Author's Notes EDITED: Hi guys. Given that this fic has been written over a number of years (and is still in progress, eek!), the quality of earlier chapters is noticeably lower. I'd recommend skipping to chapter 14, which is the final Taris chapter. Also, be warned that this fic sees an average of five updates per year. Slow going, but I've written over 300K words (inclusive of what has already been uploaded) and that count is always increasing.

Chapter 1 – Taris

Darth Revan stood at the head of the Bridge, waiting for the opponents to arrive. Four Jedi entered the room, and everyone but the Dark Lord attacked. Darth Revan stayed put, watching the entertaining–

Amira glanced out at the hangar bay of the Republic ship that had caught their smuggling vessel in a tractor beam.
"Shit-damn," she muttered as they landed and Republic soldiers swarmed up the boarding ramp. Amira and her companions drew their weapons–

Lightsabers snap-hissed to life and swung into aggressive stances. The two wielders, both indistinct figures, began a deadly dance. The red and purple beams of light clashed together, complete with accompanying noises. The two red beams crossed each other, while the single purple beam swung around and sliced through flesh, muscle and bone. Someone howled in pain through the Force, unable to speak–

There was the sound of a large explosion, which made the small pod lurch. The woman's head connected hard with the plasteel wall and her body went slack–

Amira's eyes snapped open as she lurched up in the bed. The world swirled sickeningly so she fell back on the grimy bedsheets. Groping around for a weapon of some sort, Amira realised she had no idea where she was. Well, she didn't intend to stay for long. Unluckily, her hands found nothing useful; but Amira lifted herself up again anyway, slower this time. Her head felt like drunk banthas had partied on it.

"About time. I thought you were going to slip into a coma," a male voice commented. Her head snapped up to see a man in a jacket that was a painful shade of orange entering the run down room. Something tugged on the edges of her memory, but it remained elusive. She could've sworn she had seen him before. . .

"I'm sorry, but should I know you?" Amira was really hoping she hadn't gotten herself incredibly drunk and let this man have his way with her. But the lack of hangover negated that theory.

He half smirked, though concern for her mental state was the dominant expression on his face. "It seems that hit to your head did more damage than I thought–"

"Hit to my head?" Amira echoed in a dangerous tone. If the situation had been less serious, she probably would've made a smartassed comment.

"We were on the Endar Spire and it got attacked by Sith–"

Images of blood, fighting and fire invaded her mind and she heard nothing more of what her companion said.

"I remember. . . most of it. Carth." His name was part of the things which came back to her. There were some holes in her memory, though. Such as, how she got from entering the escape pod to waking up in this room.

Amira tried to slide out from under the covers, but Carth was there in an instant. As he pushed Amira back down, she realised he had been sidling closer throughout the conversation, and sulked for a moment that she hadn't noticed.

"You just woke up. Maybe it would be better to wait a bit before getting up," he said. Amira scowled at him, though Carth ignored it.

"Say, how did we get here from the escape pod? And where is 'here'?" Amira queried, pointing down for emphasis.

"This is an abandoned apartment. I was able to drag you away from the crash site in all the confusion, and I stumbled onto this apartment. By the time the Sith arrived on the scene, we were long gone."

"I guess I owe you my life," Amira admitted grudgingly, "thanks."

"I've never abandoned anyone on a mission and I'm not about to start now. But I'm going to need your help."

"Should I be concerned?" she asked warily.

"Well, if you say that Taris being under Sith control is concerning, then yeah. Their fleet is orbiting the planet, they've declared martial law and they've imposed a planet-wide quarantine."

"Um, yeah, I'm concerned."

Carth shrugged. "I've been in worse spots."

"So have I, but it doesn't change the fact we're knee deep in crap."

"Hey, we have a few advantages," Carth pointed out. "I saw on your service records that you understand a remarkable number of alien languages. That's pretty rare in a raw recruit."

"Hey, I had a life before I got conscripted." A flicker of a frown settled on her face.

"Yes - smuggling and who knows what else."

Amira raised an eyebrow delicately and growled, "You better not be implying what I think you're implying."

