The Necessary Evil

by Ana-Christina

Yes, a retelling of the game. Has: grammar&punctuation, length, sarcasm, focus on other KotOR characters, LSF Revan. Doesn't have: character bashing, the beautiful, perky, heroic, loved by everyone PC who does all the quests & outshines everyone else.

1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer & A/N: No ownership, profit and / or disrespect intended from my part. The plot and characters from Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic were created by and belong to BioWare and LucasArts, so everything that sounds familiar is theirs. What doesn't, including the occasional typo, is entirely mine. If you spot any mistake, please point it out to me so that I can correct it. I love any kind of feedback, as most of us do, I am sure. :)

Chapter 1 - In Which Lady Luck Tends to Other Mortals

When Carth Onasi entered Admiral Dodonna's office, he noticed the faint trace of something suspiciously similar to relief in her eyes. As he covered the short distance between the door and the desk in a couple of long strides, he wondered if, in spite of his many years of service in the Republic Fleet, she had doubted that he would come. After all, it was not like he had not entertained the idea - even if only for a short while - in the aftermath of the rather sudden way in which they had revoked his command of the ship Valiant and their lack of any kind of explanation for the gesture.

There was a time when he would have put his precious blaster at stake on the fact that his reliability and willingness to serve the Republic were as solid and permanent as the ancient tombs on Korriban. Four years after the massacre at Telos and less than a fortnight after his reluctant hand-over of the Valiant's command, he did not feel so sure any more. Not that his loyalty was in any way less firm than what it used to be, no; but he felt more and more aware of how he now continued primarily because he was just going through the motions, subtle flickers of warm light having replaced the fierce, blazing, almost frightening love for the Republic that used to animate him.

'I am delighted to see you, Carth.'

He smiled, but he did not let it reach his eyes. 'As am I, Admiral.'

'Please, have a seat. There is a matter of utmost importance that we must discuss.' As he sat down in the chair in front of her, she continued to talk in a warm voice: 'First of all, I want you to understand that what has happened with the Valiant is in no way a reprimand for your performance. Indeed, it is quite the opposite. Captain Tovar was ready to be promoted, and given the... recent developments, we've thought it was more crucial to assign you to a post in which you could make more of a difference for our war against the Sith than you could in the Captain's chair on the Valiant.'

Carth, who had been more or less convinced that his summoning in the Admiral's office was bound to end in his reassignment to a remote outpost at the Republic's periphery, snapped out of his apathy. 'Well, this is not exactly what I was expecting to hear, Admiral, considering the circumstances of my relief from command. To be honest, I am very curious to find out what could be more important than fighting the Sith fleet with all our forces.'

'I am glad you asked, actually.' She put down the pencil that she was absently rotating between her thumb and forefinger and looked straight at him. 'You see, we've been recently contacted by two of the members of the Jedi Council from Dantooine, who were quite... er... insistent about their need for one of our ships. They requested the Endar Spire, which, as you know, is one of our newest Hammerhead-class cruisers and also has a more than decent fighting capability. They additionally requested a contingent of Republic soldiers to accompany a group of their own Jedi, led by the famous Bastila Shan. They told me that they could not offer any explanations beyond the fact that all this is supposed to aid them in their mission to save the galaxy from the Sith threat. Well, that and the usual "Trust in the Force" speech.'

'I understand, Admiral.' But he didn't; not really, anyway. In particular, he couldn't understand why the Admiral thought that he was in any way interested in the Jedi's usual plots and machinations.

'That's where you come in', she added, as if she was reading his mind. 'I want you to accompany Bastila's Jedi team.'

Carth's left eyebrow raised in disbelief, and his mouth started to speak before he could talk some sense into it: 'Admiral, do you honestly think that my babysitting a bunch of Jedi and trying to squeeze information out of their usual secretive selves will help the Republic war effort more than my being on the front lines, where I belong? With all due respect, that doesn't sound very likely.'

Contrary to his expectation, the Admiral sighed and gave him a sympathetic look, as opposed to the more natural - and perhaps deserved - snappy words he had anticipated as a reaction to his blatant questioning of her decisions. 'The Jedi Council members sounded both agitated and really serious. It seemed to me that they had good reasons behind their requests, even if they did not want to explain them. In point of fact, the last time we shared such a contact with them was soon after Revan and Malak's fall to the Dark Side. I want you to go onboard the Endar Spire with Bastila's team as an advisor. After all, no matter how important it is for the Republic to have a trusted person like you keep an eye on the Jedi, there's also the issue of Bastila's... er, lack of actual experience as a Fleet Commander. Despite her immense skill with Battle Meditation and her crucial relevance in this war, she is still very young and rather prone to make mistakes in her command of anything larger than a group of two Padawans, for influencing minds via the Force is no guarantee of leadership skills. So I want you to be there to help her, in case she needs you.'

Seeing as her reply was such a sincere argumentative plea, instead of the rant he had imagined he'd get, he felt touched that their longstanding friendship seemed to actually account for something. Carth remained silent as he considered his options. He loved the Valiant and its crew. He thoroughly enjoyed using the ship both to help the Republic against the neverending Sith war machine and to secretly try to pursue his personal quest for revenge against one certain Sith. However, he knew that a Captain once relieved of command would never get it back on the same ship, as the Fleet tried as much as possible to avoid the stress on the respective crew and the horrible amount of paperwork, which, unfortunately, such a reshuffle almost always caused. He could hope to get a new ship, but that was not likely in light of the Admiral's plans for him.

When all was said and done, Carth still felt like a loyal soldier with a fully developed sense of duty. More than anything, he wanted to help save the galaxy from Malak's threat, and he could see that right now his best chance to do so so was to accept the Admiral's offer. Or order, as he liked to think of it. 'Very well, Admiral. I'll join the Endar Spire as an advisor for Bastila Shan.' He smiled a genuine smile. After all, how hard could it be to guard, advise and report on a group of Jedi?

***

Only two weeks had passed before Carth Onasi, standing in his quarters, felt seriously tempted to reach across the time dimensions and punch his way too optimistic past self right in his smiling face.

