"Come on! We've got to go!"
The cry that startled me out of a sleep-induced stupor came from the blond haired soldier that burst through the door to my quarters. Alarms were going off throughout the ship, and my blood ran cold at the realization: we were under attack. Rushing to my locker, I listened with half an ear as Trask (he finally introduced himself) stated our current battle status.
"Everything's in lockdown, but I do have the codes to get us out of here. I know that you're only a scout, but Bastila needs everyone up on the bridge with her to repel the boarders."
My grogginess showed through as I merely nodded and motioned for him to lead on. He strapped on a combat vest as he punched in the codes one handed. The doors hissed open and we raced down the passageway to the main corridor.
On the other side of the access hatch, we could hear blaster fire and the cries of the wounded. The door opened at a touch and we watched helplessly as another crewmember fell to blaster fire in front of us. Trask turned to me, eyes blazing.
"They must be a Sith boarding party!" In a low crouch, he pushed out from behind the cover of the wall and straight into the middle of the hallway, firing as he went. "For the Republic!"
Not being as heavily armored as my companion I kept more to the cover of the wall and fired with two blasters, more to keep the Sith busy than to actually cause damage. Blaster bolts flew down the hallway, and between Trask's brazen offensive and my covering fire, they went down fast. Pausing only to check that the casualties were actually dead and to relieve them of a pair of grenades, we hastened forward.
We encountered a few more soldiers in the honeycombed corridors of the cruiser, but they were easily dispatched from ambush. Fragmentation grenades have a decent miss tolerance, and I didn't miss often when throwing them. Surprising really.
A strangely familiar hum was coming from beyond the next doorway, but it had been sealed by the weight of debris that had fallen in front of it. Forced aside, we took another path. Trask's face showed his anxiety - the Sith were everywhere and Bastila had need of us.
I'd forgotten to ask just why Bastila was so important.
Maybe I knew it by instinct. On the other hand, maybe logic took over at some point. Regardless, when we finally reached an open doorway, we had to halt yet again. In front of us played out a sight familiar in many locations across the galaxy. Lightsabers thrummed with power as they clashed in a battle betwixt dark and light. The female Jedi was slowly besting her darker male counterpart.
"A Dark Jedi! We'd better stay back and let her handle him."
I was almost convinced that Trask just wanted to see the girl in action. A nicely executed parry and riposte felled the man, just as an explosion from inside the walls sent both forms tumbling forward into an intersecting corridor.
Two Sith soldiers ran forward; apparently they'd been watching the battle as well.Trask cursed as they came into view. "Damn! We could have used her help – she was one of the Jedi in Bastila's party."
He wasted no time in blasting our opponents to pieces. Meanwhile I ducked and dove forwards to check on the woman. In a way Trask was right; we certainly could use her help if there were any more Dark Jedi onboard. Otherwise we might be able to handle things ourselves.
Miraculously she was still breathing when I got to her. There was shrapnel from the blast embedded in her back, but not so deeply as to have injured anything vital. Unconscious, I decided. Laying out the medpac, I started to patch her up as my shipmate came over.
He blinked in confusion. "She's alive?"
I nodded. It was easier than speaking right now.
"No time for emergency surgery – it'll have to wait." I ignored him as he blathered on about the obvious. Stripping out of my jacket, I put it on her slender form, and then slung her over my shoulder. Pushing my blaster back into its holster, I took up the fallen lightsabers and clipped them to my belt. There was no need for us to waste weapons in a fight.
"Lead on." Short, simple and to the point. Trask nodded and stalked ahead.
He turned the next corner and I heard blaster fire. The satisfying thump of a frag grenade ended that threat rather quickly. A blonde head peered around the corner and a hand waved 'all clear'.
"You're having way too much fun."
Too bad he couldn't hear me.
He stopped us in front of the bridge. He was grimacing as I came up. "We'll need to equip melee weapons here. The bridge will be too crowded to fight with blasters. Uh, you might want to put her down out of the way."
A bit of hesitation and then I complied, setting my burden back around the corner to protect her from any blaster bolts that might stray out of the fray. Trask was already on the move when I got back, his vibroblade reaching out and gutting the soldier opposing him. The Sith tumbled to the floor, his movements stilling to an occasional twitch. All over the bridge, soldiers were falling and dying. Shrieks and groans rose in cacophony, smoke from exploded instruments creating a fog that hung heavily over the entire compartment.
Precious moments passed as we cleared the bridge of enemy soldiers. When we finished, we were the only Republic representatives left alive. Most of the bridge crew had fled; the few that remained lay in haphazard fashion on the deck.
"Bastila's not here!" Trask shouted over the noise of the continuing explosions. "We'd better head for the escape pods!"