"Get your mind out of the gutter," he ordered, before returning back on track, "anyway, there is no way the Republic will be able to help us. If we're going to find Bastila and get off Taris, we won't be able to rely on anyone but ourselves."

"Right. Can I get up now?" Amira sounded like an innocent child, trying to charm the pilot.

While the trick didn't succeed the way it usually did on other males, Carth let her get up carefully. She lurched into him and swore profusely. Oh joy. Of all the crew, I get the one with the really bad language, Carth thought as he steadied her. Amira blushed slightly and lumbered over to what she assumed was the refresher.

"Say, what's your name?" Carth called out.

"Amira." She shut the refresher door.

She went straight to the cracked mirror and studied her reflection. Despite the dim light, she saw that her black hair looked like a womp rat's nest, to which her pale skin seemed to contrast more than usual with. Her eyes were deep emerald, but encircling her pupils there was a thin ring of earthy brown, with some flecks of chocolate invading the jade. There was a dark bruise on one of her cheeks, but it didn't matter much to the woman.

She checked that water was still being pumped to the shower head before quickly stripping down and hopping in. Amira cataloged her injuries, and luckily nothing seemed serious.

Thankfully her worn clothes survived without much injury either. Amira slipped back into her trousers, plain shirt and faded holey jacket. Lastly Amira finger-combed then tied up her shoulder-length hair back into a ponytail, excluding the two shorter locks which immediately fell out to frame each side of her face.

She walked back into the main room and saw Carth wasn't there. Oh man, she thought as she sat down. He probably thought she was the type of woman who would take two hour long showers no matter what the situation was. Well, watch out Onasi, 'cause I'm not a pampered princess, she thought with a smirk as she put her feet on the table.

A few minutes later, Carth came back with some food right as one of the table legs gave way, making the whole thing collapse. Amira flailed for a moment before regaining balance as her feet hit the ground.

She smiled sheepishly and said, "I didn't do it."

"Oh, yeah, I believe you," he replied sarcastically.

"Hey, it ain't my fault if the table decides it wants to break," she protested.

Carth rolled his eyes. "You're like a kid, you know that."

"In some aspects. I doubt a kid could slice into a computer system as well as I can, or fight as well."

"Well, while you make a list of things you can do better than a child, I'm gonna eat lunch."

He tossed her a bottle of water and a box of food. They ate in silence for a while, before Amira asked, "So Bastila is a Jedi, and we have to rescue her. Don't you think she can look after herself, being a Force wielder and all that fancy pants crap?"

"Bastila is going to have an entire army looking for her, while no one is going to care about us. So if we're careful, we can move about Taris without attracting notice; a luxury Bastila won't have. Besides, if Bastila is going to escape Taris, she's going to need our help. And we're most likely going to need hers."

"At this point in time, I don't really think her help will do much."

Carth began to look irritated. "Bastila is the key to the war effort. With her Battle Meditation, she can change the outcome of a battle."

Amira decided to make her opinion clear. "And currently, the Spire is scrap metal floating in space. But if it means getting off Taris, I suppose I can help."

"Good. We're going to need to work together if we're going to survive."

"No shit." Amira stood up and searched for her weapons.

"Will you cut that out?"

"What?"

"The smartass comments."

"What about them?"

Carth scowled at her. "Do you get pleasure from annoying me?"

"Yep," she snickered. "It runs in the family, I swear."

He sighed, extremely irritated, then continued, "Anyway, while you were out I did some scouting around, and some people claim some escape pods landed in the Undercity. That's probably a good place to start."

Amira, who was now buckling on her two vibroblades, looked up. "I hear a 'but' in the offing."

"But the Undercity is a dangerous place. It won't do anyone any good if we go and get ourselves killed."

"Or turned into rakghouls." Amira checked her vibrodagger was still in place then continued, "Come on, I wanna go have a look around."

"Good idea, just remember to keep a low profile. I've heard some dark things about Force powers. They say they can strip away your memories and destroy your very identity!" A shiver tickled unpleasantly up Amira's spine. She tried to ignore her instincts and focus back on what her companion was saying. "But I figure if we don't do anything stupid, we should be fine."

