Disclaimer: I do not own KOTOR. That pleasure belongs to George Lucas, Lucas Arts, and BioWare Corp. Everything belongs to them, except for the silly little things that popped out of my head for fun.
The Endar Spire
The clatter of several trays dropping on the table near her head made Rhyska Nevar jerk awake in sudden surprise. Blinking away the sleep in her eyes, five blurry looking people came into focus. Beside her, three mercenaries, a scout, and a very purple Twi'lek chuckled and grinned at her expression of annoyance.
"You know, in certain parts of the galaxy, people get blasted for crap like that," Rhyska muttered darkly.
Taking that as an invitation, the five of them sat down around her and began simultaneously eating and cursing their rations.
"How in space can you sleep with all this racket?" the Twi'lek asked in amazement.
Rhyska thought about it for a moment as she looked around the mess hall. It was the middle of shift change and the place was filling up fast. Because the Endar Spire spent a great deal of time out in the space lanes, patrolling its given sector, the mess hall had become the unofficial area for most every kind of social interaction. Soldiers and techs poured in and out seeking the company of friends, idle gossip, and some food before and after their shifts. The clatter of eating utensils, shuffle of bodies, stomping of boots, and the constant chatter of voices reverberated around the room in an orchestra of noisy sound.
Good question… She remembered grabbing a cup of caffa and sitting down, but she didn't remember more than that. I must have been really tired.
Rhyska shook her head and reached for the cup of caffa she had set down earlier. "It's a gift. You can ask my bunkmate. I sleep like the dead," she replied, eliciting a couple of laughs from her friends. Eyeing her crewmates irritably, she drank down some lukewarm caffa and grimaced at its sour taste. Despite her bad mood, she managed a small smile as she watched them.
They had all met as perfect strangers on Manaan and been shipped off for a tour of duty aboard the Endar Spire together. In the three months that she had gotten to know them, they had developed the kind of bond only fellow loners could understand. Rhyska liked them all just fine. In fact, they were about the only people on board the rusty Republic bucket she liked at all.
The war between the Republic and the Sith Lord Malak had devastated the fleet's numbers, forcing them to begin hiring mercenaries and the like to flex out the ranks. Three mercenaries, a scout, a code splicer, and her own smuggling self rounded off their group of misfits among the Republic's dedicated own. Besides offering a wide array of skills for the Republic's disposal, they also happened to call the Outer Rim home, which is exactly why they were pulled for this particular tour.
Kelvin, Gadaar, and Merel were the human mercenaries the Republic had contracted in Manaan. They were a colorful bunch. Clashing often with the soldiers they were paired up with, they provided more than enough drama to entertain the whole of the Spire. Rhyska was often amused by the three of them. If they weren't irritating themselves, they were irritating someone else. Of course, it required little effort on their part.
As much fun as the boys were, they didn't entertain everyone. It rankled more than a few of the crew to know that the mercs were simply in it for the money and not because saving the ass end of the galaxy was the right thing to do. There was also the question as to whether or not the mercs would hold to their contract, which was stupid. Rhyska had rolled her eyes at some of the crew's inability to understand the very simple rule that all mercenaries lived and died by. Anyone who knew mercenaries knew that so long as they were paid, they would perform. However, if the credits stopped rolling for any reason, the contract was forfeit. So from day one, it was a pissing contest between the hard core soldiers and the riotous mercs.
Sandy haired, sleepy eyed Beltren was the scout of the group and the only one the crew was openly friendly with. As a scout, Beltren had been to many worlds, knew quite a few alien dialects, and was good in a fight. His quiet and easy going charm made him popular with the ladies, but the other reason he got along so well with the crew was that he was Telosian. He wasn't recruited for the war effort. He had volunteered.
Rhyska watched as Beltren flirted with some off duty med techs from another table. Beside him Gadaar, the dark haired explosives expert, cleaned off his tray. His brother Kelvin, the sharp shooter, muttered conspiratorially with Xirel, the Twi'lek. They shot devious looks in Merel's direction and Rhyska had a feeling things were about to get interesting. Her intuition was confirmed when Xirel nudged her foot with his and tapped his fingers on the table in quick succession.
Xirel was an expert code slicer who was always complaining about everything; his quarters, his roommate, his work schedule, his work, the food, and everything else under the blazing sun and starry sky. Xeril bitched and moaned like there was no tomorrow. Rhyska never failed to get a giggle out of watching Xirel cause havoc amongst their peers. She and Xirel had both been drafted into the fleet and were none too pleased with their assignments. Xirel did the job he was asked to do, but the price for his skill as a slicer was a never ending barrage of complaints. Unfortunately for his superiors, Xirel's skill really did outweigh his aggravating persona.
Merel, the heavy weapons specialist of the group, had barely touched his food. His attention was focused solely on Rhyska. He shared a knowing look with his fellow mercenaries before he asked with a grin, "How the hell are ya, Nevar?"
Rhyska narrowed her eyes and stared at him utterly vexed. If she'd had a stun baton on her, she would have jabbed Merel in the gut a couple of times just to watch him twitch. He knew damn well how she was doing.
