Do we have
to…to go our separate ways, Carth? I mean…You and I…we’ve been through a lot,
and I was…well…"
"Lal…"
"No, wait, let me finish.
I…the two of us…we…dammit, this isn’t usually so bloody difficult for me…"
"Lal, listen…I don’t know
what in the hell is the deal with this…this Jedi thing. Bastila sorta pulled
the carpet out from under me with that one. But in any event, my mission is
over. Command’s gonna reassign me. And the Jedi have plans for you."
"What if my plans don’t
involve the Jedi, Carth?"
"Not my business, Lal. It
really isn’t."
She sighed and lowered her
head. "Carth…I’m just saying that…maybe, before you…leave, we could…"
"Lal, here’s the thing:
you’re a tourist."
"Excuse me?"
"You’re a tourist, Lal.
You don’t care about what’s going on. It doesn’t matter that you’re some sort
of…Jedi warrior, or whatever you are. You don’t care. There’s nothing to make
you care. Davik hurt you so badly that you just don’t care about
anything."
"That’s not true."
"Okay. Whatever. You
care. Great. Let me guess what you care about, Lal: you probably care about
clearing up this amnesia thing, but not as much as you care about setting up
your own smuggling and contraband business…yeah, I chatted with Canderous…You
care about
"She…she’ll be safer away
from me, Carth! Being around me is…it’s too dangerous for her."
"Again; whatever. Tell
yourself whatever you like. You don’t have to convince me, only yourself."
Lal shook her head and turned
a confused frown at Carth. "Why are you talking to me like this, Carth?
I’ve done more for you and
"You’re absolutely right,
Lal. If it hadn’t been for you…we’d still be on Taris, burning with the rest of
its inhabitants."
"I…what, are you blaming
me for what the Sith did? That’s simply insane, Carth…"
"I’m not blaming you,
Lal. There was nothing you could have done. No way any of us could have known
Malak would do that…just to kill one person. But here’s the thing, Lal…you’ve
got the skill, and the experience…aside from all this Jedi nonsense…you’re a
fighter. You know how to win. And that’s something the Republic needs. You’re
needed, Lal, do you understand that? You’re needed. But do you care? No. You
only care about Lal."
"How dare you, Carth! You
don’t know what I’ve had to endure! For the past three years! A life of utter
slavery! Killing…the…the other
things I’ve had to do…And I didn’t have a choice! Is that something you can
possibly understand? And if what Bastila told me has any shred of truth to it,
I’ve already done my bit, haven’t I? Why, I’m a bloody war hero, I suppose!
I’ve fought just as much as you have, in your precious Mandalorian war! I’ve done
my part for the bloody galaxy, Carth, and I’ve paid for it. My…my very bloody
identity is gone! Replaced with this, this
person that I wake up to every morning, that I don’t even know! How
dare you! How dare you judge me? What have you suffered, Carth? What have you
lost to justify this pedestal upon which you so confidently stand, preaching
from your bloody pulpit?"
"What have I
suffered?" he snarled viciously, surprising her. "Oh, let’s see. Not
much, really. Just my family. Just my entire
family, Lal! When Revan and Malak returned from wherever in hell
they went, they came back with a real mad-on. And a fleet unlike anything ever
before seen. They began blazing through entire systems, Lal. Oh, you didn’t
know?"
"No, Carth…I
didn’t…"
"Well, that’s what they
did. They were Sith, now. Seduced to the Dark Side. If you don’t happen to have
a clue what that means, let me spell it out: try ‘evil’. Try ‘psychotic’.
Nobody really knows what their goal is…aside from wanton destruction. Death on
a galactic scale…Taris wasn’t the first planet they raped. Not by a long shot.
But there was a first. Telos. My home! There was no warning…there was no
reason. Telos had no tactical significance. They came in with the Leviathan
leading the way, and they bombarded my home for three days straight. That’s all
it took, really. After the first five hours, our cities and settlements were
destroyed. Our infrastructure was crippled. But they kept at it for three days.
They turned the surface into ash, Lal. Millions died. Not soldiers, mind you;
women and children. My wife. My son. He…Dustil would have been almost the same
age as
Carth trailed off into silence
while Lal sat there. Her entire body tingled; her muscles were trembling. Rage
had filled her, burned within her, but now, it flooded right out of her,
leaving a cold chill. She felt tears welling in her eyes. Tears. It took her a
moment to realize she was crying.
"Tears," Carth said
in a gravelly whisper. "I was able to cry once, too."
"Carth…I didn’t…I didn’t
know. I’m sorry. I feel terrible…"
Carth glanced at her,
suppressing a snarl that curled at the corner of his lips. He released a sigh
and closed his eyes. "I know," he said quietly. He turned to face her
in his chair and stared deeply into her eyes. "But that’s the problem,
Lal. You feel. You didn’t know. It’s always about you. That’s all you know how to care
about. I suppose that’s not your fault, and I shouldn’t be angry with you.
You’re just not…built to care, are you? Maybe once, but not anymore."
"Carth…"
"Maybe you should stay
away from me from now on, Lal. Every time I look at you…it…I…just please, stay
away from me."
The tears rained down Lal's
cheeks, now. She had never felt such a flood inside of her. Or perhaps she had
and simply couldn’t recall. She tried to speak, but her words disintegrated
into a blubbery mess. And words would no longer serve anyway. She pushed up
from the chair weakly, unsteadily. She placed a hand against the bulkhead for
support and staggered off the bridge.
She navigated the corridors of
the ship stiffly, feeling the pain from her wounds. She wanted to go to someone
and just cry. To be held. To be understood. But she’d never had that before.
She’d never needed it before.
*
The Ebon Hawk slashed into
normal space, trailing streaks of silver light that strained to catch up. The
ship’s sublight Ion engines cut in with a blue flare, hurling the Hawk towards
Dantooine’s distant sun. She sliced in-system, speeding past the massive golden
and lavender gas giants lacing the outer orbit of the star system. She slipped
through a thin asteroid belt with her navigational deflectors screen shoving a
cloud of frozen stones from her path. The Hawk rushed past a series of sensor
buoys designed to monitor in-system traffic. Soon Dantooine arose before the
Ebon Hawk, and lounged in the sun’s white glare. The verdant surface of the
planet sparkled like an emerald and the Ebon Hawk swarmed across the midnight
terminator, where the emerald became onyx. The ship coursed over the nightside
surface of the planet and picked up two tiny guests.
Rising on threads of
quicksilver, two delta shaped Sweep-Wings burned their sublight drives to leap
up to meet the Hawk. The twin fighters unleashed their stubby attack foils and
placed sensor locks on the Hawk.
"Those are Jedi
ships," Bastila announced, now sitting beside Carth on the bridge.
"I noticed," Carth
replied. "They’ve got a weapons lock on us. Paranoid, aren’t they? Set up
a commlink, will you?"
Bastila leaned forward and
activated the commsystem. "This is Commander Bastila Shan on board the
Ebon Hawk, requesting permission to enter Dantooine air space. I repeat,
Commander Shan aboard Ebon Hawk."
A voice crackled in reply from
the comm. "Commander Shan, it’s good to hear your voice. Fine ship you’ve
got, there. Be advised, Ebon Hawk, descend to suborbital, relative two-five-oh
angel and maintain on a course zero-seven-five by three-five. We’ll walk you
in."
The two fighters eased along
either side of the Ebon Hawk as she descended into the silver clouds. The ships
swept out from the terminator and back into daylight just as morning ignited
the clouds with sparks of gold. They continued to descend, and stabbed through
the underbelly of the clouds. Far below, the rolling green hills of Dantooine
glistened with morning dew and seemed to gleam to the crew of the Hawk. Distant
mountains, painted blue and purple by the morning sun, stirred from their
slumber, and a flock of manta wings rushed up in a glittering cloud to try and
pace the three ships.
On a distant plateau, the Jedi
Enclave stood squat and low, languishing in the morning chill. Composed of soft
round angles, the compound rolled across the surface of the plateau and
appeared to have been grown directly from the grassy rock.
Carth maneuvered the Ebon Hawk
over the surface of the Enclave, cutting in the repulsorlifts drives to hover.
The ship spun around in a lazy circle as a pair of bay doors cracked open. The landing
thrusters fired, dropping their downward momentum, and the Hawk slowly sank
between the bay doors into a golden plaza ignited by the morning light. The
landing struts gently touched the hard packed soil of the tarmac and clenched
to take the weight of the Hawk onto their shoulders.
Great gouts of steam fired
from the belly of the ship as her heat sinks dumped energy gathered from
friction against the atmosphere. When the heat dissipated, the Hawk lowered its
landing ramp. Several figures in brown and gray robes waited in the vast
docking plaza.
Carth came down the ramp
first, followed by Bastila and Lal. Lal found the sunlight harsh and sharp
against her eyes. She squinted in the vorpal glare of the morning and held a
hand up to shield her eyes. Behind her came Zaalbar with a relieved howl. He
was more than happy to step out of the Hawk’s cramped belly.
One of the robed figures
stepped forward and peeled his hood back to reveal a pair of pale green lekku.
He was an aged Twi’lek; the spurs above his brow bulged with his advanced
years. He cast his pale amber gaze over the crew of the Hawk, lingering on Lal.
Then he turned a smile upon Bastila.
"Master Zhar,"
Bastila smiled warmly, inclining her head slightly.
"It is good to see you,
Padawan," The old Jedi replied. "When we heard of Taris’ fate, we
feared the worst."
"These are my companions,
Master," Bastila said. "Captain Onasi you already know, of course.
This is Mission Vao, Zaalbar, Canderous Ordo and…Lal Sideen."
Zhar nodded politely to them
all, but rested his gaze on Lal. "It is a pleasure to meet you," he
told Lal. "A pleasure to meet you all. Bastila, the Council must speak
with you immediately. Your friends will be provided accommodations here at the
Enclave should they wish to rest."
"Excuse me," Lal said,
stepping forward. "If you are Jedi, I would like to speak with you…"
"As I’m certain we
will," he said in a voice as smooth as a summer breeze. "However,
other matters take precedence for the moment." He laid a hand on Bastila's
shoulder and together, with the two other robed Jedi, he drifted away across
the packed ground to a corridor that lead down into the ground.
Lal watched them go and
suddenly realized she had no power and influence on this world. Her status with
Davik meant nothing to these Jedi. They neither feared nor respected her. But
since Davik was dead, she supposed it made no actual difference.
"You’ll get used to
it," Carth told her. "When the Jedi want you for something, oh,
they’ll find you."
*
It had been quite a long time
since Lal had showered with water instead of sonic waves. The sensation of
water striking her body in a thousand tiny explosions was exhilarating. She
found it utterly exquisite the way water ran down the channels and curves of
her body in whispering rivulets. As soon as she could, she’d have to try an
actual bath. The wet shower didn’t make her feel quite as scrubbed as a sonic
shower, but this felt more natural, like bathing in a rainstorm.
Lal turned off the water and
stepped out of the shower. She spent several moments toweling her flesh and
hair dry and stepped into the bed chamber. She swept her damp hair back over
her shoulders as she pulled the downy covers back from the bed. She was about
to climb in when she stopped and turned.
Canderous sat in a chair by
the door, wearing only his blue and gray fatigues. He watched her with narrow,
appraising eyes, and irritation tightened her lips. She considered covering her
nakedness, but there was really nothing within reach. Of course, Canderous
would have expected her to chose modesty in his presence. So, instead, she
stood there before him, folding her arms across her breasts.
"They don’t knock on
Mandalore, I take it?" she asked.
"We do, but I decided not
to. Why are we here, Lal?"
Lal sighed and walked past him
to get a glass of water from the Dispenser in her room. She took a drink and
propped her hand on her hip. "Well, I’m here to get some sleep. You’re
here—and I’m merely speculating—you’re here to get yourself a free peep
show…"
"It is hardly my fault
that you’re always in some state of undress when I come to speak with
you."
Lal almost found herself
laughing. She had to look twice to make sure Canderous wasn’t giggling, in
fact. "Was that…was that a Mandalorian joke? A bit of sociopathic
humor?"
"Heh. Contrary to what
you may have been told, Lal, Mandalorians do
have a sense of humor. Behold: a Mandalorian, a Corellian and a Weequay walk
into a bar…"
"Stop."
"Oh, you’ve heard that
one? Indeed. So, a naked Twi’lek walks into a bar carrying a Kushiban under her
arm…"
"Canderous, you’re bloody
killing me. Could you please stop this?"
"As you wish, Lal. But
again, I must ask, why are we here? These Jedi…I do not trust them. Unless you
maintain your guard, Lal, they will be your undoing. I have seen it happen."
Lal was reminded of Carth's
words, of the battle between Revan’s Jedi and the Mandalorian high command. Of
course, Canderous was probably there at that battle. "Canderous…I don’t
know what to tell you…I simply don’t. These people…they…they seem to have the
key to…whatever I might have been before Davik…had
me…I must learn what they know, Canderous. I have little choice in the
matter." Lal finished her glass of water and sat down on the edge of the
bed, facing away from Canderous. "That does not mean you must stay here,
of course. The burdens of my past need not be shouldered by you. You have been
a man of your word, of course, Canderous….and I must say, I have been…quite
fortunate to have worked with you…"
"Bah. We make a good
team, do we not, Lal?"
"Well…yes, but…"
"Well then. And I reckon
you will need someone skilled at killing Jedi to watch your back should these
dogs become treacherous."
Lal sighed. She couldn’t help
but be a little irritated. As much as she tried to divorce the destinies of other
people from her own unknown fate, it seemed she would never be free to make
choices that didn’t in some way, affect other people.
"Canderous, I was curious
about something: do you like women?"
"As with all things, it
depends on the woman in question, Lal. But if you mean to get rid of me by
insulting my manhood, it won’t work…"
"I’m not insulting your
precious manhood, Canderous. This
is the second time you’ve had me vulnerable and at your mercy; I would have
expected a big strapping man such as yourself to have sated his lusts and so
forth…"
"Heh. My composure
insults your womanhood, then. I see. Of course, I am a highly desirable
warrior, Lal…But I’m afraid, where you are concerned…it simply wouldn’t work
out. Though it is true you are indeed quite lovely…I’ve got better things to do
than have you slit my throat in the midst of a passionate
moment…heh."
Lal could keep a smile from
slipping over her lips. The Mandalorian did have
a sense of humor, it seemed. "You’re a credit to your gender, Canderous
Ordo."
"If I had a credit for
every time a naked woman has told me that…"
Lal chuckled and crawled under
the covers. She laid her head against the pillow and nestled into the warmth of
her bed. "Canderous, do be a dear and shut the light before you leave. And
please knock next time."
"Of course. Sleep well,
Lal. And do not dream."
*
Malak sat cradled within his
meditation chamber as Admiral Karath entered his private quarters. He kept his
broad back to the Admiral and replaced the respirator against his shattered
face. It clamped against his ruined jaw and cheeks with a hiss and a click. He
glanced over a massive shoulder at the man.
"Report, Admiral."
"The commander of the Victorious reports that he has been unable
to track the ship’s ion trail, My Lord. However, from the sensor logs of the
encounter, we’ve been able to tentatively identify the ship as the uh, Ebon Hawk, Lord Malak. It is known this
vessel is owned by one…Davik Kang…a petty gangster and lowlife. Prior to our
arrival, the Ebon Hawk has been
involved in several incidents allegedly linked to the Exchange. Nothing has
been proven by Republic courts, however."
"Indeed…"
"My Lord, from all
accounts, it would appear that Kang, or one of his employees used the ship to
evade our Eradicator Platforms, and then managed to escape the Victorious and her fighters."
"No, Admiral. Bastila was
on that ship."
"Er…My Lord…it appears…highly unlikely that such was the
case…"
"Bastila was on that
ship. I have sensed it. There is no doubt, Admiral. And…and there was…another…"
*
Revan stood in shadow, clad
in a suit of gleaming silver armor that seemed to drip with its own light.
Revan, the renowned Master Jedi who’d strode across the galaxy, protecting the
innocent, bringing the guilty to justice. She couldn’t see Revan’s face,
guarded behind a smooth chrome mask, but she knew the Jedi well enough.
She glanced around in the
darkness and wondered why Revan couldn’t see her. The Jedi’s attention was
focused on something else, something that began to flicker within the darkness.
She watched as well, seeing a glow of pale blue light splash across the murky
darkness. She heard Revan gasp in surprise as the blue light shaped itself into
an eldritch sphere. A deep hum rolled across the black chamber, and she felt it
settle deep in her belly. A chill fell over her, and unzipped a pocket of fear
in her chest.
Revan seemed to notice it
as well. The Jedi reached out tentatively to caress the surface of the sphere,
but pulled back.
And then,
…Lal woke up, her heart
pounding in unreasoning terror. Sweat had plastered her dark hair to her brow,
and soaked her sheets and pillow. She glanced around desperately, certain she
was not alone in her room. She sat up, straining to hear anything beyond her
own frantic breathing.
"Canderous?" she
croaked fearfully. "Is th-that you?"
"It’s me, Revan,"
Malak replied, reaching out to hold his friend’s heaving shoulders. "What
is it? What did you see?"
"Something…terrible,"
Revan gasped, pushing Malak’s hands away. "Something…something dark…"
"Revan, I don’t
understand," Malak sighed. He glanced around the black chamber they stood
in and then looked back at Revan. "What is it?"
"Don’t you feel it,
Malak? This place? Stretch out with your senses…"
Malak closed his eyes and
lowered his recently shaven skull. Without his full shock of red hair to hide
them, the tattoos carved into his skull spoke volumes of his childhood as a
slave. Revan saw the young Jedi’s face begin to tremble; he sensed it.
"The…the power of this
place…Revan, why didn’t we notice it before?"
"Other concerns,
Malak. Other concerns. The Council’s foolishness."
Malak nodded. "Yes.
Yes, of course. But that leaves us with a problem, Revan. We cannot remain
here. Clearly. Not with this…this presence, can we?"
Revan sighed and nodded.
"I’m forced to agree, Malak. This place is…strong in the Dark Side. We
must leave and reseal this place so no one stumbles across it."
Malak glanced around
uncertainly. Though he towered over Revan with a massivel frame forged from
years of long labor, his youth showed; even though he was already a powerful
Jedi, he was little more than a boy. But, his decision, his decision to follow
Revan, that made him a man.
"Where will we hide,
Revan? There is no place on Dantooine we could possibly hide from the Council
if not here…"
"We will simply have
to be fleet, and we will have to be smarter than they are. As long as we don’t
make any more mistakes, we should be fine until the Republic ship arrives for
us…"
Malak nodded, but his handsome
face betrayed his nervousness. "And this place?"
Revan glanced around and
sighed, placing a gauntleted hand upon Malak’s broad shoulder. "We must
forget it even exists. Even though the Council has failed us, we still have a
responsibility to protect them."
After Lal had finished her
shower the next day, she found new clothes laid out on her bed. She held up a
tunic of Durosian polyfiber; it flickered gently in the light, shifting through
a subtle range of color from a muted sand to a pulsing yellow. She slipped into
it, and the polyfiber adjusted immediately to her form, fitting her perfectly.
It was nice enough, given the only other clothes she had were torn to shreds
and soaked in blood, but it seemed rather like something Davik would have
bought for her. The length wasn’t exactly modest, and revealed much of her
curved thighs. It left her arms completely bare, and she had recalled a chill
in the Dantooine air.
But she also noticed a pair of
long black gloves, bracers, really, that left her hands uncovered. And beside
them a matching pair of boots. She sat down she shoved her feet into them, and
pulled the boots all the way up her thighs.
Definitely something more to
Davik’s tastes than her own.
Better than striding about
naked, but only just.
Lal stepped out of her room in
the Jedi enclave and went outside. From the height of the sun, she guessed it
must have been afternoon, which meant she had slept quite a good deal. But she
felt anything but rested. There was an odd tremor in her jaw, a tightness in
the muscles along her shoulders. Nothing she could put her finger on. But her
nerves were jittery, like she had just gotten out of a fight.
She entered the plaza that the
Ebon Hawk rested in, and saw
Zaalbar towering over a food kiosk where a Quarren threw up pungent clouds of
steam from a pan of stir-fry. Every so often Zaalbar barked out cooking
instructions, drawing a scowl from the Quarren chef. Not far away,
The smiles fell as Lal
approached.
"You look like you saw
the same ghost Bastila did," Carth remarked. "Didn’t sleep well? Bad
dreams?"
"Um…yes…"
Zaalbar glanced over at them
and barked sharply.
"What message?" Lal
asked the Wookiee.
"Bastila came out and
all…ordered us to tell you the
Council wanted to talk to you and junk,"
"Yeah," Carth said.
"The Council wants to see you."
"Well," Lal
murmured, her eyes lingering painfully on
*
Inside the Jedi Compound at
the Enclave, Lal found herself standing in a broad, rounded plaza, lined with
trees that reached their dun-colored fronds towards a domed skylight. Native
grasses hemmed in a slab of permacrete set up with stone benches. A massive
twisting tree dominated the center of the plaza, looming above the ground. The
muted earthen paneling seemed designed to dull the passions; to inject calm
into the troubled mind. Lal supposed it probably worked most of the time, but
her mind was a bit more troubled than most.
A young woman stood waiting by
one of the benches. Her hair was pulled tightly back into an uninspired queue,
and her athletic figure was wrapped in the customary brown robes Lal had seen
the Jedi wear. The woman turned her sharp, severe face towards Lal and took a
step in her direction.
"I was told to expect
you, Lal Sideen," the Jedi said in a crisp and curt voice. She glanced
down at Lal's clothing with a disparaging eye. "The Council awaits
you."
She immediately turned and
walked down a side corridor. Lal wondered if she was supposed to follow. It
seemed likely, but the young woman certainly wasn’t disposed to waiting. Lal
followed her path and caught up, deciding to engage the woman in conversation.
"The, uh…décor is really…soothing, isn’t it?" Lal pointed out.
When the woman didn’t respond, Lal rolled her eyes and mumbled, "quite
mind-numbing. So…what’s your name?"
"I am
"Oh. Of course. Occupied
by what, if I might ask?"
"Right. Sorry.
Waiting." Lal wondered if the woman had been talking to Carth.
Lal came to a stop before the
assemblage and glanced around. Beside her,
"Honored Masters,"
Bastila began reverently, "this is Lal Sideen, the…the woman who assisted
my escape from Taris."
"Greetings, Lal
Sideen," the tiny alien said in a voice that made Lal think of curdled
milk. "A pleasure it is to meet you. I am Master Vandar." He gestured
to his right, to the brown-skinned human, "Master Dorak, and Master Vrook.
I believe, encountered Master Zhar you did. Aware we are of what Bastila told
you. A mistake it was."
Lal glanced at Bastila, and
had a brief moment of hope that this was all one big mistake. But the dread
inside her did not lessen any. Lal opened her mouth to demand some answers, but
immediately thought better of it. She was certain these old beings would speak
in their own measured time, and no one else’s. And, as if measuring her, Vandar
nodded.
"Hmm," he grunted
sagely, deciding whatever he had decided about her. "Bastila's words to
you were true, yes. But…premature were they. Better it would have been had we
discussed this matter with you. Hmm. Unavoidable it was, I suppose," he
continued, eyeing Bastila briefly. "Unlikely that you would have come with
her…if told you she had not."
"Unavoidable, yes,"
Master Zhar agreed. "But…it is good that you have returned to us, Lal. You
have been sorely missed. Yes."
Bastila could not contain a
loving smile at Lal. "You are among friends, Lal…among…family…"
Lal nodded, thinking at first
Bastila was merely speaking in metaphor. But then, it dawned on her; the same
hair. The same eyes. The same stilted inflections when she spoke…
"Bastila…what are
you…saying…?"
"You know it, Lal. You’ve
known it since we first met," Bastila said.
"No. That’s just not…are
you telling me you’re my…sister?"
"Well do your feelings
serve you, Lal," Master Vandar nodded in approval.
"I didn’t tell you
because…well…" Bastila fished for the proper words.
"Because I would have
accused you of lying," Lal supplied.
Bastila shrugged and nodded.
"Yes…In your dream, Lal…the little girl? That was me. You were protecting
me. Do you remember?"
"Of course I…how did you
know what I dreamed? How could you know that?"
Vandar spoke up with a grunt.
"Hmm. Strong in the Force the two of you are. Sisters. And Jedi. A bond do
you share. Always has it been so."
Lal nodded absently, trying to
accept what she was being told. But her mind raced with questions.
"We…what about our parents? My parents? Are they…Jedi? As well?"
"Our parents, Lal…no,
they are not Jedi. The Force is strong in our family, but we are the first to
ever receive training. You must understand…we were brought to the Academy when
we were very young. I was still a baby when you were first accepted to the
Academy. When I was of sufficient age, I was accepted as well."
"Are they…alive? Where
are they? What do they do? Have you told them…anything?"
"Lal," Master Zhar
said softly, "these are matters best left between you and your sister. For
another time. For now, there are other…more pressing matters."
"Other matters?" Lal
frowned. "What could be that important? For three years, I have been…I haven’t
known who I am! Now you tell me…I find out…I…I want to know everything! I
deserve to know!"
"Calm yourself,
child," Master Vrook growled harshly, scowling at Lal. "Such
outbursts do not befit a Jedi Knight. If…indeed, that’s what you are."
She stared at Vrook for the
first time, examining his gruff demeanor. He stared back at her with
undisguised distaste. "What do you mean by that? Am I a Jedi, or
not?"
"Without a doubt, you
once were," Master Zhar said. "But in these past three years, you
have been in the wilderness. Untethered to the teachings of the Jedi. Without
the guidance of the Council, you have…drifted from the path, Lal. Dangerously
far."
"Because of…what I have
done…" Lal murmured, her eyes drifting to the floor beneath her boots.
"Many have you slain,
Lal," Master Vandar said gravely. "Death is strong upon you. But also
have you been a champion of life. Sense the struggle in you we do. It is this
struggle, Lal, which win you must. For desperately needed…you are."
"You have dreamed again,"
Master Zhar announced. "We know this, because Bastila has shared your
dream, child. A dream of the past. Revan and Malak."
"I…yes," Lal
whispered. "Why…why would I dream about them?"
Master Dorak spoke up to
reply; "When Revan and Malak defied the Council in order to fight the
Mandalorians, you were among the Jedi who…who followed them. At the time, you
were stationed on Taris, handling a labor dispute that had erupted into
terrible violence."
"Yes," Vrook hissed.
"You abandoned your duties to join Revan and Malak. To make war."
"I don’t…remember,
obviously…but the war…it’s my understanding that Revan and Malak prevented the
Mandalorians from enslaving the entire galaxy. Why was that…wrong?"
"Well, Lal," Dorak
went on, "it was a complicated time in the history of the Republic. For
millennia, thousands of systems have sought the benefit of membership within
the Republic. Though a largely democratic body, the Republic can still be
technically classified as an expansionist power. An empire, if you will. Now,
the Mandalorians…they were also a race of conquerors. Like all conquerors, they
had an imperative to expand. Until the first few conflicts arose, due to vast
differences in technological advances…space travel, primarily, the Mandalorians
were largely contained within their own area of the galaxy. It was the Republic
that first intruded on their territory. They sent peaceful envoys, mind you,
but always with the intention of adding the Mandalorian territories to the
Republic.
"Well, of course, knowing
the Mandalorians as we do, they resisted," Dorak continued.
"Conflicts arose here and there; political maneuvering. That sort of
thing. It continued for many years, Lal. The Republic suspected the
Mandalorians were preparing a large offensive against Outer Rim systems, and
decided to counter this threat. The battle occurred near the singularity known
as Kalor Rim. It was the first shot that truly sparked the war."
Lal glanced at them all as the
old man fell silent. "I’m…sorry, but what has that to do with what Revan
and Malak did?"
"Well, Lal," Dorak
sighed, "the point of my…ahem, admittedly lengthy
overview of the war’s start was to show you that it’s really rather highly
debatable that the war would have even raged as heatedly and as long as it did,
had not the Republic engaged the Mandalorians in battle at Kalor Rim. I trust
you can guess why the Republic forces made this attack, Lal?"
She didn’t even need to think
about it. "They wanted to make the enemy commit prematurely, waste their
forces and show their tactical strength."
Dorak smiled and tossed a
crafty wink at Vrook. "Very good, Lal. You were always an apt pupil. Yes,
it was tactically sound. And the strategy might have weakened any other foe.
But the Mandalorians are nothing if not…tenacious. It only heartened them for
battle. It showed the Republic to be, in their eyes, a worthy foe. Instead of
eliminating the prospect of a war, the Republic actually fanned the fire. In
light of this, when the Republic came to the Jedi Council for aid, we initially
refused. The judgement of the Republic’s leaders…could not be trusted in this
matter. We had our reasons, of course. And we had a solution to the problem.
Our goal was to avoid the needless slaughter of billions which followed in the
course of the war. In the meantime, the Mandalorians did engage in wholesale slaughter. Jedi like…like Revan
believed that, while we were deciding what to do, people were dying needlessly.
Instead of trusting in the wisdom of the council, Revan acted hastily."
"War, Lal," Vrook
cut in sharply, "is always a matter of attrition. Where there is death,
there can be no true victory. When faced with war, the wise man does his best
to minimize the death which will
occur. Revan’s sensibilities held sway over logic. Though Revan’s actions saved
the Republic from Mandalorian rule, the number of deaths involved
were…incalculable. Revan’s actions never gave the Council a chance to try
another solution. One that would have spilled far less blood. It was foolish
and short-sighted. And, it had a side effect Revan did not foresee. The stress
of the war, the bloodshed, the straining of morality and ethics…it plunged
Revan on a course to the Dark Side."
"Hmm," Vandar
grunted. "Revan returned angry. Full of hate. War makes monsters of men.
While men fight, kill they must. Instincts they build. And well do these
instincts serve them on the battlefield. But these sensibilities, when war
ends, do not die so easily. Revan had become cruel. A…a beast. And so, shun our
aid, Revan did. And Malak too. Always the follower was Malak. Loyal to a fault.
Emotions guided him more than reason. Left the Inner Systems did those two, and
a handful of loyalists. Beyond the Outer Rim did they travel, and there, sought
dark truths did they. Dark truths. It is…no one truly knows the horrors they
did encounter beyond known space. But, when return they did, Revan and Malak
had embraced the profane ways of the Sith. And a great fleet did they
command."