"Define stupid."

Carth glared at Amira, who smiled back winningly. "Let's go," he growled.

They walked out of the apartment, straight into a patrol of Sith.

"OK, you alien scum, everyone up against the wall! This is a raid!"

"One hell of a crappy raid," Amira commented casually as a Duros spoke up.

"There was a patrol here yesterday, and they found nothing! Why do you Sith keep on bothering us?"

The Sith shot down the alien with cold efficiency, then spun to face Amira.

"What did you say?" he snarled.

"I said: one hell of crappy raid! Get your ears checked," she shouted back then sprang at him, drawing her vibroblades and easily killing the Sith. Carth shot his companions, thinking, What happened to keeping a low profile?

"Poor Ixgil," another Duros said as Amira cleaned her blades, "he should never have talked back that Sith, but luckily you took care of them. Thank you, human."

A thoughtful look came across her face. "Won't another patrol look for this one?" She spoke in the Duros' native tongue to be courteous, and gestured to the corpses littering the ground.

"Don't worry, I will move the bodies elsewhere to throw the Sith off the track. Hopefully they won't bother us for a while."

"Alright, thanks." Amira smiled slightly, then continued down the corridor.

Carth caught up easily and asked cautiously, "Is that what you call not attracting attention?"

"Pfft, no. But would you have done different? Besides, it's not like those carcasses are gonna report us." Amira shrugged.

"In future, at least don't speak loudly."

"Right."

They exited the apartments and headed down the street. Amira looked around, trying to set up her bearings.

"But I don't have that much! How can I give you money I don't have?" a panicked voice called. Amira and Carth shared a glance before casually strolling towards to commotion. A human and an Aqualish were in the process of bullying an elderly man.

"That's too bad. Davik's going to want to make an example of you. You're coming with us!"

"No! Somebody, help!"

Amira couldn't help but be surprised that no one else even glanced at the commotion, and took a step closer. From one fight to another, she thought dryly, noting the thugs' drawn weapons. The Aqualish looked up and saw her and Carth.

"Hold on, we've got witnesses. Davik doesn't like witnesses."

"No, I imagine not," Amira noted in a bored tone.

The human made a rude hand gesture. "Bugger off or we'll just have to do something about you, too."

"I would love to see you try," she challenged, drawing her blades. The thugs both raised their vibroblades, though one was shot down by Carth before he could attack. Amira parried her opponent's thrust, then pushed their locked vibroblades to the side. Quicker than the thug could anticipate, her other vibroblade was embedded in his chest. Amira kicked him off her sword and then looted anything of value.

"Thank you - I owe you my life! I should have heeded my wife's warning, she told me not to take a loan from Davik," the merchant exclaimed, speaking quickly and shaking slightly.

"May I inquire who is this Davik?" Amira inquired casually, wiping the blood off her vibroblade.

The merchant looked surprised. "You must be off-worlders," he assumed before continuing, "Davik is a crime lord for the Exchange in the Lower City–"

Comprehension dawned on Amira's features. "Aha, 'nuff said. Crime lord for the Exchange."

"Well, I best be off. Only now I can't pay off my debts so. . ." The merchant walked away, muttering under his breath.

"Do you know where the cantina is?" Amira asked Carth.

"Yeah, it's back there. Let's go." He turned and doubled back the way they came. Amira shrugged then followed.

"I can't believe we didn't get tickets to the Arena match!" one woman exclaimed. Amira looked in her peripheral vision from where she sat on the barstool. The speaker was venting to the man next to her, and Amira assumed he was her husband or something.
"Now we have to watch the duel from the view screen."

"Who cares?" he snorted, "it's just Deadeye and Gerlon fighting again. Nothing exciting."

"Well, let's go watch it." The woman pulled the man up and dragged him away from the bar.

Amira was intrigued, so she downed the rest of her drink and got up. "I wanna see this."

She followed the couple to said view screens, and Amira squeezed through to the front of the crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I draw your attention to the dueling ring. Here two combatants will battle for your viewing and gambling enjoyment. Now, I hope all your bets are down because we're ready to roll!" the announcer started in an excited tone, then abruptly became bored, "in this corner, I give you Gerlon Two-Fingers! And over here, looking to climb the ranks yet again is the ever persistent Deadeye Duncan!"