"I don't know," Rhyska began acerbically. "How does it look like I'm doing?"
Merel pretended to consider her question for a moment as he gazed at her. From the first day they had met, he had found her to be an unusually attractive woman. Someone he would describe as more exotic than pretty. She had no really outstanding features other than the violet highlights in her black hair, a common trait in most Deralians. In fact, there were a handful of women currently in the mess hall that surpassed her in classically good looks. Merel supposed it didn't help that her body language usually warned people to piss off before getting close enough to really see her.
"You look like a herd of nerf ran you down and then backed up."
Rhyska stuck her tongue out at him and drank down some more caffa. She really did look like she'd been run through the ringer, he thought to himself.
Her hair was a disheveled mess hastily pulled back into a knot and her usually smoothed bangs were askew. Her clothes were rumpled and she looked as though she had been wearing them for some time now. He watched as she yawned and rubbed her tired eyes. She looked like she could use some sleep.
She stretched, raising her arms over her head in an attempt to wake her body up. Merel hid a small smile as he watched her move. Whatever she lacked in looks, she made up for with a strange kind of feline grace he found mesmerizing. They often partnered together during weapons practice and he found himself admiring the way she moved whenever they sparred with vibroblades. The penalty for distracting himself with her athletic physique usually landed him on the flat of his back and her blade at his throat. Normally, being dumped on his ass by a girl might have embarrassed and even angered him, but Rhyska's playful nature and infectious charm salved his pride. Besides, he returned the favor as often as he could. He liked that he didn't have to hold back with her. When they sparred, they went all out.
There was a side to her that few on board the Spire ever saw. The friendships she had forged didn't extend beyond their tight knit group. It had become evident right from the start that she was the kind of girl that you either loved or hated. Of course, her superiors disliked her intensely. She was stubborn to a fault and treated everything as if it were just one big joke. Though she did as she was told, she only did what was required and with as little effort as possible. Her lack of effort to try and get on with the people around her bred suspicion, rumors, and dislike. She fueled the fire by saying or doing completely outrageous things, especially in front of the Jedi. Merel didn't know what it was about the mystics that set her off, but she exhibited a strange and inexplicable dislike for the champions of the Republic.
Though she was unpopular, she was not without skills. Rhyska was something of a Jack of all Trades. Though languages were her forte and one of the main reasons she was aboard the Spire, she was also a decent mechanic and was often pulled for tech duty. He also deduced from the way she and Xirel got on that she knew something about security and computer splicing. What little time she had to herself outside of her tech shifts, she spent improving her skills or learning new ones. In the last few weeks, Gadaar had introduced her to the wonderful world of explosives and more recently Rhyska had asked Beltren to help her improve her hand to hand combat skills.
On the rare occasion she wasn't using her time for self improvement, she used it for the one thing she did enjoy doing with the crew… gambling. The pazaak tournaments she hosted didn't require like or trust; in fact, it only required credits and a really good side deck. It was also the reason she was in such a surly mood this morning.
"Did the Lieutenant rip you a new one?" Merel pressed. The boys looked at her expectantly, awaiting confirmation.
"My ass is hanging off the bench isn't it," Rhyska replied acidly. That got her a few shaking heads and muffled chuckles.
They were all familiar with the weekly pazaak tournaments. They often dropped by in between sets to see who was losing and who was cleaning up, but none of them ever played. During that long shuttle ride to the Endar Spire they had all learned that playing with Rhyska meant losing more than just credits. It meant losing some of their best equipment. By the time they had reached the Spire, she had made off with Xirel's silver security cuff, Gadaar's spare grenade pouch, and Beltren's boot knife. He and Kelvin had been smart enough to stop gambling after they had run out of credits.
The night before last should have been like all the tournaments before, people playing, winning, and losing. That was how it started, but not quite the way it ended.
"So Rhyska, I heard you suckered that new pilot into playing for everything he had, right down to his skivvies," Beltren said in a low voice.
"Did you now," Rhyska muttered sarcastically.
Beltren grinned. "I heard he left your quarters bare assed and embarrassed, with nothing but his helmet covering his family jewels!"
Rhyska closed her eyes and shook her head as the lot of them began snickering. The pilot, whose name she couldn't even remember, had been razzed all the way back to his quarters by his fellow crewmates. They were all so busy pestering him they didn't notice a retinue of Jedi escorted by some officers exiting the turbo lift into the crew quarters. When the pilot had come to a screeching halt, his friends had run into him and knocked his only cover from his grasp. The end result left the pilot exposed in front of the small band of Jedi and an apparent Hero of the Republic. Mortified didn't quite cover it.
"Yeah," Rhyska nodded with a tight smile. "That's about accurate."
From what Merel understood, it hadn't been much later that Ensign Ulgo, Rhyska's bunkmate, had dropped by with orders to escort her to the Lieutenant. She had been forced to return everything she had won that night, credits included. The Lieutenant had also confiscated Rhyska's pazaak cards and lucky side deck with strict orders banning the playing of pazaak on board the ship. He had also suggested that since she seemed to have so much extra time to herself, she could start her shift early. If the rumors were true, then Rhyska had been working for nearly forty-eight hours straight with only a few cat naps during breaks.