He waited while I ran back to gather the wounded Jedi. Her breathing was steady, a reassuring factor in my eyes. We caught up to our guide again on the bridge, waiting while he fiddled with the panel that would allow us to access the starboard section of the ship. Finally, it opened and he stepped into the adjoining chamber.
The opposite door opened with a well-maintained whoosh and I stopped on the threshold. Standing there with the ugliest grin that I had ever seen (and I'd been places) was another Dark Jedi. His robes were much more ornate than the ones on the other member of his order that we had encountered, so we could assume that this was one of their higher ranked members.
"GO!" Trask was shouting as he burst into motion. His vibroblade rose to intercept the first cuts of the crimson blade as it descended towards his head. "I'll try to hold him off of you as long as I can!"
Hunched over like I was, there was nothing I could do to stop him. As he cleared the doorway and pushed the dark one back, the wall exploded between us. "NO!"
I could only watch in despair as the way closed. Turning, I hastened through a second doorway, ignoring the frantic cries of the Republic pilot who urged me to hurry to the escape pods.
How I made it through the remaining corridors I will never know. Somehow, I managed to duck and weave my way through a hail of blaster fire and still shoot my antagonists without injuring my burden. I did maintain enough presence of mind to reduce the last ambush squad to charred remains by remotely overloading the main circuit in the room. Carth opened the doors to greet me and raised an eyebrow as he noticed what I carried.
"Hurry up! Bastila's pod is already away. You," and here he paused for a short moment, "are the only remaining crewmembers left alive. We've got to get out of here."
He led the way into the pod, helping me as I handed the unconscious Jedi aboard. We blasted away just in time to view the final destruction of the vessel we had crewed.
Excerpt from the Journal of T. Arath
Carth watched as the scout sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the pallet to rest on the floor. He looked terrible, the Republic soldier noted, almost worse than when he'd been dragged in here half dead from the landing. Rising from the side of his other patient, Carth moved towards the middle of the room.
"Hey, you're awake. It's been touch and go for the past couple of days. Ever since I dragged you in here after we landed."
Gesturing behind him to where a woman lay, he raised an eyebrow at his fellow survivor. "Course, you're doing better than she is by any stretch."
Tevan winced as he swung his legs off the pallet. The dream had been all too real. Lightsabers were clashing in front of his face, and a beautiful Jedi battled against a hooded figure. She won just as the dream ended, and he had awoken to pain in his body.
Carth's greeting took him somewhat by surprise, and the scout looked up quickly. "Yeah, I guess so."
The soldier took a closer look. "I'm Carth, you do remember me right?"
"On board the Endar Spire, right? I remember you." Tevan nodded, noting absently that his neck didn't hurt from the motion. His body was beginning to feel a little better already. Encouraging.
"I managed to get both of you inside this abandoned apartment before the Sith investigation teams converged on our pod. It took a little bit of doing, but I think we are safe for the moment. While you were out, I managed to find out that several pods crashed down in the Undercity. I think that one of them was Bastila's. We need to find her fast, and then get out of here."
"The Sith?" Tevan wasn't thinking too clearly.
"Yeah." Carth was nodding his head as he turned around and paced the floor. "They've got Taris under their thumb right now. There's a blockade to stop anyone from leaving the planet. Like I said, we've got to find Bastila and then figure out a way off of this place."
The scout stood up and stretched. "Any ideas of where to start?"
"Not really, but I figure with all the Sith out there looking for Bastila, as long as we're careful they won't be paying much attention to a couple of grunts like us."
Tevan shrugged. It was fuzzy logic, but then again, everything was fuzzy right now. "Let's get going then, as long as she'll be okay?" He gestured towards the still form on the bed to let Carth know about whom he was speaking.
The pilot raised an eyebrow. "Can't really say, but I think the Sith are done doing sweeps of this place. If she were awake, we'd know better. We'll have to get some medical supplies anyways."
"Right." Tevan still looked unsure, but he strapped on his blaster anyway. "Lead on."
The atmosphere in the cantina was charged with emotion when the two off-worlders entered. Small knots of conversation were formed in the main areas, mostly consisting of slurs towards both the occupying forces and the travelers' trapped planet-side. Most of the locals ignored the few Sith officers enjoying the hospitality of the place.
Carth frowned as he recognized the military types. Even though most of them were on the edge of a good buzz, they still might cause problems if they figured out who had just entered their little world. Luck seemed to be with him however, as none of them paid any attention beyond a casual first glimpse.