The Endar Spire was not a beautiful star ship, no. True, she was fully functional, and she had quite the array of the most modern technology the Republic could offer, but she was still not what Carth would have called a ship to fall in love with. Perhaps at fault was how the Admiral had relieved him of the Valiant's command in favour of the more ambiguous position of advisor onboard the Endar Spire. Or perhaps it was the way in which the Jedi and their staff who had come onboard had demanded so many things, as a result of some unfathomable rationale he could not follow; like the lack of logic in that scout's transfer - a time and effort consuming journey to pick up someone who seemed to have nothing to do with the war between the Republic and the Sith. Or perhaps Bastila's idea of leadership was so antagonising that he grew to project his irritation with her on the innocent ship that contained her. Then again, maybe what really annoyed him and made him wish he could grab one of them by their flowing robes and shake until some answers deigned to leave their mouths was their utter indifference and downright refusal to give him even the smallest hint about the nature of their mission.

He frowned and stared at the view on the screen in front of him. The endless stream of distant stars had always functioned as a soothing sight for him. And if there was one thing he definitely needed right now, it was calm. As much serenity as possible; otherwise, he was pretty damn sure that he'd soon come to exercise his duties as an advisor by locking Bastila Shan into her bunk and not releasing her until she gave him a couple of much needed answers. After all, as far as he was concerned, the reality was that he could carry out his orders and perform his duty only by being fully aware of what was going on.

His chain of thoughts was brusquely interrupted by the flicker of movement that his eyes had detected on the view screen, near the ship's port section. It took him less than a second to snap out of his introspective stance and quickly investigate the source of movement. His fingers moved in a blur over the computer interface in front of him, as he activated the ship's main sensors to determine what was going on. The flow of data from them made him flinch: a squadron of Sith fighters were rapidly assuming the necessary attack position to penetrate the ship defences, apparently without having experienced any difficulties in their approach.

Carth's many years of active service for the Republic helped him instantly analyse and consequently extrapolate the most likely course of events in light of the current information. It became pretty obvious to him that such a small squadron of fighters was bound to have a much larger number of ships and soldiers behind it, and the invading enemies would soon overwhelm the Endar Spire and its crew. Whether a magnetic anomaly, or good old fashioned sabotage, or something else had hidden their presence from the sensors until it was too late was irrelevant now that the ambush was happening. He sounded the alarm and proceeded to make his way to the bridge just as the enemy issued the first order to open fire.

***

Ready to answer the Jedi Masters' request for an audience with her, Bastila Shan took a deep breath and started to make her way towards the Council's chambers. When she heard their voices apparently making no attempt to hide themselves, she hesitated and stopped in front of the door, wondering if she should go in.

'Are you sure this is wise, Master Vandar?' Vrook's worried eyes skimmed through the datapad in front of him. He scowled and gestured with it. 'It seems to me that - using a very questionable basis like "necessary evils" - we risk more than we could afford in this war.'

'Life is too complex to ever be sure about anything. But Bastila is correct when she says that we have no other choice: we must proceed as planned, lest we would rather Malak's reign of terror continue undisturbed. We did everything in our power to aid her in this dangerous and inevitable quest.'

'I agree that it seems to be inevitable, and, quite frankly, even I fail to see another choice. However, sending a Jedi Master with her would surely help rather than hinder her, wouldn't it? I mean, the lure of the Dark Side exerts enough of a strain on her as it is, and -'

'A mere Jedi Master's presence would not block or even obscure that of which you speak, Master Vrook. Our efforts are better spent on Dantooine, training the young Padawans, whose numbers dwindle each day. Would you not agree, Bastila?'

'Forgive me, I did not intend to eavesdrop, Master Vandar', she said as she stepped into the room. 'I was merely waiting for the appropriate moment to announce my presence to the Council. Is everything prepared, then?'

'Yes, even if one cannot ever fully prepare for all the possible outcomes in a situation such as this one. The Republic has granted us access to the Endar Spire; the ship, along with a modest regiment of Republic personnel, will arrive in a a day, at most. Among them, the Republic war hero Carth Onasi has offered to act as your advisor.'

'My advisor?' When all four of them looked at her in understanding, she hoped that the Jedi Masters had perceived her shock so easily because they were - well, Jedi Masters, not because she was transparent in any way.

'Indeed. Admiral Dodonna has made all the necessary arrangements for him to come onboard the Endar Spire.'

'I have heard of him. I am, however, rather... surprised to learn that the Council deems the presence of such a well known pilot as acceptable in the circumstances of our mission. I thought utmost discretion was the top priority.'

'And that has not changed. Carth Onasi may be a familiar figure throughout the Republic officials and some of its citizens, but, due to the fact that his main activity was during the Mandalorian wars, the Sith remain quite oblivious to his existence. The Force is strong within you, Bastila, but you are young and inexperienced still. His expertise and skills will prove to be most useful for our mission, I am sure.'

'Very well. I trust in the wisdom of the Jedi Masters, Master Vandar.' Bastila bowed her head slightly. She determinedly ignored the nagging sensation that seldom things went as planned.

'The five Jedi who will accompany you in this mission are making the final preparations for your departure. We regret that we cannot send a larger number of members of the Order, but the sad reality is that, even if we had the numbers to afford it, our desire for secrecy would prevent the possibility in question. They do not know all the details, but they do know all that is necessary for them to carry out their orders. Together with them and the Republic crew who is already onboard the Endar Spire, you will take the ship and head towards Omwat's orbit, where, two weeks from now, your... subordinate will await for the Endar Spire to pick her up from the ship she is currently on. By the time you meet her, she'll have just finished her mission of exploration on that planet, and you'll arrive just in time to request her transfer on the Endar Spire, under your command.'

'Has there been any intelligence regarding the outcome of our... intervention?'

'Not that I know of, Master Dorak. In these extreme circumstances, we should assume that no news is good news. Unless Bastila can tell us otherwise...?'

'I have not felt anything for the past two months. The distance could play a role, of course, but I believe that anything out of the ordinary would have created some sort of effect.'

'I see.' Master Vrook frowned and returned his gaze to the datapad in front of him, while he continued to speak. 'I do not enjoy being in the dark, so I feel very troubled by this situation.'