Merel felt bad for her, but he couldn't stop laughing because it was so damn funny. Kelvin shook his head in amazement. "How do you manage to get into these things?"
Rhyska shot him an icy look and hissed in exasperation, "It wasn't even my fault! I didn't make the kid gamble away his skivvies! I told him I was serious about playing and that he shouldn't bet anything he was gonna regret losing. Well, he did. Leaving the room without a stitch on was totally his choice. I'm not about to feel sorry about him flashing the Jedi and some visiting war hero!"
With a dismissive wave of her hand she muttered, "I'm sure everyone got a real thrill out of it anyway." They all continued laughing at her and Rhyska gave up and let them. She supposed if it had happened to one of them she'd be laughing…A lot. With a tired sigh, she downed the rest of her caffa and whined inwardly, they didn't have to confiscate my pazaak cards and lucky side deck!
Gadaar was chuckling at her disheartened expression when he spied a familiar pair of eyes gazing right at them. Plenty of people watched them, but they usually looked away whenever he caught them at it. The unwavering gaze of Trask Ulgo was focused, yet again, on Rhyska Nevar. "Your boyfriend's watching you again," Gadaar announced.
Rhyska frowned and the six of them all slowly turned to look directly at Trask, mimicking his blank stare. Trask's face was as unreadable as stone, but for a slight crook of the brow. She imagined all of them staring at him made him uncomfortable.
"Oh him? I forget his name. He's watched me from day one. The Lieutenant probably thought I was gonna rob everyone on the level blind." Rhyska tilted her head and watched as Trask shifted nervously in his seat.
"Probably doesn't want you or the other guy starting shavit over your little game," Xirel pointed out.
"Sore losers," Rhyska said under her breath. "Wave to the nice handler, boys."
With equally blank faces, they waved at Trask. His stony gaze faltered and for a moment he looked extremely perturbed at their action. They all snickered and turned back around.
"He seems all right," Rhyska began. "He's never gone through my things. He's like a polite, detached babysitter."
"Well, so long as you know," Merel muttered.
Rhyska shrugged. "He doesn't bother me." Beside her Xirel nudged her foot once more and tapped his fingers again, signaling her. Flicking a quick look at Kelvin, she noticed him slipping a small empty vile back into one of his many utility belt pouches.
Whatever prank they had planned was put into effect while everyone was distracted by Trask. Looking at Merel, she smiled. "You should finish your food before it gets cold, or at least drink something."
Merel returned her smile with a flirtatious one of his own. "That's the plan."
To the rest, she said, "I'm gonna enjoy sleeping for the next couple of hours. Unless they plan on crashing this rickety boat, don't bother waking me. I wasn't kidding when I said I sleep like the dead."
Rhyska stood and navigated her way around people and tables, nodding at Trask as she passed by and exited the mess hall. The only thought on her mind was falling into bed and maybe never getting up again.
Trask Ulgo sat a couple of tables away and watched as the specialty recruits erupted into laughter at one of their own. The object of their amusement, Rhyska Never sank against the table in dejection. Many of the nearby occupants of the mess hall were listening in on the conversation at that particular table. Everyone had heard of rumors of what happened the other day and they were all curious as to what had really gone on. He didn't have to wonder. He was there.
It had taken monumental effort not to burst into laughter or show emotion on his face when he, Commander Onasi, and the Jedi they had been escorting were flashed. To make matters worse, they had just finished a late briefing in which the Commander had argued that Malak's fleet had been sighted in the quadrant and that stopping at Taris would expose themselves unnecessarily. Jedi Shan had reminded Commander Onasi that she had been given charge of the Endar Spire and not even he knew the parameters of their classified mission. She had stated, in no uncertain terms, that they were going to stop at Taris.
Trask expected to find either an upset or embarrassed superior officer staring at the scene before them. Instead, he was surprised to find that Commander Onasi was grinning at the startled group of Jedi and especially at Jedi Shan's look of shocked discomfort. They had excused themselves quickly, a male Jedi lending the young man his outer brown robe before leaving them standing alone in the hallway. Trask couldn't recall ever seeing Jedi make such a hasty retreat.
After imparting some words of wisdom to the younger pilot, the Commander left Trask with the duty of escorting the lot of them down to the On-Duty Lieutenant to report the incident before anything else happened. When the report was given and all but the pilot sent away, Trask was sent to pick up Rhyska.
The second Trask heard the word pazaak in the debriefing; he knew it could only be Rhyska. As her bunkmate, he was well aware of the little pazaak tournaments she held in their quarters. It wasn't even the first time someone had lost all their clothes in the game. This just happened to be the first time they got caught. Unfortunately, it was also going to be the last time.
Trask felt strange having her as a bunkmate and more than just for the crazy things she did. From the first day she had arrived, the Jedi had charged him with her surveillance. When they had asked him to keep an eye on her, he was somewhat conflicted. Part of him thought it was nothing more than a glorified babysitting job. Another part of him wondered what was so fascinating about this woman that the Jedi wanted her watched. The thing that bothered him the most was that according to the Jedi, she was equally as important as Bastila Shan, the Jedi renowned for killing the Dark Lord Revan. Watch her, guard her, and protect her: three very simple commands that left a trail of questions in their wake.