"Several years ago,
Lal," Dorak said, "Revan’s fleet engaged the forces of the Republic
and the Jedi. A new Sith War began. And the Sith Lord, Revan, was all but
unstoppable. No one knew how Revan had built such a massive fleet in so short a
time. Within a few short months, they threatened the Core Systems, and Coruscant
itself. Worlds once thought unassailable now lay bare before the teeth of
Revan’s dark fleet; Alderaan, Commenor, even Coruscant. In a terrible battle on
the edge of the Koornacht Cluster, the Republic Fleet and the Sith fleet
clashed. We sent a special team of Jedi to infiltrate Revan’s forces, to engage
the Dark Lord in single combat and throw the Sith forces into disarray. This
was accomplished, Lal, largely because of your sister."
"Basi? I
mean…Bastila?" Lal asked. "Why?"
"Bastila has been gifted
with a rare talent, Lal," Zhar explained. "
"I…I remember…" Lal
murmured, recalling an old dream. "It was Bastila! And…someone
named…Jan…Janna? Her…her brother…Reeno…"
Bastila stepped forward and
gripped Lal's shoulder in surprise. "Yes, Lal! It…that’s a nightmare I
have sometimes…I still see it…like I’m still there…what else do you
recall?"
Lal glanced up at Bastila with
widened eyes. "You were there to kill Revan, weren’t you?"
Bastila swallowed and glanced
nervously to the Masters. "Lal…"
"Only you didn’t.
Couldn’t. Something stopped you…"
"Malak chose that moment
to turn on his Lord, Lal," Vrook said. "It is the treacherous nature
of the Sith. He wanted the power for himself. From his flagship, he fired on
the
Lal frowned at her younger
sister, her baby sister. Basi. A tear rolled down Lal's cheek and she held
Bastila's shoulders. "Wh-why wasn’t I there? I should have been there,
shouldn’t I?"
"Oh, Lal…"
"Lal," Zhar said,
laying a gentle hand on her shoulder, "had you been able, certainly you
would have been there. But…the war had not…left you well. You were…you were not
yourself.
"Oh," Lal whispered
softly. She could feel the room beginning to spin around her. Her head dropped
onto Bastila's shoulder and the younger woman cradled her skull to her.
"Masters," Bastila
said, "this is too much for her to hear now…she needs rest…time to--"
"We do not have time,
Bastila," Vrook cut in. "And you know this. Malak is now the Dark
Lord of the Sith. And his cruelties know no bounds. He has the same power Revan
once had, the power of an unstoppable fleet. He must be stopped."
Lal leaned on Bastila and
forced herself to focus. She gazed deeply into Bastila's eyes and saw herself
reflected. Her skin, her flesh. Her blood and bones and thoughts and feelings.
She saw her dreams, her nightmares. But all of this was clouded in darkness. A
veil she could not feel her way through. None of them could.
‘You need me to remember,"
she muttered in a broken voice. "But why? So I can fight a war
singlehandedly?"
"You are needed,
Lal," Bastila told her, cupping Lal's face in both her hands. "I need
my sister. And the Council…the Council needs the one Jedi Knight who knows what
Malak’s…and Revan’s secrets are."
"Sister," Lal said,
nodding weakly. "Yes…I can…I can feel it. Sister. Bastila…I don’t know if
I…if I’m up to this…"
"You won’t be alone,
Lal," Bastila smiled. "Will you at least try?"
"I…I will try,
Bastila…"
"Trying," Vrook
growled, "is insufficient. When you take a step along a path, you do not try. You either do, or you fall. It is that simple. A Jedi does not try,
Lal. A Jedi acts. When a Jedi acts, his course must be decided within the space
of a heartbeat. Is that understood?"
"I…I understand." Of
course she understood. It was how Lal had lived in the shadows of Taris for
three dark years.
Vrook narrowed his eyes at
her. "I wonder that you do."
"Perhaps," Zhar
interrupted, "perhaps Bastila is correct. Lal, please return to your
quarters to rest. We will reconvene in the morning at First Sun. Perhaps now
you should spend time with your sister."
*
"I don’t want to sleep
anymore, Bastila," Lal said as they stepped into the brassy afternoon
sunlight. "I don’t know what I want…I wish I could remember the things you
say. I can feel them…like they’re pushing at me…in a dark room or something…I
can feel them there. But I can’t…"
"Don’t worry about it,
Lal," Bastila told her. "Perhaps…maybe we should go for a walk, Lal.
For three years, all you’ve seen have been the shadows of Taris. You forgot the
planet where you were happiest."
Lal chuckled. "You said I
had a garden somewhere?"
Bastila smiled at her and
nodded. "We’ll need to rent a speeder."
Twenty minutes later, they
were coursing out of a hangar built at the base of the plateau; skimming the
grassy surface in a sleek Aratech late model landspeeder. Lal wasn’t sure, but
thought it might have been the A-31. It was a slim-bodied two-seater coupe,
with a tear drop taper that ran from the front to the pointed cowling at the
rear. Beneath the open rear cowling screamed a pair of oversized thrusters that
hurled the speeder faster than the wind.
Lal brushed a whipping strand
of hair from her eyes and watched the smooth, grassy slopes churn past. Once,
long ago, Dantooine had been shrouded in great mountains of ice, chained
together across the surface of the planet. Those frozen titans had carved great
scars into the land in the wake of their agelessly slow passage.
When the ice melted and formed
the shallow, low lying seas of Dantooine, great scoops had been carved from the
land in long, broad swaths. Mountains had been whittled away into rounded
stacks and lonely plateaus ruling shallow valleys and flattened bottoms. Broad
floodplains cut deep inland, and when the seas receded, rich, arable soil was
left in the waters’ wake.
Now the wide vales of
Dantooine were seeded throughout the year with tall grasses colored gold and
green. Squat towers of chalky white stone peeked up from the grass and short
canyons guarded ancient riverbeds, now run riot with tall grass and wild yellow
weeds.
Lal marveled at how open and
broad the plains were; unspoiled by the touch of durasteel and glass. She felt
almost naked within the lone speeder, cruising across the flat land, with no
towering skyscrapers or mountainous Arcologies to crowd away the sunlight.
Here, she could see for miles, and bask free and openly in the sun. The air
tasted moist with the unchained scent of living things, of vibrant fertile
soil. She could even smell water in the air, rushed across the lowlands from
the oceans, and unhindered by any mountains.
The plateau bearing the
Enclave fell swiftly behind them as they entered a series of low, broad
hillocks. Dotting the crests of these squat hills were low walled dwellings;
settlements of farmers and ranchers. Every so often, Lal would see
sophisticated communications relay towers blinking with crimson lights at their
crowns. And a few dwellings hosted landing pads for private ships atop their
broad roofs. But for the most part, Dantooine was free of the spreading virus
of man’s touch.
A half hour later, they
slipped into a small vale where a single dwelling clung to a gentle slope. It
was a single story building with long, low running walls that angled back
against the valley wall behind the house. A small landing pad stood at the top
of the slope, and stone stairs carved down from it to the house. Alongside the
house, in tiered terraces lay the garden Bastila had promised. Gardens, to be sure, since each terrace
held its own bed of bright yellow and red and lavender flowers. Bastila drew
the speeder along the base of the slope and shut down the engines.
"This is it," she
said, hopping out of the speeder and bouncing up a series of steps that lead to
the front door. Lal climbed out and followed Bastila up. The entrance was
sunken into the white walls, creating a break from the whipping breeze. Bastila
pressed her palm against a clear panel to the side of the door and it slid open
to admit them.
Inside, lights automatically
snapped on, running in tracks along the ceiling. Lal couldn’t see a single hard
angle anywhere in the house. The walls literally curved around them in gentle
arcs that made Lal feel like she was cuddled in a warm embrace. As she stepped
down into the sunken living room, she brushed a hand over the cushion of a low,
curved couch and knew she was home.
Bastila walked into the
kitchen and dialed up two glasses of fressa-flavored water. She came back out
to the living room and handed a glass to Lal. Bastila sank down into the couch
before Lal and kicked her boots off.
"I’ve always loved this
place," Bastila told Lal. Lal sat down, folding one leg beneath her and
let herself sink into the cushions beside Bastila.
"My apartment on Taris
was so…crowded…tiny," Lal purred. "This place is so…soft…"
Bastila smiled faintly as she
stared at the tunic Lal wore. "There are some clothes in your bedroom.
Something a bit more…or perhaps, less…"
"What’s wrong with this?"
Lal asked, glancing down at herself.
"Oh Lal, you look as if
"I like it," Lal
said defensively as her thoughts turned towards the Twi’lek that might as well
have been another sister.
Bastila chuckled and rose from
the couch. "Your thoughts betray you, sister."
"Alright," Lal
sighed. "Perhaps it does seem a bit…slutty."
"I’m sure
Lal leaned forward to tug her
boots off. Her gloves went next, and she hugged herself absently, glancing
around. She rose and walked bare-footed over the thick carpet to a shelf of
holodisks that dominated an entire wall. She looked over the titles on the
spines, noting that books on gardening rested next to studies on tactics and
history. "I suppose I must have varied interests," she murmured.
"What was that?"
Bastila called from down the hall.
"Nothing. I…" Lal
turned to an end table and saw a holopic. "I was just…talking to
myself…" She reached down and picked up the base of the holopic. The
crystal image emitter threw forth an image of a man and a woman, both smiling.
The woman held a tiny little girl with Bastila's eyes. An older girl stood
before the man, and wore a crooked smile. Lal touched her own lips, wondering
if that smile belonged to her.
Bastila came out from the
hallway, holding up two dark colored tunics. "This one is a bit more your
style. A tad more modest. But this one…well, you always liked to show off
your…" She laid the outfits on the couch and walked up to peer over Lal's
shoulder at the picture.
"Mother and Father,"
she said. "I think you were…four, maybe? Five? I don’t really recall. I
think it was taken right before they sent you to the Academy, so you couldn’t
have been more than six. I have no idea how old I was in that."
"How old am I,
Bastila?"
"I’m twenty-five,"
Bastila said, "so that makes you thirty, dear old lady."
"Thirty? That’s not
old!"
"Older than me is
old," Bastila told her.
"I’m guessing I also
tended to smack you a lot," Lal muttered.
Bastila just smiled and
flicked her eyes back to the picture. "That picture was taken on Ord
Mantell, as I recall."
"Is that where we’re
from?"
Bastila shook her head.
"We’re from…all over. Father
is an archeologist. Rather…he was. He was a professor at the University on
Coruscant. By the time I was born, Mother
had convinced him there was more money in treasure hunting. So, because of her,
we moved from planet to planet, always on the look-out for that next dig
site."
"Mother," Lal
whispered, staring at the pretty woman holding Bastila. "Tell me about
them, Basi."
"Not much to tell really.
You got your poor sense of fashion from mother. She was a socialite. Came from
wealth. Some corporate family. We were never allowed to talk about it because
they apparently disowned her for marrying Father. She was born on Kuat, I
believe."
"Are you telling me we’re
heir to the Kuat fortune?" Lal gasped. "That’s almost a death
sentence!"
"She was disowned,
remember? Shunned but safely removed from their corporate politics. But, she’s
always clung to the old trappings of her former life. Very materialistic woman.
Father, however…he’s a scholar. A genius. He was chair of the department at
University. Before we were born, he led the dig on Duros which uncovered the
connections between a series of ancient runic tablets scattered across the
Inner Core. He’s…he’s a great man, Lal."
"How…how do I get in
touch with them, Basi?"
"Hmm? How do you mean,
Lal?"
Lal turned a confused frown at
her sister. "I mean I’d like to see them, Bastila! Don’t you talk to them?
Don’t you have a way to contact them?"
Bastila sighed and sat down on
the couch. "Lal…this may be difficult to understand…"
"Bastila…are they dead?"
"I…no. I mean…I shouldn’t
think so…Lal, when a child is placed into the Academy, all contact with family
is…well…severed. You and I were a rare exception…"
"Wait a second,
Bastila…allow me to understand this; you’re saying you haven’t spoke to our parents….since you were six years old? Are you
joking?"
"Lal…a Jedi must not be
bound by emotional attachments. Emotional attachments cloud a Jedi’s judgment.
There is no emotion, Lal. There is peace. It is the very foundation of our
beliefs."
"Bastila…that…that
doesn’t make any bloody sense! You tell me I have a family, and then you tell
me I can’t have a family? That is
absolutely…absurd!"
"Lal," Bastila
reached out and took Lal's hands in her own. "The Jedi have these
disciplines for a reason. An important one. Emotion can lead to anger. Anger
can lead to hate. Hate is the path to the Dark Side."
Lal shook her head angrily and
tugged her hands free of Bastila's grasp. "Dark Side, Dark Side! I keep
hearing this! It makes no sense to me and you people are flinging it about as
if it’s some universal law that no one told me about! Revan turned to the Dark Side! Malak turned to the Dark Side! Is that the Jedi way of saying
they’re both complete nutters? Many men have become psychopathic lunatics and
there was less…less ceremony
involved in it! The Dark Side! What is that supposed to mean? You make it sound
as if they simply went to play for a rival team!"
"Men become seduced by
evil. By…the ease of killing. By the lure of power. You’re absolutely right,
Lal; it happens all over the Galaxy. It becomes easier to kill after you’ve
taken that first life. It becomes easier to steal after that first robbery. No
one disputes that, sister. But…how to put this…imagine a politician. He begins
his first term of office with a clear desire to do good for his constituents.
But he finds that there are, in the halls of power, certain ways to accomplish
certain things. In order to do the greatest good, he must turn a blind eye to a
minor evil. Perhaps he must bribe another official to accomplish his noble
goals. And there, the downward spiral begins. In order for him to continue his
work, he must find a way to stay in power. Perhaps more bribes. Perhaps this
time, he must intimidate another candidate out of the race. And by the time he
is re-elected, he has grown accustomed to doing things in that certain way. And
also by this time, maintaining his power becomes more important than using it
to help others. I’m sure you’ve seen this happen, haven’t you?"
"Of course, Basi. It was
business as usual on Taris." I often
helped them down that spiral…
"In the case of a
politician, or a corrupt constable, or a killer, their…seduction is a dark tragedy, yes. But they
will always be limited by the fact that…that they are still normal beings.
Without his office, the politician is a simple man. Without his badge, the
constable is a man. Without his knife, the murderer is just a simple person.
"But…a Jedi, Lal…a Jedi
is quite different. A Jedi learns to master the Force. He gains abilities that
no one else can know. With the Force, a Jedi could…could kill with a simple
gesture, Lal. He could change a man’s thoughts. A Jedi is rather more than some
soldier who is trained to use a lightsaber; he is…a being connected to the most
powerful of energies. A Jedi must be disciplined to use these abilities wisely.
For, if he is not…like all simple beings, he will abuse that power. And it
becomes easier and easier as time passes. But the power a Jedi can abuse…it can
destroy a Galaxy, Lal. And so it will be with Malak. Revan and Malak…they were
great Jedi. Compassionate, just, noble, brave. But they saw the suffering of
those the Mandalorians attacked and enslaved. They saw it and deemed it a
tragedy. They were correct. But they let their emotions get in the way of their
discipline. And because of this, they fought a war in which billions of people
died. And because they were led by their emotions, Lal, they found it prudent
to use savagery against the savagery of the Mandalorians. Savagery became
easier. And easier. Emotion led them along this path, Lal."
"Emotion didn’t led them
to evil, Bastila. That’s absurd. Emotion is…it’s what makes us…well…it connects
us. It gives us compassion…understanding for others! It binds us,
Bastila!"
"Listen to
yourself," Bastila smiled sadly.
"What? What’s
wrong?"
"You said these same
things once before, Lal. Actually, you said them quite often. But you told me
these words right before you left to join the war. It’s quite ironic, Lal. You
may not remember who you were, but every moment you become more yourself. Tell
me something: when you were still the assassin, the weapon of Davik, how would
you have viewed compassion? As a strength? Or as a weakness?"
Lal closed her eyes and
pressed a hand to her forehead. "A weakness," she sighed.
"The obvious love you
have for
"Yes. Mission…she is dear
to me. Fool girl that she is. And it’s damn well nearly gotten me killed. A
year ago…I wouldn’t have…allowed myself to feel anything for her…"
"Perhaps. But you have
always been so very full of love, Lal. You’ve never hesitated to protect those
weaker than you…It’s a virtue that shows you are truly my sister; the Jedi who
was lost to us. But like all things, that virtue must be tempered by
discipline."
"Maybe…I suppose,
Bastila. How can I argue? How can I defend myself when…when you already know
more about me than I do? How am I supposed to accept this? To...to be okay with it?"
"Lal, it’s not about
arguments. It’s not about winning or losing between us. You are who you are.
I’m not trying to prove you wrong."
"But…Bastila…listen to
me; I know I’m…a monster. When I fought Davik, I…I wanted to die. I wanted to
kill him so badly…And I didn’t care if I had to die in order to do it."
"Lal…"
"No, let me finish. I had
to kill him because I knew what he would do to
"Lal, that’s all in the
past."
"Basi, please!" Lal cried, turning away from
her sister. "I did see compassion as a weakness, Bastila. And it made me
into…into a killer. Divorcing myself from my compassion allowed me to…do the things I did. My feelings for
"Yes, Lal. I understand.
And…don’t take this the wrong way, but you mistake me. A Jedi does need
compassion. But not just compassion for a sister…or a mother. Compassion for
everyone around her. To focus on a single emotional bond to the exclusion of
all others…that is what leads
to…well, it leads to a lack of perspective. When you devised your plot to
rescue
Lal released a gasping sigh,
and felt the tears coming again. She squeezed her eyes shut to stop them, but
they came none the less in a heaving tide that sent her shoulders shuddering.
Bastila rose to her feet behind Lal and slipped her arms around Lal's waist.
She laid her head against Lal's shoulder and held her tightly.
"Lal, that life…it’s
gone, now. What you were forced to be…that person is gone. I know it will be
difficult for you to accept. But…I also know…you’ll feel better. You still
don’t remember the events…the moments, but I know that you feel them, Lal. We
argued like this all the time. But we always made up, too. I was afraid…this
time…I wouldn’t get the chance…but I’ve found you. And I love you."
"Bastila…I want to see my
parents. It might…not be…standard…"
"But these are not
standard circumstances," Bastila finished for her, patting Lal's shoulder.
"I understand. Perhaps the Council will understand as well. I suggest we
make a pact, Lal. When this is over, when we have defeated Malak…we’ll go and
see our parents."
Lal turned around in Bastila's
grasp and looked down into her eyes. "I…alright, Bastila."
Bastila smiled and pulled
away. She took a sip of her water and sighed deeply. "You will never be
alone. I will always be at your side, Lal. Oh! I just remembered something!
Stay right there." Bastila dashed back down the hallway.
Lal sat down on the couch
again, and stared down at her feet. She clenched her toes in the thick rug,
losing her thoughts in the plush softness. So, now, all of a sudden, she was no
longer a killer. She was a Jedi. A guardian of life. So, why didn’t she feel
any different? What exactly did these people expect her to do?
Bastila came back down the
hall and said, "These are yours, Lal."
Lal rose and walked over.
Bastila held up two gleaming metal cylinders. A pair of identical lightsabers.
A cold tingle trickled down her spine as Lal stared at the weapons; weapons of
a Jedi. She reached out a trembling hand, but then snatched it back. She
glanced at Bastila uncertainly. "Which one?"
Bastila smiled. She held both
cylinders end to end and screwed them together with a single twist. She handed
the joined lightsaber over and Lal gingerly took it.
Lal felt her hand slipping
into an unseen groove, locking strangely into place upon the surface of the
hilt. It fit within her palm like a lost piece of a puzzle; like her hand had
been forged to mate with the hilt. Two lightsabers locked together to form one;
each identical. Her eyes coursed over the surface, found the trigger plate that
would ignite one blade…and the twin trigger that ignited the second blade, from
the opposite end. She unscrewed the hilt and separated it again into two
weapons. She hefted both in her hands; felt the weight of each.
"When you became a
Padawan learner, you made this," Bastila explained, stepping back and
folding her arms across her breasts. Over the years, you modified it….so that
it could break down into two separate weapons."
"Does yours break down as
well?" Lal asked.
Bastila nodded. "You gave
me this one as a gift…before you left. I’ve never since used another one. When
it was…returned to me…on Taris…I knew you had gotten it back for me…"
Lal smiled. She held one of
them away from Bastila and thumbed the trigger plate. Her breath caught in her
throat as a stream of lavender light thrust forth with a crackling hiss. She
stared at the blade and felt her heart pounding. The lavender energy blade
hummed as it kissed the air around it. She waved it about and listened as the
hum changed pitch…as it sang. "It feels different than a vibroblade,"
she told Bastila. "The balance is different."
"It has no resistance as
it moves. No friction. It does not so much cut through the air as it does…utterly disregard it. Anyone who is not a
Jedi…to simply hold the weapon is almost as dangerous as being attacked by
one."
Lal recalled how clumsily
Brejik had used Bastila's stolen lightsaber. She remembered turning her swoop
rig back to go and search for it after he’d dropped it.
She closed the blade down and
glanced up at Bastila. "I don’t think--"
"Exactly! Do not think!
Just do!"
Lal glanced at her in
surprise. She looked back down at the lightsabers in her hand and sucked in a
deep breath. "Alright, Basi. Show me…"
*
"Nice ship," Calo
growled, glancing around the dimly lit bridge of the Leviathan. He tried his best to ignore the pain hissing down
his back and arms; the flesh was still raw where his clothes had been ignited
by that scum, Canderous. Calo had spent several days floating in a Kolto Bath
in the Leviathan’s sick bay.
They’d scraped him up off the smoldering ground of Taris. At first, he didn’t
know why. Calo had never known anything like charity. They hadn’t saved his
life and nursed him back to health for his personality.
They needed him.
The Naval Adjutant who had
escorted him to the bridge gave him a sour glare. "Wait here," she
told him. The Adjutant walked to the forecastle of the bridge where two figures
stood gazing out the forward screen at the stars. One he recognized. Admiral
Karath. He’d been in to see Calo in sick bay. Not a social call, of course.
Just there to check out the newest merchandise. Calo hadn’t particularly
appreciated that thought, especially now that he saw the other man at the
forecastle.
Darth Malak was a mountain
draped in crimson. He towered above every other man on the bridge, and his
shoulders were like jagged cliffs. A dark red cloak swept down from one of
those shoulders, fluttering in a gust of air that Calo could not feel. His
shaven skull bore a set of slave brands burned into the flesh. Malak wore them
almost like a badge. He turned and laid slitted eyes of coal upon Calo. Calo
almost released a gasp when he saw the strange breathing apparatus clamped
around the lower half of Malak’s face. It made the flesh and bone above the
mask seem like nothing so much as a skull bearing a steel rictus grin; like the
metal mask, the angles of his face were sharp and cold.
Karath gestured Calo forward.
Like all men of power, Karath was obviously accustomed to being obeyed
instantly. And his crew-cut lackeys probably fell over themselves to be the
first to kiss his spit shined boots. But Calo knew who the real power was. He
walked over slowly, glancing briefly at Karath before inclining his head to
Malak.
"Lord Malak," Karath
said pridefully, "the bounty hunter I mentioned. Calo Nord. He was, of
late, employed by Davik Kang."
Malak scraped his cold gaze
over Calo and glanced back at the stars. "Admiral, I trust you are not
wasting my time. Is the combined might of the Sith fleet suddenly insufficient
to the task of tracking one ship?"
"Er…Nord has some
interesting information to share, My Lord…"
Calo shrugged and made Karath
sweat for a moment or two. But not too long. He’d heard enough tales about the
Sith. "I take it you want to locate the Ebon
Hawk, Lord Malak," Calo said. "Your soldier boys ain’t
gonna have much luck, I guarantee. I don’t know how resourceful that Jedi girl
is, but she’s got herself some special help. Lal Sideen and Canderous Ordo.
There’s enough cunning and experience between the two of them to run your fleet
in circles trying to pin them down."
Malak slowly turned to gaze
down at Calo. "Who did you say?"
"Lal Sideen…Canderous
Ordo. Both were hitters for Davik."
Karath nodded, with a tiny,
nervous smile. "It is her,
Lord Malak…She yet lives."
That surprised Calo.
Obviously, the Sith Lord had some business with Lal. He had no idea what sort
of business, and doubted they’d tell him. But he suddenly knew he was exactly
where he needed to be. "You can tear the galaxy apart from one end to the other,"
Calo said casually, "but if she doesn’t want to be found, you never
will."
"Am I to gather that you
know where she is?" Malak hissed.
‘"Not at all," Calo
admitted. "But, while your officers are wasting time trying to track down
ion trails, I’m already a step ahead." He tapped the side of his skull and
nodded. "I know how she thinks. I can find her."
Malak turned a glare at Karath
and nodded once.
"Mr. Nord, We will place
your services on retainer," Karath said to Calo. "We require the
Jedi, Bastila Shan and Lal Sideen. Alive."
Calo nodded. "I’ll need a
ship, of course. And a little bit of latitude."
"Latitude?" Karath
chuckled incredulously.
"Yeah, Sarge," Calo growled at him.
"Space. Leeway. Room to do my job."
Karath’s brow beetled and his
hollow cheeks flushed. "Now you listen here--"
"You will have your latitude, bounty hunter," Malak said.
"But be mindful of this, Calo Nord: the price for failure is very steep.
Very steep indeed."
*
"I can’t imagine this is
actually the best way to go about this," Lal complained, rubbing her numb
bottom. Her backside was beginning to feel like a pincushion. A tiny spherical
training drone gusted about her head, hovering and spinning. Up until about
five minutes ago, the drone had been peppering her arms and legs and her bottom
with low yield stun blasts. They lanced out like needles, evading her best
efforts to deflect them with the blade of her lightsaber.
"Perhaps it would be more
productive to use an assault droid," Bastila suggested. Lal threw a scowl
her way. The two of them stood atop the landing platform above Lal's house, and
as the sun set, the wind began whipping at their clothes and hair.
Lal began to regret the fact
she was wearing only a thin tunic. Not only had the temperature dropped
significantly, but it left her lower delicates quite vulnerable to the
merciless accuracy of the damned drone. After an hour of this nonsense, she was
almost certain both the drone and Bastila were gaining some hidden amusement at
both her distress and obvious clumsiness.
"What I wouldn’t give for
a blaster," Lal growled under her breath, choking up her grip on the long
hilt of her lightsaber.
"The point of the
exercise is not to shoot the
drone, Lal," Bastila reminded her for perhaps the twentieth time.
"It’s not even to destroy it with your lightsaber."
"I know, I know,"
Lal groaned irritably. "It’s to avoid being hit."
"No. It’s to give
yourself in to the embrace of the Force, Lal. Close down your weapon,
please."
Lal sighed and deactivated her
lightsaber. The lavender beam shrank down into the hilt with a hiss. She balled
a fist on her hip and glared at Bastila.
"Lal…when you use your
blaster…or…when you ball up your fist to strike an opponent…tell me: are you
actively calculating the distance to your target? Determining the pitch of your
weapon in relation to the target? Of course not. You learn the skills and then
let your body put them into practice. You…surrender
your active thought to trained instinct. When you walk, do you think about placing one foot in front of
the other? Or do you just do it? Your training is already there, Lal; think
about this for a moment. Why do you think you were so…proficient as…well…"
"As a killer," Lal
finished, lowering her eyes.
"Yes. Forgive my
bluntness, sister. You didn’t stop to question your talents, your…your whims of cunning, did you? So it must be
now. I grant that this is…difficult for you. Things are much more complicated
for you, now. You have these skills, but you must remember that you have
already mastered them. Not an easy task. Your body knows, but your mind…does
not."
"Maybe…maybe I bit off
more than I can chew, Bastila…Perhaps we should--"
Bastila flashed into a whirl,
and golden light spilled forth from her hand with a sharp crackle. Lal felt her
body moving and her mind distantly shrieking as Bastila's lightsaber blistered
towards her face. The golden light flared mercilessly before her eyes,
smothering her vision. For the briefest of seconds, Lal thought Bastila was
going to tear her throat out with her weapon. But her sister had stopped her
blade only a few inches from Lal's throat.
And then, Lal's mind caught up
with her body. Bastila hadn’t stopped her strike at all; Lal's own lightsaber
had. It hummed and crackled in her hand, grinding against Bastila's golden
beam. Lal glanced down, and saw her own hands, holding the lightsaber before
her body, blocking Bastila's strike.
"How did I--"
"Do not think!"
Bastila snarled, whipping around in a tight circle. As she spun, she ripped her
lightsaber into a reverse arc, and slashed at Lal from the opposite side.
Terror flooded Lal as she
heard Bastila's lightsaber scream eagerly. Her muscles clenched, and snapped
her lightsaber across to bounce against Bastila's with a bright flash. Bastila
spun her blade in both hands and thrust forward towards Lal's chest. Lal
pivoted to the outside of Bastila's thrust and batted her sister’s attack up
and to the left. Now standing slightly behind Bastila, Lal's heart hammered
against her chest. Instinct urged her to drive the heel of her boot down into
Bastila's knee. She would have done so in any other fight…
Bastila noted Lal's hesitation
and unleashed a back-kick into Lal's belly. It hurled the older woman down onto
her bottom. Lal flexed her legs against the deck of the landing platform and
shoved her body backwards into a roll. As she did, Bastila surged forward in a
liquid movement, sweeping low with her lightsaber to tear sparks from the deck
in Lal's wake.
Lal came up on one knee as
Bastila's blade crashed down atop hers. Lal unscrewed the hilt with a swift
twist and stabbed underneath Bastila's guard with the second section of the
hilt. She pummeled Bastila in the belly with the second hilt, driving her
sister backward. She charged forward with a snarl, stabbing her blade in at
Bastila's face. Bastila moved frantically backwards and planted her rear foot
suddenly. She flexed and launched into a flip above Lal's head.
Lal's eyes narrowed and she
spun around low beneath Bastila's leap. As Bastila landed, Lal's foot extended
and slammed into the back of her knee. Bastila folded up with a gasp and fell
onto her bottom. She wrenched her lightsaber up just in time as Lal crashed
down atop her with her own lightsaber. Their weapons met with a shriek and a
splash of bright light. Lal bared her teeth as she shoved down against
Bastila's trembling muscles.
"Lal!" Bastila cried
as their lightsabers hissed and gnashed inches from her face.
Bastila's voice injected a
tiny spike of realization into Lal's thoughts. Terror again surged within her
as she saw what she was about to do. She hurled herself away from Bastila and
closed down her lightsaber. Bastila closed down her weapon and picked herself
up.
"That
was…unexpected," Bastila gasped, desperately fighting to control her breathing.
"I wasn’t thinking, Basi!
I’m sorry! I nearly…"
"No," Bastila
sighed, forcing calm back into her voice. "I’m quite fine, Lal. You
needn’t worry."