'I believe we all do. Even so, we are past the point of no return. There are hardly any ways for us to retreat now.' As she watched how he continued to stare at his datapad, Bastila felt a small non-Jedi temptation to snatch it off his hands and see what was so bloody fascinating about it. She folded her arms instead.

'Yes, I believe you have made this point quite a few times already. You are most persuasive with it, I have to admit. Nevertheless,' he continued, addressing the other Jedi Masters, 'I trust that the plan to return to Dantooine as soon as Bastila picks up her subordinate is still in effect?'

'Of course. When Bastila arrives, she will give us a complete report of the situation, and we stand ready to act accordingly, as per the new information. By then, the clues that we hope for will have started to manifest themselves. I only wish that any surprises we might come across will be pleasant', added the Twilek Jedi Master, who had remained silent until that moment.

'So do we, Master Zhar. So do we. The path we have chosen to walk seems to be a convoluted one, and we ask Bastila to undertake a great number of risks, in spite of how vital she is for our war against the Sith menace. Still, we must all trust that the Force will be with us.'

***

'Have you felt that? It was a disturbance in the Force. Something is happening!'

Two Jedi in green coloured robes rushed to the agitated brunette's desk. 'We've felt something, too. Are you all right, Bastila? Your skin is very pale.'

'No, I am not all right. Something terrible is going to happen very soon. Find the other Jedi and get to the bridge. This ship will need all the defence it can get. The Sith are coming.' As she finished speaking, the alarm sounded, and the first effects of the enemy laser cannons shook the walls and floor.

'We can't just leave you here. You're the Republic's best hope for a victory; without you, they stand no chance against Malak's fleet. We have to get you to the escape pods. Come!' That said, one of the Jedi approached Bastila and tried to get her off the chair she was in.

'No.' Bastila moved away from the Jedi's hand. 'I must remain here. It is vital that our passenger and as many members of the crew as possible survive this attack. My Battle Meditation will provide us with the precious time we need. I'll seal the door from within once you're gone.'

'That won't provide much help against an entire squadron of Sith and Dark Jedi determined to capture you.'

'There won't be any need for it. I promise I'll head towards the escape pods as soon as I am sure that I have done everything in my power to achieve a somewhat positive result in such circumstances. Be sensible: I'm sure you can feel them coming, too, and you know that their numbers are huge. Now go and do not argue my orders any more.'

She watched the other two Jedi as they exchanged a sympathetic look; she hoped they were fully aware that there existed no way for them to persuade her out of something she felt so determined to do. They nodded slightly and exited her quarters to carry out her dispositions. As soon as they were out, Bastila activated her personal communicator. To her frustration, she couldn't reach Carth on his own device.

She snorted; she was pretty sure that in the aftermath of their most recent... discussion from opposite sides of the ship via comm links - she still hesitated to call it for the shouting match that it was - he did not have the time or the inclination to replace the broken communicator after he had smashed it on his room's wall a couple of hours ago. At least, she thought he had destroyed it; she could think of no other way to explain the static she had received at the end of their exchange. 'Such an unreasonable man, really. I thought that my request for a glass of blue milk warmed at room's temperature at the end of our discussion was obviously a diplomatic and subtle way to remind him that his only justified interest in my mission should be in following my orders and tending to my requests. But no, he has to meddle everywhere as if it was his right to do so...' As her mind raced in recollection of the recent, most distressing conversation with Carth Onasi, Bastila finally managed to focus enough to get in contact with the only other person onboard to whom she could appeal.

'This is Bastila Shan. Ensign Ulgo, please come immediately to my quarters. Yes, I know we are under attack', she replied in a miffed voice to the ensign's comment, 'that's why I need you to be here five minutes ago. Bastila out.' She activated her personal computer and accessed the ship's main view screen for a tactical display of the enemy forces in relation to the Endar Spire. Pacing before it and reciting the Jedi code, she calmly did her best to see what options to aid the ship against the Sith ambush she had. The door opened.

'What took you so long? Wait, that was a rhetorical question', she interrupted him before he had the chance to answer her. 'The members of my Jedi escort are on their way to the bridge, to help protect the Endar Spire against the attackers. I need someone I can trust to go to the scout whose transfer I requested a couple of days ago. She works the opposite shift from you, so it's quite likely that you'll find her in your common bunk. If that doesn't work, use this access code to track her via the ship's life support systems.' She handed one of the datapads on her desk to him. 'Find her and make sure she gets to the escape pods as soon as possible. Yes, what is it?'

Although he seemed to be slightly taken aback that she could anticipate his question before he had even finished thinking of it, Trask Ulgo stared at her and told her exactly what was on his mind. 'She's a scout. She should be able to take care of herself. My main duty is towards the Endar Spire and its crew. I can be more useful guarding the ship from the invaders than acting as an improvised escort like you want me to.'

'What? Unbelievable! Does no one here obey orders from their commanding officers without cheeky comments?' Bastila sighed; she was tired, and anger was creeping around her like a velvet cloak, inviting her to just give in. She could have easily used the Force on him, and that would have saved her a lot of time and trouble. But the voices of her Masters scolded her in her mind for merely entertaining such dangerous thoughts, which could so easily lead to the Dark Side. So she tried to do it the hard way. 'The scout's survival is a key piece in our war against Malak. If she dies, we will join her in a couple of months, or, even worse, some of us will be brainwashed into servitude for the Sith empire. You do not want that to come to pass, do you?' She hated to beg, but she was also desperate. 'Please, do as I say. I cannot reach Carth Onasi on his personal communicator, I have sent my entire Jedi team to the bridge to intercept the Sith who are about to board the ship, and I must use my Battle Meditation for whatever little good it can do in these circumstances. You're my only hope.'

When his shoulders straightened and determination flickered in his eyes, she knew that she had convinced him. After all, how could he not agree with her, considering that a simple look in her now almost panicked eyes, who were deliberately not trying to hide the emotions reflected in them, should be more than enough for anyone to outline the grave situation they were in? 'Very well. I'll go and find her. But when I do, we'll come back for you, and we'll get together to the escape pods.' He nodded briskly and turned to leave.