Rhyska Nevar had been on the ship a good long while and Trask had found her to be anything but dull. Still, the more he watched her, the more he wondered what it was exactly he was watching her for. He had come across a couple of Jedi before the tour on this particular ship and like most people, he knew that Jedi showed no emotions and that they controlled themselves in such a way that even their own bodies were honed to obey the slightest thought. He had heard some Jedi could hold their breath for hours, others could slow the beating of their hearts and place themselves into deep trances, and some of them could even absorb different kinds of energy.
The stuff he'd heard about the Sith were no less impressive, but a great deal more scary. He was a soldier and he followed orders. He didn't ask why, but Trask couldn't help but notice that on several occasions when Rhyska's behavior had bordered on volatile during melee weapon's practice, a few of the Jedi would watch her anxiously. Beneath a veneer of icy calm, Trask could see layers of fear. For reasons he couldn't fathom he was almost certain that the Jedi were afraid of the little smuggler. It was a thought he pushed to the back of his mind and tried to ignore. Every so often though, he would watch Rhyska and wonder what the Jedi had in store for her.
He called his thoughts back to the task at hand and found himself to be on the other side of the scope. Much to Trask's surprise they had all turned around and waved at him. He had hoped with so many people in the mess hall they wouldn't notice him, but they did. He did his best to hide how embarrassed he was. Blast! I really hate this assignment!
Trask looked away briefly after that, muttering to himself about not being cut out for covert spying of any sort. Rhyska had left shortly after that, nodding at him on her way out. She didn't look mad, she just looked tired. He was just getting ready to leave himself when a howl erupted from the table she was just at. Merel was hopping around, clutching at his throat, and making strange choking noises. Beltren and Gadaar looked confused and were pushing glasses of water to Merel. One of the pretty med techs had come over and began asking him medical questions. Trask noticed that Xirel and Kelvin were slowly edging away with feigned looks of shock and innocence.
Trask watched as Merel drank down as many glasses of water as he could until he rasped out, "Kelvin, you scrunty little bastard! You put Flameout in my drink!"
Kelvin didn't wait for Merel to jump over the table. He made a run for it while Xirel lost himself in the crowd, a very impressive thing to do considering his bright purple coloring. With that, chaos ensued as Merel chased his fellow mercenary out the nearest exit.
Trask shook his head and sighed. "One crazy thing after another..."
A couple of hours later, the answer to Trask's earlier question about the Jedi's interest in Rhyska came a lot sooner than he thought. The Endar Spire had just taken up orbit around Taris and was in the process of ironing out shore leave on the skyscraper world when the first hit rocked the ship.
Like a vine snake rearing its head to strike, Sith Destroyers and small range fighters slithered out from behind Taris and moved to intercept. The Spire rocked again and the battle station alarms sounded off. Orders were being barked left and right and for a moment Trask was lost. His hand was sliding down to his holster for his blaster when she appeared beside him. Auburn bangs were swept to the side and her hair was secured into pig tails. Piercing gray eyes rimmed in cobalt blue with arched brows and full lips were the focal point in a creamy oval face. It was almost enough to distract him from the small, slightly upturned nose and the stubborn set of her jaw.
She was prettier than a Jedi had right to be, Trask thought absently. Beauty was wasted on the Jedi… So was attraction, but there was power in her. Even Trask could feel it in her stare. Her lean and shapely form was held rigid as the ship was rocked by enemy fire once more. "The smuggler," Bastila said to him. "She needs to get off the ship."
"It looks like everybody's gonna need to get off the ship, Master Shan," Trask pointed out flatly.
"I am not a master," Bastila corrected him as she steadied herself against one of the computer terminals. "And you're right. We need to get off this ship, but it is imperative that she escape as well. I need you to find her and bring her to the bridge."
"Aye-aye, ma'am," Trask said grimly as he pulled his blaster pistol and high tailed it down the corridor.
He barreled past other crew members who hurriedly rushed to their assigned posts. Techs and droids were desperately trying to repair and reroute damaged conduits. Their efforts shut down a good portion of the elevators on the level he was on. Trask cursed as he had to find a secondary route to the crew quarters. Cutting through the mess hall, he found a working elevator and headed for his quarters, desperately hoping that because the attack was happening on his shift, she'd be sleeping, or at least nearby.
A group of armed guards followed by Kelvin, Gadaar, and Merel went running past him, armed to the teeth and tossing grenades to one another before splitting off in two separate teams. Beltren came running up with some of the medical staff and Xirel, who was muttering to himself in wild tones and clutching at his head tails protectively.
"Trask!" Beltren called out. "What in space is going on?"
"We've been ambushed by the Sith," Trask explained as he passed them by. "Have you seen Rhyska? Never mind. If you haven't got orders, you should get up to the bridge quick as you can."
"Where are you going?" Beltren hollered to Trask who was picking up his pace.
"I'm following my orders," Trask threw over his shoulder as he ducked down another corridor. Another blast rocked the ship violently and sent Trask sprawling on to the floor. A familiar voice on the coms sounded out, "All hands to battle stations! I repeat…All hands to battle stations!"