"But I…I lost
control…"
"So I noticed. Luckily, I
did not…"
"I’m so sorry, Bastila…I
got so angry…"
Concern wrinkled Bastila's
smooth brow. She quested for her words, her feelings. "No, it wasn’t anger
I sensed in you, Lal. You were…quite serene…What were you thinking about,
Lal?"
"I…I wasn’t! I don’t
know…I was…"
"You were thinking you
were in an actual battle…You let go of your conscious self," Bastila
continued, wondering aloud, "and you tried your best to kill me…"
"I didn’t mean to,
Basi…"
Bastila frowned in thought and
the two of them stood in the whipping silence of the wind. Lal could…feel something boiling inside of Bastila.
She would have called it nothing more than an intuition a week ago. But now,
perhaps she really could sense
what Bastila was feeling. It felt no different than an intuition, of course. If
this was what a Jedi could sense, it certainly didn’t feel special to Lal.
But she could feel the doubt and uncertainty
welling up in Bastila. More than that, she seemed afraid. Afraid of Lal? Or
afraid for her?
"I suppose it’s my
fault," Bastila finally said, noticing Lal's stare. "I shouldn’t have
pushed you as I did. I suppose I’m not actually qualified to instruct you on
anything. I am still merely a
Padawan Learner, myself."
Lal decided not to mention
Bastila's unease. "All these new terms…I suppose there will be a
vocabulary test in the morning?"
Bastila smiled. "A
Padawan is…a student. A…novice."
"You’re hardly a novice,
Bastila," Lal said, hooking her lightsaber reflexively upon her belt.
"You’re obviously important to the council. Why would they have trusted
you on that mission to Taris otherwise?"
"I wasn’t the only Jedi
on board the Endar Spire, Lal. The others…they were killed when the ship was
destroyed. Carth and I were the only survivors. No, I’m hardly experienced, and
certainly not qualified to teach you what you need to know. It’s simple
arrogance to think otherwise."
"I’d rather it be you,
Bastila…I’m…I’m comfortable…with you. I wouldn’t want one of those…Masters trying to teach me…and judging me
with every look…"
"Lal, you must trust in the judgment of the Council.
Learning from me…well…it could be dangerous. For both of us."
"Because of the Dark
Side, Basi? Listen…I want to know who and what I am. I…I don’t feel as if
there’s anything else for me anymore…I must know. And you…you’re my sister. If
anyone knows who I am, you do. You have
to help me through this…"
Bastila frowned at Lal,
indecision clouding her features. Lal, I cannot--"
"Basi, I--" Lal fell
abruptly silent as a chill washed across her skin and sank into her body. She
shivered as a cold prickle curdled the flesh at the base of her neck. She
glanced sharply at Bastila; the younger woman stared away from her, gazing into
the darkness spreading across the valley. "I just got a chill, standing up
here…"
Bastila shook her head and
squinted, her eyes struggling to pierce the descending folds of night. "It
wasn’t a chill, Lal. Look!"
Lal's eyes followed as
Bastila's arm shot out to point across the valley to the opposite wall. She saw
a flicker of movement along the top of the valley, grasses painted black
shifting and whipping; thrust aside in the desperate passage of someone running
full tilt. Lal could only capture the barest of glimpses of the person, every
time he dashed in front of a still-bright patch of darkening sky.
"Someone…in…in…trouble…"
Lal murmured. And as soon as she said that, a cold, trembling wail sliced
across the grasslands, rising in pitch into a keening howl. Spit forth from the
throats of a pack of predators, Lal imagined, though in all her days on Taris,
she had never heard such a haunting cry. She could hear the howling spread out
like a fluttering cloak, ringing across the plains beyond her vale, closing in.
Whatever those creatures were, they were literally herding the runner to the
edge of the valley.
"It’s
Minutes later, their sleek
Aratech tore across the floor of the valley towards the gentle rise that led in
and out of the canyon. They had to swing around to the right in a long, wide
arc to reach
Lal sliced the Aratech speeder
along the edge of the valley wall, vectoring in towards the source of the
flashes. She could hear the muted hum of a lightsaber, and could see a
silhouette flickering at the heart of the explosions of light. Suddenly,
something slammed into the left side of the speeder, jarring the entire
vehicle. Lal glanced around in shock and saw a massive, dark form slide away
behind them.
"What the hell was
that?" Lal cried out, struggling to maintain her course beneath the force
of the impact.
"Kath hounds!"
Bastila pointed, aiming Lal's gaze towards a pack of huge canine bodies dashing
around
"Not a problem,
Basi!" Lal replied. As they drew near, several of the hounds turned
slavering snarls upon them and Lal's blood ran cold when she saw their eyes;
like distant red lights flickering through a dank fog on some nightmare moor.
She was certain there was nothing natural about these beasts when she saw those
hellish eyes blazing furiously at her, eager to drive fangs deep into her
muscles, to rip and tear…
Lal slammed back on the right
control stick and jammed the air brakes to whip the speeder around in a flat
spin. She aimed the massive thrusters at the rear of the Aratech towards the
bulk of the swarming pack, and felt a trill of satisfaction when she heard the
hounds screaming and yipping beneath the blistering heat. Her spin carved a
ribbon out of the pack, and the thrusters hurled half a dozen of the baying
beasts away like dolls.
Lal caught a ragged bloodied
glimpse of
The kath hound latched its
powerful claws onto the top of the speeder and hauled its body upwards to lash
at
"Lal!" Bastila
cried.
"I know!"
"Behind you!"
"I know!" Lal slid the speeder to the
left and spun right, aiming the nose over the side of the valley wall.
"Hold on to something," she warned, clenching her teeth.
And then the speeder roared
over the edge.
The sudden downward snap of
the speeder as it fell hurled the kath hound into the air. That was one problem
solved, at least…
Beside her, Bastila gripped
onto the seat with white knuckles. She swallowed as the ground loomed upwards
at them. "Lal, have you considered gravity in this plan of yours?"
Lal suppressed a wild grin and
struggled with the repulsorlifts controls to keep a bed of gravitons beneath
the speeder’s nose. She tuned the repulsor gain up as high as she could, and
felt the nose swinging upwards. "Relax!" she cried out with a whoop.
"This is what I do best,
Basi!"
The bottom of the speeder
slapped against the floor of the valley and bounced back up into the air as the
graviton field pushed off from the ground. The tail of the speeder waggled
defiantly, but Lal wrenched their course back into a straight line. But red
lights blazed across her displays and the manifold display spun wildly.
"Drat…" Lal hissed.
She glanced over her shoulder at a cloud of white smoke pouring from one of the
thrusters. She could see from the read-outs that the speeder was losing fuel
pressure, and power was bleeding from the thrusters. She supposed they could
limp back to the Jedi Enclave, but didn’t want to get caught out in the open if
the speeder decided to stop on them. And then, she saw how badly
"She needs patching
up," Bastila cried, mirroring Lal's own thoughts.
Lal simply nodded and aimed
the stumbling speeder towards her house. The Aratech ground to a sputtering,
smoking halt in front of the steps and Lal leaped out. Together, she and
Bastila hauled
"House, secure all doors
and windows," Lal ordered without thinking. Locks and security panels
hissed into place all throughout the dwelling, sealing them safely within. But,
through the walls, they could hear the baying of the hounds drifting near.
"She’s bleeding
badly," Bastila grunted, hefting the barely conscious
"C-came out of
n-nowhere,"
"Medkit?" Lal asked
Bastila.
"In the fresher. I’ll try
to stabilize her…"
Lal dashed down the hall and
found the fresher…with the lights still one…immediately to her left. She dove
into the closet and came up with a large emergency medical kit. She hustled it
back to the living room and laid it down beside
Lal tore open a pressure
bandage and pressed it tightly against a long tear in
"Unnatural!"
Bastila gasped and fell back
from
Lal nodded grimly.
"Alright, Bastila. We’re going to have to get her to the Enclave,
then." But even as she spoke, she knew
"Lal, no!" Bastila
hissed, grabbing her sister’s arm. "She won’t make it…You…you have to save her…"
"Excuse me? I can’t…what
are you talking about?"
"Lal, it is within a
Jedi’s power to sustain a lifeforce with her own…I know how to do it, but
Lal frowned and simply stared
at Bastila. She wasn’t entirely sure she understood what Bastila was telling
her.
"Lal, a Jedi is not just
a warrior, but also a healer! Before you learn how to take life…you must know
how to save it! Listen, I know
you do not remember! But your skills are…are far greater than my own, Lal! You
are her only chance!"
"Bastila, I don’t know
what to do! I…How do I make it work?"
Bastila yanked Lal down before
Lal closed her eyes as she
gripped the sides of
She became aware, by a matter
of thumping degrees of her steady heartbeat, echoing in her ears…accompanied…by
a second beating!
Slower…weaker…Lal gradually realized what it was she was hearing; Belaya’s own
dying heart, clenching and shuddering as her life oozed out of her wounds…
Lal gasped and nearly leaped away,
But Bastila cried out somewhere in her mind: "No! This is what you are,
Lal!"
Lal swallowed her fear and
pressed onward, seeking out that weak heartbeat with her thoughts. She could
almost see it…a pulsing red glow against her eyelids, flashing weakly in the
darkness. In her ears, she felt a wet thrushing, as of a stream rushing within
its channel. Nausea churned up from her intestines, burning the lower edges of
her throat. She could feel herself spinning, the room around her whirling
madly, and the inertia of her spin pressed against her eyes like fists.
The pulsing heartbeat pressed
its rhythm against her own, matching it, mirroring it. She felt her own heart
clamp down against
And she fell; fell into her
own skin as sharply as if she’d struck a wall.
She opened her eyes and saw
Lal glanced around suddenly,
to make sure the room had stopped spinning, she stared down at her arms
expecting to see cracked flesh, but saw only smooth unbroken skin.
"Wh-what happened?" Lal gasped, her tongue scraping the roof of her
mouth like sandpaper.
"You did it, Lal,"
Bastila whispered in breathless shock. "You did it! Her bleeding has
stopped…Look!"
Lal's eyes rolled weakly
downward; the blood running freely from Belaya’s terrible wounds had ceased; A
pinkness tinged
"I…I can’t believe
it," Lal croaked as Bastila guided her to a seat.
"You don’t have to,
sister," Bastila whispered, smoothing Lal's hair back from her face.
"You don’t have to."
*
Lal awoke some time later,
without having known she was asleep. She sat up with a start, hearing a
distant, crooning howl as it sliced through the walls of her house. Bastila
stood at a window peering outside through a narrow slit in the security panel.
She clutched her lightsaber in her fist; her body tensed like a coiled spring.
"What’s happening?"
Lal asked, pushing herself up from the chair she’d collapsed in.
Bastila glanced over at her.
"Kath Hounds," she said in a chill whisper. "They’re all around
the house…just…waiting…"
Lal staggered over to her
sister and peered out into the night. It took her eyes a moment to adjust, but
she could see them; the dark bodies prowling on powerful legs, muscles flexing
anxiously beneath ragged coats. They seemed to stare right back at Lal with
eyes like hot coals.
"This is…unnatural,"
Bastila hissed. "Kath hounds do not behave in this fashion…"
Lal felt a chill trundle along
her arms and spine and she hugged herself tightly.
"Can you feel it?"
Bastila turned to look at
"We’re not safe,
Bastila,"
Bastila went to
But her gaze rested
uncomfortably on a darkened rustle she could not penetrate. She imagined more
than saw a tall figure composed of billowing darkness; a crooked shape shrouded
in rags and tatters the same color as the night sky. Lal squinted at the shape
and tried to determine if she was really seeing something there…or if her mind
was playing tricks.
Then, the figure turned a pair
of slitted red eyes on her, staring back at Lal. Lal released a gasp. As she
watched, kath hounds swarmed around the figure like a loyal pack of trained
dogs. The figure then turned and drifted away, melting back into the
surrounding shadow. With a collective howl, the kath hounds dashed off, blazing
wild trails through the grass.
Lal leaned back from the
window, and felt the chill dissipate. Warmth again suffused her muscles and
bones. She had to remind herself to breathe…
She whipped her head towards
Bastila and Belaya, and saw both women blanched and pale;
"You felt it…"
Lal looked at Bastila for some
explanation, but Bastila's face held no answers. Bastila's eyes were side with
fear. Lal needed no so-called Jedi senses to tell her that; she felt it as
well…
*
The next morning when they
arrived back at the Jedi Enclave, Lal could have almost bathed in the sunlight.
Never had she hungered so much for warmth and sunshine as she had during that
long night. The soothing fire of the morning sun seemed to wash away the fear
that still prickled the skin on her arms and legs. Perhaps it was the purity of
the day; the first light to blaze across the world’s breast. It was the first
light to touch the ground after night had released its cold rictus grasp.
Maybe Lal was just imagining
it. She would never have had such…sentimental thoughts on Taris. But then
again, she had never known such unreasoning frantic fear on Taris. Even while
trudging through the wet darkness of Undercity. Terror had been all too
tangible on Taris. Too commonplace. Fear had never scared her as it had last
night. And as a result, the grasslands lounging in the morning looked newly
sketched, and the distant plateaus and columns of white stone seemed newly
sculpted. Unspoiled.
She felt new.
Bastila and
"I told you Wookiees don’t like having their teeth
brushed!"
AyVee whistled shrilly down at
them while Zaalbar strained to grab the little droid.
Zaalbar took the opportunity
to snarl again and spit out a mouthful of foam. Lal covered her mouth in
disbelief and stifled a laugh. He howled indignantly about the taste of
toothpaste and the honor of a Wookiee and leaped furiously after the droid.
Carth came down the ramp and
squinted after
"Now you’ve done
it!"
"I swear this is like a
traveling sideshow," Carth growled, shaking his head. He was about to head
back onto the Ebon Hawk when he
caught sight of the blaster on
"And you just decided
that this was a good idea in the middle of the Jedi Enclave? Take it off."
"Mission…do I look like
I’m in the mood? Now put it back where you got it."
"Alright, alright!"
Zaalbar forgot his hatred of
AyVee and shuffled his feet guiltily beneath Carth's withering glare.
"You’re encouraging her," Carth accused. "You know that,
right?"
In reply, Zaalbar barked that
he had no idea what Carth was talking about. The Wookiee immediately thundered
up the ramp after
She sighed and stepped into
his line of sight. His surprise gusted out from him and bathed her senses.
There was also the shrill tinge of anger, prickling the edge of her thoughts.
For a moment, she almost forgot that she was standing there; she was so amazed
that she could sense his emotions. He saw her then, and a wall suddenly slammed
down over his thoughts. She felt it as keenly as a door slamming in her face.
"Well, imagine
that," he said, placing his fists on his hips as she slowly approached.
"I was just thinking about you."
"Pleasant thoughts, I
trust?" she said hopefully, clasping her hands behind her.
His eyes coursed up and down
her frame and he frowned. "Look like you been through hell, Lal…"
She had changed out of her
blood-soaked skirt earlier in the morning, but she hadn’t slept more than an
hour. Normally, she wouldn’t have cared, but she was suddenly certain her hair
was a mess…
"I had a rough
night," she decided to say, unsure exactly what he would and would not
believe.
He waited for more, but she
couldn’t form any other words at that exact moment. He snorted in disgust and
glanced away.
"Carth…what’s wrong? Why
are you so…upset?"
"Upset? Is that what I
am? Upset? Nah. This isn’t upset, Lal. I’m perfectly fine. I have absolutely no
problem whatsoever with being
ignored and kept out of the loop. No, I’m not upset at all, Lal."
"Carth…why are you
yelling at me?"
"You take off without any
hint of where you’re going…you and Bastila both! I try to get answers from
these Jedi, but I swear…"
"Carth," she said
softly, moving close to him and laying a hand on his chest, "calm down. I
went to spend the day with my sister. It was no great secret or anything. We
weren’t trying to keep you out of the loop.
I…the Jedi probably didn’t tell you anything because they didn’t know. I…I
don’t know what else to say, Carth…I mean, I’m sorry…I didn’t intend it as an
insult to you. I…I thought you told me not to bother you anymore…"
Carth's eyes narrowed at her
as she spoke. "Lal, this is serious."
"And what you said to me
wasn’t?"
"Lal…what I said to
you…Don’t play dumb with me, okay? I’m not in the mood."
"Well, neither am I,
Carth!" she snapped, without meaning to. She sighed and closed her eyes,
forcing herself to remain calm. "I…I had a very…rare night. I learned I have
parents that I’m not bloody allowed to even see…A woman nearly bled to death in
my arms…we spent the night barricaded in my house against…I don’t even know
what they were…"
Carth stared at her for a
moment longer, trying to read her face. She felt him make an active decision to
put aside his anger; felt him lock it tightly away. His face softened and he
released a sigh. "Alright. I’m sorry for yelling at you, Lal. It’s not
your fault, I reckon…It’s just…well, I received word from Command yesterday. Seems
they want me to wait for further orders. I’m sure the Jedi have something to do
with this…But I’m not doing anyone any damn good just sitting here and cooling
my heels…"
"I’m afraid I know about
as much as you do, Carth," she told him, brushing her fingertips down the
hardened surface of his arm. "But…I am
rather glad you’re here…"
"Lal…"
"No, let me speak…I…what
I’ve learned, Carth…I wish I could…put it into words! I don’t know what’s going
to happen to me…but being away from Taris…being…here…I feel so strange. I have a sister, Carth!
I’m…happy…and afraid…all at the same time…"
He arched an eyebrow at her
and released a crooked smile. "Alright, what have you done with Lal,
imposter?"
Lal closed her eyes and
smiled. "Very funny, Carth. But I’m being serious."
"Serious? Well, that’s
different then. I don’t know what to tell you, Lal. This entire business
is…well, it’s a little out of my experience. Anytime Jedi are involved in
something, you can bet it’s gonna be…strange. My life has been pretty strange
ever since I met you."
She squinted up at him, the
sun spilling past his shoulder into her eyes. "Is that an entirely bad
thing, Carth?"
"It hasn’t exactly been
fun, Lal…"
"No," she admitted
with a sigh, "it hasn’t been. I…" she closed her mouth and shook her
head.
Carth stood in front of her in
silence for a long moment, searching her eyes. She lifted her chin to return
his gaze as openly as she could manage. Again, she could feel his thoughts
surging freely from him. The wall had tumbled down. His fear strained and
tugged away from her; his anger jabbed lightly; and his desire warmed her, even
though he hid it beneath the cloud of his thoughts.
Lal smiled and lifted a hand
to brush his hair from his brow. The movement tugged her against his chest, and
she felt very much like crushing herself into his arms. She resisted the urge
for some reason; she wasn’t entirely sure why. She knew he wanted her. But
perhaps the desire he felt for her was the simple idiot desire that all men
felt for women. She knew that animal lust well. It meant nothing to her;
nothing to them. It was just chemical. She wondered if that was the only lure
she held over him, or if there was some depth to that longing. She had never
been known to inspire such depth or complexity. No. She was a master of coaxing
forth dull-witted lust. But something, anything
more…that was beyond her abilities.
Feeling suddenly foolish, she
stepped back from him and glanced down at the toes of her boots. Confusion
drifted forth from his mind, but he gave no voice to it.
Instead, he sighed and ran a
hand through his wooly hair. "So, when are you leaving, Lal?"
"Leaving?"
"To get on with your
business. Dantooine is still just a pit stop for you after all."
"I…I don’t know,"
she muttered, feeling even more foolish. "Business…business will keep for
a bit, I should think."
"Now I know you can’t be the real Lal."
"Carth, why are you
giving me such a hard time about this?"
"Payback," he
chuckled. "I seem to remember a certain lady giving me the business a
short while back…"
"That’s because I…well.
It certainly seems a long while ago, doesn’t it?"
"Not to me."
"I should think it would
be obvious that things have changed from what they were when we first met,
Carth."
"If that means you’re no
longer a mercenary," he said, "I’m all for it. If it just means
you’re killing time…"
"I don’t know exactly what it means, Carth," she said,
feeling heat rise in her voice. "And to be fully honest, I think I’m
rather tired of you judging me based upon three years of my life. And might I
add, you’ve only seen into a tiny window of those three years. I’m truly sorry
about your family, Carth; about all that you’ve lost…I really am. But I’m not
to blame for it, Carth. And whatever I was on Taris…whatever I did on Taris,
had nothing whatsoever to do with…with what you’ve had to suffer. I’m sorry I
treated you so badly, but I also helped you! Perhaps I had my own reasons for
it, but when it came down to it, I stood with you. Not against you."
Carth sighed heavily and nodded.
"Alright. Maybe you’re, uh, you’re right. Maybe I haven’t been
exactly…fair to you…But I am grateful, Lal."
"And I’m grateful to you
for saving my life at Davik’s estate," she told him. "Perhaps…I was
thinking about something: maybe we could pretend…no. That’s not what I…maybe we
could…do you think we could just sort of…start over?"
"Start over," he
repeated. "You mean from when you walked in here this morning? Or
like…start over over?"
She couldn’t help but smile at
him. "Over over. From the beginning over…"
"I suppose that’s
possible."
"Well, let me get one
more thing out of the way before we do."
"Uh…okay…"
She reached around and turned
his chin towards her. She stood up on her toes and pressed her lips to his. At
first, he nearly leaped back in surprise. But then, his mouth softened against
hers and his hands slid around her back. She pressed her hands against his
shoulders and leaned into his body. When their lips parted, she sighed and
brushed his cheek with her own. She rested in his arms for a long moment and
turned a grin up to him.
"I always keep the
promises I make, Carth," she murmured against his chest.
"Uhm-hmm…I’m glad…By the
way, the name’s Carth. Carth Onasi…"
"Mmm. Lal."
"Pleased to meet you,
Lal."
"Lal!" Bastila called out, stepping
into the plaza. "The Council is meeting. They wish to speak with
you."
Lal sighed and glanced up into
Carth's eyes. "Pleased to be met, Mr. Onasi." She grinned at him and
tugged free of his arms to join Bastila.
"It’s actually ‘Captain
Onasi’…"
"Oh…come on, Lal,"
Bastila groaned. "You’re bloody incorrigible…"
The twin suns of Tatooine blazed like diamonds trapped in
a pool of lava as they rose high into the white sky. Jun Ando lifted his
sandgoggles to mop the sweat from his brow and glanced around the loading dock
with a weary sigh. It had been more than a week now with no word from his
employer. If things went on much longer like this, they’d begin losing
contracts. After word had reached them of Taris’ destruction, several pilots
had already deserted. Suppliers and buyers were losing confidence.
Word had it, Lal Sideen was dead.
Jun replaced his goggles and barked out an order to the
crew of loading droids that had just hauled the cargo from the swollen belly of
a Corellian Trade Skimmer, recently docked after a run through the Hutt
territories. Jun knew the captain, a dusty-little bush pilot barely out of her
teens, but with more stick time than half the space rats in port. An Feeda was
a willowy Zabrak with barely a full crest of horns on her skull, sporting a
brace of clan tattoos on her right cheek. She wasn’t much more than a whip, but
the girl was utterly fearless, like Lal herself. Jun supposed that was one
reason Lal had contracted her and her ship. She was one of the few pilots still
loyal. Maybe she hadn’t heard about Taris, but it was more likely the girl
simply didn’t give a womp-rat’s ass. Like most of these Outer Rim lifers, An
was crazy.
Jun reckoned he fell right into company beside the girl.
Still, he was getting paid for his time. As long as he made sure the shipments
came through, funds were electronically transferred into his accounts on
Munillist. He knew it was largely an automatic process, designed to hide the
transactions from Kang, and just because he was still getting paid didn’t mean
Lal was alive.
Jun just didn’t know what to think anymore. He walked
over to a wall control pad and pushed the button that would extend the roof
over the pit where the landing bay huddled. He watched it slowly spread across
the bay, blocking of the glare of the suns, reflected a thousand fold by all
the salt particles floating in the sky. An had gone on to the local cantina,
likely to get drunk and bet her newfound creds on the Swoops. Probably a good
idea.
Maybe Jun would run into Tuha there…try and get back into
her bed tonight. Yeah, that was a good idea.
After making his way across the settlement, stepped into
the dank moist shadows of the cantina. Didn’t see An or Tuha, or anyone he
knew. Just a bunch of Czerka corp salary-boys tossing back purple fizzes almost
as if they were actual drinks. Jun sneered in disgust and almost decided to
leave. Nobody had much love for Czerka; the galactic mega-corporation had set
up shop some fifty years back, after some ridiculously premature subsurface
surveys. They’d pushed out all the mom-and-pop mining operations that had
claims here decades before Czerka’s CEO had even learned how to wipe his snotty
nose. Most of those old claims were as dry as the salt flats in the
One couldn’t spit into the wind without hitting either a
smuggler, a pirate, a hooker or worse, a company rep. Not in Anchorhead. Most
honest folk only came into the settlement for trade. Only real thing of any
value on Tatooine was water. Oh the Czerka dung-wigglers tried to flood the
economy with their all but useless corporate scrip, and their local vendors
shortchanged you when you used standard cred. But it was getting to the point
where the few cred clinking about in a man’s pockets was hardly worth the water
pumping through his body.
There was cred to be had on the Tat;
it just wasn’t a good place to spend it.
Unless you wanted to buy a lot of stock in getting pissed. Jun eased up to the
bar to make an investment.
“A bottle of Yellow Bottom,” he grunted at the bartender.
The man shoved a clear bottle of the sour malt at him and went off to adjust
the flickering hologram of a half-naked Twi'lek dancer, writhing in a broken
loop a meter above the bar. Jun took a swig of the Yellow Bottom, convincing
himself for the thousandth time that the color of the stuff didn’t make him think of bantha urine. It burned its way
down with an oddly antiseptic hiss that tended to grow on a person. Then the
hiss turned into a frothy rumble halfway down his throat.
“Ah,” he gasped, “that’s good Yellow…”
“Then you’d better enjoy it,” a gravelly voice grated
behind him. Jun’s hand instinctively fell to his blaster as he took another
swig. “Because it’s gonna be your last one.”
Jun’s body tensed to whirl and draw his weapon, but a
heavy weight blasted into the base of his skull. He staggered forward into the
bar and the Yellow slipped from his fingers to explode in a wet crash upon the
floor. Jun felt himself falling; his hands hit the ground, skin bursting where
glass shards jabbed into him. Darkness swept over him, and he wondered if he
was getting paid enough for this…
*
“You know the one good thing about this salt-cake of a
dust-hole planet you got here, Jun?” a voice hissed. “Hmm? No local
constabulary. Oh yeah, Czerka pays some of their silky-boys to put on a cap and
shine a flashlight into the corners and alleys at night, but those girls don’t
want any trouble. Not in a town where everybody carries a gun.”
Jun shook his throbbing head and tried to stand, but his
arms and legs were bound. He blinked his eyes to clear the fog and saw that he
was inside the cargo hold of a ship. Small one from the looks of it. Couldn’t
tell the make.
“That witch has certainly done pretty nice for herself
here. I gotta admit, I’m surprised. Yeah. Who would’a thought that Lal Sideen
would have the sack to set up an operation behind Davik’s back? Not that I
care, mind you. Davik Kang was a stupid bastard and personally, I’m glad he’s
dead.”
Jun propped himself up against a bulkhead and squinted in
the dull-edged glow to see a powerfully built, squat man in a long coat the
color of sand at midday. A pair of goggles rested over a sharp nose and a cruel
sneering wrinkle of a mouth. Damn.
“Alright. Might as well get to it. “You know who I am,
Jun Ando.”
Jun nodded, a grimace of pain and fear twisting his
wind-worn features.
“Say it! Say my name!”
Jun’s lips twisted as he spat the words out. “Calo Nord.”
“You got that right, dust-kicker. Now, I don’t have a
lotta time to spare cuttin’ on you and all that. So we’re gonna try something
new for me. You tell me what I want to know, and I let you walk out of here.”
Jun’s mind suddenly raced with thoughts, putting the
puzzle pieces together swiftly.
“Now, hold on a sec,” Nord went on. “You ain’t the
brightest bulb in the pack, but you’re still smart enough to figure that I’m
here on account of Lal Sideen. You’re probably thinking that she escaped from
Taris. That she’s alive. Well, don’t hold out your hopes too long or too far. I
want you to understand, she might still be walkin’ around, but that is one dead
woman. Her life ain’t worth the effort it takes you to spit dust on this
dust-hole. Because I’m after her. Since you know who I am, you know that I’m a
man of my word when it comes to killin’.”
“How about you just get on with it, bounty
hunter.”
Calo nodded and took a step towards Jun. “How ‘bout I do
that. I been watching this little operation for a few days now. Learning the
ins and outs. Actually wasn’t easy to find it, but it wasn’t that hard either.
Not once I realized that Lal would be the sort to feather a nest. I remembered
when we came out to this crap-hole last time, with Davik. She was real
interested in the smuggling operation. And so, here I am, learning just how
clever that witch is. You wanna be clever too, Jun. But not too clever,
understand? Just clever enough to walk out of here with your life. So, where is
she?”
Jun lowered his eyes and swallowed a deep breath that had
the salty tinge of blood in it. “I don’t know what you wanna know…d-do your
worst…”
Calo’s gloved fist slammed into Jun’s jaw, buffeting his
skull. Blood flew from Jun’s mouth and he fell to the floor, face first.
“That was very clumsy of you,” Calo sighed. “The floor is
quite slippery.” He used his boot to turn Jun over on his back. “I reckon you
didn’t hear me as you were slipping. “Where is Lal Sideen?”
Jun spit out a wad of blood along with a tooth and shook
his head. “This ain’t the first time somebody threw me a beatin’, you psycho
half-pint son of a hutt.”
Calo stomped down hard on Jun’s chest and Jun cried out
in pain. He tried to curl into a ball, but Calo ground his foot into Jun’s
throat, pinning him to the deck. “Y’know, I bet you’re pretty accident prone,
aren’t you? You should be more careful.”
Jun coughed and wheezed beneath Calo’s boot, struggling
to get free.
“Did you say something?” Calo asked casually. “Speak up.”
“I…s-said…I-I d-don’t…know where sh-she…”
Calo kicked Jun in his ribs, and Jun felt a sharp crack
in his chest. He gasped and squeezed his eyes shut, whimpering wetly deep in
his throat. Calo bent down to haul him up to his feet, and patted Jun on the
shoulder. “Alright. It’s alright now.” Savagely, he yanked Jun forward and
lifted his knee into Jun’s belly. The Calo spun around and hammered his elbow
against the back of Jun’s skull.
Jun collapsed to his knees and vomited, doubling over.
Calo kicked him onto the deck, on his side. “Must have eaten something that you
didn’t agree with. Once more. Where is she?”