Amira snorted when Duncan dropped his blaster, allowing Gerlon Two-Fingers to shoot him down. The crowd around her laughed, though a few off-worlders looked disappointed.

"And, to nobody's great surprise, Deadeye is down again. Don't worry, folks - he's just unconscious, as usual. Our medics will have him up and about in a bit. Well, that was quick, wasn't it? So I give you the winner. . . Gerlon Two-Fingers!"

Some people cheered, though others looked bored. Amira weaved back through the dissipating crowd to Carth.

"I've got an idea on how to get credits." Their current amount was pitifully small.

"Tell me, does it have anything to do with the Arena?"

"Of course not. It's to do with the fighting in the Arena." Amira smirked, then turned away back through to another section of the cantina. Spotting a Hutt nearby, and knowing how Hutts love their credits, she decided he would probably have something to do with betting on the Arena participants. A nudge in the right direction on how to sign up, for sure.

Stopping seven feet away from the mass of stinking flesh, Amira and Carth waited for the Hutt to notice them. Fortunately it took only a few seconds."I'm sorry humans - the betting window's closed. No more fights right now. People are sick of seeing the same duelists all the time. It's been bad for business. Unless..." A speculative look came into his watery orb-like eyes. "My name is Ajuur. I organize all the duels here. We need a new face in the dueling game, human. Maybe you want step into the duel ring? It can be a highly profitable venture."

"I might be interested - what's in this for me?" She smiled coyly, deciding to find out just how desperate he was.

"I can arrange for you to fight in the duel ring. If you win, you can get the standard contract: ten percent of all wagers. And don't worry, nobody dies in the duel ring anymore – death matches are illegal now. Most fighters in the duel ring use vibroblades or stun sticks because the ring's pretty small, but a few of the duelists use blasters. Use whichever you prefer."

"Vibroblades and blasters – and nobody ever dies?" Carth looked skeptical. "How come I get the feeling you're trying to take us for a ride?"

"The duel ring has energy suppressor fields to make sure nobody dies. Weapons are limited so they hurt, but don't kill. And we've got a medic droid in case of serious injuries," Ajuur warbled, then turned back to Amira, sizing her up. "Are you interested?"

Amira made a snap decision to push her luck. "I'll do it, but I want more than ten percent."

The Hutt laughed loudly. "You're joking, right?"

"If you think it's funny," Amira shrugged, hiding her disappointment. She liked to think she got points for trying to wheedle credits out of a Hutt.

"If I pay you more, then everyone wants more. No, you get the same as all the others: ten percent. That's my final offer."

"Okay, I'll do it."

Ajuur grinned broadly, and the two humans wrinkled their noses at the stench coming from his mouth. "Good - new blood for the ring! But you need a nickname, like Ice or Deadeye or Twitch. Good nicknames make people bet more. Hmmm. . . what's a good nickname for you?" He was quite for a minute or so, musing. "You're an off-worlder. You're new here, so people won't recognize you. . . I know! From now on in the duel ring you'll be the Mysterious Stranger!"

"The Mysterious Stranger," Amira repeated, rolling the title around her mouth. "I like it!"

He looked incredibly smug, his alien features twisting ways they probably shouldn't have. "The Mysterious Stranger is a perfect name for you. You've got no past, no history. . . it makes you seem like you have a big, dark secret. People like that. Makes them bet more."

Amira snorted quietly. Everything came back to credits when you were dealing with a Hutt.

Now that he had a new participant signed up, Ajuur wanted to start earning more credits ASAP. "You ready for duel now? You want step into the ring right away? I'll tell you the rules if you're ready."

"I'm ready for a duel, and I know how dueling generally works. No death blows, but anything else is acceptable." Amira patted her blades, smiling in a slightly ominous fashion.

"You're new at this, so I'll start you off easy." Ajuur noted how her face fell slightly, but didn't particularly care. "You get to fight Deadeye Duncan. Are you ready to go into the ring now?"

"Let's do it."