Trask picked himself up and pushed onwards. He had begun running again when the sound of blaster fire rang out behind him. A Sith trooper was shooting at him. Trask turned around the corner and fired at the intruder. Repeated shots to the chest melted through the substandard bronzed armor and Trask cursed under his breath, "What huttspawn assigned me a room at the end of the longest flaming hallway on this blasted ship?"
He finally made it to his room without incident, but the alarms were still ringing and blaster fire could be heard in the distance. A firefight was in progress and he didn't want to be caught in it.
He rushed into his room and what he saw completely baffled him. On the one hand she was in the room, which saved him the trouble of tracking her down. On the other hand she was out cold or still asleep, he couldn't tell which. Quickly, he sealed the door to their room and went to her. It looked as though she had fallen out of her bed. Her body was twisted slightly, with her head and most of her torso resting on the cold floor. A thin blanket was tangled around her and her legs were still somewhat propped up on the bed. She snored loudly, much to Trask's surprise and he could see a small amount of drool collecting on the floor. He arched a brow and knelt down beside her.
Shaking her shoulders, he hollered in her ear, "Nevar! Wake up!"
Instantly, she was a twitching mass of groggy nerves. "Wha yer want? Slipping…"
"We've been ambushed by a Sith battle fleet! Come on, Nevar! We are under attack! We don't have much time!" Trask patted her cheeks smartly to wake her up.
She swatted at his hands and pulled herself into a sitting position on the floor and asked dazedly, "What? Who are you?"
Another hit rocked the already fragile ship causing Trask to steady himself against her bed frame. "Force preserve us! How hard did you smack your head when you hit the floor?"
Rubbing dark eyes still foggy with sleep, she asked, "I hit my head?"
Trask howled and grabbed at his hair before bounding over to her footlocker and grabbing her things. Throwing her clothes at her, he hollered, "Put those on! I'll see if you have anything we're gonna need. This is obviously going to take awhile, so we are either going to blow up with the ship, or die in an ambush by the invading Sith."
While Trask sorted through her weapons and gear, Rhyska slipped into her red and gray uniform. "What the hell was your name again?"
"My name is Trask Ulgo. I'm an ensign with the Republic fleet aboard the Endar Spire." Looking at her pointedly, he said, "That would be the name of the ship we are on."
Rhyska nodded as she strapped on her lucky black space boots, slid in her boot knife and began filling her utility belt and grenade pouch with some tools and goodies from a box underneath her bed.
"We share these quarters, but I work the swing shift so I suppose that's why you don't recognize me."
"No, I recognize you," Rhyska muttered as she buckled her stealth unit. "I just can never remember your name, plus I'm a little bit slow to wake up."
She slipped a blaster into her hip holster and pulled her hair back into a pony tail. Hooking her vibroblade to her belt, she brushed back loose tendrils of hair behind her ears as she scanned the room for her security cuff. Locating it on the nightstand nearby her bed, she slapped it on and exclaimed, "I'm all set. Let's blaze, roomie. Where are we off to?"
Trask went to the door and used his security codes to unlock it. He peeked out the door and held his blaster pointed up and ready to fire. "We've got to hurry. We need to find Bastila! We need to make certain she makes it off the ship alive."
Rhyska followed closely behind him, her vibroblade ready for action. "Who's Bastila?"
"Blast it! She's our commanding officer! Well, not really, but she is in charge of this mission. Are you screwing with me? How could you not know that?" Trask growled impatiently. "In the event of an attack, kind of like the one we're in the middle of right now, it's our job to make sure she survives."
He rushed down the corridor with Rhyska running along side him. He was a good foot taller then she was, so she made up for his long strides with extra steps. They ran past an astromech droid repairing a damaged wall unit until they came to a full stop in front of a sealed door.
Trask set a large hand on her small shoulder and said quite seriously, "I've heard all about you, Nevar. I know you ran spice and arms for the Hutts before getting pinched by the Fleet. You haven't exactly been the sterling soldier, but you swore an oath just like everyone else on board this ship. It's time to make good on that oath, especially if you don't want to die!"
Rhyska shook off his hold and pulled a security spike from her cuff and began splicing the door, even as Trask continued. "Not sure why the Republic thought that someone with your shady past would work with the Fleet, but I guess they figured that if they couldn't catch you, they might as well hire you. Desperate times call for desperate measures..."
"Who's desperate? And what do you mean my shady past?" Rhyska narrowed her eyes and pointed at the door with her security spike. "You want me to open this door or not?"
Trask nodded. "I'm just saying that no matter what your reasons for signing on with the Fleet, you're one of us now and Bastila needs us."
The door slid open and Rhyska unhooked her vibroblade. "All right already! I get it! Find Bastila. Let's just get to it before somebody ventilates us."
She was just about to step through when blaster fire erupted in flashes of red lights up and down the hallway. There were Sith and Republic soldiers on opposing sides firing on one another. Trask pulled her behind him and readied his blaster. Rhyska hoped he was a good shot, because it hadn't taken long for the three poor suckers wearing the red and gold Republic uniform to fall.