“C-crazy b-b-bastard…if I knew, I-I…would have t-told…”
Calo snapped back a fist to slam it down into Jun’s
temple, but stopped. Calo sighed and crouched down over Jun’s gasping,
trembling body. “Y’know, I think I believe you. You’re a clumsy half-witted
dust-kicking flatscan, but maybe you’ve got some sense. You honestly don’t have
a clue.” Calo pulled his knife from the rear of his belt and held it before
Jun’s wide eyes.
And chuckled.
“I’m a man of my word,” he reminded Jun, and sliced the
cord around his ankles. He put the knife away, after kissing it, and smiled at
Jun; a nasty slash of a smile, with teeth bared. He hauled Jun back up to his
feet and patted his cheek. “Your hands remain tied, of course. For my safety.
Can you walk? Can you?”
Jun nodded weakly, cringing away from the bounty hunter.
“Good, good. See? I’m not so bad. Now then…where would I
go if I was a hutt-slime of a whore on the run…? Maybe…maybe that Jedi is the
key…maybe I should be looking for the Jedi instead…”
“Jedi?” Jun coughed.
Calo turned to him and frowned. “Just thinking out loud,
dust-kicker,” and he drew his blaster and fired point blank at Jun’s face. Calo
watched the corpse fall to the deck and he sighed, staring critically at the
mess he’d made. He held his blaster up and adjusted the gain on the emitter.
Then he holstered his weapon and headed out of the cargo hold to the tiny
cockpit of his ship.
He crawled into the pilot’s seat and reached down to
flick on the computer. He cycled to the navigational directory and ran a search
on planets used by the Jedi. He had heard something about the Council spreading
its members across nearly a dozen worlds, ever since Malak had hit Coruscant a
while back. “Coruscant’s too visible,” he muttered, looking at the list of
worlds that popped up. “Same with Alderaan…They’d want some place out of the
way…” He called up another planet on the display screen and jabbed at it with
his finger. Aha. That’s where you went, isn’t it? You cowardly little
whore…Dantooine…”
*
“So it would seem you’ve decided to wear a lightsaber,”
Master Vrook commented, piercing Lal with a cold glare. Lal's hand reflexively
brushed across the lightsaber hanging from her belt. Vrook turned his bitter
stare upon Bastila. “Tell me, Padawan; did you consult anyone before you took
it upon yourself to put such a dangerous weapon into your sister’s hands? I
wonder that your feelings are entirely clear on this matter…”
Master Vandar shook his head, causing his long ears to
wiggle. He cleared his throat with a grunt and cast a sidelong glance up at
Vrook. “Other matters there are to concern us this day, I think, Master Vrook.
Besides which, saved the life of
“I can only guess it had something to do with the events
of last night. Before we speak of this, I must ask about
“
“You see, Lal,” he said, “
“She should have been refused on that basis,” Vrook
growled. “Her emotional attachment led her to this eventuality. And her
inexperience.”
Lal shook her head, confused by their words. “I’m afraid
I don’t quite follow…”
“Eager was
“You see, Lal,” Zhar went on, “for many weeks now, we
have sensed a presence…a power…growing strong in the Dark Side. There is a
grove, once sacred to the original inhabitants of this world long, long ago. We
believe they knew the ways of the Force, but they predated the Jedi traditions
by…by thousands of years. Though they are but dust and dreams now,
their…presence still manifests in certain places. This grove has stood longer
than the Jedi have existed, and always, it has been a place of tremendous
power. But something has changed the grove, Lal. Corrupted it. One of the
results of this corruption, as you discovered last night…the kath hounds have
been…twisted by this energy.
“Kath hounds are normally quite fierce when provoked. But
they rarely cross the paths of the few sentients who make Dantooine their home.
They are like any other animal in that regard. But this…taint
has turned the kath hounds into…into monsters. Guided, it seems, by some
malevolent will. Four times now, there have been reports of attacks on
settlers. Each attack has been more savage than the last.
Lal did recall that
Zhar shook his head. “Your feelings serve you well, Lal.
But that is not what is required; killing kath hounds would be like merely
treating the symptoms of a disease. The cause of the disease must be
addressed.”
“Go you must to the Ancient Grove, Lal,” Master Vandar
said. “Unravel this mystery you will.”
“You may consider it a…a test,” Zhar added. “To determine
if you are…strong enough to bear this burden we must place on your shoulders.”
“A test,” Lal repeated flatly. “No rest for the wicked,
then, is there? It’s rather a lot to dump into my lap all at once, don’t you
think?”
“Predictable,” Vrook chuckled. “Insolence. A lack of
proper respect. You only see yourself, not others. This is your weakness, Lal.
Perhaps it served you well on Taris, but--”
“Excuse me,” she cut in sharply. “You people reel me in
here and off-handedly turn my entire world on its ear. You place some terrible…duty on me after less than a day, and I’m supposed to just
accept it blindly? Then, you tell me I’m suddenly subject to some bloody test?
Forgive me if I don’t eagerly strike out upon it.”
“Hmph!” Vrook snorted in disgust glancing down at Vandar.
“Perhaps it would change her mind if we offered a few credits…”
“It might!” Lal snapped angrily. “Listen…I don’t know
what I was like before I…before I lost my memory, but I doubt I was a fool. You
have been treating me as such ever since I arrived. My feelings do serve me well, Master Zhar. Even on Taris, I’ve always
been able to smell a muckrat. You people are hiding something. You’re not
telling me everything.”
She folded her arms over her breasts and cocked her
weight on her back leg, watching as the Jedi glanced back and forth among each
other, digesting her words. “I’ll do
this task for you,” she finally continued. “But ‘test’? I think not. I’ll do
this for you, but when I do, I want to know everything. This is my life you’re
mucking about with, and as such, I deserve to know everything.”
“Predictable,” Vrook sighed. “Do not presume to dictate
to the Council, young lady!”
“Lamar,” Zhar said quietly to Vrook, “perhaps Lal is
right. We are not deceiving you, Lal. But it is understandable why you might
feel paranoid. This is all very new and strange to you. And terribly sudden.
But here is the simple truth, Lal. The Republic is facing its greatest threat
since the days of Exar Kun. The Sith have returned more powerful than ever
could have been imagined. Their fleet is unstoppable. The source of their new
power is…it remains a mystery to us. We don’t have a great deal of time. That’s
why we are pushing you. We need you. It’s that simple.”
Lal thought back to Carth's words on the Ebon Hawk. He said much the same thing. And she figured it
was only a matter of time before more worlds like Telos or Taris fell to them.
She couldn’t deny that. And perhaps Carth had been right. She just wanted to
remember her life. But there were so many obstacles in her path. The Council
was one of those obstacles. And it seemed, perhaps, so was Malak.
“Alright,” she finally relented. “I’ll help. I assume
Bastila knows where this grove is? Let’s get this done, then.”
Bastila glanced nervously at her boots…
“Bastila will not be joining you, I’m afraid,” Zhar said.
“Bastila is the only one among us who possesses battle meditation, Lal. She
is…too valuable to endanger. You must do this task without her help.”
You’re joking,” Lal cried out. Then she thought better of
her words. “No, of course you’re not joking. Does this get any worse? Am I to
do this alone, then?”
“I’m afraid we cannot send any other Jedi to assist you,
Lal,” Zhar said. “Most of the Padawans here at the Enclave are…too
inexperienced. Unfortunately, Master Bolook and Master Nemo are involved in
other duties. I’m sorry, Lal. Please try to understand. We have spoken to
Bastila at length about you, today. Based on her recommendation, we feel this
task is within your abilities to complete.”
Lal sighed heavily and nodded. “Alright, then. I’ll do
what you need me to do.”
*
“Ah chutta,” the Twi’lek merchant smiled at Lal as she
walked into the surplus store. “Bo Crattis Yurkaloia; Ting-neboong cha, ni
dah!”
Lal nodded politely to him as she glanced over the stacks
of battered metal crates and shelves of weaponry. She noticed several droids in
the back, going through inventory lists, and a younger Twi’lek perched over a
work table, using a microwelder on a broken down motivator assembly.
“Jedda bodda wanna needa boddo?” Crattis Yurkal asked
her.
“Actually, I’m looking for a decent Slipsuit,” she
replied. “You sell military surplus here?”
He nodded and moved towards a stake of crates, gesturing
for her to follow. “Meeli wo rong chee.” He hauled down one of the crates from
the stack and popped it open on the floor. Inside rested a dozen jiggling
spheres of black jelly, with metal studs lodged within them. Crattis knelt down
and ran his green fingers over the studs in each of the jellied balls. He then
looked up at Lal, examining her size and shape. “Er…eh…heh…ning
chop-pekto…heh,” he began nervously.
Lal chuckled and shook her head. “No, I won’t be needing
a fitting. I wear an Alpha-eight-six-gee.”
“Ah,” he nodded, seeming a bit disappointed. He reached
into the crate and pulled out a globe. He stood up and held it out for her
inspection.
“That’ll do,” she told him, checking the tiny code
laser-etched into the metal stud of the ball. She could tell from the globe’s
jiggling consistency that these Slipsuits were genuine Durosian-manufacture,
never used before. “I’ll also be needing a rifle. Something compact, but with
stopping power.”
He glanced at her in confusion, and gestured to the
lightsaber at her belt. “Nee Jedi no wadda…? Keeng no chuuk--”
“I’m going on a hunting trip,” she told him quickly,
silencing his speculation. “Lightsabers rather take the sport out of it. I was
thinking maybe a Blastech G-227? I don’t want one of those cheap Czerka
knock-offs you’ve got stacked up there.”
“Ki-poona!” he hissed, nodding sagely at her. “Czerka neek-chong
meely wang!”
Lal tried not to listen too closely as he ranted about
Czerka’s various monopolistic practices. She smiled and nodded where
appropriate, though. And he led her to the rear of the shop, where he opened a
closet. He grinned proudly, revealing a hidden stock of higher quality firearms
stacked almost reverently within the closet. He pulled forth the Blastech she’d
asked for and slapped the receiver plate open for her inspection.
Lal examined it closely, noticing that there was hardly
any carbon scoring, and nodded. “Very good. I’ll also be needing supplies. Add
them to my bill, if you would.”
Lal returned to the front counter as Crattis began
filling her order. She saw Canderous leaning in the open doorway of the shop,
his arms folded across the breastplate of his blue and silver armor.
“Planning a countryside jaunt, then?” he asked.
“I have business to which I must attend, Canderous.”
“So I can see,” he replied as Crattis set a crate of
supplies down on the counter beside Lal. Lal checked over the supplies and
nodded at Crattis. She pulled forth a credstick and handed it over to him.
Crattis smiled and slotted the stick into a data reader on the counter.
“Moocha chappa packa,” Crattis nodded, handing the
credstick back.
“Canderous, make yourself useful, would you?” Lal smiled,
nodding her head at the crate of supplies. She slung the rifle over her
shoulder and headed for the door. Canderous sighed and hefted the crate up onto
his shoulder.
“I noticed you cut quite a striking figure with that
lightsaber on your belt,” Canderous said as the arrived at the Hawk’s ramp.
She glanced over her shoulder at him as the stepped up
into the Hawk’s belly. She walked straight back into the maintenance bay and
laid her new rifle down on one of the work tables. Canderous set the crate down
beside the table and leaned against the wall to watch her. Lal pulled up a
chair and sat down. She propped the rifle upright and flicked a lever that
swung up the receiver from the main assembly. She pulled out the emitter coil
and began field stripping the weapon with sharp efficient movements. After she
had it stripped down, she began cleaning the parts.
Canderous reached out to flick on a light above the
table.
“Thank you,” she said. He shrugged in reply.
“Very efficient break-down,” he told her. “I doubt I
would be much faster.”
Lal looked up at him as she polished the emitter lens and
then began reassembling the rifle. As she did so, she removed the stock and
tossed it aside. Even though it was a collapsible stock, it was too damned
heavy. Once the rifle was back together, she held it in one hand and sighted
down the length of it. Satisfied, she laid the rifle down and swiveled in her
chair to face Canderous.
“Your…sister was here
earlier,” Canderous said. She told the others you might require assistance in
this…business of yours. An argument ensued between your soldier-boy and the
little Jedi. He complains a great deal about things he has no power to change.”
“Carth isn’t my soldier-boy,
Canderous.”
Canderous shrugged. “As you wish. I take it as a sign of
weakness that he has not already claimed you. It is clear he desires you.”
“What business is it of yours if he does or doesn’t?”
“Only the business of amusement, Lal. If I didn’t have
these bright little moments in my life, I’m sure I would just simply…burst.”
Lal suppressed a chuckle and shook her head. “Your sense
of humor’s coming along nicely.”
“I’ve been working hard at it. So, you will need my
assistance.”
“Why do you think that, Canderous?”
“Heh. You are sharpening your spears, so to speak. When a
clan readies its blades and pins their cloaks to the ground, they are preparing
to fight and die.”
“Canderous…your metaphors are truly colorful, but…”
“Obviously, you are embarking on a dangerous task. You
will need assistance. Your sister claimed she was restricted from aiding you,
but that your…ah…friends might be allowed to
help.”
“Canderous, I know we’ve spoken about this--”
“Then it need not be spoken of a second time.”
“Canderous…I find myself…needing to
be honest with you…more so than anyone I know…I don’t know why…”
He chuckled. “Likely because I am honest with you when no
one else you know is. Except for
“Leave
“You’re a Jedi?”
“Er…yes…so it seems…”
“Heh. But you are not sure you believe this?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know…I can…do things, Canderous…”
“’Things.’ Ah. Impressive.”
“Oh forget it!” she growled, leaping to her feet. She
turned to walk away, but he grabbed her hand, and snapped her around to face
him. He yanked her close to him and glared into her face.
“Canderous, she hissed softly, her wrist pulsing in his
iron grasp, “If you’re not planning on kissing me, I would suggest you remove
your hand.”
“Bastila has made you too trusting, Lal. Listen to me! I
know these Jedi! They are not to be trusted! They are cunning dogs…”
“Perhaps, Canderous,” she snarled, pivoting sharply out
of his grasp, “you are thinking of Revan and Malak.”
“Revan and Malak at least had the courage to stand up for
what they believed in. The rest of the Jedi chose cowardice. Though they claim
to be champions of the light, they do not hesitate to rely upon deceit and
manipulation to achieve their ends. I would respect this if they weren’t
hypocrites. Respect cunning, Lal, but beware it when it is paired with moral
superiority. Whatever they have told you, Lal, do not trust. Their brand of
fanaticism will get you killed.”
“Canderous…I don’t think I can offer you the
same…opportunities as I had planned. I must learn what the Jedi know. What they
know about me. I have no choice in that. And I cannot have you waiting around
for something I may never be able to…to give you.”
“Heh. Luckily, I wish for nothing to be given to me. We
shall see what we shall see, Lal. And that is all that needs to be said about
that. For now.”
*
Lal left Canderous in the maintenance bay and took the
corridor that led to the starboard crew cabin. When she saw
Lal wished she hadn’t said what she’d said to
But then Lal realized
Lal sighed and turned away from the Twi’lek girl. There
was nothing to be said anymore. Nothing she could tell
Lal pulled her tunic over her head and tossed it on
another bunk. She sat down naked on that bunk and began wrenching her boots
off. She tugged them off with a grunt and tossed them aside. Then, she stood,
holding the jiggling black globe of the unformatted Slipsuit in her palm. She
pressed the sphere to her belly and thumbed the metal stud. The jellied ball
suddenly splashed over her body, running over her skin like oil. It filled
every hollow and spread across every curve, formatting itself to her body. In
seconds, it polymerized to a glistening rubbery sheen, covering her from her
throat to her toes. As she breathed, she felt the suit shifting and stretching
to match the movement of her ribcage.
She bent down to retrieve her boots and
“Real considerate puttin’ your butt in my face,”
“I’m sorry, Mission,” Lal said, sitting down to pull her
boots on. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I know why you said those things to me, Lal. I’m not
stupid. Took me a while to figure it out, but I ain’t dumb.”
“I know you’re not,
Lal finished pulling her boots on and stood to strap her
belt around her hips. She noticed
“We’ve been through a lot, haven’t we?” Lal asked softly,
stroking
“
“But why?”
“Does everybody know about this, then?” Lal sighed.
“Lal, we could just go. You don’t owe them anything. We
could find some planet, some beautiful little place no one’s ever heard of…you,
me and Zaalbar. You’ve done enough for the Jedi…or the Republic…or whoever…”
“
Lal lowered her eyes and rose to her feet. She placed a
hand on her hip and gazed down at
“Huh?”
Lal nodded, a smile peeking past her lips. “That’s right.
Although she is a bit slow sometimes. Not much of a family resemblance.”
“Oh…”
“You’re rather an easy mark,” Lal chuckled.
“Lal, you’d be so proud of me, because I’m a completely
incredible shot! Zaalbar says I’m a natural, and I’m sure I could help you out,
you know? Like, I could watch your back and stuff…”
Lal groaned and held
“But, Lal…I…”
“Stop.”
“Lal…my place is with you! I don’t have anything else…My
brother abandoned me…my parents…I don’t have any parents…I’m just…I know I can
be useful. I mean…not a burden and all…”
Lal sighed and pulled away from the Twi’lek. “Mission…I
can’t believe you. I just…Do you think I enjoy this? That I’m happy doing the
things I’ve done? Is that what you think? Why do you think it’s so bad
being…being a normal girl?”
“
Lal sat down on the bunk opposite
“Lal…I may not be as smart as you or as good as you…I
don’t know things like you do…And I know that…I need to know things. To
survive. This thing on my face tells everyone that I’m just a piece of
property. On my own…it’s only a matter of time before someone decides they have
the right to make me…to make me do what they want.
Don’t you understand that?”
Lal stared at
And since nobody else cared about
“Alright, Mission,” Lal finally said. “I will explain to
you how things will be between us. First, let me tell you something: if you get
yourself killed, I shall be very cross with you…”
*
“I don’t like the thought of camping out in the open,”
Carth grunted, taking a bearing with the auto-compass built into the wrist
computer he wore.
Carth rolled his eyes and slowly turned to face her.
“Why, Mission, thank you for pointing out the merely obvious
as opposed to the extremely obvious…”
The Twi’lek frowned at him as she stepped down from the
massive speeder. “Huh?”
Lal glanced back at both of them where she stood on the
edge of the hilltop. “The point being, we don’t have much choice, and this hill
is as close to a defensive position as were likely to find before dark.” They’d
coaxed the huge Sorosuub speeder up to the crest of a bulge in the grasslands,
a modest hilltop that afforded them a clear view for miles. The Sorosuub X-10
sat like an armored blister on the spine of the hill. The vehicle was squat and
wide-bodied, like an Iridonian turtle dragon with its horned skull and spiked
limbs drawn inside its shell to bear down against an acid squall.
On her palmtop, Lal looked through AyVee’s eyes as the
little droid soared high above the ground, searching for any signs of movement.
The droid also did an occasional terrain scan, pulsing a sensor beam from his
under-chassis to update the ancient map the Jedi had downloaded into Lal's
computer. Twice already, Lal had been forced to redirect AyVee’s lagging
concentration; curiosity had sent him zipping after a flight of manta-wings
drifting low for an afternoon feed. And he had dropped altitude to have a chat
with a decidedly lonely communications relay droid sitting in a dry gully
several kilometers back.
On the screen she could see the tiny image of Canderous,
far below AyVee, setting up perimeter charges. For a moment, Lal wondered where
the Mandalorian got all the explosives he gleefully put into play. Zaalbar was
also out there, somewhere, his fur blending in with the tall dun-colored
grasses, tracking the spoor of kath hounds. Lal didn’t like the Wookiee being
alone out there in the long grasses, but figured he was more than a match for a
kath hound or two.
Lal hooked the palmtop to her belt and sighed. The sun
was low enough that it made long-legged spiders of their shadows, scattering
them wide across the hill’s rounded surface. Behind her, Carth flicked on a
bulky heater pack. Inside it, trinium coils began to warm up with a hum,
sending out a sphere of dull heat. He glanced at Lal and managed to summon up
half a smile for her benefit. But she could sense his mounting frustration. She
smiled back and watched him as he tossed
“It’s good for you,” he told
“Just what I always wanted,”
Carth laughed and wiped crumbs from his mouth with the
back of his sleeve. “Dust flavor is the best,” he joked. “One good thing about
these protein blocks, they actually brush your teeth while you’re eating…”
“Better not give any to the Carpet, then,” Lal said.
“Tend to doubt it, kid,” Carth said. “You don’t really
eat those things do you?”
“Never seen Ryloth, huh?” Carth asked.
Carth grunted and nodded. “Heatstorms make these weird
convection patterns in the Sandlands. At mid-sun, the sand gets stirred into
the air and forms fractal patterns, held together by static discharge. They
spin around like kilometer-wide snowflakes…”
“What’s a snowflake?”
Carth stared at her in blank surprise. “It didn’t snow on
Taris?”
“Maybe it did at one point in time,” Lal said. “They’d
been engineering weather for so many centuries that the seasons were all
bollicksed up.”
“Pity,” Carth sighed, grinning at both of them. “You
ladies would love the snow sheets of Auris Prime. Little resort world just off
the Koornacht. Low gravity, so the skiing is insane.”
“Never found much value in resort worlds,” Canderous
said, rejoining them, “at least, not beyond what could be looted and pillaged.
Heh. Nothing like a resort world for booty, of course.”
“For what?”
“Treasure,” Lal explained.
Canderous seemed to think about it for a moment and
shrugged. “That too.”
“Great,” Carth hissed, his mood souring, “color
commentary from the bloodthirsty savage.”
“Heh,” Canderous chuckled, turning to Lal. “Charges are
set. Belly-poppers loaded with Free-Shot. Should rip the guts out of any
quadruped that gets curious.
“Just make sure you don’t go sleepwalking, Joygirl,” he
pointed a finger at
“Just going to eat that raw, are you, Carpet?” Lal
murmured, her nose wrinkling up.
“Ugh,”
“Yeah,” Carth nodded, “I think dinner’s over. I’m gonna
take first watch.”
*
Revan smiled beneath that iron mask and glanced down at
Malak, trusted, loyal Malak. Before them, stretched over every surface of a
bridge suspended over the LowCity canyons of Taris, stood a hundred Jedi
Knights from every corner of the known galaxy, their fists raised into the air;
lightsabers gleamed into the golden morning. And behind the hundred Jedi stood
the elite guard of the Republic, cheering, all staring at Revan.
Revan stood on a makeshift podium; a hovering STAP
floating in the midst of a blocked intersection. Never had Revan seen so many
Jedi in a single place. Revan could hardly believe there were so many…
“This…is the dawn of a new day,” Revan cried out, not
knowing where the words had been born. “A new season! When you find yourselves
at a quiet moment of your life, looking back on the path you walked, you will
always be able to say, ‘I stood in the first light of that first day! I was
there! I made it happen!’ Today is the day when we stare the darkness in the
eye, when we do not turn. Today we stand and say, ‘YOU
A roar rose up, cheering Revan’s words.
Later, Revan and Malak walked the
“Eager,” Revan sighed. “You say that like it’s a good
thing…”
Malak turned and frowned at his best friend. “Well…isn’t
it? I thought…”
“Mal, this isn’t going to be like the few skirmishes
we’ve been in so far…We’ll be fighting fleets! Armies! Eager is going to get
these Padawans killed! On Coruscant, they taught us fear was the path to the
Dark Side…but I rather think it’ll be the thing that keeps us all alive. They
must learn that. I don’t need fearless men!”
Malak glanced back at the other Jedi walking with them
and shrugged.
They came around the
Malak nodded and gestured to a young woman approaching
through the archway. She was a Jedi, small of frame with eyes like dark coals.
Her close cropped dark hair framed her soft face in curled spikes. She fell in
beside Revan and nodded curtly.
“We’ve run the Hutt aground as you wished, Revan. He had
all but abandoned his operation here in LowCity. He was trying to escape when
we picked him up. He had…several Mandalorian thugs with him, Revan…”
“Thank you, Sideen,” Revan said, glancing at Malak. “We
would speak with this creature.”
Tanka the Hutt was a mound of quivering pale flesh,
laying in swollen coils in the center of a large, dimly lit chamber. Several
Republic warriors stood guard on the Hutt, while other soldiers stood over a
trio of manacled Mandalorians in a corner. A cluster of nearly naked humans and
aliens huddled fearfully together under the watchful eye of one of the Jedi Padawans.
Revan’s gaze swept over the naked ones, and saw several
children in their midst. Utterly terrified. Revan turned to glare coolly at
Tanka the Hutt and strode up before the fat-jowled monstrosity. “Well. Quite an
honor, I’m sure,” Revan hissed. “Your name is feared across half the quadrant.”
“Eee chutta,” Tanka rumbled, his voice like wet thunder.
His slitted yellow eyes narrowed angrily as he glanced back and forth at the
Jedi and soldiers assembled before him.
Revan chuckled at the Hutt’s foul mouth. “You’re going to
tell us where you were going, Tanka. Your Syndicate can’t save you now.”
“Mucha chaap paak, Jedi. Nee chuupa no Pazaak-cha.”
“Nevertheless, you will speak. Your operation here is
shattered. No more slaving, I’m afraid. These people are now free.” Revan
turned and eyed a young girl. Revan smiled and walked over to take the girl’s
hand. She was tall and slender, her white skin frosted with a down of silver
fur. Stripes cut across her fur in dark slashes. She glanced up at Revan with
fearful orange eyes.
“It’s alright now, child,” Revan soothed, smoothing the
girl’s ragged silver hair. “You are free. Tell me your name, girl.”
“J-Juhani…”
*
Lal awoke with a start and glanced around. Zaalbar
hovered over her, grunting softly as he looked around in the night. His wet
black nose twitched as he scented the air. Lal rose silently beside the Wookiee
and her hand slipped towards the lightsaber at her belt. Carth was up, pulling
a long rifle from the cargo bay of the Sorosuub. Canderous drifted beside Lal
like a ghost.
“Movement beyond the perimeter,” Canderous whispered. He
nodded his head to the west, and Lal's eyes followed. Beyond the broad sweep of
the hill, she saw a blanket of thick white fog clinging to the top of the
grass. In the distance, she could see dark swirls wafting through the pale
mists, forming milky shapes that swam beneath the cloudy surface and
disappeared.
Lal fumbled for her palmtop and flicked it on. “AyVee,”
she whispered sharply, “up. Now.” At her command, the little droid whizzed up
out of the speeder and jetted into the sky. She turned back to Canderous.
“They’re not coming any closer…are they?”
He shook his head and squinted out into the distance.
“Don’t quite know why. They’re all around, though. Waiting for something…”
Carth stepped up beside Lal and hefted one of his
blasters against his shoulder. “Doesn’t really matter what they’re waiting for.
You set the charges, right Canderous? So, when they do come it’ll look like a
Mandalorian holiday. What we need to do is lay down some fields of fire to take
out anything that gets through.”
Lal looked at him, searching his eyes; she found the
steel she needed and gave a nod. “Canderous, north face. Zaalbar, you go with
him and set up on the opposite side of the Speeder. Stay in sight of each
other. Carth, south side of the hill, and I’ll take the eastern face.”
“Lal,”
Lal sighed and glanced down at her palmtop. AyVee flew in
a wide circle high above the ground, peering down. His scanners sliced into the
infrared spectrum, stripping away the sheets of cold white fog and painting the
ground beneath in blazing reds and vulgar greens. Lal sucked in a breath as she
saw the powerful bodies whipping about on the screen; they snarled and butted
heads against densely muscled flanks. Tails snapped and teeth gnashed and
blackened talons clawed at the ground.
AyVee flew over the writhing mass of kath hounds, banking
sharply. He released a tiny trembling whistle as he moved, and on the screen,
Lal saw a figure standing amidst the swarm of beasts. Tall and lean in the
infrared scan, burning red and orange. The figure glanced upwards, directly at
AyVee, and Lal saw its eyes, pitch black against the heat of its body.
The screen erupted into static.
“What the bloody hell,” Lal hissed, frowning at the
palmtop. She felt a shiver of electricity crawl down her spine and she glanced
up into the dark sky. A pin prick of blue light jabbed through the black
curtain of night and blossomed into a burning rose of fire. She heard AyVee cry
out sharply, sounding like a human. Smoke trailed downward, making a fiery arc
into the ground. “AyVee!” Lal called.
The droid fell to the ground enfolded in sheets of
lightning and flame, illuminating the pacing kath hounds in shades of red. Lal
gasped angrily, hooking the palmtop back onto her belt. She squinted out into
the darkness and saw the shapes surge forward all at once. Her hand dropped to
the hilt of her lightsaber reflexively. She gave a tiny shake of her head and
reached instead for the rifle slung over her shoulder. She brought it down
against her hip and waited for Canderous’ charges to blow. She fumbled with the
rifle, couching it in her arms, and then bracing it against her shoulder.
Strangely, it just didn’t feel…comfortable in her grip.
With an annoyed sigh, Lal turned to
“Down on one knee,” Lal said to the girl. She moved in
behind
The first explosion slammed a sheet of light and blood
into the air. Another followed, bursting hound flesh into flaming gobbets.
Detonations cracked and whumped all around them as the kath hounds charged
madly towards the hill from all sides. Torn bodies flew through the air amidst
clouds of fire and thunder. The mists were ripped away by compression waves and
wet heat.
And still they came.
The second ring of charges went, shattering bones and
shredding meat. Corpses fell in pieces, littering the grasslands and painting
the ground red. Carbon charred the air with its smoking stench. Lal couldn’t
even begin to count the bodies, but heard the keening wail of the pack as more
charged through. Their numbers were thin, now; instead of a wave, they surged
forth in rivulets of churning muscle and flesh. Snorting, snarling, growling,
they tore up the hill.
Canderous and Zaalbar opened fire; Canderous with his
heavy blaster rifle, spraying energy bolts in sheets down at the creatures;
Zaalbar hurling plasma spears from his bowcaster that tore bodies apart. Carth
unleashed with both his weapons, surgically dropping kath hounds with devilish
accuracy. He fired from the hip, or stiff-armed, snapping shots of with casual
skill.
But she had only a second to think on this. She almost
didn’t notice the lightsabers humming in her palms. Didn’t question how they’d
gotten there. She didn’t stop to ponder the wave of liquid electricity coursing
through her muscles. She didn’t think. She didn’t wonder.
She simply moved.
Propelled by a phantom gale, she flew down the hill, into
the midst of the charging hounds. Her lightsabers struck like lightning bolts
crackling in her fists. She spun and slashed, whirled and thrust. She dropped
to one knee and whipped both blades in a low arc around her body. Flesh sizzled
as bodies fell around her in a blur. Hounds screamed like men as her blades
burned through muscle and bone.