'I will probably be on the bridge, as it will probably be easier for me to use my Battle Meditation from there.' She cringed as she tried to tell herself that it was not technically a lie, just a small... dance around the truth; after all, there was no harm in talking about probabilities, right? And it was all for the greater good because asking them to do a detour all the way back to her quarters was selfish and stupid, and surely Carth would most certainly be on the bridge, and he would get them all to the escape pods. She trusted that the Force will find a way for her to escape as well, if that was its will.

She snapped out of her thoughts when she noticed that Trask was staring at her with concern. 'Thank you. May the Force be with you!' She looked after him as he exited her quarters. A horrible feeling at the back of her head told her it was the last time she was seeing him. Refusing to let herself fall prey to the desperation at the bottom of her conscience, which was by now fervently demanding to be allowed a vote on the issue as well, Bastila dispassionately locked the door to her room from the inside. She then kneeled before the tridimensional map in front of her and prepared to use her Battle Meditation.

***

'I do not want to do this any more. Why must you torture me so?' Her voice trembled with the whiny tones of a petulant child, but by now Gavin knew better than to give in to the exasperation that the Voice filled him with, for he knew she was doing it on purpose.

'You need these skills if you intend to be anything other than a corpse upon your next meeting with hostile alien species. Now please focus. Left -' He was interrupted by her eyes rolling so hard that he was surprised they didn't fall out of their sockets. 'Yes?', he drawled, mentally counting to ten.

'I will not be a freaking corpse upon my next first contact with an alien species, probably because they will not react with hostility to my presence', she declared, flourishing her vibroblade at a dangerous distance from his heart. Normally, he'd have been pleased with her progress with the blade, except for the fact that he was pretty sure that she did not intend to penetrate his defence with that move; she just did it out of instinct, instead of actual proficiency.

Gavin tried to be patient; he really tried. He was a good man, and he had only the best intentions in carrying out the tasks he had been assigned with. But some things were just too much. With a sigh, he sheathed his own vibroblade and tried to play it her way, with the hope of somehow getting to her in spite of her stubbornness via sheer force of patience. 'And why are you so sure, lady? It's not like I have, I don't know, twenty years of experience over you.' He knew she had won the mental duel of wills when she smirked at his mentioning her age.

'Ah, sophistry. I shall ignore it with dignity and instead satisfy your understandable thirst for knowledge.' Her arrogance was beyond belief, but he sighed and allowed her to continue only because he knew from experience that simply ignoring her would not get him anywhere closer to progress. There were less than three days left until he was supposed to send his report about her; progress would have been nice and welcome. 'You see, Mr. Anor, the fact of the matter is that your premise for my training is entirely erroneous. You assume that I will be put into dangerous situations that I will not be able to talk my way out of. You are mistaken. As a soon to be officially hired by the Republic scout, with years of unofficial field experience in computer hacking, demolitions, droid maintenance, and diplomacy, I am pretty damn sure I can bloody well face the next years of my life not fighting anything I do not wish to fight. I will, indeed, explore uncharted territories and places no one has seen before, but I will never need to sully myself in despicable brawling.'

He couldn't believe his ears. Surely she was smart enough to realise that not every situation allowed for a peaceful resolution? Then again, arrogance and intelligence did not always make a good combination. 'But, Livia, what about those encounters in which persuasive abilities will not be enough to let you get along with an enemy intent on brutally skewering you?'

'You do not have to be gross about it, you know', she shuddered. 'To answer your question: I shall just use a blaster, like I did all my life. No need to get up, close and personal, especially not when I could hire some mercenaries specifically for this type of occurrences.' Livia Regana smiled the genuine smile of someone who was very proud to have an occasion in which to state the obvious as some sort of revelation worthy of bows and curtsies; Gavin's inner counting had just reached 73.

'There are - and there will always be - cases in which a blaster would rather hinder you than help you. Try shooting a blaster at a rancor and see how far that gets you before it brings you to its mate as an anniversary dinner dish. And there will most definitely be cases in which you will not have the luxury to hire mercenaries to fight your battles for you. It is typical for a scout to learn how to survive in any kind of dangerous circumstances, and it has come to the attention of the Republic that combat in close quarters is something that your training apparently did not include so far. The Republic does want to hire you and send you to Omwat, but they won't do so unless I tell them you're ready at the end of this week. No', he continued, raising his hand in an attempt to stop her next diatribe, 'I will have no more of this. Raise your weapon and defend yourself, lest you want me to report to them that you will never suffice as a decent professional in their service.'

'You would not.'

It was his turn to smirk. 'I most certainly will. It's been fun, if one's idea of fun includes pointless bickering with a spoiled brat, but now we will get back to the business at hand. They do not pay me well enough to tolerate such outbursts of insanity, and no abuse of pleading kinrath puppy eyes will make me change my mind or give up on the training. Your record so far has been good enough for the Republic to grow an interest into acquiring your skills in its service. However, if you want to be a scout for them, you will learn to defend yourself in hand-to-hand combat, or you'll spend the rest of your career either continuing your unreliable, risky, unofficial missions for whoever has enough trust in you - like you have so far - or in a Republic office, doing dull paperwork, as I'll never tell them you're ready to work for them unless your performance in this class makes me happy.'

'That is just vile, Mr. Anor.' She pouted, but when she assumed her fighting stance, Gavin knew he had made some excellent points. 'It is just that it seems so damn silly to fight like this...' She raised her vibroblade and prepared for his attack. The weapon's balance still felt wrong, so of course she failed to parry his incoming swing and ended up falling on her behind, taking a piece of his training shirt with her. 'See, that is what you get for forcing me to be something I am not', she yelped while trying to maintain her focus in front of his attacks. His image was moving rapidly away from her eyes, and the floor was stirring...

***

Livia woke with a start, her hand still intent on trying to block an attack that did not come. The floor and the bed she was in were definitely shaking. The distant sound of explosions seemed to move closer and closer. The alarms didn't make her feel any better, either. 'Blast it, does no one sleep at normal hours around here?' she wondered as she rose out of bed. She looked around in confusion; weren't the drill sequences supposed to be over by now? When the door opened and a soldier entered her bunk, she inwardly whinged that she did not really wish for the answer to come in the form of a really handsome Republic ensign, who was now unfortunately exposed to her less than perfect chest. Distraught, she tried to get back into bed; perhaps the covers were big enough to make the bad dream go away.