Trask bellowed, "For the Republic!" before jumping out into the middle of the hall and began to blast at the Sith. Rhyska shook her head and followed.
It took a moment for the Sith to realize that Trask was not alone, but by then it was too late. Rhyska dodged and weaved around the blaster bolts and brought her vibroblade up, slashing downwards. The blade caught one Sith in the neck and ripped down across his chest, cutting through fabric before stopping at the bronze plate. Blood rushed out from the tear in his neck as he fell to the deck and twitched. Trask took out the other Sith with a few well placed blaster bolts and smiled at her grimly.
"Just one thing," Rhyska said as she pointed her vibroblade at him. "No more battle cries. If the ship is going down, we really don't need to inform people we're still here. Let's just kill them before the spot us, all right?"
Trask grinned at her and said, "Yes, ma'am!"
And with that they were off and running. They cut and blasted their way to the bridge. Trask stopped just long enough to allow Rhyska to relieve the dead of their unused medpacs, spare parts, and computer spikes. He didn't say anything when she stripped the dead of their blasters, vibroblades, grenades, and armor. She didn't inform him anytime she found spare credits. They were almost to the bridge when a voice roared from their com units and attracted unwanted Sith attention.
Rhyska threw a frag grenade at a cluster of Sith and watched them crumple as the grenade exploded into a volley of shrapnel, slicing into their bodies and shredding them. Trask listened to the voice, the way a drowning man clung to a life raft.
A warm tenor voice called out on the com, "This is Carth Onasi, the Sith are threatening to overrun our position. We can't hold out long against their fire power. All hands to the bridge!"
Trask looked like he'd just been sucker punched. His blue eyes were wide and he ran a free hand through his sweat soaked blonde hair, as he took in the information Carth hadn't yet said aloud. We are losing.
He looked at Rhyska who had just finished pilfering salvageable items from the bodies around her. "The man on our com unit is one of the fleet's best pilots. Carth Onasi, a war hero from the Mandalorian Wars." After a moment's hesitation, a tight, grim smile worked it's way across Trask's face. "When he says it's bad, you better believe it."
His head hung a little and for a moment he seemed defeated, but then he looked up at her and flashed her a shaky smile. "Come on. We need to get to the bridge to help defend Bastila."
Rhyska matched him grin for grin. "Then let's move it, mister."
They fought their way down a few more corridors before Rhyska spliced through a locked door. As the doors slid open they found two figures spiraling and cutting at one another with blades of light. A pale man shrouded in the robes of a dark Jedi and small, frail looking woman dressed in the robes of the light.
"It's a dark Jedi!" Trask exclaimed. "Let's hang back. We don't want to get in the middle in this action, might lose something." Rhyska wasn't going argue his point. She preferred her limbs the way they were, attached to the rest of her body.
So they watched as light and dark battled for an edge. Parrying and blocking, thrusting and feinting, dancing around each other until an opening presented itself. Rhyska broke the two of them down in her mind. The dark Jedi was strength and brute force. He lacked finesse and had yet to master the art of dueling. The woman seemed to suffer the same lack of training, but what she lacked in knowledge and strength, she made up for with speed and agility.
Before the dark Jedi could counter the female Jedi's oncoming stroke, she feinted and whipped her blade around neatly severing his head from his neck. His head toppled off of his neck as his corpse sank to the floor. The Jedi let go of the breath she had been holding. Dropping her head back, she breathed in deeply. Beside Rhyska, Trask grinned and pumped his fist in the air as he whooped and hollered, "Yeah!"
The exhausted Jedi turned to them slowly. A tiny smile was blossoming on her face when suddenly, the conduit behind her exploded in a burst of heat and light. A volatile amount of electricity engulfed the already bone weary Jedi, stealing her victory and leaving her slumped over the form of the Sith she had just vanquished.
Trask was deathly silent as he tried to process what had just happened.
Rhyska shook her head and said to no one in particular, "Well, that was messed up!"
Waking up from his reverie, Trask cursed, "Damn! That was one of the Jedi accompanying Bastila. We could have used her help!"
"Operative words being could have," Rhyska said dryly. She looked at Trask who looked back at her with narrowed eyes. She gestured towards some doors with her vibroblade and began walking. "Come on, the bridge isn't far now."
They battled their way to the bridge and found that the Sith were already there. A small skirmish was happening at the central command station, but two troopers hanging back from the fight caught sight of Trask and Rhyska first.
A massive explosion rocked the command station as Rhyska drove back the trooper with a flurry of movement. She raised her blade and brought it down on him. He blocked it and tried to push her back. Snapping her foot out, Rhyska delivered a sharp kick to his sternum and drove her vibroblade into the soft material between the plates of the trooper's bronzed armor. As she withdrew her blade, the trooper slid to the floor with a keening moan.
Rhyska turned her attention to Trask, who was fending off a vibroblade attack with a blaster. Coming up behind the Sith, she cut into him with deft strokes, distracting him from Trask, who ended the Sith's short life with a blaster shot to the face.
Trask injected himself with kolto from a medpack and muttered with relief, "Thanks for that."