The pure unadulterated ecstasy of motion flooded her
senses, and she felt herself becoming a storm, imagined a whirl of wind and
light surrounding her. Her blades sang back at her as she spun and twisted them
around her.
And all at once, she stopped, because nothing around her
lived. She glanced around in shock at the sudden stillness, and looked back up
the hill. Carth rose from a crouch and finished off a kath hound that had
fallen only a few feet away.
“
“I’m f-fine,”
“You did well, honey,” Lal whispered, kissing
“What has driven these kath hounds to this madness?”
Canderous wondered aloud. “It was as if something was…driving them onward. Like
a fire.”
“Never seen anything like it,” Carth murmured, fixing a
questing gaze on Lal. She suddenly realized he wasn’t talking about the
maddened kath hounds. She glanced down at the lightsabers, now joined into a
single cylinder, hanging at her belt. “You really are a
Jedi,” he said breathlessly.
Lal turned away from him to stare out across the dark
plains. She could feel something standing out there in the night. That
billowing shadow she’d seen the night before. “Something is out there,” she
said quietly. “It destroyed AyVee. It’s controlling the kath hounds…”
Canderous scowled dubiously at her and shook his head.
“How? How is such a thing possible?”
“The Force,” she whispered back, shrugging her shoulders.
“Don’t ask me to explain it…” She returned her gaze to the mist-drenched
grasslands, feeling that presence again. Like a weight leaning against her
inside a dark closet. “It’s out there, and I have to stop it.”
Zaalbar howled at her and shook his shaggy head. Carth
nodded in agreement. “He’s right, Lal. You can’t go out there alone. Not until
it’s light. You asked us to help you, after all. We’ll do this together, when
the sun’s up.”
“Much as I hate to admit, ‘Public’s right,” Canderous
grunted. “Only a fool would go out there alone. It stinks of a trap.”
“I’m not alone,” she told them. She was about to add: The Force is my ally, but had no idea where that thought
came from. Or perhaps, she did know. But she refused to give voice to it.
“Evading a trap requires knowledge of it. And I know. I’ll stay in contact with
my wristcomm.”
“Lal,” Carth warned, “This is stupid! Don’t--”
“Carth,” she cut in sharply. “I’m still who I am. I
didn’t survive three years of Taris by being stupid, did I? Did I?”
“Then don’t be stupid now!” Carth snarled back. “Dammit,
Lal…the Council is gonna get you killed doing this!”
Canderous chuckled and nodded. “He said it, not me. Of
course, I have already told you this…”
“Would you all stop worrying? You sound like old women.
Besides, when have you ever known me to go into a situation unprepared? I have
a plan.”
*
Which was, of course, an utter lie.
Lal trudged knee-deep through the thick, clinging mists.
It tugged at her feet and legs, and squeezed icy fingers against her flesh
through her Slipsuit. The fog covered the land for miles, like stale custard,
and she could no longer even feel the grass whispering against her legs. Looking
around, she wondered if she was even on Dantooine any longer. She could have
accidentally stepped through her dreams into some hazy nightmare. Or perhaps,
with a single unknowing step, she had leaped far above the ground, and now
walked across the clouds. An absurd thought, perhaps. But she had no indication
of the ground. Not any longer.
Then, without her active knowledge, the land swept
upwards in a broad, gentle slope, pulling free of the white mists. Standing at
the crest of the slope was the ragged shadow; the fluttering, billowing thing
that was master of the pack. Lal paused and glared up at the shadow figure. She
made to climb the slope, but realized she had company. To either side of her,
twenty or so feet away, there crouched two of the largest kath hounds she had
yet seen. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched them. Built like
mountains with squat, powerful legs, these hounds were each crowned with a pair
of long, knobby horns thrusting out from either side of their massive skulls. Thick,
heavy incisors stabbed forth crookedly from their silently gnashing jaws.
“They will not strike
unless it is commanded,” the shadow whispered, its words worming
their way inside her head. Lal felt her skin prickle and shrivel as the thing
spoke in her mind. She felt the urge to claw the sound of it from her ears. “Who are you to come in the night, Jedi?”
“I am Lal Sid—Lal Shan…and you…what are
you?”
“A shadow. A ghost. Nothing more than a memory. A memory
of anger. Of sadness. Of betrayal. Of loyalties lost. Once chained and manacled
in a death ill-deserved. Now there is only this. And…hunger.”
“A memory? What is that supposed to mean? Am I to believe
you’re some ghost?”
“Once there was life. Now…no longer. Only will. Only
desire. Only power.”
“Why are you controlling these creatures? Making them
kill? What do you want?”
“It is the way of the Force. The Pack obeys because it is
the way. Want is unknown. There is no want. There is desire. There is hunger.
There is will. You have come seeking. Seeking to fill the expanse inside you.
Seeking to know. Knowledge exists…”
Lal frowned at the spectral thing and took a step
forward. “What? What do you know of me?”
“Only that you have been here before. That life for you
ended and was begun again. Here.”
Lal slowly moved closer, watching the hounds out of the
corner of her eye. “You’re not making any sense. Speak plainly!”
“That is not why you have come. Your answers must be
twisted like the roots…like the roots of the Grove! You seek the shadow! And
you will find it! For you are blinded. Blinded even as you walk…”
Lal snarled and leaped forward. Her lightsaber sprang to
life, unleashing both blades. The hounds charged her with a roar, and she found
herself leaping above them as their horns crashed together. She swung her legs
up and over her head, tumbling in the air to land behind the creatures. She
stabbed her blade forward, like a spear, burning a hole into the skull of one
hound. She twisted the hilt apart into two blades, and swept downward into the
thick neck of the second.
Lal stepped back as both creatures fell dead. She glanced
up at the shadow and hurled herself towards it. Her blades spun in her hands,
slashing bright lavender circles through the shadow’s billowing body. But she
cut through thin air. And the shadow remained before her. It lowered its hooded
face towards her and burned down upon her with glowing red eyes.
“Your blades will find nothing here. You will find
nothing here. The Grove. The Grove…”
“Damn you!” Lal cried angrily. “What are you? What are you?”
“I am the Grove…”
It gave a final moist hiss within her thoughts and then disappeared. Lal jerked
backwards, shock and disbelief trickling down into her belly in cold, heavy
droplets. She glanced around suddenly, and saw the mists evaporating, burning
away before her eyes.
Heat flooded the smooth planes of her face and she
glanced up into the sky. The sun soared up from beneath the horizon like a
firebird. It tore a path through the night, stripping away the darkness in an
instant. Its burning arms painted the sky orange and white, and dizziness spun
Lal's brain inside her skull. She gasped, feeling a wave of icy nausea spilling
forth from her belly.
The sun suddenly paused in its too-swift ascent to glare
down on her like a single orange eye. And then, blades of light pierced her,
and she fell to the grass. She groaned and writhed, trying to stand. But her
muscles were rubber.
A shadow fell across her and she reached desperately for
her lightsaber…
“Lal?” Carth's voice called above her. His shape blotted
the sun’s glare from her eyes. “Lal, are you alright? What happened to you?”
“I don’t know,” she murmured, letting him help her up.
She huddled weakly in his strong arms as her stomach quivered. He stood her up,
but she fell heavily against him. “I feel so…so strange…”
She glanced around and saw the Sorosuub speeder hovering
to a stop a few feet away from her. Zaalbar howled angrily from the top hatch
of the speeder, waving his long arms above his head. Lal listened to his
growling, warbling rant and she shook her head.
“No, that’s absurd,” she told the Wookiee.
“No, Lal,” Carth said, holding her tightly to him.
“You’ve been out here the entire night. We’ve been looking for you all morning.
Are you hurt? Let me take a look…”
“I’m fine,” she gasped, shaking her head. “How long did
you say?”
“It’s been…it’s been at least ten hours since you took
off, Lal…”
“Ten?” she cried, staggering drunkenly away from him. He
caught her before she could fall. “N-no…It was only an hour…two at most…I saw
it…I spoke to it…”
“It? It? You…you
must have passed out.”
“No. No, I must get to the Grove. That must be where it
is…where the power is coming from. I have to…”
“You’re not going anywhere, Lal,” Carth told her. “You’re
in no condition to do anything! Look, I’m taking you back to the Enclave.
We’ll--”
“No, Carth! You’re not…I’m not going back just yet! I
have to get to that Grove, and that’s what I intend to do! I’ll bloody-well
walk if I must!”
“Dammit! You…you’re even more stubborn than Bastila!” he
sighed angrily and glanced away. “Alright, Lal. We’ll do it your way.”
*
The Sorosuub speeder rumbled and trembled around her as
Lal tried not to sleep. The dreams came every time she dozed off, it seemed,
and she was tired of them. Tired of seeing Revan hiding from her, within all
that armor; tired of seeing Malak innocent and loyal. And there was that
woman…the Jedi. Sideen. That was what Revan had called her. Why did she have
the same name as Lal?
Lal had to stop herself; Sideen was not her real name.
Shan was. Perhaps the question was, why did Lal take the name
of this woman? Was she…were they the same person? Lal reflexively
touched her hair, remembering that she often felt uncomfortable with it being
so long. That’s why she pinned it up and tied it back to keep it out of her
way. This woman…Sideen…her hair was almost a
perfect length for what Lal did…it would never get in the way or fall over her
eyes at the worst possible moment…
She tried recalling the woman’s face in her dream, but
could not. The details, the faces in her dreams were only clear while she was
dreaming them. Not after. Never after…
Lal shook her head to clear her thoughts and gazed out
the windshield. Beside her, Carth drove the heavy speeder into a series of
ancient riverbeds, now grown over and run riot with long grasses. He had to
tune up the repulsorlift-feedback because the ground was deceptively uneven
beneath the tall grass, and sharp stones and boulders jutted suddenly up,
threatening to tear the speeder’s belly open. Canyon walls rose up in shades of
gray and white, bleached by the sun, forming meandering channels and dry,
ox-bow valleys.
In the rear cabin of the speeder, Zaalbar divided his
time between piecing together AyVee’s scorched parts and teaching
“Don’t worry, Little guy,”
Zaalbar grunted dubiously at her confidence in his
skills. Then he glanced up and snarled at her, pointing a claw down at the pile
of bolts left over. She glanced down and shrugged innocently.
“I thought there was always supposed to be stuff left
over when you take something apart…”
Lal shook her head. “
Carth just flicked his eyes at her and continued driving
in silence. Lal sighed and nodded. “Okay…I wonder if Canderous is ever going to
get tired of sitting on the top of this bloody can…”
The Mandalorian rode up top, his leg dangling lazily down
through the open hatch. Though he’d claimed it was a good vantage point to spot
any more kath hounds, Lal was sure he just wanted to get away from the rest of
them. Lal often thought she was the only thing keeping Canderous from killing
all of them in a fit of annoyance…
She wondered how long that would last, though. The man
remained a mystery to her. A psychotic killing machine with a sense of…honor?
Nobility? Perhaps that wasn’t so strange. She’d known a lot of killers in her
time on Taris. Many of them had problems with impulse control, of course, and
working as a hired gun for Davik was just the sort of release they needed.
Mindless thugs, mostly, with no concept of moderation. They were like
sledgehammers, terrifying only because of their ability to crudely and
completely pulverize things.
But a few were truly madmen, as precise as a surgical
laser, cutting away exactly what they intended and nothing more. Such men often
had rituals. Routines. Soulless, calculating logic. They adhered to their codes
of conduct, like Canderous seemed to. He was not a brute, even though he
relished killing. She felt safe with him, so long as she followed his codes.
Unfortunately, she didn’t really know what those codes were. She didn’t fancy
the thought of what would happen if she unwittingly stepped outside his invisible
boundaries.
But every man had his limits. Within those limits, they
were tiny little gods, full of confidence and strength enough to snap anyone in
two. But pushed outside those limits, they tended to break down. Lal knew how
to push them beyond their limits. But further, in order to survive, she had
learned to impose her own boundaries on them once they were outside. She
doubted any of her old techniques would work on Canderous.
They barely seemed to be working on Carth.
And while Carth was certainly being pushed further and
further outside his own limits, Lal was equally certain she had no interest in
manipulating him. He was already being manipulated, in her estimation; by the
Jedi Council, by the Republic High Command…She almost wanted to just grab Carth
and take off to some alien paradise, as
Instead, she had this world, with its Jedi and its
nightmares and ghosts, and its madmen and tyrants…
She turned to Carth once more and watched him for a few
minutes as he drove. “You’re upset with me again.”
“I’m not upset with you,” he said, glancing briefly at her.
“You’re upset.”
“No. I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. I know you well enough by now to know when
you’re upset.”
He pressed a hand to his forehead and groaned. “Lal, I’m
not upset, but you’re driving me crazy, over here…”
“I get that a lot, actually,” she chuckled, giving him a
wicked grin. “However, I think you’ll find that it’s almost impossible to stay
mad at me.”
Carth sighed and released a grudging smile. “I’m not mad
at you.”
“Not anymore.”
“Gimme a break, huh?” he grinned, “I’m trying to drive
and you’re distracting me.”
“I can think of a much more distracting form of
distraction, Carth…”
He chuckled softly. “Lal…I want some answers. I think I’m
entitled. Besides…we both know you’re really just trying to distract yourself…”
Her smile faded with a sigh and she stared down at her
hands in her lap. “I…I suppose so. I wish I had the answers for you, Carth.
There’s…something in this Grove…whatever it is,
it’s responsible for what’s happening to these animals. I intend to stop it.
Beyond that, I don’t know what to tell you…”
“And this is what the Council wanted you for? This is why
I was sent to help Bastila rescue you? To stop…some thing from messing around
with some local wildlife? Pull the other one, huh?”
“Carth…I…you…you’re problem isn’t with me. It’s with the
bloody Council. I honestly don’t know what this has to do with anything…they
keep feeding me a line about needing my expertise to fight Malak…but that’s
patently absurd. I don’t remember…a…thing…” She caught herself drifting away,
her mind filling with dreams…She shook her head and looked over at Carth. “You
obviously know more about it than I do…About Revan and Malak….”
“Nobody really knows a whole lot about Revan. Always wore
that damned mask. Malak…I heard tell that he used to be a slave. I don’t know
if there’s any truth to it, but stories say he was trained from childhood as a
pitfighter on Nal Hutta. He’d be a lethal bastard even he wasn’t a Jedi.
Well…former Jedi….”
“But…my face…my name…You don’t recognize…you never met
me?”
“Lal, you…I’d never forget your face…The uh, the Jedi,
and Revan and Malak…they didn’t exactly fraternize. And certainly not with the
junior officers. Besides, it wasn’t like I was involved with them during the
entire war. I mean, my squadron had a lot of missions with the Jedi, but we
were usually flying escort, or high cover. Or we’d be knocking the hell out of
some target while they were ground-pounding. Not a lot of time for chit-chat
when you’re strapped into the cockpit of a Sweep-Wing that’s just dumped steel
on a target and is pulling gees off the hard deck, climbing back up the well to
get back to the hangar before enemy sensors could paint you for a concussion
missile…”
“So…so why did the Council want you to escort Bastila to
find me?”
“Well…first thing you gotta understand is, the mission
went south from the get-go. We ran afoul of a Sith interdictor. Pulled us right
out of hyperspace with a gravity projector. The Endar Spire
was just a frigate. Not a battle wagon. They hit us with everything they had.
All the Jedi on board got killed. It was supposed to be a task force. I think
there were five other Jedi on board. A unit of commandoes trained for urban
ops, too. None of ‘em made it out.
“When Revan and Malak turned their war against the
Republic, I was running my own squadron on the Aurora Star.
When we began coordinating with the Jedi on Coruscant, they gave me a promotion
to Captain and put me into special ops training. I had a lot of experience from
back when the Mandies were trying to invade Telos. After I made Captain, I was
driving a sleek little Corellian corvette. Almost as small as the Hawk, but with a hell of a lot more firepower and armor. The
Black Hammer. Technically, the Hammer was a capital ship, but she was really a fast
transport. Designed for quick Down-Well hops. Fire support, troop transport,
that sort of thing. I put down a lot of Jedi over the course of the first year.
Sometimes, I had to go in with them on whatever op they were pulling. Usually,
I’d just stay on-station and provide cover. I flew on more missions with Jedi
in my hold than anybody. Right up until the Hammer got
blasted out of the sky. Because of that experience, Command shipped me off to
Coruscant, working with the Council directly.”
“The Council was originally on Coruscant, right?” she
asked with a frown.
He nodded. “The Jedi decided to move their leadership
from Coruscant once Malak proved he could touch them there. Rather than have
their entire leadership situated in one place, they split them up. Now…there’s
no one Council anywhere. But these
guys…Master Vandar is just about the oldest Jedi around…Wherever he is, that’s
probably gonna be the senior Council of the moment if you follow my meaning.”
Lal absorbed his words with a slow nod. It brought
certain other things to light that had given her pause. If the Council was in
hiding, and had spread its numbers across the galaxy, then it was little wonder
they had no one available to deal with the Grove. It also explained why none of
the Council members had embarked on this mission; they were each too important
to risk. Better to leave it to an amnesiac who, if nothing else, was eminently
expendable…
“I wish your droid hadn’t gotten himself fried,” Carth
sighed, glancing down at the map on his wrist-comp. “We could use a little
aerial recon right about now.” Carth brought the Sorosuub to a halt and pointed
up ahead, where the canyons began to narrow into a warren of ancient channels
and dry waterways. “Not gonna be able to get this beast through there.”
“And obviously,” Lal added, “visibility will
be…compromised.” And so, she had come to the moment she had been dreading. A
cold knot of desperation twisted her insides and sent a shrill twinge up into
her chest. She sighed heavily and glanced at Carth. “This…is where we part
company, I should think. I’m going to have to do this next bit on my own.”
She made to get up from her seat, but Carth grabbed her
wrist and stared up into her face. “Lal. That’s…that’s not wise. There could be
an ambush laying in wait around each of those twists and bends up ahead. Hell,
you could hide a whole army in there and we’d never see it…You’re hell with
that lightsaber of yours, but…”
“But what Carth?”
“But…think, Lal. Would you do this on Taris? It’s just
not smart…”
“There are a number of things I did on Taris that were
not smart,” she told him pointedly. He
lowered his eyes and released her wrist.
“Okay. I had that coming…”
She smiled and knelt down beside his seat, taking his
hand in both of hers. “Carth, I’m glad I did at
least a few of those things. If I hadn’t, you’d likely be dead now. And I
wouldn’t have the chance to…”
“To do what?”
She leaned forward and kissed him. “That.”
He smiled against her lips, and let his eyes trail down
from her face to her throat, to her body sheathed in glistening black.
“Well…we’ve done that before…”
She chuckled and rose to her feet, smoothing a hand
through his hair. “And we’ll do that again. That is, of course, if you decided
I’m not a tourist anymore…”
His brow wrinkled and he rose to stand before her.
“Lal…don’t do this to prove anything to me…When I said that…I was just
upset…I…”
She laid her fingers over his mouth and smiled lushly.
“I’m not doing it to prove anything to you, flyboy.”
“Alright…fair enough. But why are you doing this, Lal?”
She wrapped her arms around herself and shrugged her
shoulders. She glanced out the windshield at the maze of canyons waiting for
her. “Whatever is out there, Carth, it’s another piece of who I really am. Not
the miserable woman who kills people and whores herself out for a piece of
scum.”
“And does this mean Lal's…out of the
business?”
She grinned playfully and squeezed his hand. “Out of the
business? Who knows? But at least, when I know myself…who I am really…well, maybe I’ll be able to make an informed choice.”
She awoke from a feral nightmare, filled with savage
growls, and gnashing fangs, of claws tearing forth from tender fingertips and
rending innocent flesh. The scent of fear filled her nose with its briny lure,
and she realized it was her own. A Jedi does not fear!
Her yellow eyes flashed open and her slitted pupils drank
light from the darkness desperately. A growl rumbled at the back of her throat,
and she glanced around furiously, seeking the enemies from her nightmares, the
prey from her ancestral memories, now given faces she remembered all too well.
But all she found were the trees.
Twisted gnarled trunks writhing upwards around her, like
bars in some vast arboreal cage, penning her in no matter where she turned. The
sparse dusting of silver fur on her pale flesh bristled and she yowled an
animal cry of helpless rage.
Juhani could feel her rational mind slipping further and
further away. She tried to hold onto it desperately, but the tighter she held,
the more it flowed through her fingers. Tears ran freely down her cheeks, and
she hurled herself into a run, ripping away the ground beneath her naked feet.
She blazed a blind path through the knotted trees, seeking a release from the
eternal twilight that clung in the air. But every path she took was the same.
She felt as if she had run for months, never finding an exit from the prison of
trees, never finding the path home.
But she had no home. Not anymore. Beasts had no home beyond
the wilderness. They didn’t deserve to walk as men did, and to know the warmth
of love. She collapsed to her knees with a moan and glanced down at her robes,
now torn to ragged shreds. She was a beast, an animal; beasts did not wear the
clothes of men.
Didn’t deserve! Didn’t need!
She unsheathed the slender claws from her fingertips and
ripped at her clothing with a snarl. She bared her flesh, her fur to the
endless half-night around her, tearing at the belt around her narrow waist. Her
claws scraped across the metal cylinder hanging on her belt and she paused.
An elegant tool…refined weapon…
Her talons closed tightly around it, but her muscles
froze. She needed that tool. She would keep that tool. Yes.
Yes…
She rose with a sobbing groan and pressed herself against
a bent and bowed tree. She buried her scarred face against it and cried.
Despair pounded against her shoulders, wracked her chest. There would be no
release for Juhani. She was alone and lost in darkness. Trapped in the Grove.
Then, something tickled against the inside of her skull;
the animal awareness of prey. Her yellow eyes flashed brightly, and the pungent
scent of walking, living meat straightened her spine.
Not alone…
*
Lal's nose wrinkled at the stench of rotting flesh.
Bloated corpses of long dead kath hounds lay torn open in the withered brown
grass that lay before a stand of twisting, crooked trees. A cold breeze crawled
against her skin as she stared into the murky depths between the trunks. It
seemed rather a small stand of hunched over trees, cowering and huddling
together like frightened old women. But with every step she took towards the
Grove, the trees seemed to uncoil and loom over her, as if they grew taller
before her.
Lal hesitated as she passed a carcass, and stared down at
it. The body bore gouges of moist, dark red, carved into the swollen flesh,
around the face, the legs, the ribs; it looked as if something had ripped its
throat and belly open…with…teeth. She glanced at the other bodies and saw similar
damage, as if…as if the creatures had torn each other to ribbons. Fighting
amongst themselves.
And the smell of their old death, like syrup spread
thinly over feces, dug into her lungs and trickled into her belly. The longer
she stood there, the thicker the stink became. She pressed the back of her hand
against her lips and screwed her mouth shut against the gagging that surged up
her throat.
Lal staggered forward as her stomach churned. The air
seemed cleaner closer to the Grove. She lurched towards the trees and fresh
air. A dim part of her mind warned her; told her the stink was driving her
towards the entrance to the Grove. But she had no choice. Forward was her
mission, her goal. And forward she had to go.
When she finally took the step forward, into the trees,
the air shifted and grew still, as if she had pushed through a bubble. The dry
reek of dust fluttered into her nose and darkness swallowed her. Lal's blood
froze in her veins and she glanced around, looking for some explanation, something
to justify the black pall hanging between the twisted trees.
She whirled around, suddenly frantic to leave, but saw
behind her a measureless expanse of cracked, withered trees and darkness. She
could not see past them, could not see outside of the Grove, even though she
had only taken a single step inside. Lal made a desperate dash towards what had to be the exit, but she only crashed through murky
darkness, and nearly tripped over a thick cluster of roots thrusting up from
the caked soil.
She dropped to one knee, and suddenly felt a wave of
pressure gusting down against her back. Instinct twisted her body, and a pale
shape blistered down towards her with a snarl. Fire burned along Lal's bicep
and she fell backwards, thrusting herself away from the attack. Rolling
backwards onto her feet, she caught a glimpse of bright yellow eyes. Her
lightsaber leaped into her hand and she ignited a single blade.
In the pale lavender glow, she saw a feral creature
crouched on all fours, snarling at her. Lal thrust forward with her weapon, but
the creature dashed backwards in a flash of silver. It leaped upwards and
ricocheted from tree to tree in a white blur. Lal tried to follow the
creature’s path, but lost it in the darkness.
She stood there for a moment, realizing the beast had
just completely eluded her. She hadn’t even gotten a good look at it. Lal
glanced down to the wound on her arm and saw four red lines carved into her
suit and flesh.
“What was that thing?” she gasped, closing down her
lightsaber.
“Enemy…”
Lal whipped around and looked up to see the shadow from
the previous night, towering above her. Its body was stretched absurdly long,
and its arms coursed out to either side like ribbons fluttering in a stiff
wind. Its body bent sharply in several places, curling its head down towards
Lal.
“It wants only to kill you.”
“Of course,” Lal groaned. “I’m not playing your game,
ghost. How do I get out of this place?”
“Death is the only release. Your only path from this
place will be painted with blood. Only your rage will free you…”
“Rage…? Oh…I believe I understand…I have to kill this thing in order to get out, don’t I? But…but that’s
what you want, isn’t it?”
“There is no want…only desire…”
“Quite. I’ve heard that before. Well, I’ve no intention
of playing your game, creature!”
“
“No. I won’t. Not until you tell me what you are.”
“What…I…am? I…I don’t remember…I…I…hunger! Release!
Freedom! Death!”
The shadow splintered apart before her eyes and exploded in a thousand
droplets spraying into the air. Lal covered her eyes and dropped to one knee.
When she glanced around, the shadow was utterly gone. She spun about, looking
for it, but saw only the crooked trees.
And the white-bodied animal, nestled in the arm of a tree
before her. Lal gasped and dodged aside as the thing pounced. It landed beside
her and sprang back into the air, lunging out with its claws. Lal hurled
herself backwards into a handspring. Her feet flipped up beneath her and caught
the creature’s chin, hammering it backwards.
It hit the ground hard and sprawled in a loose tangle of
white limbs. Lal peered down at it and gasped. At first glance, it seemed to be
a half naked woman, clad only in tattered, soiled rags. Her skin was almost
completely white, and was frosted with a thin layer of…fur. Dark stripes
slashes across her fur, streaking delicately down her cheeks and brow; across
her lean, muscular belly and her lanky thighs. A wild nest of silver hair
splashed around her head on the ground, framing her face in a manner that Lal
found…familiar.
A lightsaber hung from the alien woman’s belt.
The woman’s eyes flashed open, shedding a dim yellow
luminescence; eyeshine, drinking up the ambient light. Her lips peeled back
across slender, needle-like fangs and she hissed.
“Wait!” Lal whispered, holding her hands out defensively.
“I won’t hurt you! You’re a Jedi…”
The woman popped up into a crouch and gazed at Lal in
confusion. Her yellow eyes flickered to the lightsaber in Lal's hand, and then
down to the one hanging from her own ragged belt. “Jedi?” she snarled, cocking
her head to the side.
“Yes…a Jedi! That’s what you are!” The woman had to be a
Cathar, a race of near-humans evolved from massive, predatory felines. She’d
only seen one, once on Taris, forced to fight in the Arena, but she knew of
them; hunted almost to extinction by the Mandalorians, enslaved by the
Hutts…But this one…this one…
“You have a name?” Lal hissed softly.
“Name?”
“Yes, a name! We all have names. Don’t you remember your
name? My name is…is Lal.”
The Cathar woman rose, and Lal saw that she was really
little more than a girl. Barely much older than
“M-my n-name is…Juhani…I think…I…this must be a
dream…I’ve been dreaming…”
“Juhani!” Lal gasped, remembering the alien child from
her dreams. She suddenly saw a clear picture in her mind; the girl, a slave of
Tanka the Hutt…Revan freeing her. “Juhani! I can’t believe this…it’s almost as
if…my dreaming led me to you!”
“How did I get here?” Juhani asked in a trembling voice
thick and heavy with the snarling accent of the Cathar tongue. She frowned as
she gazed at Lal.
“I don’t honestly know, but my suspicion is that we’re
here to amuse the Shadow…”
“Shadow?”
Lal nodded, glancing around warily. “That…that black
shape…it’s somehow the cause of all of this, I believe.”
“The cause…” Juhani muttered, staring blankly into the
darkness. Her face slowly twisted, and fury sketched the soft lines of her
features in sharpened contrast. Her eyes seemed to glow with anger and she
returned her gaze to Lal's face. “What do you know of the cause?” Juhani
demanded. “They sent you didn’t they? To kill me! To destroy the monster! This
must be all your doing!”
“Hold on…”
“Well, I won’t go so easily, human!” Juhani thrust her
palm at Lal and screamed. Lal felt an invisible hammer slam into her chest,
hurling her backwards through the air.
She gasped as a hard wind ripped through her hair, but
gathered her thoughts enough to collapse into a ball. Her feet scraped into the
ground and she leaned forward, skidding backwards at least ten feet. She came
to a halt in a three-point crouch, and saw Juhani charging her. The Cathar held
her lightsaber up above her head, igniting a blue spear of light from the hilt.
“Bloody hell…” Lal groaned, igniting her own weapon. She
lifted her blade to meet Juhani’s and a shower of light splashed forth from the
clashing lightsabers. Juhani’s face was a mask of rage as she pressed down
against Lal's blade. Their lightsabers spat and hissed and snarled, and Lal
pivoted to her right, letting Juhani stagger forward with no blade to resist
her.
Lal danced around behind Juhani and kicked the back of
the Cathar’s knee. Juhani dropped and Lal stepped forward to slide her
lightsaber against the side of her neck. Juhani froze and her eyes rolled down
to see the lavender glare of Lal's weapon.
“I’m not here to kill you, Juhani,” Lal began. “This
thing has done something to you…”
“No,” Juhani hissed tightly, clenching her teeth
together. “You don’t know! I’m a monster! Not fit to walk in the light! This is
my prison!”
“What are you going on about?” Lal cried. “This Shadow
has made you mad…”
“No! I killed her! I did! I lost
control…I killed her…”
“Killed who, Juhani?”
“Stop calling me that!” Juhani suddenly leaned forward
and kicked back, shoving her heel into Lal's pelvis.
Lal staggered back and Juhani spun around, her lightsaber
cutting in a low arc towards Lal's legs. Lal hopped back out of range and
Juhani leaped to her feet and charged again. This time, she whirled her blade
before her in a series of arcs and pinwheels, driving Lal backwards.
“All I am is a beast!” Juhani cried, spinning her
lightsaber furiously at Lal's face and arms. “A monster!” She backed Lal
against a tree and stabbed towards her chest with a roar. Lal pivoted out of
the way and Juhani’s blade burned deeply into the tree bole. Lal maneuvered
behind the Cathar and slammed her elbow into the back of Juhani’s skull.