'What are you doing?!' he yelled at her, staring in disbelief, as she was trying to coax the bed into swallowing her whole. 'We've been ambushed by a Sith battle fleet! The Endar Spire is under attack! Hurry up - we don't have much time!' Livia ignored him while her hands frantically searched under the pillow for her special bra. Sith ambush or no, she refused to even attempt an escape without it. She quietly sighed in relief when her hands found what they sought.

'The Endar Spire?' she asked absently, trying to buy herself time while her mind was anxiously attempting to think of a clever, non-obvious way to hide her bra in a safe place, where she'd know where to find it. She crawled out of the bed and towards her footlocker, clutching the bed covers around her as if they were some sort of protective shield, which was all that stood between her life as she knew it and the ensign's shame-inducing acknowledgement of her upper body, which, unfortunately, was at the moment clothed in normal underwear and thus deprived of her favourite bra's special aid. 'I shall definitely remain a spinster if he sees me without it. Just what was I thinking when I decided to place the locker at such a great distance from the bed? Stupid Livia.'

Trask, of course, only replied to the question that she had actually voiced. 'Did you fall out of your bunk and hit your head? The Endar Spire is the ship we're stationed on - this ship! You probably don't even know who I am, do you? I'm Trask Ulgo, ensign with the Republic Fleet. I'm your bunk mate here on the Endar Spire. We work opposite shifts; I guess that's why you haven't seen me before.'

'Um, I do know you, actually. Not that I stared at you during our initial debriefing or anything like that, no. I just noticed you and happened to hear your name.' 'Stop it, you are only making it worse. Also, footlocker and pertinent inquiries to distract him from what you are doing? You might want to get back to them', intervened her pestering inner voice that never let her have any fun. 'Right, Bastila. Who is Bastila?' 'I said "pertinent", not "silly"'.

She silently agreed to the mental sigh inside her head only moments after she had uttered her question, but at the same time, she was cranky and getting increasingly afraid of what was happening to even try to come up with a good excuse for her less than stellar ability to make small talk. He seemed to be oblivious to her internal dialogue, though, so she allowed herself a small smile, hoping that, in spite of daft questions and lack of curves in all the right places, a dinner with Trask in the crew messroom was still a remote possibility for her.

'Bastila's the commanding officer on the Endar Spire. Well, not an officer, really. But she's the one in charge of this mission. One of our primary duties is to guarantee her survival in the event of enemy attack! I heard what everyone's saying about you: you've visited planets I've never even heard of, so it's no wonder the Republic recruited you for this mission. But now's the time to prove yourself! I know you're a scout and not a soldier, but Bastila needs all troops at her side during this attack, and we have to make sure she makes it off the ship alive! So hurry up and grab your gear. You need to suit up so we can get out of here.'

Gobsmacked by his praise, Livia responded without thinking, 'All right. As long as you realise that I am more likely to get you killed than to rescue anyone.' She finally reached her footlocker and stuffed her bra in the small backpack that was just near the surface, next to her Pazaak deck, the draft of her report about Omwat, credits, datapads, computer spikes, assorted grenades and small droid repair parts.

'What's that supposed to mean?' she heard Trask's worried question behind her, while she was trying to put her black trousers and shirt on without attracting too much notice from him.

'Well, just that if you are counting on me to hit trained Sith soldiers with anything other than a blaster, then you might as well...' She stopped, taking into account the effect of what she was about to say. 'So not a good time to be honest about my... er... fighting skills.' She realised there was no time to get into cute excuses about why her abilities in a battle sucked, so she finished the sentence lamely: '... you might as well start to bet that my body kill count will be higher than yours.'

She cursed her lack of common sense again, but fortunately Trask was at the moment preoccupied with trying to open the door to the bunk, which, as a result of the ship being in security lockdown, automatically locked after he had entered her room. She finished dressing, grabbed her blasters, fitted her backpack in its usual place and waited for him to finish what he was doing, valiantly attempting - and failing - not to indulge herself in staring at how his horribly coloured - but beautifully tight - uniform outlined those muscles of his. 'Focus, Livia. Focus.'

'That's done. Did you say anything?' He shrugged at her lack of reply and continued: 'Let's go.'

'If you say so', she whispered, wishing she could sound as confident as he. She fell into position behind him.

***

A burning console exploded in the Endar Spire's Captain's face as Carth opened the door to the bridge. The rest of the crew was in no better shape: out of the entire bridge crew, only ten remained standing, and they were all bruised and tired; many of them looked as if they had lost hope already. Silently apologising to the captain, Carth pushed his body away from the terminal and took his place in front of it. With a few quick moves, he reconnected the intercomm system and used it to summon the maintenance droids from the nearby room to repair the overheated cooling system for the ship's laser cannons. Beeping and whirring, two droids answered the call. They urgently assumed their position in front of the terminal, and their electronic appendages interfaced with it. In less than a couple of minutes, Carth had control over the ship's main weapons again.

Trying his best not to curse in fury as the ship shook again under the Sith's powerful ion blasts, he used the computer to aim one of the Endar Spire's dual laser cannons at the fighters that he could see on the view screen. He did not have time to feel satisfaction from the complete obliteration of the fighters because more of them were coming. A lot more of them. He knew that the deflector shields would not hold much longer. Even worse, the shields could not be of much use because most of the Endar Spire's sensor array severely needed some energy now that the full spectrum transceivers had been damaged. He used one precious second to study the ship's reports on life signs and noticed that one of the sections was completely unpopulated. 'Figures', he thought. It was the sector that the Jedi had requested to use strictly for their training sections. Apparently, they were too busy to train right now.