He led the way over to the viewing room and stepped up to one of the monitors there, trying to blend in with the atmosphere. He watched with half-hearted interest as a farce of a duel played onscreen. The bottom ranked player was soundly defeated with one shot. 'Typical…'
He looked around for his companion to comment on the show and found him gone. 'Slowly… He can't have gotten far. Blast it all!'
Stiffly Carth surveyed the room, moving over towards the doorway as he did so. His hand dropped surreptitiously to his blaster, a move not necessary as he found Tevan on the opposite end of the room talking to the Hutt that ran the dueling establishment.
The soldier eased himself over to stand within distance of their conversation. He was just in time to hear the conclusion of their bargaining. "…pay fair price for what you pull in. You'll need a show name though – how about 'Mysterious Stranger'?"
Tevan shrugged and nodded assent. "Fine. I'll be back in a little while then."
He turned to find Carth right behind him. "We need the credits."
"Yeah, smart idea. Glad to know that you're not using your real name in the circuit."
The scout shrugged. "No one ever does."
"Right. So why the arena? Why not play some pazaak?" Carth indicated the tables set up near the entrance staffed by a couple of brightly shirted players. Tevan merely rolled his eyes at the question.
"Because my luck is terrible when it comes to games of chance. Dice, cards; I just never have them turn out right. In fact, once when I had a pazaak board that was rigged in my favor, it broke down without me winning a single hand." The scout smiled grimly. "That's why I'm sticking to something that I have a chance at."
They had reached the central room by then, stopping in an unoccupied alcove. Tevan laid a hundred credits on the table in front of the Republic soldier. "I won't need this. If you can make more out of it, be my guest. I'll be back to the apartment late with medical supplies. It'll take a couple of duels before I actually begin to draw a crowd."
Carth nodded, reaching out to deposit the credits inside a vest pocket. "Fine. Just – be careful. I'll try to find out more info before I head back."
Tevan watched for a little while as his comrade sat in at the pazaak tables. It wasn't spectacular, but apparently he won a few games. A blonde haired hustler was trying to pick him up when he got up to leave. The scout turned his eyes away without learning whether Carth had taken her up on her offer.
He limped into the apartment late that evening, dragging an inebriated form along with him. During the lull in the arena battles, he had managed to strike up a conversation with one of the female officers in the cantina. She'd ranted on about how people just didn't have the right view of things – why the Sith on Taris didn't have it all that great, but were they complaining? Of course not!
A few drinks later, and she invited her sympathetic listener to a party later in the evening.
Tevan had gone there after winning his last battle that evening, a rematch with a fighter called Ice. Credits had been flowing on the contest, the woman having fought desperately before succumbing to his skill. Her tactical decisions just were not very sound…
At the party, Tarisian Ale had been in abundance, a fact rendered moot by the low tolerance of all the drinkers. None of them was on duty the following day, which led them to let loose with the regrettable consequence of falling asleep in the middle of the party. Tevan had taken the opportunity to rifle through some of their belongings and snatch up a few uniforms before taking his female admirer and dragging her off with him.
There had to be a scapegoat for the missing items after all.
'Of course, you didn't know that when you asked me to come to that party did you Sarna? You only thought that you'd found a sympathetic ear.'
"Perhaps the ear is more sympathetic than you realize."
Carth started awake as Tevan lay his burden down on the bed. The pilot rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he dropped the barrel of his blaster towards the floor. "What in the world!"
The scout merely held out his hand and dropped a rucksack on the floor. His eyes closed as the slumped into one of the rickety chairs that had been inside of the apartment when they first arrived. "Just a ticket for our security. I had to steal some uniforms so we could access the Undercity. She's the junior officer who is going to be the recipient of the blame for a very bad prank."
That was the last comment from the scout, his body finally giving out and leaving him unconscious. Carth blinked himself fully awake and set about fixing up the newcomers – one in bonds and the other in bandages.
After all were comfortably situated in beds, the pilot situated himself on the rickety chair in the corner. He dumped the rucksack out on the floor and stared with some appreciation at the pile of credits that fell out, along with the promised medpacs.
"Well…" The pilot turned to stare at the unconscious figure on the bed. "Somebody was busy today."
AN: Just another freak idea that hit me as I played through KoTOR. (I still don't have KoTOR2, no money... SOB) Anyway, the idea was something to the effect of 'what if the jedi girl survived instead of died on the Endar Spire'? Being my brilliant self, I figured that I ought to write it up. shrugs Or maybe not so brilliant. I may or may not continue this, depending on if anyone is actually interested in reading it.
Of course, progress will probably be slow. I do have other stories that I'm writing, some of which actually generated reviews. This means readers and I'm much more motivated to actually accomplish something for my readers...
So review. Or don't.
(I appreciate reviews... so do my non-existent muses)
Later,
Trevor X