Lal's momentum spun her body around in a circle and she
hurled her knee into Juhani’s kidney. Juhani cried out in pain and Lal reached
her free hand around the Cathar’s head to grasp her forehead. She then took a
wide step straight back, dragging Juhani with her, head first. She slapped
Juhani’s body down hard against the ground and straddled the stunned woman. Lal
dropped down, jamming her knee across Juhani’s throat. Her other knee crashed
down on Juhani’s forearm, pinning her weapon to the ground.
“Juhani,” Lal growled as the Cathar struggled uselessly
beneath her, “I really have no idea what you’re talking about, but just listen.
Please…”
“I killed my master!” Juhani wailed, closing her eyes. “I
lost control of myself…I lashed out…in anger…and now she’s dead! If you kill
me, it means I am not fit to live…but…if I kill you…then destiny has chosen the
path of the Dark Side…And I will walk it!”
“Why can’t I just get a single straight answer…?” Lal
sighed as Juhani glared wildly up at her, snarling and drooling like the beast
she claimed to be, straining to wrench herself free.
Free…? Freedom…hunger…Lal
tried then to remember the spirit’s words. Slowly, she started piecing together
a thought. “It’s…it’s feeding off of you…feeding off of your anger…your
rage…your pain…your fear. It’s using you to try and…to try and escape…maybe?”
Another thought formed, freezing inside her skull like a dagger of ice. “And
it’s using me, too…lured me here…It wants us to fight! Survival of the
fittest…whoever survives…it wants to have a body to move around in!”
“So long have I been imprisoned,” the Shadow hissed. Lal
and Juhani both jerked around to see it, hovering behind them. “Your passion…growing
stronger, it feeds me…my memories…”
Lal rolled forward off of Juhani and rose to her feet.
She twisted her lightsaber apart into two weapons, instinctively reversing the
grip of the left blade. The shadow appeared to have gained more of a static
shape. No longer did it billow and flutter like a set of rags. Now, Lal could
just barely make out a shape, tall and impossibly lean, with arms like spears.
Its head stretched up and tapered into a vague cone, and Lal saw fingers like
curved blades flexing anxiously.
“I must feed upon you, your anger…the darkness in both
bodies…I will have my freedom!”
Juhani’s rage sobered as she slowly rose. Her eyes gazed
upon the thing in unreasoning terror. “What is it? Why do you torment me,
creature? Tell me!”
“Juhani!” Lal cried out, “it wants your anger…It wants
to…to make you a slave…once more!”
“No!” Juhani hissed. “I am free! I will be no one’s
slave! I’ll destroy you, first!”
“Juhani! No! It…there…there…is…no emotion…”
Juhani paused and glanced back at Lal. Confusion shoved
the rage on her face aside, and her lips began moving soundlessly.
Lal had no idea where the words had come from. But they
continued to slip free of her throat. “There is no emotion!”
“Th-there is peace,” Juhani added. She lowered her
lightsaber, and a sheet of calm rippled across her features.
“There…is no ignorance,” Lal went on.
“There is…knowledge,” Juhani followed.
“There is no passion…”
“There is serenity,” Juhani said, her voice growing
softer.
“There is no chaos…”
“There is…there is harmony.” Juhani’s eyes slid shut.
“There is no death…”
“There is…the Force.” Juhani’s eyes snapped open, her
madness gone. She glanced at Lal with the same wide yellow eyes of that child
she’d been on Taris. Lal walked over to stand beside the younger woman and
nodded.
“You have no power over us, ghost,” Lal said to the
Shadow. “Within ourselves,” Lal went on, speaking the words with an alien,
unfamiliar confidence, “we are luminous beings. We are Jedi.”
“Jedi…” the
Shadow fell away from them, bleeding slowly away into the surrounding darkness.
It drained into the black air, drifting into nothingness. “Freedom,” was the
last word it hissed before its voice became nothing more than breeze.
Lal and Juhani stood there several minutes more, staring
into the cool night air for any remaining trace of the Shadow. But it had gone.
Juhani suddenly fell to her knees, crying. She pressed her hands to her face
and sobbed.
“My dear Master…my friend…she’s gone…and I did this to
her…”
Lal knelt beside Juhani and slid her arm around her
shoulders. She hugged the young Cathar to her and felt Juhani’s body shudder
with tears.
“I can never make up for this crime!” Juhani gasped.
“Look what I’ve become!”
“Shhh. Whatever happened her, Juhani…it’s over now, I
think…”
“Who are you, Master Jedi? Why did you come here? To save
me?”
“I’m no master…I…I don’t know what I am, to be honest.
But I do know this, Juhani: people can change. Mistakes…do not define you…It’s
the choices we make. Come. Let’s get you up. We still have to get out of here.”
Lal helped Juhani to her feet and glanced around at the
trees huddling wearily over them. Lal gasped sharply when she saw only a
handful of trees clustered around them. She could see the grasslands beyond,
bathed in moonlight, she could see the distant white walls of canyons. The
Grove they stood in couldn’t have been more than a few meters square; just a
modest stand of old worn out trees.
“I don’t believe it,” Lal murmured, stepping out of the
Grove. She turned and looked back at it. “It…it was like…an entire forest…”
Juhani merely trembled in the cold wind, trying to cover
her nakedness. Lal wished she had a blanket or a cloak for the young Cathar,
and could only hug her tightly to share body heat. Neither of them could
explain the mystery of the Grove, and perhaps it wasn’t productive to even
dwell on it. Juhani’s feral madness seemed to have completely disappeared as
soon as the Shadow realized they would no longer be its pawns, and Lal didn’t
want to tempt fate by dwelling on the matter.
But she knew what she had seen, and what she had felt…an
entire forest now reduced to a mere scrap of trees. The power of that spirit
had been indeed great to alter Lal's perceptions so fully. If that was indeed
what had happened. Maybe it had actually changed reality for a brief moment in
time. An odd thought flickered inside her mind; what if they
had been inside the Shadow, literally inside it, the entire time? What if that
drama had simply played out in the arena of their minds? A consensual
hallucination…
Whatever the truth was, Lal was certain of what she had
experienced, what she had encountered…her first brush up against the power of
the Dark Side…
They arrived back at the Jedi Enclave the next afternoon.
Bastila waited for them in the vast vehicle bay as Carth parked their rented
Sorosuub. Lal caught sight of her sister as she and
Canderous hopped down off the top of the speeder and
propped his heavy rifle on his shoulder. He threw a pointed glance at Bastila
and then held Lal's gaze for a moment before he left the hangar. Though he said
nothing, his message was clear enough to Lal. He didn’t trust Bastila, or any
of the Jedi, and he expected Lal to be mindful of his warning.
Zaalbar stepped out of the speeder next, ducking low to
pass through the hatch. With a howl, he hefted a sack containing AyVee’s
components. He’d had some success in repairing some of AyVee’s parts, but
didn’t have the tools on hand to reassemble the droid. If he couldn’t find what
he needed on the Hawk, Lal was thinking about
taking the droid to Crattis, to see what he could do. In a rumbling growl,
Zaalbar grudgingly promised Lal he’d do his best. Lal smiled at the Wookiee and
reached into the sack to give AyVee’s head a pat. He was such a useful little
thing, and she was already missing him. But still, he seemed to annoy the hell
out of Zaalbar, and she couldn’t quite figure out why Zaalbar was so willing to
fix the droid. Zaalbar looked from Lal to Bastila and back again, and then
chucked
“Huh?”
Carth rolled his eyes at the
“I’m glad to see you’re unharmed, Lal,” Bastila said, her
voice cool and placid. She spoke with the same stilted distance she’d had in
her voice when they first met back on Taris. For a tiny moment, Lal almost
forgot this was her sister standing before her. Lal cocked her head at Bastila,
but the young Jedi ignored the question in her sister’s eyes.
Lal decided not to press it. She had other matters on her
mind. “Juhani probably needs looking at by a doctor,” she told Bastila.
Bastila frowned up at the lean Cathar and nodded after a
moment. “The Jedi will deal with her,” Bastila said. “But they wish to speak
with you, Lal.”
“Something told me they wouldn’t give me a chance to
shower,” Lal sighed. “No matter. For once, I want to speak with them as well.”
“I’m going with you two,” Carth announced, arching an
eyebrow at Bastila. “It’s about time I got some answers around here.”
“I’m afraid not, Carth,” Bastila said. “This is a Jedi
matter.”
“Sure. Right. Listen, Bastila, I’ve been involved in one
too many Jedi matters for you to just give me the
brush-off. Either you take me to see the Council, or I’m heading back to
Coruscant.”
“Carth,” Lal said, turning to lay her hand on his chest.
She stared up into his eyes as she spoke. “Please be patient? As a favor to me?
Just a little while longer?”
Carth scowled and glanced away from her. He balled his
fists on his hips but gave her a curt nod. Lal stretched up to place a swift
kiss on his mouth. She smiled and patted his unshaven cheek.
“Alright, Basi. Let’s go and have a chat with the
Council.”
*
“Chairs,” Lal said absently as she and Bastila stood
before the Council. She glanced around the broad circular chamber and nodded
once. “That’s what this room needs. Chairs.”
“I have often thought the same,”
“Indeed,”
Vrook said nothing; he simply folded his arms across his
chest and looked down at Lal with his customary glare. Dorak sat in an
adjoining chamber, bent over a library computer station.
“Lal, you have succeeded in returning Juhani,” Zhar said,
“whom we had thought lost. We have sensed a shift in the Force, like a great
pall lifting. I trust you were successful.”
“I don’t really know,” Lal shrugged. “And I’m not really
here to chit-chat, I’m afraid. I have some questions, and I was promised
answers.”
“Again,” Vrook hissed, “you take it upon yourself to make
demands of this body…”
“Well, given the demands you’ve made on my body,” Lal chuckled, “I think it’s quite reasonable. For
some time now, I’ve had the sense that none of you are telling me the entire
truth. Every time I’ve been brought before you, you’ve revealed some new little
tidbit, as if you’re afraid I won’t be able to take it in a single dose. If
we’re going to be working together, then it’s time you told me all that you
know about me.”
Zhar glanced down at Vandar, and then over at Vrook.
“What would you like to know?” Zhar asked. As he spoke,
“Why am I dreaming of Revan and Malak? Why am I seeing
their…their memories?”
“Awakening your own memories are,” Vandar said. “And
expanding your senses are, as well. Hmm.”
“No,” Lal shook her head. “No. I was having odd dreams
like this before any of this happened…”
“It’s not exactly uncommon for a Jedi to see companions
and associates in their dreams,” Vrook replied.
“Hmm,” Vandar nodded. “Uncommon it is not. Lead you on
the crusade against the Mandalorians Revan did. And foremost in your thoughts
are they both. But…correct you are, Lal. A reason there is for your dreams.
Recently, discovered we did ancient ruins on the surface of Dantooine. There
did Revan and Malak discover…something.”
“‘Something’?” Lal repeated.
“Kept it a secret they did,” Vandar went on. “Even now,
know we do not what they found.”
“
“Lal,” Dorak began to explain, “long ago, there was a
race of beings that lived on Dantooine. We’ve been discovering their artifacts
and burial chambers for years. Archeological studies and deep resonance imaging
have shown there to be ancient structures below ground. Complex structures, I
might add…requiring sophisticated engineering skills the natives simply didn’t
have. It’s truly a fascinating little mystery…”
“What
Lal suddenly found herself thinking about the Shadow.
Malak had spoken in her dream of a dark presence…perhaps the two of them had
inadvertently released something…
Vandar stared curiously up at her. “Hmm. Had a thought,
you did, hmm?”
I…” she frowned down at the diminutive Jedi master.
“Well…the…the thing responsible for the kath
hound attacks…It was some sort of dark…ghost…It spoke of freedom…like it had
been released. It had turned Juhani into a feral beast almost.”
“Hmm,” Vandar nodded. “Emanation of the Dark Side was
this being. A ghost it was not.”
“Lal, when beings strong in the Force perish,” Zhar told
her, “they sometimes leave a…a trace of themselves behind. An energy pattern
trapped in the Force. A shadow, if you will. Driven by a long dead will, by
memory…with an ability to direct the energies of the Force on a rudimentary
level. For one strong in the Dark Side…cruel ambitions and desires become
almost like…spiritual programming. These things can
be dangerous to the living. Especially to a Jedi who has fallen to the Dark
Side. The passions and madness of the Dark Side are like meat and drink to
these Shadows. Juhani was particularly vulnerable in all likelihood. And
because of the things you did on Taris as an assassin, Lal…you were vulnerable
as well.”
“Is that why you sent me after it? To see if I would
fail?”
“No, Lal,” Zhar sighed. “All Jedi must learn to resist
the lure of the Dark Side. Without quite knowing or understanding it, you have
been exposed to the Dark Side for the past three years. It was determined that
if you could resist the pull of the Dark Side…then…”
“Then possess the necessary discipline you would, Lal,”
Vandar said, finishing Zhar’s thought.
“Necessary discipline?” Lal asked incredulously. “For
what? To bloody challenge Malak to some sort of…duel? Is that what this is all
building up to? While I can certainly appreciate the concept of cutting off the
serpent’s head,
Vandar frowned and glanced over his shoulder up at Dorak.
“Hmm. What does it mean, ‘wetwork’?”
“Ah. Curious etymology of the word,” Dorak brightened,
holding up his finger. “Originally, obscure military jargon used to refer to
any sort of clandestine violence; it became mainstreamed due to popular fiction
and various lurid holonet crime dramas, such as--”
“Ah, assassination,” Vandar said quickly, before Dorak
could go off on a tangent. “Understand, do I. But wrong you are, Lal. Not in
the business of…wetwork are the Jedi.”
“No?” Lal asked. “But didn’t you send my little sister to
destroy Darth Revan?”
“Bastila…and others…were sent to stop Revan,” Vrook said
with a growl, “but killing was always a last resort. And besides, Bastila
didn’t kill Revan. Malak did.”
As Vrook spoke those last words, Lal felt a sharp tinge
of anger and sadness erupt from Bastila. Lal turned and saw her sister’s brow
creased sharply in thought. Or perhaps remembered pain. Bastila noticed Lal's
scrutiny and smiled tightly. The emotions she was broadcasting suddenly closed
down. Lal continued to stare at Bastila as silence gripped the Council chamber.
Basi clearly had a problem with Vrook’s accounting of events.
And that meant Lal did too.
But she wouldn’t press it just yet, she decided, folding
her arms across her breasts. “Alright. Assassination is out. What’s left?”
“Perhaps, pose to you, the question we should…?” Vandar
suggested, a sly twinkle in his bright green eyes. “To defeat a seemingly
unstoppable enemy, what would you do?”
“In theory? Well, that’s simple. Find out what it is that
makes him so unstoppable, and then remove that advantage. Or make it into a
disadvantage. But theory is always simple, isn’t it? It’s the doing which is hard.”
“
“So, you don’t want me to kill Malak for you. What do you
want, then?”
“To investigate these ruins, we want,” Vandar told her.
“And do this, we feel you must. You
and your sister. Revealed to you a destiny the Force has. The visions have you
had. And Bastila. Tied are you together, very strongly. Go to the ruins, you
must, and learn whatever it is that Revan and Malak did.”
“Lal,” Bastila said, “I’m almost certain that Revan and
Malak found something in those ruins we dreamed…something which gave them the
advantage in this conflict. I’m also certain that the experience will help jog
your own memories…”
“An irresponsible claim to make, young Padawan,” Vrook
scolded Bastila.
“Which part?” Lal asked, lifting her chin defiantly. “The
part about the advantage, or the part about my memories?”
Vrook glanced at Lal and narrowed his eyes into chips of
granite. “There may literally be nothing we…or anyone…can do to restore your
memories, Lal. They will most likely…return given sufficient time. Or they may
never return. In any event, recovering your memories is not a priority here.
You’ve already…proven that you don’t need them
to succeed. Your body remembers what your mind doesn’t.”
“I see,” Lal murmured, dubious of Vrook’s words. “So,
what are you telling me, then? That I’m a Jedi again? Just like that?”
Vrook snorted. “Being a Jedi is a bit more than
back-flips and mind tricks. But you seem to have the skills necessary to
survive. To be fully honest, it’s likely you never lost those skills. The…lifestyle you were forced into on Taris is certainly an
unforgiving one. That you survived, and even excelled for three years is an
obvious testament to your ability to manipulate the energies of the Force.”
“Dangerous this is, Lal,” Vandar added. “But lucky have
you been. No concept did you have of your use of the Force. Accordingly, less
vulnerable to the Dark Side were you. Ironic, it is. Known what you were doing,
had you, a slave to the Dark Side you would have become. Contradicts our
teaching though it does, in this case, benefited you, ignorance has.”
“There is no ignorance,” Lal recited, recalling the words
that sprang to her lips with Juhani in the grove. “There is knowledge…”
“Hmm,” Vandar grunted with a nod. “Yes.”
“Is that what happened to Juhani?” Lal asked. “She
fell…knowingly to the Dark Side or some such?”
“Succumbed to a moment of anger did Juhani,” Vander
explained. “Blinded her to her lessons it did. To reality. Unfortunate
occurrence it is.”
“Juhani’s people are a race of warriors, Lal,” Zhar said.
“They are still a fairly…primitive people, and they are known for their
savagery in combat. Some of them can enter a sort of ecstasy
in combat, a berserk rage, if you will. Much like their ancient warrior
ancestors. This has happened before with Cathar Jedi. But Juhani is strong. Her
people also have meditative traditions designed long ago to wrest them from
their battle rages. May I ask why you are so concerned with Juhani?”
Lal was concerned mainly because she felt she knew what
Juhani was going through. Passing through a confused storm of darkness,
buffeted by dangers and temptations beyond her control. But the Jedi Masters
certainly didn’t need to know this. Instead, Lal simply said, “I helped her
escape from that Shadow’s clutches. Of course I would be concerned with her
condition. And what will happen to her.”
Vandar nodded sagely and shared a smile with Zhar. He
also threw a pointed stare in Vrook’s direction. “Compassion. A virtue it is.
And essential to a Jedi.”
“Indeed,” Vrook shrugged. “It’s also what drove Revan to
fight the Mandalorians. We must never forget that, Masters. No one here needs
to be reminded that Lal followed along that path.”
“The past is the past,
Vrook inclined his head. “I bow to the wisdom of my
esteemed colleague. Of course.”
“So,” Lal frowned, “That’s why you’re all so
close-lipped. You’re afraid that if I regain my memories, that I’ll simply
revert to my old ways. Either that, or I’ll simply return to my behavior while
on Taris and become…seduced by the Dark Side…”
“Lal,” Vandar began, “succumb to the Dark Side do even
the most experienced and dedicated of Jedi. Always a danger it is. But, the
lesson you learned with Juhani; always the possibility of redemption there is.
If pursued by the fallen it is. A truth that is, which also must not be…must never be forgotten.”
“I…” Lal fumbled for words in the face of what Vandar had
just said. She hadn’t expected that from the Jedi. She had suspected that they
were using her because she was an expendable asset. And maybe there was some
truth in that. But if
The implications pounded into her heart and lodged there.
She couldn’t explain it, but his words had lifted a weight of burdensome
mistrust from her thoughts. They were using her, but perhaps they were also
laying within her their hopes and wishes. Perhaps, hope
that she would…would return to them.
Lal turned away from such thoughts. They distracted her.
They were too intangible. The galaxy had taught her to rely upon more solid
truths than the idealistic possibilities in the heart of man. But still, it was
a comforting thought…
“Tell me about a woman named Sideen,” she said abruptly,
surprising them all.
“
Lal frowned in thought. She could not remember having
actively taken any sort of name…that was simply the name Davik had told her was her own. “Yes. I dreamed of Sideen. On Taris.”
“Yes,” Zhar nodded, lowering his eyes. “She was a good
friend. Both of you were stationed on Taris before the onset of the Mandalorian
conflict.”
“Was I her…Padawan…or
something along those lines?”
“No, Lal,” Zhar shook his head. “You were not a Padawan
at that point in time. You were a Knight. A very powerful one. No, you and
Lal remembered back to their discussion on the Hawk,
traveling to Dantooine. “When they turned, they hunted the others down. To keep
them from being a threat.”
Zhar nodded. “Many of the Jedi returned to the order.
They sought redemption, and most received it. Because of their loyalty to the
Jedi order, these Knights now posed a threat to Revan and Malak, and their dark
plans. Of course, others remained loyal to Revan. Like Bandon. When you were
returned to us…you were in…a highly non-responsive state. We have no idea what
horrors you experienced to shut you off so completely from the world, but you
were…you seemed completely gone. Sideen took it upon herself to take care of
you. She was alone when Bandon came for her. He had assistance, of course. Dark
Jedi now devoted to the ways of the Sith, as he and his masters were. She…she
did not survive. And you were left vulnerable.”
“Wh-what happened?”
“Well,” Zhar continued, “in a tragically bizarre turn of
events,
Lal's shoulders fell as his words chewed into her. Davik
still could reach out to grasp her in his claws, even from beyond the grave.
With every new thing she learned, his grip squeezed. She could almost hear him
laughing in her head.
“Obviously,” Vrook said, “
Lal nodded automatically. “He had ample opportunity to
know both of us from our time on Taris…” That was, of course, logical. It had
to be the truth. It fit with all the facts she had been told up until now, but…
It’s too convenient,
a voice whispered in her head. And as she thought about this, she realized that
Vrook’s words had filled her head with smoke, like wisps of cotton pushing
against her thoughts; clinging to them. Mind tricks,
she realized suddenly. But as soon as she recognized it, she killed the
thought, stuffed it deep down inside of her so they couldn’t sense it.
Vrook had just lied to her. And to drive that lie home,
he had wrapped it around a Jedi trick. Why would he do that? Why
would he try to convince me of something that they had already admitted to be
speculation? Lal looked up and saw Vandar glaring angrily at Vrook.
Vrook ignored the small Jedi Master and just stared impassively at Lal with his
arms folded upon his chest.
“I suppose that must be it,” Lal finally said, shrouding
her suspicion. “You know, Masters, it
seems every time I speak with you, I’m forced to go on some dangerous task
immediately afterwards…A girl might start to think she’s not loved…”
Vrook frowned in confusion and glanced away with a shrug.
Vandar actually chuckled. “Lal, return to your quarters you will. To rest. In
the morning should you begin.”
“I’d rather go to my house,” Lal said, adding a sweet
smile.
“Hmm. Of course.”
Lal gave a tiny nod of her head and spun on her heel to
leave. Bastila fell in beside her and they headed towards the corridor that led
to the upper level of the Enclave.
“Lal,” Zhar called, “a word, please, before you leave.”
He tugged his heavy brown robe closed and drifted over to join her.
“I’ll go and rent a speeder,” Bastila said and walked on
ahead.
Zhar smiled at Lal and glanced over his shoulder at the
other Council members. Lal followed his gaze and saw Vrook staring intently at
both of them, while Dorak and Vandar engaged in a whispered conversation.
“Do they just stay like that?” Lal asked as she and Zhar
began walking.
“Like what?”
“Well, every time I’ve seen the Council you’re all
standing about looking dreadfully serene. I certainly don’t think I could be on
the Council…not without some bloody comfortable chairs…”
Zhar chuckled. “Comfortable chairs are a rarity in the
Enclave. Truth be told, neither Vandar nor Vrook would hear anything of it.
“Indeed,” Lal agreed. “I can well imagine…”
Slowly, the two of them walked through the corridors of
the Enclave, and Lal felt the warmth of a distant old familiarity, slipping
over her like a cloak. Zhar’s presence at her side…comforting, always close…She
turned suddenly to him, a frown struggling upon her face. “Were we…we were
close…?”
Zhar’s smooth green face brightened in a smile. The lekku
draped about his shoulders twitched in a
Lal stopped beside him as they entered the broad,
circular courtyard of the Enclave. The sun streamed down into the chamber,
splashing them both with hazy, soft light. “I grew up with you, didn’t I?” Lal
asked him in a tiny voice.
“Do you remember?” he asked, cocking his head to the
side.
She searched her mind for the memories, to recall
something other than the brassy towers and trackless shadows of Taris. After a
moment, she shook her head. “I don’t remember…But…but I can
feel it…I…I remember the feelings…”
He nodded with a smile. “Yes. As you did when our eyes
met when you arrived here a few days ago.”
He reached out to lay a hand on her shoulder, and she
recalled the familiarity of that as well. She glanced down at his hand,
mistrusting the contact for only the briefest of moments. A dark part of her, still
mired in the sprawl of Taris’s sins, wondered what other contacts he had
enjoyed. But the feelings stirred by his words spoke only of the innocence
of…of friendship. Never had he taken advantage of her as Davik had. Never had
he seen her as an object, a tool to be used. Her eyes threatened to flood with
wet heat as she stared at him, and she realized her thoughts were wide open to
him.
“Yes,” he nodded, responding to her opened mind, “
“I…he…when I…” she struggled to find the words; her lips
stumbled over them. She finally released a great sigh and blinked away her
tears before they could fall. “I am not exactly accustomed to trusting anyone.”
He smiled sadly at her and cupped her cheek. “I suppose
not. This is all very new for you. If I tell you that you were my most
promising and dear student, it is second nature for you to then mistrust my
motives, isn’t it?”
“I’m sorry, Master Zhar…”
“Do not be. It cannot be avoided, I suppose. But do know,
Lal, that while I taught you much of what you know, you also taught me the one
thing I never learned. Patience. Patience is one of the greatest gifts a Jedi
possesses. The ability to find a moment of stillness within the whirlwind of
battle…to think with the Still Mind, to discern the proper path. This is the
wisdom you gave me. Do you understand?”
“I…I don’t…”
He sighed and nodded, lowering his hand. “You are
understandably eager, right now. Anxious…in your impatience to learn the truth
of your past. There is great conflict within you. Find the moments of calm
within the whirlwind, Lal. Find the Still Mind. And when you do, nothing will
be hidden from you. I believe already, the Still Mind has served you. With
Juhani. It will be one of your greatest tools.”
“
He shook his head gently and lifted a finger. “Do not
worry on it too much now. Go and prepare yourself and your friends. They will
become powerful allies in this thing before you. Before us all. We will speak
again, Lal.”
Inexplicably calmed by his words and his soft voice, even
in the thrashing heat of her own confusion and distrust, she simply nodded. A
smile worked its way onto her lips. With her eyes, she said her goodbyes to
him, and turned to go.
Lal's boots clicked in swift staccato on the gleaming
steel of the ramp that lead into the belly of the Ebon Hawk.
Turning into the central rec chamber, she saw Zaalbar huddled over a coiled
heap of milky white cyberoptic cabling, with a fuser clutched in a huge furry
paw, throwing up tiny gouts of sparks as he reattached the stripped leads
within the cable. Beside him,
Lal stopped and drank them in…their scents…their silhouettes in the eddying flows of the Force. Like a hand
gently pressing against a sheet of silk, she could feel them, feel the weight
of them in the air. Her heart pounded faster as she realized this; a flush of
excitement, heating the skin on her cheeks, quickening her pulse. Had she felt
this before? Had she always been able to feel them this way? Had she always
relied instinctively on this sense, never
knowing that it was unique to her? Unique to a Jedi Knight? It felt odd; as if
she had just been told that she was the only person in the universe with a
sense of smell…
She felt herself smiling at them…for no reason. She moved
behind
“Lal,”
Lal sighed in reply, rousing from her brief reverie of
sensation. She chuckled and playfully swatted mission across the back of her
skull. “Not as badly as you, smelly-girl. You probably didn’t notice because of
this great smelly old Carpet sitting beside you, though.”
Zaalbar growled out a comment about Wookiees smelling
exactly like they were supposed to smell. Then he suggested that they both roll
around in some katarn dung to improve their own native scents.
“I don’t quite know about that,” Lal replied, “but I am
dying for a shower. She glanced over at the Fresher adjoining the chamber and
frowned. “Not much in the way of privacy, though…”
Zaalbar snorted an offhand comment about Lal's modesty
and
Zaalbar grumbled something under his breath, which Lal
chose to ignore. She made her way to the Fresher but stopped when she noticed
*
After luxuriating under the gentle thrum of the sonic
shower, Lal put her Slipsuit back on and stepped out of the Fresher to head to
the starboard crew berth. She stepped in, thinking to close the door for a bit
of privacy to put her hair up, but she felt a familiar gust, like a warm breeze
drenched in sunlight. She smiled without turning and sat down on a bunk with
her legs crossed. Carth drifted in behind her, leaning on the top bunk as she
activated a holo-mirror display to put her hair up. She could see him watching
her in the mirror’s reflection. She could almost taste the errant thoughts
skipping along the surface of his mind.
“Can I help you
He chuckled and shook his head. “You…uh…your hair…looks
nice like that. Down, I mean…”
“It’s not exactly functional,” she told him as she separated
her long dark tresses into two thick streams, bundling them slowly into tight
buns at the back of her head. “Gets in the way.”
“Then why don’t you cut it?”
She stared at herself in the mirror, with her hair up and
sighed. “Haven’t really had much of an opportunity. I used to have it short. I
think. I…it feels too long sometimes…I’m always putting it up it seems. But I
never cut it…”
He sat down behind her and put his hand on her shoulder.
A tingle of excitement rushed through her at his touch and she laid her hand
over his. She glanced over her shoulder at him and resisted the urge to brush
back the unruly spikes that hung over his brow.
“You could use a shave,” she told him.
“I uh…haven’t had much of an opportunity…”
“I thought you Republic flyboys were all clean shaven and
spit-polished sorts.”
“Maybe at one point. I guess things change, hmm?”
She lowered her eyes and nodded. She glanced back into
the mirror for a moment, and then, pulled the buns free, letting her hair
tumble downwards. “I suppose they do.”
He leaned towards her, sweeping her hair from her
shoulders, back, away from her throat. Where his fingers brushed against her,
she tingled, even through the shiny fabric of her Slipsuit. She shifted on the
bunk, turning her body into his, leaning towards him, wanting to feel his lips
against hers…
But a wall crashed down over his thoughts, and he eased
back from her, taking his hand away. A frown briefly shaded her face, and she
wondered why he had pulled away. He hadn’t resisted her kisses before.
“What is it, Carth?” she asked him softly, taking his
hand in both of hers.
“I…”
“You’re not still angry with me, are you? I thought we
had gotten past that.”
“No, Lal,” he whispered. “I’m not angry…I’m just…it’s
just that…”
“You want to know what’s going on,” she finished for him.
“Well, yes. That would be nice…”
“But there’s something else…you’re worried about
something…”
“Damn, what did you do, go from exotic assassin to Jedi
psychologist?”