"Any time," Rhyska answered back as she took out one of her salvaged medpacks and took care of business. A quick scan around the room assured Rhyska that they were the only people left alive on the bridge. None of the personnel that were in the fight by the console had made it. As a matter of fact, thanks to the help of several frag grenades, there were pieces of soldiers, both Sith and Republic, everywhere.
Rhyska grimaced. Her eyes stung from the heat of the smoldering corpses and consoles, scanning for any trace of Trask's Jedi. All she got was an unbearable whiff of cooked flesh and the desire to retch.
"Bastila's not here on the bridge," Trask said as he checked over the corpses nearby. "They must have retreated to the escape pods. We better head that way, too."
Rhyska shot him a pointed look and replied sarcastically, "You think?"
Trask shook his head and made his way to the other door on the bridge. "You don't understand! The Sith want Bastila alive. If they figure out she's not on the ship, they're gonna blast the Endar Spire into galactic space dust!"
Rhyska's brown eyes grew wide and she hollered, "What are we standing here for then? Let's get the hell outta here!"
She followed Trask out of the bridge and into yet another corridor. Rhyska had begun splicing a door on the right as Trask kept an eye open for Sith troopers.
A rustle of movement caught Trask's attention. Following the sounds to a sealed door on the opposite end of the hallway, he leaned in close and listened, making out footsteps. Frowning, he turned to Rhyska and whispered, "Hey, there's someone behind this door!"
The door Rhyska had been working on finally slid open and she waved him over. "Come on, you don't know who's behind there. Leave it."
He eyed her irritably and snapped, "It could be Bastila on the other side or another Republic soldier."
"Yeah, and I can think of all the other things it could be, too," Rhyska said uneasily.
Ignoring her sarcastic remark, Trask touched the door and jumped back in alarm as the door's locking mechanism disabled with a click. It slid open revealing a menacing figure dressed in the robes of a dark Jedi, a ruby red lightsaber thrumming in his grip.
Trask saw Rhyska from the corner of his eye. She gripped her vibroblade and moved slowly towards the enemy.
The dark Jedi smiled maliciously and dropped into an offensive fighting stance. Time stopped for Trask Ulgo then. In his mind's eye, a pair of stormy blue eyes belonging to the woman the Republic called their last hope, beseeched him. It is imperative that she escape!
"Damn it all," Trask said, cursing his luck. He fired on the dark Jedi and moved into the room forcing the Sith to alternately move back and deflect the blaster shots with his lightsaber. "I'll try to hold him off. You get to the escape pods!"
Rhyska screamed, "Trask?! What the hell are you doing?!"
Trask disappeared behind the sliding doors as Rhyska came running towards him. Rhyska smacked her vibroblade against the doors and then tried splicing it. The distinct sound of blaster fire on the security mechanism on the other side of the door blocked any attempt at getting to him. Rhyska heard the unmistakable sound of a lightsaber whizzing through the air and a short abrupt cry that made her heartbeat falter.
With a frustrated howl she slammed her fist into the door and then ran for the escape pods. There were a few brief moments back there when she was certain they were going to make it. Then Trask had to go on and get all manly. What in blazes made him do a thing like that? she wondered furiously.
She had come to a corridor that was two rooms away from the escape pods when Carth's voice erupted loudly from the com unit. "Crewman, this is Carth Onasi. I've got your position on the Endar Spires' life support system. We're the last two fleet members onboard, Bastila and everyone else have already jumped ship and the Sith know it. I don't know how much longer I'll be able to wait. You need to double-time it to the escape pods. Now!"
Rhyska hissed into her com, "Shut up! Are you trying to get me killed?"
She received nothing but static from the other end, but too late. A Sith trooper heard noise coming from her general direction and headed her way.
Rhyska switched on her stealth unit and waited the few steps it took for the trooper to get close enough to her. She slowly closed in the distance between them as her stealth unit gave out. With one smooth motion, she slashed her vibroblade across his neck and kept on moving, not bothering to watch him to crumple onto the floor.
Two more Sith appeared from around the corner. Rhyska tossed a frag grenade at them, killing one and mortally wounding the other. She finished him off with a few strokes of her blade and then spliced into the door beyond. Two Sith troopers stood at attention with their blasters. Frustrated with the never ending line of Sith that stood between her and freedom, she tossed her last two frag grenades at their feet and ducked for cover.
As she walked into the room, Carth interjected a little information Rhyska's way. "Not that I'm trying to get you killed or anything," he muttered sarcastically, "but there's about a half a dozen Sith behind that door. You might want to think about thinning them out."
Rhyska shot a dirty look at the camera in the corner of the room as she raided the footlocker and canister before quickly searching the fallen Sith.
"Some time today would be nice," Carth said impatiently over the com unit as she began splicing into the computer terminal by the door.
Using up all but two of the computer spikes she'd collected, Rhyska overloaded a power conduit in the room, killing all of the Sith troopers. Splicing through the door, she stopped briefly to relieve the dead of what little they left behind, including their indestructible credits and much needed medpacks.
Another hit rocked the ship as she spliced through the final door. As it slid open, Rhyska came face to face with the Republic hero Trask spoke so highly of. Carth Onasi, the man behind the voice. Surprisingly, Rhyska found that he was quite attractive.