'Redirect the power from the forward droid maintenance and sector 4D life support sections towards the universal sensor array!' As the bridge crew carried out his orders wordlessly, he inserted a couple of new commands in the terminal in front of him. When the astromech droid onboard quickly rolled towards him, an impatient beeping cacophony surrounding it, Carth instructed it to create a link with one of the ship's lasers and to use it to attack the Sith. He then retook his position in front of the other cannon's controls and resumed fire.

But so did the enemy. A dozen Sith ships gathered into a formation and opened ion fire in the same spot and at the same time. Out of the corner of his eyes, Carth noticed that all the life signs in sectors 4A through 4E had blinked and disappeared as a result. 'There will be time to mourn for them later', he promised himself as he prepared to issue his next order. 'Disable long range communication sensors and life support in 4A through 4E. Redirect the energy towards the deflector shield.' The ensign to his left complied as fast as possible. While he continued to fire on the enemies, Carth hoped that the move will buy them some much needed time.

When some of the Sith ships started to literally fly directly in the range of the laser cannons he was pointing at them, he knew that borrowed time had nothing to do with it, but rather Bastila was using her Battle Meditation. All the annoyance he had previously felt at her behaviour evaporated as he mentally thanked her and her skill with the Force, which continued to aid them and inconvenience the Sith during the battle. He barely spared a look to acknowledge the group of five Jedi when they silently entered the room and stood by his side, watching the screen with the Jedi equivalent of worried looks, ie eyes slightly wider than normal. Then again, he did not need to: all his attention was focused amongst the stars in front of him, constantly devising new plans and tactics to make the battle turn out in their favour.

Twenty or more minutes passed, interrupted only by Carth's brisk orders and the occasional gasp from one of the crew members on the bridge. And then it all went pear shaped when, having managed to carefully avoid most of the Endar Spire's fire thanks to the ten other fighters that were covering it, one of the Sith ships managed to get close enough to fly on a suicidal track right into the deflector's shield armoured shell. The Endar Spire swayed again. Only this time it was so powerful that most of the crew fell off from their positions. Carth did not need to check the computer's reports in order to realise that the shields had fallen. A second burst of ion energy from one of the enemy ships headed in their direction. It hit the bridge, destroying the navigation computer and half of the bridge crew. Carth rose to his feet, wiped the sweat from his face and managed to activate the emergency communicator.

'This is Carth Onasi - the Sith are threatening to overrun our position! We can't hold out long against their firepower! All hands to the bridge!'

He looked at the Jedi who were standing around him. All of them knew what his words meant: they were about to be boarded. Grimly, every survivor on the bridge prepared their weapons.

***

Between Carth Onasi calling all hands to the bridge and the dreadful amount of smoke, bodies and sounds of defeat around her, Livia was pretty sure that she was dead, and the afterlife sucked. She and Trask were slowly making their way towards their bridge. They had barely came across any Sith soldiers, with the exception of a couple of already wounded ones, whom they had dispatched easily. Ignoring Trask's impatience, Livia continued to display the attention span of a five years old kid in a candy store, stopping to search the pockets and backpacks of every dead body they came across.

'Why are you doing this?' he finally asked, after what struck her like a long internal debate on whether he should just go on without her, or drag her with him by her backpack's straps.

'We need the grenades and medpacs they carry', she shrugged, as she finished searching yet another body. 'I do not want to open the bridge doors unprepared only to be faced by a brigade of Sith troopers, throwing grenades and who knows what else at us. Do you?' She used one of the kolto sprays she had found on him.

'Well, no', he admitted, rubbing his arm, 'but surely we have enough by now? Listen, we have to hurry. This is just the advance boarding party. Bastila might need us, and time is of the essence because the ship will be practically swarming with Sith sooner than you could say "For the Republic!". We have to get to the bridge and then to the escape pods.'

'All right. I think we have enough by now, anyway.' She realised that she was making him nervous, but it was not like she could stop and explain to him that having something to keep her occupied made her hands not shaky on the blasters they were pointing at everything that moved except for him. 'Hold on, I shall scout ahead.' Trask agreed; he, too, had heard the agonising screams from the next corridor. It was pretty much obvious for the both of them that it was not the Sith who had just lost the battle; the red clothed bodies to silver uniformed bodies ratio around them presented itself as a pretty good argument for that assumption.

Several minutes later, Livia came back to find him nervously pacing along the corridor. She tried to hide the way her body was trembling and the deep pools of fear in her eyes, but she found it hard to do so. She settled for a whispered report. At least this way her voice did not falter. 'Eight of them, seemingly in perfectly good health. I used a damaged sentry droid's sensors to spy on them, and they have grenades, blasters and vibroswords. I do not know about you, but I feel that fainting is a good idea right now.'

When he took her by her shoulders and shook her, Livia realised how afraid he was that she might follow through with her promise. 'Listen to me. If we do not get to the bridge, then we're dead anyway. So we either think of a way to get through them, or we die here like melodramatic fools.' He regarded her apologetically in response to her hurt look, but, to her dismay, he did not back off. 'Someone has to shake some reality into you, and if it has to be me, well... It's not like I have a choice. Now, about those grenades you collected...'

They came up with a plan: he out of despair, and she because her mental checklist had just promoted Trask Ulgo to 'people I should really listen to unless I want to wave at them from the wrong side of this ship's window'. Together, they crept around the walls until they were just out of the range of the blasters, and then they each threw at the hostile group two concussion grenades, which knocked six of the Sith unconscious before they even had time to point their blasters at them. Trask carefully aimed and hit the still standing Sith with two fatal blaster shots, while Livia provided backup fire. He unsheathed the sword from his belt and calmly started to make sure that none of the fallen Sith were ever going to regain consciousness again. Livia watched him with wide eyes so unnerving that he finally asked her in exasperation:

'Are you just going to stand there and not help me? Or do you somehow think that looking helplessly cute provides enough help as it is?'

'You know, I could do sans your shirty attitude, regardless of how much I deserve it.' She felt thankful for his businesslike attitude and sarcasm. The mild indignation that they had caused was much easier to internally deal with than the foreboding that had haunted her until that moment. She stuck her tongue out at him, and then she reluctantly unsheathed her vibroblade, kneeled before the unconscious bodies, closed her eyes, and stabbed in front of her.