“Job qualifications are exactly the same.
“Bastila won’t tell me what I need to know. Either she
doesn’t know, or simply refuses to tell me. The Council is like a wall. And my
last orders were pretty much vague as hell. There’s a war going on, and I’d
like to know when I’m gonna be able to fight it.”
“Oh Carth…” she fell silent, wondering what was safe to
share with him. Perhaps the Council didn’t want her running her mouth, but then
again, they hadn’t exactly been forthcoming. Looking at Carth's eyes, she knew
what is was like to be left alone in the dark. “I…I’ve been having these odd
dreams. Dreams about the Jedi…about Revan and Malak.”
“Dreams, huh? Like…visions or something?”
Her cheeks reddened and she nodded. “Probably sounds
silly to you…”
“Nothing you could say would ever sound silly to me,
Lal.”
She glanced up at him hopefully, searching his face. Then
he smiled and added, “Well, if you said you were gonna paint your nose red…that
would probably sound pretty silly…”
She grinned despite herself and chucked her fist against
his shoulder. “If you’re going to tease, I simply won’t say anything, Captain Onasi.”
“Of course,” he nodded, snapping off a mock salute.
“Sorry, ma’am.”
“Mmm-hmm. Just don’t do it again. I still have contacts
you know.”
“So I’ve heard. So, visions. Alright. I know the Jedi are
pretty big on visions, but I don’t really know too much beyond that.”
She folded one leg beneath her and went on, “I don’t
think I know much more than you except to say that I’ve had one…er…well, more
than one…but it’s the one I had about Revan and Malak that has the Council
interested.”
“Does this have anything to do with that Cathar girl you
brought back?”
“Juhani…no. Well…yes. No…not her…rather the…being that I encountered in the Grove. Perhaps indirectly.
You see,
“Okay,” he said, “hold on a sec. What exactly does that
mean?”
“Oh…I’m not really sure! From what I understand of it,
the Force is a…an energy field that surrounds everything…maybe like…imagine
yourself floating in a pool of water…if someone else jumps in, the water
ripples, and you feel it…”
He nodded. “And the bigger the things that falls into the
pool, the stronger the disturbance…ripples spreading further? Damn, Lal, why is
it that you are the only person who has ever explained the Force in a way that
makes sense?”
“I don’t know…I…it just seemed like the best way to
describe it…”
Carth stared at her for a moment. “That was something you
remembered, wasn’t it? From before.”
“I guess it must have been…” She brushed a curl of hair
from her brow, tucking it behind her ear and shook her head. “Sorry…well, in my
dream…vision…whatever it was, I saw Revan and Malak in this, this…place. They had found something. I couldn’t see it, but it
felt like it was…well, terribly important. Maybe dangerous. I think they set
that Shadow thing free.”
“Intentionally?”
“No…I don’t get the sense that they knew about it…they
were trying to hide from the Jedi…it was before they fell to the Dark Side.
Malak was…he was so…young…handsome.”
“Handsome?”
Carth grunted. “The guy wears a mask. He can’t be that good-looking…what about
Revan? Was he handsome too?”
“He was…I don’t know…I couldn’t see him very well I don’t
think…”
“Figures,” Carth snorted sourly, “piece of filth was
probably wearing a mask back then too.”
“Carth…that’s not…that…I mean…they had broken from the
Council in my dream, but even so, they were still trying to…to protect the
Council from whatever was in that place…”
“I get it,” Carth nodded dubiously, “you’re trying to
tell me they were still good guys back then. “As if that matters, Lal. Those
two destroyed my world. Killed my wife and son. I know they were once good…that just makes what they did all the worse.”
“Carth, I know. I wasn’t trying to justify--”
“It’s not a new story,” he went on venomously, his eyes
glinting coldly, staring beyond her. “Ever since men found a way to gain power
over other men, there have been guys like Revan…like Malak. Power can be a
poison, and it spreads its effects to everyone it touches, turning good men to
bad, making it easier and easier for them to make choices that are atrocities…”
Lal fell silent and watched him rant. She was afraid to
speak; afraid to further ignite his rage. But as he railed on about Revan and
Malak, she felt the wall surrounding his thoughts collapse. Slashes of memory
and slices of agony tore through her suddenly, tearing a gasp from her throat.
Her mind could form no words to describe the shearing onslaught of images and
thoughts and fears and hatred that blazed from him. She had never experienced
anything like this surge of emotion pouring form him into her.
Her head spun and her body threatened to collapse. And a
distant anger rose within her; anger at her own weakness in the face of this
new challenge to her will. Anger at falling to it…
Her fists shriveled into hard little balls and her
muscles tensed into cords of steel wire. She opened eyes burning with heat and
screamed. “Carth!”
He fell silent and focused on her, as if seeing her face
for the first time. Then he saw the trembling in her taut body, shivers along
her arms, in her cheeks; the clenching of her teeth. “Lal…what is it…?”
“Y-you…y-your r-rage…” she hissed tightly, closing her
eyes and fighting to control her sudden madness. “I’m not the one who did these
things, damn you! Don’t you…don’t ever…you…”
“Lal…” he reached out to grip her shoulders, but she
struggled away from his hands. He fought through her resisting arms to take
hold of her. He pulled her close, embracing her, and her struggles instantly
died. “I’m sorry, Lal. You’re right. Of course you’re right. I didn’t mean to
upset you…You didn’t deserve that outburst…I’m sorry.”
In his tight embrace, she pressed her head against his
shoulder and nodded slowly. Her anger fled her as swiftly as it had seized her,
and her arms gingerly slipped around his waist. She felt the slow rhythm of his
breathing, mingling with the thrum of his heart beat. She felt her own pulse
mirroring his, entangling together into one distant thunder.
He opened his mouth to speak, but his voice faltered. “I
told you…about the Sith destroying my world…”
She nodded against his shoulder again.
“That’s not the whole…story. Telos saw some hard times.
During the war with the Mandies…But we were fighters. Any man whose home is
threatened will fight in his own way. I was always a pilot, you know. When I
was a kid, I flew my dad’s little twin engine Seeder, recharging the soil beds
on the banks, whenever the rivers would get too low in the dry season. That’s
how a lot of people made money when the droughts came. We lost our own plots
some years earlier…wide scale blow-outs; hard winds come crashing over the
mountains and literally blow away the topsoil…some folks started building
artificial farms in terraces on the sides of cliffs. Used to be a time when the
soil on the river banks was rich enough to be shipped to those terrace farms.
But that only lead to other problems. Floodplains weren’t really broad enough
for that sort of thing. And when we got hit by the droughts, well, do the math.
“So, anyways, we’d developed ways to recharge the soil by
overhead seeding. It was good money. Stake a plot of river-land, sell the soil
when it was recharged. But it was also tricky work. You had to be a good pilot,
flying those valleys. I got to be one of the best. So when the Mandies came in
their basilisks and fighters, some of us got in our Seeders and took ‘em on. We
couldn’t take ‘em one on one unless we lured them down into those steep valleys
and chasms.
“When the Republic came to help us, their resources were
stretched pretty thin. They couldn’t spare their fighter squadrons and battle
groups for one planet on the Rim. But they did send the Black Sabers.”
“Who?”
“Black Sabers. A loose affiliation of rogues and
smugglers who were on the republic’s payroll from…well, from way back. They had
a reputation for being able to handle the bush-wars that were too…ah…dirty for
the Republic’s forces…Tough bastards. They were led by a man named
“But things change, don’t they? I was loyal to Karath. He
taught me a lot. I would have died for him, Lal. But that all changed when I
learned…when I saw with my own eyes, Karath and
Revan and Malak…executing enemy soldiers. Not killing in battle…executing.
Putting defeated, disarmed soldiers to death. You know why they did it? Not to
demoralize the Mandies. They don’t see death the same way we do. It doesn’t
scare them a single bit. I’ve seen Mandalorian women…no older than
“But like I said, sometimes, they couldn’t. We took to
keeping them in shackles so we could interrogate them…hell, even just to keep
them from killing themselves. It was against Republic conventions to allow an
enemy combatant to come to harm while in captivity. If it could be avoided. But
Revan…he and Malak started putting them to death when they were out on the
front. Beyond supply lines…out in the cold where insanity is pretty much the
only law. They’d leave the bodies humiliated and violated for the Mandie forces
to find. It didn’t demoralize them; it pissed them off. Enraged them. It drove
them crazy. They started to throw strategy right out the door. Made foolish assault
simply for the sake of vengeance. Basically, their rage blinded them to
tactics. Made them stupid.”
Lal nodded silently. She knew how easy it was to defeat a
foe made foolish by rage.
“I confronted Karath about it. I couldn’t believe it at
first. But he admitted it, like…like there was nothing wrong with it. He told
me, ‘when you fight a monster, you must become a monster.’ Can you believe
that? I didn’t buy into it. A lot of soldiers did, I guess…do.
They think that pointing a gun at another living being in war gives them the
right to be monsters. To commit any atrocity against the enemy. To call war hell is like saying a Hutt is a little overweight. It’s
true, but it doesn’t come close to the reality. But it’s important for
civilized beings to remember that they are civilized. That they’re not
monsters, because after war, the business of peace takes precedence. But men
like Revan and Malak…and Karath, their entire lives are consumed by war. By a
need to make war. Without it, they lose their power. They lose the very thing
that makes them stronger than others.”
“I suppose that’s why the Jedi didn’t want to get
involved in the war?” Lal asked in a soft, tiny voice, hugging him tightly.
“No…I reckon not,” he said after a while. “But that’s not
why I hate
Lal pulled back from Carth to stare into his eyes. She
took his hand in hers, holding it on her lap. “What is it Carth? Why do you
feel so much hatred for this man?”
He sighed and lowered his eyes. “He destroyed my planet,
Lal. He destroyed my home. He was following orders from Revan and Malak, but he
stood on the bridge of the ship that slid into orbit…He ordered his officers to
target the cities and the villages. He ordered his gunners to hit the targets
again and again. He gave the order to target lifesigns and keep firing.
She wanted to tell him something comforting, something to
remove the pain. She wanted to tell him to let go of his anger. That he couldn’t
live his life for vengeance, that his wife wouldn’t have wanted that. She
wanted to say those things, but when the words formed on her tongue, they
wilted upon her lips. Just because she now wore a lightsaber, it didn’t qualify
her to preach morality, to speak about what was right and wrong. To give
advice.
Truth was, she would have dipped her hands in the man’s
blood without a thought to right and wrong. Taris had been the school in which
she had learned her lessons of morality. Anything she might say to Carth now
would feel cheap and shallow. She only knew one way to comfort a man after all.
Well, perhaps two ways…
“Carth, I…”
“So now you know,” he cut in with a hard whisper. “Now
you know all there is to know about me. Being a Republic soldier doesn’t give
me any moral high ground over you. All the times I tried to act like I was…like
I was better because I had something to fight for…it was all hypocrisy…”
He stood and moved away from the bunk, turning his back
to her. She understood now why he was so impatient to get back to the war. To his war. She understood his frustration, his drive. She
understood his anger.
Lal stood up and moved behind him, wrapping her arms
around his waist. She laid her head against his shoulder and squeezed him
tightly to her. “Carth,” she said in a gentle whisper, “do shut up. You’ve
already proved yourself a thousand times over. This…feeling
you have…wanting to punish this Karath…it doesn’t make you a hypocrite. It
doesn’t make you anything. And wanting to do it
doesn’t change who you are.” She turned him around to face her, and stared up
into his eyes. “Carth, I don’t know what to say about Karath. But I do know
that I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t stumbled into my life. And, given the
fact you had the good sense to save my life, you can’t be all that bad a man.”
She finished her words with a kiss and leaned into his
strong embrace, pressing against him. Their lips met in a desperate crush and
their breaths merged in a cloud of heat. Carth’s hands whispered across the
glossy surface of her Slipsuit, roaming along her body. She let his curiosity
wander and explore while she reveled in the caress of his lips against hers.
“I thought that Jedi didn’t uh…indulge themselves…like
this,” he murmured, gazing hungrily at her.
She smiled and stepped backwards, towards the bunk,
pulling him with her. “Funny thing about that, I can’t seem to remember…one way or the other…”
He kissed her again, and she tasted his desire for her
upon her tongue. They collapsed backwards onto the bunk and he pressed atop
her. She reached down to press the switch on her belt that would remove her
Slipsuit…
And the door hissed open.
“Lal, I…” Bastila stopped inside the doorway as she saw
the two of them. Her face turned bright red and her mouth hung open.
Lal glanced past Carth's shoulder at her sister and
groaned inwardly. Carth's gaze lingered on her a moment longer, and then he
pulled away, breathing heavily. He glanced at Bastila and then lowered his
eyes. Lal fell the wall rising back over his thoughts again…
Bastila regained her composure and closed her mouth. She
lifted her chin and arched an eyebrow to glare critically at Lal and Carth.
“Forgive me for intruding. I suppose I should leave you now to indulge your
base animalistic passions in privacy.”
Lal caught Bastila's eye and nodded desperately, but
immediately stopped when Carth glanced over at her. Carth squeezed her hand and
stood before her. “I’ll be going with you tomorrow, Lal.”
“Oh…really?” Lal squeaked. “Well, I--”
“I’m afraid you can’t, Carth,” Bastila said archly,
icicles dripping from her words. “This is Jedi business. I’m sure you
understand.”
“I do, Bastila,” he sighed. “I’m just making it my
business too. I’m sure you
understand.” He moved past her and turned back to nod once at Lal while Bastila
searched for a response. He smiled at both of the sisters and left.
Lal growled softly and rolled her eyes. “Wonderful. You
couldn’t have found a worse moment to walk in here if you’d tried, Basi.”
Bastila's eyes widened incredulously, and she sputtered
out a string of stammering disbelief. “Why I…you…of all the…how in…I…ohhh!”
Lal stood and placed her hands on her hips defiantly.
“Here it comes…”
“Lal! You…you’re a Jedi! We cannot…do that!”
“Do what?”
“That! What you
were doing with Carth! It’s forbidden!”
“You mean kissing?” Lal asked innocently.
“Kissing? You
call that kissing? The two of you looked like a double-humped Sirrilian
Octopod! All bloody arms and legs! A Jedi cannot engage in…relations…like…like
that!”
“Oh don’t be absurd, Basi. You’re overreacting.”
“Lal, love is an emotion that can lead to the Dark Side
as easily as hate! We do not form attachments because of that reason! It is
forbidden.”
“Oh, who said anything about love, Bastila? We were
merely kissing is all.”
“Your thoughts betray you, sister,” Bastila countered,
calming her voice. “I can sense your emotions for him. Not that anyone needs to
be a Jedi to notice!”
Lal narrowed her eyes and folded her arms across her breasts.
“I see. Surprising that the Jedi would forbid any of their order to love when
they obviously don’t forbid them from poking their bloody noses into everyone
else’s business, don’t you think?”
“I am not poking my nose into your business!” Bastila gasped.
“I am your sister--”
“My nosy sister! Well, I have a question for you, sister
dear. If the Jedi frown upon emotional attachments, then what do they think
about you and me?”
“I…” Bastila frowned and turned away, searching for a
response. “I’d rather not discuss this right now…”
“No? Well, you brought it up, Basi. The Council frowns on
us speaking to our parents? On kissing? But they don’t seem to have a problem
shoving two sisters together? Doesn’t that strike you as a bit odd?”
“I just came in to inform you that our transport was
ready.”
“That’s lovely. What about my question? I can tell you
have something on your mind, Basi. I can sense your feelings as easily as you
can mine. You’re hiding something. Tell me.”
“Lal, I have no time for this…”
“Because you’re simply so very busy, I suppose?” Lal
dashed to stand in the door, blocking Bastila from leaving. “Tell me.”
“Lal, I…”
“Tell me.”
Bastila sighed and threw her hands up in frustration.
“You’re always doing this, you know…or at least you were! Doing your best to
drive me insane!” Bastila whirled to face Lal and jabbed a finger at her. “You
wish to know the truth? The truth is…the truth is you never listened to the
Council. You were always rebellious and stubborn…in your own way…They thought
your stubbornness would make you unsuitable for advanced training, but somehow,
you managed to excel at it…The truth is, no matter how much they tried to
separate us, you always found a way to be with me…Breaking the rules.”
Lal felt her shoulders loosen and she stepped forward to
lay her hands on Bastila's shoulders. “Is that such a bad thing, then? We are
sisters…we should be close, Basi. It is the way of things that children be
allowed to see their parents, that sisters should be close and that bloody
grown people should be allowed to…have relations, as you put it. Just because
it may or may not lead to the Dark Side doesn’t mean it should be ignored.”
“You sound so very much like you used to, Lal.”
“Good. That means I’ve been making sense for a long time
then,” Lal smiled, gently patting Bastila's cheek.
“Lal, just because you believe it does not mean it is
right. The Sith fell to the darkness because they could not control their
passions. It is a great danger the Jedi face every day.”
“I cannot argue that, Basi. I don’t even care to, because
I don’t fully understand all of this. But I do know this: you cannot master a
thing by turning away from it. By ignoring it. There is no ignorance…”
“There is knowledge…”
“That’s right. One thing I learned on Taris was that you
have to know yourself before anything else. Back then, I thought it was just
knowing the limits of what you are capable of…of how far you’re willing to
go…But it also means you must know your heart before you can control it, don’t
you think? That’s why I’ve put up with all of this. To know who I am.”
“And what will you do, Lal? When you’ve learned all that
you’ve forgotten?”
“How can I answer that, Basi? Is predicting the future
another Jedi ability, then?”
“Actually…”
“Nevermind. I never make a plan beyond the things I can
see anyway.”
“Lal…if you could go back…back to Taris, back to being
what you were…would you?”
Lal frowned at the suddenness of Bastila's question. She
let her sister’s thoughts seep into her head and saw that it had been something
that had long weighed upon Bastila's mind. A fear, perhaps. An old fear…
Lal sat down on a bunk, tugging Bastila down beside her.
They sat together, their legs pressed against each other, shoulders touching.
And to Lal, it felt like interlocking pieces of a puzzle fit snugly into place.
It was an odd thing to have emotions with no memories to explain them.
“Bastila, you changed my life. It seems I was trapped on
Taris for so long…not so much being trapped on the planet as…well, being
trapped in that life. I did not ever imagine that my life would be anything
else. I don’t know if your world, your life can ever fit me, but at least…at
least my skies are no longer bound by kilometer-high towers and walls stained
with the ruin of society. To answer your question, Sister, I wouldn’t go back
to being
Bastila turned to her with a little girl’s wide,
uncertain eyes. Not the stiffness and veiled arrogance of a Jedi. Now, she was
just a little sister trying to listen to her big sister. For one moment, she was
nothing more than that. Bastila shook her head and waited for Lal to go on.
“I don’t know if I can explain it any better. Don’t know
if I understand the difference myself…I’ve always been in a maze, Bastila.
Endlessly turning corners, stumbling into dead-ends, retracing my steps.
Searching for an exit that never could be found. I’m still in a maze…the
Council has made sure of that. But even so, I feel like the exit is very close.
That for once in my life, every step I take brings me closer to getting out of
the maze.”
“You still do not trust the Council, do you?”
“Bastila, all of this…the lightsaber…the powers…I don’t
know if this is in my future. All I know from them and from you is that it is a
part of my past. Whether it will be my future…I can’t say. But I intend to find
out.”
“I…I wish I could make you understand how great a threat
“To me, Malak is nothing more than a man who abuses
power. They came cheap on Taris. I don’t know that fighting him is…well, I
don’t know. All I know is that this man is in my dreams, and there must be a
reason for it. Hopefully, tomorrow, I’ll find out that reason.”
*
“This the same Soro-Suub from yesterday?” Carth asked as
he circled around the massive speeder. He carried a cargo sack over his right
shoulder and swung it down to the ground with a heavy thunk. Bastila sighed at
his arrival and glanced down at the bag.
“Weapons, Carth?” she asked. “They will probably be of
very little use to you where we are going. If there are dangers, they will
likely be beyond the power of a simple blaster.”
“That’s why I brought grenades too,” he told her.
Bastila shook her head in disbelief and climbed inside
the speeder. Carth chuckled at her distress and glanced over to Lal. She stood
at the mouth of the Enclave’s vehicle bay, where the main door stood open to
the chill morning. Her long brown hair danced in the cold breeze and her eyes
glistened with the reflection of distant rays of sunlight peeking just above
the wide, flat horizon.
She wore a heavy gray field jacket over her Slipsuit. It
was so big that it hung down well past her hips. She huddled within the depths
of the jacket, hugging herself for warmth. She turned at his approach and
smiled. Carth stared at her for a minute, and nodded once before climbing into
the speeder behind Bastila.
Frowning at his distance, not understanding it, Lal moved
to join them inside, but she stiffened as another presence tugged at her
senses. Canderous emerged from the shadows and moved to stand before her. She
marveled at how silently the Mandalorian moved, even though he wore his full
suit of battered blue armor. He wore a massive, heavy barreled rifle slung over
his shoulder and carried a helmet in the crook of his arm. The helmet was
sleek, like the tip of some archaic but deadly projectile, and was adorned only
with an ominous and narrow slit that served as a visor. Something Mandalorian
Hunters wore.
“Someone forgot to mail my invitation, I believe,” Canderous
growled.
“This is my business, Canderous. Not yours.”
“Ah. And did you say the same to the soldier-boy?”
Lal cocked her head to the side and frowned. “Carth has
his reasons, I suppose…”
“And, I suppose, so do I.”
“So I gather. Mind telling me what they are, Canderous?”
“Mmm…I prefer to retain my mystery. If only in the hopes
of catching you naked again.”
“Always good to have a dream, I guess.”
Canderous glanced at the cockpit through the windshield
where he could see Carth and Bastila arguing about who would sit at the
controls. “Of course, there is always your little sister. She’s got quite a
good deal of…spunk. Maybe I’ll claim her and
see if she’s got the same little--”
“Canderous,” Lal warned, “I have this thing called a
lightsaber. It is exceedingly effective at slicing things off of other things.
Vital things.”
He chuckled and moved to tower over her. “Don’t worry.
I’ll be a gentleman. She wears too many clothes for my tastes anyway. So, can
we get on with this, or do you intend to compose a poem while staring off into
the trackless morn?”
“You don’t even know where we’re going or why.”
“Maybe I do and maybe I don’t. But, for now, I walk with
you.”
*
They ranged north in the speeder, which smelled
oppressively of stale Wookiee fur and scorched droid parts. Carth sat at the
controls and Lal sat beside him as she had the day before, watching the grasses
whip past in the newborn morning sunlight. They blazed past a farming community
squatting on the dew-slick plains in a series of flat, earthen structures that
reminded Lal of bunkers. There were a few ranches out this way, resting in
lonely huddled repose in broad, ancient floodplains. According to the map, at
any rate. Lal only saw one, and it looked abandoned, blackened as if from some
old fire. She glanced back at the place as they zoomed past, and wondered what
had happened to leave the place so dead and so still.
But after that, nothing stood on the grassy plains.
Occasionally, short, rounded canyons rose up to snake around their path and
unfold undulating arms of pale, worn stone. The sun stretched high into the
air, painting the sky in broad strokes of gold and red. Bastila had told Lal
that this world had always been home to her, her most favorite of places in all
the galaxy. Lal didn’t know if she felt the way Bastila had claimed, but that
rich velvety sky was almost worth bearing the unyielding flatness of the land.
The colors lairing within the lazy, swollen clouds filled her with warmth,
wrapping her around like a snug blanket.
But as day passed slowly into darkness, Lal felt a shiver
enter her spine. As the sun slipped beneath the horizon, the colors bled from
the sky and from the land, leaving only a pale gray shroud and pools of shadow.
Dantooine’s night left Lal with a chill that had nothing to do with the brisk
air. Perhaps it was the memory of Kath Hounds controlled by the Shadow; great
massive packs moving with one mind, suffused with a hideous intellect.
But there were no packs hunting her. There was nothing
alive in the night at all. Lal didn’t understand the tautness stringing her
muscles so tightly; didn’t understand the source of cold quiet dread that had
entered her skull.
As Carth hurled the speeder along, Lal's eyes caught tiny
little hints of things she had seen before…vague shapes of rocks that coalesced
into landmarks within half-formed memories. Patterns of canyons that made her
think she had seen them before…been there before. Was that truly possible? Had
she been here before? With Revan and Malak? Or was she just seeing what she had
dreamed; remembering more?
“Lal?”
Lal glanced over, realizing Carth had called her name.
“Hmm?”
“I was asking if there was anything on the map,” he told
her. “This looks like one great big slice of nothing.”
Lal glanced down at the map on the screen of her
wrist-comp and blinked a few times. She saw a ring of non-descript lumps
resting against the rear of a box canyon on the map, with a text-link
indicating that these structures were supposed to be the ruins they sought.
“Another kilometer or so,” she replied in a soft, tiny voice. “Around the next
bend…”
Carth sighed and leaned the Speeder into a broad curve
around a low canyon wall. As they crawled around the sweep of the pile of
weathered stone, Lal caught the first glimpse of it. A ring of black tines
jabbing up above the edge of the canyon. The closer they came, the more she
could see of the spines; a crown of dark stone monoliths shooting starkly up
from the ground at the far side of the canyon, each ebon stack towering like
some ancient guardian.
Bastila eased into the cockpit behind them and leaned
over the back of Lal's chair. Lal felt Bastila's warm presence as a comfort, a
blanket that she wanted to wrap around her snugly. Bastila's hand fell upon
Lal's shoulder, almost as if to provide comfort. Lal wondered if Basi was even
aware she had done that.
“Father would be so very fascinated to see this,” Bastila
murmured distantly, staring at the cluster of monoliths. Lal sighed and
struggled to subdue the anxiety boiling in her belly.
Bastila glanced down at her sister and pulled her hand
away. She cleared her throat and said, “Yes, I can sense it too, Lal…they do
look familiar.”
Carth glanced over at them with an arched eyebrow. “How’s
that?” he asked. “You two have been here before?”
“The dream I had, Carth,” Lal explained.
“Oh…right. Wait a minute,” Carth frowned, “Bastila, you
had the same dream?”
Bastila nodded at Carth and pursed her lips. “Of course,
Carth. We are sisters. We share a bond unlike anything you could possibly have
experienced.”
“Oh. Right. Of course. What was I thinking? I don’t know
which is more mysterious…Jedi, or women. Maybe Jedi who are
women…”
“Look,” Lal called out, pointing. “Is that a speeder
bike?”
Carth pulled their speeder up short, swinging the end
around and cutting the engine off. They ground to a halt ten meters from the
monoliths and the four of them climbed down out of their vehicle. Carth led the
way, keeping Lal and Bastila behind him. He slipped a pair of low-light glasses
on over his eyes and tapped the power switch. Canderous ranged out to their
left, his helmet covering his face completely. He moved with the prowling
tentative steps of a hunting saber cat, holding his massive blaster rifle up to
his shoulder.
“Aratech 340,” Carth noted, looking the speeder bike over
with a critical eye. “Maybe a C or D? They don’t make ‘em like this anymore.
Hell…look at that. Custom job.”
“
“There are no signs of a struggle,” Canderous noted.
“There are tracks that lead from the speeder…” He pointed the barrel of his
weapon into the midst of the monoliths and Lal's eyes followed.
She was just barely able to make out a depression in the
ground that led to a dark hump of a structure. Squinting, she could see it was
a building, fashioned from the same black stone, crouching, huddling in the
night, like a beast waiting to pounce on unwary prey.
“Reminds me of the penitentiary on
“Why am I not surprised by that?” Carth grunted.
Canderous turned to glare at him through the slit of his
visor. “Hunted a man who was locked away inside. He was running a Death Stick
trade with the collusion of the warden…”
“You mean to tell me you actually killed someone who
deserved it?” Carth chuckled incredulously.
“Well…the price was right,
after all.”
“We don’t have time for this,” Bastila sighed stepping
forward, towards the entrance. Lal followed close behind, her hand brushing the
hilt of her own lightsaber where it bounced against her hip.
“Hold on, you two,” Carth called out, moving ahead of
them. “There might be booby traps…”
“I sense no such threats,” Bastila said, glancing around.
“Obviously,
“Not so obvious,” Carth
pointed out. “What if there are no signs of struggle because he never made it
in? Just be careful is all I’m saying.”
Bastila opened her mouth to reply, but instead simply
nodded.
Carth turned and scowled at the door, a slab of smooth
black stone. There were no controls to speak of, not even a handle. “Canderous,
that helmet have scanning equipment in it?” Carth asked.
Canderous ran his gaze up and down the surface of the
door in silence. He gave a shake of his head and propped the rifle onto his
shoulder. “Not seeing anything. Of course, that doesn’t mean there are no
traps. If there are, I simply cannot detect them.” He leaned a bit closer to
Carth and chuckled, “Have you thought about knocking?”
“Be my guest,” Carth replied.
“You’re the polite one, ‘Public…”
“Heavens,” Lal sighed, reaching out and pushing on the
door. It slid inward with a whisper of stone sliding against stone and snapped
rapidly upwards. It revealed a tunnel that drank up the moonlight and spit
forth only darkness. A gust of air whispered forth across her cheeks, filling
her nose with the murky stink of wet stone and soil. The smell reminded her of
Undercity with its dank and huddled horrors, squirming from the light…
Cold blue light, wavering as footsteps clicked out a
steady patina that bounced echoes down a long corridor…
Beside her, Bastila gasped and staggered against the
doorway. Carth was quick to grip her arm before she could collapse. Lal turned
her head slowly, dreamily to look at her sister…Bastila's skin seemed very
white in the moonlight, and her voice seemed to reverberate from far away.
“I’m fine…I…momentarily…I am fine,” Bastila murmured,
shaking her head. She shrugged out of Carth's grasp and steadied herself
against the door frame. “Th-this place…strong in the Dark Side,”
“You think?” Canderous snorted, casting a wary glare at
the entrance and the black corridor. “I could have told you that, and I don’t
even believe in your vaunted dark side.”
Bastila snapped her head towards him and fixed him with a
stabbing glare. “A foolish conceit, Canderous Ordo. You don’t know the power of
the Dark Side! It is--”
“Bah,” he sighed, waving his gloved hand. “Good Jedi, bad
Jedi, all the same. Only difference is in what methods they are willing to use
to gain power. Not in how far they are willing to go to gain it. Even a good
man, with a fanatic’s commitment to his goals is…dangerous.”
Bastila frowned and mulled his words over for a moment.
“That may or may not be true, but--”
“There is no ‘but’, Jedi,” Canderous cut in casually.