Whatever irritation he had felt before seemed to have dissipated. Sounding quite relieved, he said, "You made it! I was worried that the last blow to the ship was gonna knock out the power grid to the escape pods, but they're still a few active ones left. Come on, we have to get off the Spire. She can't take another hit like that."
His words washed over Rhyska who took the opportunity to study him while he prattled on. He looked like he had about eight to ten years on her, but he wore it quite well. He was dressed like a civilian, wearing black slacks and a rather eye catching orange jacket. Despite all that, she could tell he was physically fit and lean. His face was ruggedly handsome, his hair something of an uncooperative auburn mess, and his eyes were a warm brown. He had a scruffy sort of quality about him. Even so, Rhyska decided that the five o'clock shadow worked the scruffy angle in his favor. Still, she couldn't quite bring herself to believe that the stick in the mud, disembodied voice belonged to the same man standing before her. "Who are you again?"
A note of impatience and irritation colored his tone as he explained, "We don't have time for this. The Sith are retreating, that can only mean they're gonna take out the ship and I don't want to be here when she goes. So how about we put some distance between us and the big bang, alright?"
Not waiting for her to move, Carth grabbed Rhyska by the hand and steered her towards the waiting escape pod.
"Hey," Rhyska said uneasily as she looked around the pod. "There's only room for one in here!"
"Yeah, well," Carth said dryly as he pushed her in. The inside of the pod was like the inside of a small fighter ship. Though it offered up a tad more room, it was without weapons and substantial control. A seat was in the middle of the vessel close to some controls. Not knowing what else to do, Rhyska moved away from the console and up as close to the wall of the pod as she could get, while Carth lowered himself down.
"We aren't going to be floating in space. We're going down to Taris so oxygen levels won't be an issue," he assured her as he sealed off the entrance. Strapping himself into the chair he punched in a set of sequences and some co-ordinates.
Rhyska leaned over to watch what he was doing when the escape pod suddenly lurched and shot out from the Endar Spire. Rhyska yelped as she fell back against the small space between the chair and the pod wall as the pod accelerated for entry into the planet's atmosphere.
Carth's hand shot out and grabbed her by the wrist. He pulled her across his lap, even as Rhyska tried to push away. "Oh! For crying out loud! Lady! I am not trying to feel you up, but if you don't hold on to me before we crash into the planet, you are going to bounce around this pod like a mynock in a crater worm's belly!"
Rhyska shot him a quelling look, but when the proximity alarm starting going off inside the pod, she quickly wrapped her arms around his neck and held on for dear life.
As Carth wrapped his arms around her waist, two thoughts crossed his mind just before the pod touched down onto the planet with a bone crushing thud. The first was that the woman in his arms was going to cause him an endless parade of headaches, of that there was no doubt. The second thought that meandered through his mind was the one that bothered him the most. He found it oddly disturbing that for a woman who was drenched in the sweat of battle and the blood of others, she smelled strangely intoxicating. He squeezed her tightly to him and breathed in the scent of her hair once deeply before the world blacked out and the pod descended on the city below.
When he had finally regained consciousness, Carth's eyes flew open at the sound of the proximity alarm, thankfully obnoxious enough to wake him up from crash. Shaking his head to clear out the mess and the pain, he realized that there was a warm weight pressed against him in the pod and remembered the woman from the Spire. She was draped across his lap and completely still.
Not a good sign, Carth thought as he gently supported her head and shifted her into a sitting position. He held her against him with one arm and switched the alarms on the pod off with the other. He tapped the release button for his seat straps as he looked her over. Whoever she was, she was still breathing, even if it was a bit shallow. She didn't seem terribly damaged except for what could be described as a fantastic blow to the back of her head, but he wasn't a doctor. I hope she doesn't have any internal injuries. Can't fix that on the fly.
Carth knew he that she needed some kolto injections, but she didn't seem to be in danger of dying on him just yet. Her health would have to wait just a little bit longer. They had to get out of the pod first.
He set her carefully down on the floor and unsealed the hatch. A quick scan outside told him that they were protected by the cover of night. That was one point in their favor. The second was that he must have regained consciousness right after the crash. No one was here yet, but that would change.
Carth grabbed the small pack she carried with her and tossed it on the ground along with her vibroblade. He maneuvered her back into his arms and lowered her carefully, feet first out of the hatch. He tried to avoid sliding her against the hot metal of the pod, but was more concerned with dropping her on her head.
As he landed on the permacrete of Upper City Taris, he could see in lights in the distance. Coming to investigate the crash, no doubt.
Hooking her vibroblade into his belt, Carth slung her pack over his shoulder, and scooped her up. Silently, he headed for the nearest building.
Author Note:
Yes, yes. I've been tinkering with the first chapter again. I can't seem to stop myself. As always, big thanks to BrynNevan and Vaguely Familiar for all their beta reading. I don't think I could ever have come this far without their help. To the wonderful people who constantly give me feedback, you are so awesome! Feel free to flame or praise, as the mood suits you. Constructive, of course. Let me know how I'm doing.