Trask seemed to be amused despite himself. 'You didn't have much training, did you? You'll never get the job done unless you open your eyes. Not to mention that you might put me to rest instead of them, you know.'

She opened her eyes and attempted a reassurring smile. She failed miserably, so she settled for a shrug instead. 'I did have one week of special training for combat in close quarters with a Republic specialist. He was good, but not good enough to convince me that blood and entrails on my face are any more fascinating than I used to believe them to be. Forgive me. I just think that what we are doing here carefully hovers somewhere above the thin edge between "disgusting" and "repugnant"', she said, careful to stab the Sith in front of her in an almost surgical manner, in order to not get her clothes stained by blood.

'You're right. But we have to do it if we don't want to make it to the bridge only to find these Sith attacking us from the back. There, that wasn't so bad, was it? Now move!' Livia obeyed, but not before she gave a sorrowful look to the Sith backpacks that remained behind them, unchecked.

***

'All right, everyone. This is it.' Carth took a long breath and surveyed the faces around him. How the hell did he get in the leadership position, with everyone looking at him as if they were expecting him to do a magic trick to completely reverse the desperate situation they were in? 'We've seen and heard their ships approaching the Endar Spire to board it. We know what's going to happen: their main groups will attack the bridge first because that's where the controls for the entire ship functions are; they will then try to capture Bastila. We have to hold them back for as long as we can. At least one of us has to make it to the officer quarters and get Bastila in an escape pod as soon as possible. There's not much time for elaborate plans, so this will have to do: ranged weapons all along; vibroblades only if it's inevitable. As soon as there's an obvious breach in their numbers and perhaps a pause in the amount of troops they throw of us, try to make it to the emergency exit at the end of the bridge corridor. From there, get to the escape pods and use your access codes to find your way out of this ship. Jedi Azalyn and I will proceed along the corridor towards the officer quarters. It doesn't matter which one of us makes it as long as there's at least one to get Bastila to safety. We'll then get to the escape pods ourselves.'

All of them nodded their acknowledgment of the plan, and then, as if on cue, hands gripped blasters, vibroblades and lightsabers, while resolute eyes focused on the entrance door in apprehension. The first group of Sith that had managed to get to the bridge was greeted by a rain of cryoban grenades, which made them all clumsily and stiffly stumble across each other in what in other circumstances would have counted as an amusing display. The bridge crew did not spare a second to laugh, as their blasters and thrown lightsabers made short work of them from a safe distance. The second wave of Sith was poisoned to death by another bunch of grenades. The third one learned from their colleagues' mistakes and tried to stay as far away from the door as possible, but Carth directed the crew members and the Jedi to throw frag grenades at them, and they were all knocked on their backs, dead or rapidly getting there.

The breach that Carth was talking about earlier seemed to have arrived, so he motioned to Jedi Azalyn and made his way to the door. When some of the Sith who had been hiding around the corner met him with blaster fire and vibroblades, he fired his blasters at them in return, silently invoking quite an array of profanities about their cowardice. Had it not been for the Jedi's prompt use of the Force, which put all the Sith in a much welcomed stasis, he was sure he wouldn't have got out of the situation alive. As things were, though, he only got a rather deep sword cut in his leg for his troubles. He nodded quickly at her in thanks and, limping slightly, he headed further south. The Jedi followed him after she had inserted the necessary access codes to block the way to the bridge behind them.

Luck seemed to smile in their general direction for a while, as they didn't come across anything they couldn't handle on their way towards Bastila's bunk. Carth was just about to comment on that cute break that they totally deserved when Lady Luck pouted, scoffed and then stuck her tongue out at them just before she turned her back in disdain. In other words, Jedi Azalyn's eyes opened wide, and her arm shot back to stop Carth from advancing any farther.

He restlessly glanced across the room. 'What is it?'

'A Dark Jedi. Getting closer now. He is coming our way.' Her blue lightsaber ignited with a hum, and her eyes narrowed. 'Go. Find Bastila. I'll hold him off.'

'I won't leave you alone.' Carth readied his blasters and felt around his belt to make sure that his vibroblades were in place.

'I know you're an experienced soldier, but this is a fight beyond your league. If you don't make it, then there is no one left to save Bastila. He's almost here. I'll engage him in a duel, while you remain here. When I say "go", run towards the end of the corridor and find Bastila.'

There was no time left for Carth to voice his disagreement because he had just heard the unforgettable sound of another lightsaber being ignited; this time, from around the corner. Like a graceful feline, Azalyn leapt in the direction of the sound, and the two blades of energy met in a dance of colours. Tense seconds passed while Carth waited for his signal; he hated every one of them with a passion. Just as his patience was wearing out, and he was about to disregard Azalyn's instructions in favour of facing the Dark Jedi's power regardless of the danger, he heard her voice. He ignored the pain in his leg and ran forward and to the right. He barely had the time to notice that she seemed to be winning, as she was bending over a paralysed opponent to deliver the final blow.

Many corridors later, Carth finally reached Bastila's door and muttered a couple of very imaginative curses when he noticed it had been locked. Whispering about Jedi wonder children and their lack of responsibility, aversion for common sense and control freakish-ness taken to frustrating extremes - not necessarily in this order -, he proceeded to work on the door's access codes. Five minutes later, he was out of breath and out of curses as his gaze fell upon Bastila's body, crumpled in a heap on the floor.

'Of all the stupid things you have done so far, Bastila, this has got to be a serious prize winner for the dumbest of them all.'

'I heard that, you know', she interjected into his rant before it got any further, massaging her arm on which he had applied a kolto spray and an adrenaline stim. 'I doubt that your approach to the idea of chain of command should be so flexible.'

'Yeah? And I doubt that you had some mysterious, Force-inspired reason to lie on the floor unconscious, in a freaking locked room, waiting for the Sith to get to you. Come on, I'll take you to the escape pods.'

'I lost my consciousness when I was using my Battle Meditation to help you, you ungrateful - !'

Carth, who by now had ticked her off enough times to learn most of the Jedi Code by heart, watched her lips move subtly as she mentally recited the first part of it. She then exhaled and further elaborated her thoughts in a voice so cool that it would have made the winds of Hoth yellow with envy. 'The ship shook so badly that I lost my concentration and fell on the floor. I probably hit my head in the process.'