“Wrapping mere temptation in the mysterious cloak of the dark side
is merely a clever rationalization…a means of instilling the fear of some
intangible devil into children and young Jedi too foolish to determine the
nature of good and evil on their own. Dogmatic nonsense.”
“Canderous,” Carth began with a chuckle, “I’m surprised.
That’s actually a complete thought that doesn’t end with ‘and then I killed
them all.’ You’re making progress.”
Before Canderous could fire off a reply, Bastila spoke in
a low growl, “It is not wise to underestimate the power of the Force,
Canderous. Not wise at all.”
“Spare me your veiled threats, Jedi. I have seen Jedi
powers in battle, and have killed more than a few of your kind myself. I do not
doubt your powers. Only your philosophy.”
And as they continued to argue, no one noticed the first
tentative steps that Lal took into the darkness, her eyes all but closed like a
sleepwalker’s. She left their heated voices behind and moved deeper into the
black corridor, where she could hear other voices…
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Revan,” Malak
whispered, his wide eyes darting all around. He held forth his lightsaber, and
adjusted the power setting to cast a beam of harmless blue light instead of a
shaft of deadly humming energy. But the beam of light only sliced through the
barest layers of shadow within the ruins.
“Oh, stop it, Malak,” Revan hissed back. “You always have
a bad feeling. This place is somehow shielded…masking Jedi senses.”
Malak shrugged his massive shoulders and rolled his eyes.
“Revan, maybe the fact that this place is shielded is…I don’t know…a warning of
sorts?”
Revan sighed in growing annoyance. “Go where your enemy
cannot go. Remember Master Vrook telling us that? Be where you cannot be and no
one will ever expect you.”
Malak nodded silently. “So, does that mean the Council is
our enemy now, Revan?”
Revan stopped and turned to glare at Malak. “Of course
not. It was…damn it, it was a metaphor and you know it. But they would try to
stop us. Unless…do you want to turn back?”
“I…I just don’t know…I mean about defying the Council…It
feels wrong.”
“It is wrong. But which is the greater wrong, Mal?
Defying the orders of a bunch of old men too far removed to feel the pain of
the average person? Or saving the average person when no one else will stand
and fight for them?”
“What did you say, Lal?” Carth asked, turning to face
her. But she was drifting down the corridor into thick, liquid shadow. He
dashed to catch up with her, and Canderous and Bastila followed. Yanking her
arm, Carth stopped Lal and spun her around. “Lal!”
She glanced up at him with blank eyes. “Th-they came
through here…talking. They were…n-nervous…”
“I suppose that puts the booby trap theory out,”
Canderous growled softly.
“Not necessarily,” Carth noted.
Bastila sighed at the two of them. “Would you please stop
worrying about booby traps? We would have sensed something…”
“I’d like for you to sense some light, to be honest,”
Carth replied, glancing around.
Lal reached for her lightsaber with stiff, mechanical
motions and adjusted the power setting as she had seen Malak do. Her saber cast
a beam of pale lavender light forth from the emitter assembly, sawing into the
darkness. A second door resolved from the blackness, standing before them. Like
the outer door, there was no keypad, no handle. Just featureless smooth stone.
“Any ideas for opening it, Revan?” Malak asked after
pushing on the door with all his considerable strength.
“Hmmm. I’ve got an idea…how about you take a running
start and hit it head-first?”
“Nice,” Malak chuckled. “But you’re the one with the
ideas. Your turn.”
“Indeed. And once again, brawn gives way to brains…”
Malak folded his arms across his heavy chest and shook
his head. “Be my guest, brain-trust.”
Revan sighed and stepped before the door, looking up and
down the surface. “Interesting…there had to be a way to get in…not necessarily
a means accessible to outsiders but…”
Lal held up her hand, with her palm facing the door. The
muscles in her shoulders and neck tensed briefly into steel and a tingling wave
flooded her body, flushing her cheeks bright red. Her hand trembled tautly, and
the door rumbled and shivered. It slid to the side slowly, invisible hands
pushing it aside. Once it was fully opened, Lal's body sagged, and she nearly
collapsed. Carth and Bastila caught her and held her up.
Lal steadied herself, but her eyes remained vacant,
staring at images long ago departed…
“Didn’t know she could do that,” Carth murmured, keeping a
protective hand on Lal's shoulder.
“She’s remembering,” Bastila whispered, taking hold of
her sister’s hand. She stared into Lal's face and went on, “Sister, what is it
you see?”
“Hell,” Canderous snarled, “I’m picking up an energy
surge--”
Before any of them could respond or react, a flash of
light blazed over them, turning the darkness into day, flooding their sight.
“What the hell is this?” Malak cried as the light washed
across their bodies.
“Don’t resist it!” Revan warned. “Something’s…it’s
scanning us…”
Malak fought to remain calm, grinding his teeth and
squaring his jaw. “What is scanning us, Revan? I’m not sensing anything…”
“I…can…I can feel it…hard to describe…intelligent…?
Alive…?”
The wave of light passed harmlessly over the two Jedi and
dissipated like dew vaporizing in the heat of the
“What is this?” Malak whispered hotly, glancing around at
the hovering strands and streaks of light.
“Machinery…” Revan replied. “Hidden…I can feel the pulse
of engines…the flow of power to…to circuits…capacitors…”
“And these lights?” Malak asked. “Holograms? A
three-dimensional display system, maybe?”
“More than that.” Revan lifted a hand to touch a fan of
flickering lights. The lights changed color suddenly. “An interface system.
Like nothing I’ve ever seen…”
“Interface system…for what?”
“I’m getting some very odd readings, here…” Canderous warned after the
light faded.
Carth frowned at that, and pointed into the chamber
beyond the corridor. “I’d guess it has something to do with…that…”
Lal stared at the floating holographic displays she’d
seen in her vision, manifested now and here, before her. She took a step
towards the room, but her foot hovered in place, not touching the ground. She
hesitated for some reason…She stumbled backwards and shook herself free from
her reverie. “I can’t…I can’t see any more…”
Bastila wrapped her arm around Lal's waist to hold her
sister up. Lal glanced over to her, seeing her face clearly again and smiled, a
silent message of thanks. Then, Lal glanced down to the lightsaber in her hand
and noticed the beam of light shining from it.
“I didn’t know it could do that,” she muttered. “Or did
I…?”
“You were having a vision,” Bastila explained. “Seeing
what Revan and Malak saw.”
“What?” Carth asked suddenly. “Why would Lal see what
those two saw?”
Bastila glanced up at Carth for a moment and shook her
head. “I cannot say for certain, Carth. Perhaps because they were once close. I
shared her dream because we are sisters. It is not…uncommon for Jedi to share
perceptions…memories…even visions of the future. Lal's visions may be the key
to unraveling what it was that Revan found here.”
Carth digested that with a frown and then turned to
Canderous. “Can you make any sense of what you’re detecting?”
“At a guess, I’d say complex machinery” Canderous
replied.
“That’s strange,” Carth said. “How old are these ruins?”
“No one knows for certain,” Bastila told him.
“Colonization of Dantooine is fairly recent. People have only lived here for,
perhaps less than a thousand years. Early prospectors made mention of these
ruins, but there has never been a concerted effort to actually research them.
And the Council’s presence here is really only quite recent, after all.”
“I think it’s an interface,” Lal said, struggling to
piece together the exact words Revan and Malak had said in her vision. “For a
computer system.”
“A holographic interface?” Carth asked. “I’ve never heard
of such a thing. I can think of a few engineers who’d love to be standing here
right now, though.”
“Perhaps not, ‘Public,” Canderous murmured, pointing to
the floor of the chamber before them.
They all glanced to where he pointed and saw a dark stain
of the floor. “Blood,” Carth whispered.
“And recent, too,” Canderous nodded.
“Master Nemo!” Bastila cried, dashing into the chamber
suddenly.
“Basi!” Lal shouted, grabbing after her sister. Bastila
slipped through Lal's fingers, thrusting herself inside the room. Lal followed
without a bit of thought, drawing a shared curse from Carth and Canderous. They
all surged into the room filled with glowing spider webs of light. Carth
whipped out his blaster pistols and cast a wary glance around. Canderous took
up a defensive position on the other side of the door, instinctively seizing a
place from which he could lay down a broad field of fire with his massive
rifle.
Bastila swooped to the floor before a ripped and torn
corpse, tossed casually aside like an old rag doll. A pool of thickened, sticky
blood stained the floor beneath the body, and Bastila gasped in shock and
horror.
“Where is…his head…? Oh, Master Nemo! Oh…”
Lal tugged on Bastila's shoulders and hauled the young
Jedi into her arms. “Who would do something so horrendous?” Bastila moaned
against her sister’s shoulder as Lal hugged her. “They took his head…who would
do that? Who would do something like that?”
“More importantly, who or what could
do something like that?” Carth echoed, leaning over to examine the shredded
body. “Who could do that to a Jedi Knight? He’s still holding his
lightsaber…This happened fast.”
“Visions aside,” Canderous remarked coolly, “I don’t
think we want to find out.”
Carth nodded. “Bastila, Lal…I think we should--”
The door slammed shut with a hiss and a boom, and the
holographic webs flickered angrily with streaks of red. A cold voice thundered
through the air, rumbling in tones that snapped like sheets of thin steel
reverberating in a hard wind.
“Nars haas slus yi sar
ick-thal-ya. Noos saan thi.” A circle of red light appeared
before them and rotated with needles and arrows of flickering green.
Carth snapped his blaster up at the floating circle and
glanced briefly at Lal and Bastila. “What the hell is it saying?”
Bastila shook her head. “I don’t…I don’t recognize…”
“Neet-choo hadda. Nal chut tooda. Yee sai-ooto.”
“That almost sounded like Huttese,” Canderous said.
“Early Huttese,” Lal clarified. “Predates the Hutt trade
language…”
“Add linguist to the list of talents,” Canderous noted
with a snort.
“Can you understand it, Lal?” Carth asked.
She shook her head. “Structure is too different…something
about…image…face…or…or…Identity!
Maybe…maybe it’s asking who we are…”
“My guess is he gave the wrong answer,” Canderous
grunted, nodding once towards Nemo’s corpse.”
“She’s right,” Carth said, “makes sense. Like a computer
requesting a user ID. Can you respond, Lal?”
“And tell it what?” she snapped. “‘Hi, I’m Lal. These are
my friends. I don’t think we’ve bloody met…’”
As she spoke, a grinding of steel against stone hissed
from the walls and ceiling.
“Not good,” Canderous pointed out. He reached into a
pouch at his hip to withdraw a thermal charge. “This should take out the door…”
“And us with it!” Carth cried. “There’s no cover here,
Canderous!”
Canderous whipped around to glare at him, but had no
choice but to agree. “Last resort, I suppose…”
“Band-dee nah sihanjee tahl. Summa that sanji-nod.”
“Wait!” Bastila called out, “I recognized that! Durosian!
It’s like…it’s cycling through the ancient languages…trying to determine a
frame of reference!”
“Durosian,” Lal murmured. She cleared her throat and took
a step towards the red circle. She opened her mouth to reply then turned back
around. “What the hell do I tell it?”
“Tell it to open the damned door!” Canderous snarled at
her.
“I…uh…Sihan…sihanjuu,” Lal began, stumbling over the
Durosian tongue. “Damn it…uh…Band-loo nah! Uh…shian sal…?”
“Scan/scanning local phonemes.
Pattern/patterning.” The voice suddenly fired off a stream of
words in standard Basic Trade, flooding them with a barrage of simple articles
and nouns and verbs. It then flung a horde of prepositions at them, followed by
a volley of adverbs and adjectives, establishing simple translations of basic
concepts. “Analysis complete. Assimilation verified.
Do you understand?”
Lal glanced at Bastila and Carth and swallowed a dry lump
in her throat. “Ah…yes.”
“Voice pattern analysis commencing. Recognized. User
access granted. Defense systems on stand-by. How may I assist you, User?”
Lal scowled in confusion and looked again to Bastila, who
could only shrug. “Um…excuse me? ‘User’? Do you know who I am?”
“This unit is not programmed to provide that information,
User. Please resubmit.”
“Um…okay…how about this…open the door.”
Behind them, the door slid open.
“Time to go,” Canderous grunted, heading for the door.
Carth made to follow him, but Bastila stopped them with a word.
“Wait a minute,” she said. “We cannot leave yet. We must
discover what Revan and Malak were doing here.”
Canderous and Carth shared a glance and a single thought,
which they gave voice to at the same time: “Something evil…”
“No!” Bastila cried. “We have to learn what it is! Master
Nemo died for that knowledge! Whatever it is could be the advantage we need to
bring this war to an end!”
“Damn it,” Carth hissed, “alright…”
Canderous sighed and propped his rifle on his shoulder.
“Well, I never expected to live forever, after all…”
Lal moved to join the three of them at the doorway and
whispered, “I don’t know what to ask it…”
“Perhaps allow me to try,” Bastila offered. She stepped
towards the red circle and cleared her throat. “Yes. Ahem. Please define your
purpose and design parameters.”
“Subject not recognized. Defensive systems engaging.”
“Wait!” Lal cried, stepping in front of Bastila.
“Don’t…do not engage defensive systems! Do you understand?”
The voice hesitated for a moment. “User
command acknowledged.”
“Seems like it only wants to talk to you, Lal,” Carth
sighed. “For some reason it recognizes you.”
“Uh,” Lal went on, “please…define your purpose. And
uh…design parameters. Please.”
“This unit was designed as a stage-2 operations
monitor/sentinel with the intent to oversee and organize slave functions within
this sector. This unit has at its disposal internal and external integrated and
mobile defensive systems to enforce and maintain security. This unit has access
to archive data files x2r45 to a34z15. This unit was modified to provide User
access to command architecture and information systems.”
“Okay…who…who built you?”
“This unit was designed by the Makers.”
Lal frowned, again glancing at Bastila. “Who are the
Makers?”
“The Makers are the ones who rule in complete and
uncontested sovereignty. The Makers are eternal and unyielding.”
“Right…of course. But who are they?”
“The Makers are the ones who designed this unit.”
“I see…” Lal sighed and placed her hands on her hips.
“Hmmm…Give me all information you have on the Makers.”
“Please input User code for information access, User.”
“Oh, hell…”
“Invalid code. Please input User code for information
access.”
“Bloody hell, nevermind…Um…when did the Makers build
you?”
“This unit is incapable of providing an answer within the
parameters of this language. Accessing star chart data. Correlating
astronomical temporal data. Please stand by. Accessing…stand by…accessing.
Correlation complete. Twenty two revolutions of the outermost body in this star
system.”
“Huh?” Lal grunted.
“Oh my…” Bastila murmured softly. “Lal, if what this
thing is saying is correct…why, that’s nearly…it would predate the formation of
the Republic by roughly…thirty thousand years!”
“That’s not possible,” Carth said. “This technology
is…it’s too advanced to be that…thirty thousand years?”
“Since there are no records of these Makers,” Bastila
began, “they are likely extinct. Somehow, Revan and Malak accessed this system.
Reprogrammed it.”
“I must have been here too!” Lal said. “It recognizes me
as a ‘User’…” She readdressed the red circle: “Has this User been here before?”
“Yes.”
“With Revan and Malak?”
“This unit is not capable of providing that information.”
“What? Why not?’
It paused before replying. “This unit was modified to
restrict assess to User identification.”
“Damn it,” Lal growled. “What did the Users seek when
they last accessed this unit?”
“This unit was modified to restrict access to that
information.”
Lal thought for a moment on how to frame her next
question. “What actions did the users take when they last accessed this unit?”
“Users accessed archive file g3t27. Users accessed
archive file g5y03. Users de-initialized security overrides. Users gained
access to Interior Sanctum. Users successfully established secure access to
Maker engineering files. Users successfully engaged cartographic access.”
“That sounds interesting,” Carth noted. “Interior
Sanctum. Sounds important.”
Bastila nodded. “I’m more concerned about these
engineering files…Lal…”
“What information did the Maker engineering files
contain?” Lal asked.
“Specific information restricted. Please provide access
code.”
“Nevermind…um…what is the subject of these files?”
The system unit hesitated again, as if considering its
reply. “The Starforge,” It finally
said.
“Starforge,” Lal whispered, letting the word tumble
experimentally upon her tongue. “Starforge. What is the Starforge?”
“The Starforge is the greatest of all the creations of
the Makers.”
“But what did they…what is…what did they build the
Starforge to do?”
“Access to that information is restricted.”
“Of course it bloody is,” Lal sighed. “Wait, you
mentioned an Interior Sanctum…how do I gain access to the Interior Sanctum?”
The floating lights patterns suddenly shifted, and a
glowing rectangle appeared on the far wall. “Access
is gained through this portal, User. Does the User wish to enter?”
“Um…er…stand by…” Lal turned to face the others for their
opinions. “Well…? Do we?”
“I don’t know,” Carth said. “What the hell is this
Starforge? Whatever it is, Revan and Malak probably took it with them…”
“Maybe the damned thing creates suns,” Canderous
suggested, “going from the name alone, of course.”
“It definitely seems like it is meant to build something,”
Bastila said.
Lal folded her arms over her breasts, and her brow
creased in thought. “What happened to Revan and Malak after the end of the
Mandalorian War?”
“No one knows, Lal,” Bastila said. “Rumor has it they…oh
dear…rumor has it, they disappeared beyond the Outer Rim…and when they
returned, they had a fleet greater than anything fielded in the entire
Republic! Massive, powerful warships of a design never before seen!”
Lal nodded. “Indeed. Maybe that’s what the Starforge
does…or maybe it’s some sort of…shipyard…but that doesn’t…feel
right…”
“Hold on now…that kinda makes sense…” Carth began, his
brow wrinkling as he considered the logic. “Think about it for a minute; Okay,
say the Starforge is some sort of shipbuilding facility. It would mean that
it’s capable of creating an entire fleet of ships like Malak’s Leviathan…almost
literally overnight! How long does it take a normal shipyard to build just a
single vessel? Months? Years? See what I’m getting at here?”
“‘Public’s right,” Canderous said. “Tremendous tactical
and strategic advantage. The one thing that limits the power of any fleet is
attrition. You could create a dreadnaught capable of razing whole worlds, but
the damned thing would literally be too valuable to ever use, for fear of losing
it to battle. That fact limits the strength of your fleet. But if you had…an
unlimited capability to produce dreadnaught class vessels, your losses would
cease to be a limiting factor. No fleet could match you. Nothing could stop
you. It is quite elegant in its simplicity, Lal.”
“I suppose,” Lal shrugged. “I just…I can’t explain it,
but I have this feeling that the Starforge is…I don’t know…more.
More that that…”
“Well, regardless,” Bastila said, “we have to go into the
Sanctum. We have to learn what Revan and Malak learned.”
“Alright,” Carth sighed. “I’m game. But I’ll bet real
money that it ain’t gonna be as easy as just walking across the room and
opening the door.”
Lal nodded and thought about it for a second. Then she
addressed the circle once more. “Will accessing the Interior Sanctum trigger
any defensive or security systems?”
“Yes.”
“Wonderful,” Carth groaned.
“Is there a way for this User to deactivate the security
systems?” Lal asked.
“Implementation of User Identification Code.”
“Which we don’t know,” Carth said. “Great.”
“Wait a minute, wait…” Lal whispered, her mind burning
with sudden random thoughts. “There’s a way around this. This thing is just a
machine…it isn’t actively trying to keep us out…it’s just following a program…”
“What are you thinking, Lal?” Bastila asked.
“How is the User Identification Code implemented?”
“Verbally.”
“I thought so,” Lal smiled. “That would mean that you
have to keep a record of the words used.”
“Correct.”
“Mmm-hmm. Do you have the capability to play back
recorded words?”
“This unit has that capability.”
“Play back all words recorded when the security system
was last de-activated.”
The system hesitated for a moment, and Lal felt her heart
pounding against her chest. She found herself suddenly back in the deep shadows
of Taris, relying on her wits to slip into places, to circumvent security
systems and step where she was not supposed to.
“Play back commencing:”
it finally said. Then, a woman’s voice reverberated through the air in stiff,
disjointed, chopped syllables: “free-dom-is-nev-er-free.”
Bastila released a gasp as she heard those words, drawing
a glance from Lal. “What is it?” Lal asked.
“That voice, Lal,” Carth said.
“Huh?”
“It’s your voice,” he explained.
Lal shook her head and frowned at him. “No it’s…not…” She
lowered her eyes, realizing that Carth was right. It did sound like her voice.
“Did this User implement this code before?”
“Yes.”
Lal clamped a hand to her mouth in shock. “Why can’t I
remember? I don’t understand this! It doesn’t make sense!”
“This unit is not programmed with that information.
Please restate.”
“I wasn’t asking you!” Lal screamed, her fists clenching
into heavy balls at her sides. Bastila stepped forward to take hold of Lal's
shoulders.
“Be at ease, sister,” Bastila murmured in a soft soothing
voice. “We will deal with this later…”
“I should be able to remember!” Lal moaned.
Carth laid a hand over Lal's shoulder and moved close to
her, kissing her temple and whispering into her ear, “Lal, you’re not alone
here, okay? Your friends are here. We’ll deal with this, but right now, we got
work to do. Understand?”
Lal nodded, and stared gratefully at Bastila and Carth.
She turned to Canderous and wondered what expression he wore beneath his
impassive helmet. If he sneered at her weakness. He merely inclined his head
and glanced away from her. Lal nodded again and straightened her field jacket.
She took a step towards the circle and said, “Freedom is never free.”
“Security system disengaged.”
Upon the far wall, a sheet of stone outlined by the green
hologram rumbled aside, revealing a room within faintly glimmering with amber
and green light. Lal sucked in a deep breath and lifted her chin. She moved
across the chamber to the opposite wall, her feet barely touching the floor, it
seemed. The others fell in step behind her, as if they were meant to.
She stepped inside the smaller chamber and glanced
around. Inside there stood a console at the center of the room, twinkling with
scrolling alpha-numerics across the display screen. A few meters away from the
console rested a twisted mesh of black steel and dull red lights, bristling
with slender, spider legs, tapered at the end like spears; with grasping
pincers hanging down to the floor; with blunt angry nozzles and barrels
blackened from carbon scorching.
It was some sort of droid, built solely to inflict pain,
to rip and tear flesh. To destroy. It slowly swiveled a flat ellipsoid head,
studded with a single great red eye, following her movements. Waiting.
When they saw the droid, both Carth and Canderous snapped
their weapons towards it. Bastila swiftly held her hand in front of them.
“Wait,” she hissed, “Lal deactivated the security! But it still might attack if
it perceives a threat from any of us…”
Carth sighed and cast her a doubtful glance, but he
lowered his weapons. Canderous released a growl and moved the barrel of his
rifle aside. Lal kept an eye on the droid as she moved to the console. Keeping
watch on the droid, her hands danced out and of their own volition, tapped a
series of keystrokes on the display screen. She glanced down with a frown of
confusion as a series of alpha-numerics scrolled across the screen. “What…what
happened?”
The others stared blankly at her. “You tapped in a
command, Lal,” Carth said quietly.
“I did? I wasn’t…I didn’t…” Lal stared at them with wide
helpless eyes and shook her head. “I don’t know what to do…I don’t remember!”
“Maybe your mind doesn’t actively remember,” Carth told
her, “but something inside you is starting to, Lal. It’s like…you weren’t
paying attention to what you typed. It was like instinct or something.”
“But I don’t know how to…” Before Lal could finish, a
series of visuals flickered across the display panel; coordinates, planetary
data, star charts. Lal stared down at the panel, her eyes flicking back and
forth across the lines of information, the images flashing and scrolling.
Finally, the screen went blank but for a single flashing
prompt:
WOULD YOU LIKE TO ACCESS
STARMAP DATAFILES?
Lal rubbed a hand down across her mouth and glanced at
Bastila and Carth. “Starmap?”
“Probably a means of finding this Starforge,” Carth
suggested hopefully, resting a hand comfortably at the small of Lal's back and
hovering very close to her. “Look…doesn’t that look like a typical DS-109
dataport?”
Lal stared at the nodule on the left side of the console
and nodded. She supposed Revan and Malak…and she
had modified the systems here to integrate more familiar technology. She held
up her palmtop computer and whispered, “I can upload the files to here…” She
flicked open her comp’s interface port and slid the flat device against the
console’s port where it snapped snugly into place. She entered an uplink
command on her comp and then glanced back down at the console.
“Wait,” she said, “there’s something wrong.”
“What is it?” Bastila asked.
“All this information…it looks like it’s…I don’t
know…corrupted or something. I can only make out some of it…”
“It’s probably encrypted,” Bastila told her. “There
should be a decrypt command in the menu…”
Lal tapped the screen, searching for a decrypt option,
and shook her head. “No, there’s not. It only offers a download option.”
Bastila frowned in thought for a moment. “Well, download
everything you can and we’ll take it back to the Council’s computers. They have
powerful decryption software. We’ll figure it out there.”
Lal nodded reluctantly as something tugged at the back of
her mind. A memory trying to push through, perhaps? But like a word on the tip
of her tongue dancing at the edge of recognition, she could not grasp it.
“Damn.”
“What is it?” Bastila asked.
“I…nothing. Nevermind.” Lal keyed in the sequence to
start the upload. The information trickled through the datalink in tiny
droplets at first, but then, the dam burst and the files flooded into her
palmtop. In seconds, half the palmtop’s empty memory disintegrated, replaced by
swollen virtual packets stuffed with optical data. The memory counter display
bar steadily shrank away to nothing as information shoved itself into the
comp’s storage banks. Finally, squeezing the last errant bits of data onto her
palmtop, the link shut down. Lal checked to make sure the transfer was complete
and then tugged the palmtop free of the data port. “We’re done here,” she said.
As she turned to go, a beam of light erupted from the
base of the console, stabbing straight up towards the ceiling. They all fell
back from the glowing shaft, shielding their eyes from the sharp blue glare.
The beam warped and bulged, seeming to spin, into a circle…a sphere. The sphere
was shot through with tiny strands of light, spaced at even intervals. A grid,
revealing itself in three dimensions before them. Tiny pinpricks of light
erupted within the sphere like stars, clusters of stars, gathered in familiar
patterns like the nebulae that formed the heavens.
“The Starmap…” Lal gasped, staring at the holographic
display in wonder. She reached out to touch a cloud of little stars, twinkling
like diamonds just beyond her fingertips. But her hand passed through them.
“A map of the entire galaxy…” Bastila mused in
fascination, walking around the sphere. “Once, when we were children, we went
to the
“Yeah, I’ve seen it,” Carth nodded. “But there’s just one
problem.”
“Hmm?” Bastila murmured.
“Take a close look,” he urged.
“I don’t…wait…is that the Koornacht?” Bastila asked. “It
shouldn’t be there…”
“Stellar drift,” Carth explained. “This map is nearly
forty-thousand years old. It’s showing the galaxy how it looked back then.”
“Oh,” Bastila gasped, covering her mouth. “Well…but…We
can correlate it with current star charts…can’t we?”
“Maybe,” Carth shrugged. “But star charts have to be
updated constantly, based on newly recorded data. Every time a surveyor puts
into port, they download their navigational scans into the Republic’s
databanks. Navigational markers and galactic buoys are then updated…this is a
constant process. And even then, it’s still not accurate. This thing is so old
that…well, it may not be of any use…”
Canderous cleared his throat. “Perhaps we could continue
this fascinating discussion at another time. Our friend here looks a bit
impatient.”
“Alright,” Carth nodded. “Canderous is right. We probably
have overstayed our welcome.”
The headed back to the outer chamber and prepared to
leave. But Bastila paused at Master Nemo’s body. She glanced up at the others
and tried to speak, but no words left her mouth. Carth turned to Lal, who stood
at her sister’s side.
“Uh,” Carth began nervously, watching Lal's eyes closely,
“I guess we could find a blanket in the Speeder? Canderous?”
“What? It’s a dead body,” Canderous shrugged. “Just an
empty shell. Why do you…Oh hell…”
Lal imagined she could see Canderous rolling his eyes
beneath his helmet, but the Mandalorian went to get a thermal blanket from the
speeder. When he returned, they carefully wrapped Nemo’s body in the blanket
and carried him to the speeder. This seemed to ease Bastila's feelings a bit,
but neither Carth nor Canderous appeared terribly enthusiastic about riding all
the way back with a corpse in the speeder.
As they stowed the body in the rear of the Sorosuub, Lal
stood outside the entrance to the ruins and the questions in her mind danced
wildly with the fears lairing there. She had stood in these ruins at some point
with Malak and Revan. She had learned its secrets alongside those two. That
meant they must have trusted her, even as they turned to the dark side. They
trusted her. And she wondered, she feared what
that meant for her.
*
He growled softly as he watched Lal on the remote
display. She didn’t see the tiny surveillance droid floating twenty meters away
from her. Didn’t know she was being watched. With her hair left unbound,
fluttering in the wind like a dark cloak, she was perhaps the most beautiful
woman he had ever seen.
She had always been beautiful; perfect in her beauty. But
something had changed. He had no words evolved enough to describe her change.
But it left him in awe, with a silent pit of churning nervousness inside him.
It excited him, it confused him. And ultimately, it enraged him.
As he sat many kilometers away, examining the droid’s
telemetry readouts, distracting himself with numbers, the thought occurred to
him that Lal Sideen was so very much like a woman he had known so long ago.
Someone who could have been his mother…or perhaps a sister had she shared any
blood with him. It was one of the few pleasant memories of his childhood, and
it had been so fragile, so fleeting. She had taught him his first letters and
numbers. He recalled little more than her smile, which encouraged him and
shamed him at the same time.
But he had ruined it.
He had ruined everything, and was sent away, to an even
darker place, where he had grown to hunger for the taste of an enemy’s blood.
Where there were no pretty, perfect ladies to guide him in his learning, only
death and killing.
He shook himself from his memories and watched Lal's
perfect form as she turned to climb into the speeder. He didn’t know what had
drawn them across the countryside to those ruins, and he didn’t care. He wanted
to feel Lal's sweet form turn cold in his arms. Wanted to stare deep into her
perfect, sculpted face as her eyes turned into sightless white balls. Wanted to
feel her taut muscles go limp, and know that he had killed her.
But she was careful and she was clever. As always. No way
he could take her with all the people surrounding her. He couldn’t even get to
the Ebon Hawk, safely ensconced away within the Jedi Enclave. It angered him
that he saw Canderous Ordo with her; that man needed a good killing…He had
spent nearly a day, body covered with Kolto sheathes, healing from the burns
Canderous had given him…
He couldn’t touch them. Couldn’t touch Lal. But that
didn’t mean he couldn’t hurt them.
He walked up the ramp into the belly of his ship and
activated the commsystem. “This is