'So I imagined.' He gave her a sheepish grin. 'I appreciate your help, honestly. However, the battle is lost now, and we'd better hurry to the escape pods. Let's go.'

Bastila made sure her lightsaber was tied at her belt and followed him out of the room. She wished the Jedi Masters had warned her in advance about Carth Onasi's special power, which seemed to consist entirely in driving her mad.

***

Thanks to the fact that her visual cues were inexistent due to the huge columns of smoke surrounding every droid, every computer and almost every door they were passing by, Livia lost track of time and their relative position as they used whatever was left of Trask's orientation system to get to the bridge, wisely retracing their steps and trying a different direction whenever they came across Dark Jedi.

Trask stopped abruptly and pointed at the door in front of him. 'The bridge is just beyond that door. You should equip your vibroblade because there isn't much room on the bridge, and it's suicide to use a blaster in close quarters. Come on', he continued in an encouraging voice when Livia regarded him in silence, 'it is a very good weapon, made using a cortosis weave. It's strong enough to stand up against anything, even a lightsaber, so there's no reason to worry. We'll be fine, I promise.' Trask's words made relief wash over Livia like a blissful painkiller applied to an atrocious migraine. However, it only lasted for the fraction of the moment that it took for her to notice him switching his blaster with his sword and to thus fully process what he had just said, point at which she felt tempted to search the floor for her jaw that had surely hit it upon the shock.

'Vibroblade? Not bloody likely while I have a choice!' She started to back away slowly, shaking her head and more keen on spending the last moments of her life hugging one of the dying droids behind her rather than taking her chances with the Siths' ability to wield swords.

Trask rolled his eyes and grabbed her arm. 'You do not have a choice. Hear those screams? Those are your colleagues, dying. Those screams will soon be joined by our own unless we do something. And no, that "something" does not include running away back from where we came', he further specified, in response to the wishful peek she gave to the direction of their former quarters. 'Time is running out, and soon the element of surprise that our unexpected assault on the bridge would create will be lost', he added in a persuasive voice. The results of his efforts were still suspiciously absent from the party. 'Fine. I'll try one more time because if there is one thing I am sure of, it is that nothing will stay in the way of my resolution to save the both of us, regardless of wimpy women who refuse to listen to common sense. Equip your vibroblade now, or I'll leave you behind me while I go fight the Sith by myself.'

'By yourself? What happens if you die?'

Because her deep fear of the Sith and the unadulterated panic at the idea to leave Trask alone now furiously battled for the place of honour inside her, Livia barely acknowledged the surprised look in Trask's eyes as he clarified his words. 'I meant that I'll do my best to clear the way for you, and then together - if I'm still alive - we'll continue onwards, to the escape pods.'

'Oh, why did you not say so: Trask Ulgo goes there, and the Sith turn him into a noble martyr, while Livia Regana spends the rest of her life cringing in agony because her cowardice led to his death? How very motivating: fight with me, or watch me die. Well, I hate to repeat myself, but you going there on your own? So not bloody likely!' She inhaled and counted to five. When she continued to speak, her voice still trembled, but now threads of determination and resignation were interwoven amongst terror and anxiety. 'Trask, regardless of my rather... baseless exaggerations, I do know what you meant. And, despite the fact that a Sith battalion prancing around with their fancy swords is something I would rather read about in a book instead of actually witnessing in first person, your death due to my behaviour is a much more horrid thought to even contemplate.'

Livia had finished applying a couple of stims to her arm before she ended her last phrase. Before he had a chance to protest, she moved closer to him, used a stim on his arm and waited a moment to watch the effect on his body. When she was sure that his energy levels skyrocketed to the heavens as the stim was doing its job, she smiled the way a cornered gizka grins at its captors before they collect its valuable Tach gland, and she gestured with her vibroblade at him. 'You do not have to look so astonished, you know. It is not like you left me with any kind of choice whatsoever. After you.'

Like all the other doors in their path before this one, the door to the bridge had been sealed. Trask tried to deal with the problem as fast as possible, all the while keeping an eye on Livia, who started to tap her foot in annoyance at his lack of faith in her stubbornness, which was the only thing stopping her from an urgent flight back the way they came from. With a relieved sigh from the young ensign, the door finally opened and revealed the battle scene. Well, what was left of the battle anyway, because the few still alive Republic soldiers were being quickly put to rest by the Sith. Trask started the fight by throwing a frag grenade at the bulk of the Sith attackers; Livia followed his lead. Their actions soon caused a welcome decrease in the enemy numbers, so Livia thought that she had finally managed to impress Trask when he smiled contentedly after his eyes had rapidly scanned the room to count the remaining Sith.

Unfortunately, she did not have the time to bask in the glory of that smile because he then charged forward. Shuddering, Livia did the same, and that was when things started to go downhill, as her awkward swings with her vibroblade nearly caused Trask to lose an arm and a lung. Sure, she was not using the blade with her eyes closed this time, but this did not seem to help the situation any, because most of her hits with it still missed their intended target, often by coming dangerously close to Trask's body.

He ducked in front of his opponent's attempt to slice his neck and carefully avoided another incoming swing from Livia's vibroblade. 'There are only two of them left! Get back in the corridor and wait for me there!'

'Bugger that! I am not leaving you alone with these brutes. Oooooh, look! This is so much better than the sword stuff!' Livia beamed when the Sith she was fighting doubled over in pain after her right leg had successfully hit his groin. She poked him in the arm with her vibroblade. 'Still gross, though.' She scowled at the amount of blood that was now pouring from his arm. At the same time, he had recovered enough to block her next attempt to injure him. Livia was pretty confident that her failure to kill him while she had the opportunity to do so meant that now he had a more than decent chance to win the fight. Sparks flying, metal clashed against metal as their duel resumed.

'When this is over, like a goddess, I'll gracefully land on the planet below, head to the nearest cantina, eat as much junk food as my stomach permits, drink eye-watering stuff until I forget that there are Sith in this galaxy, and then graciously allow for countless handsome thugs to take care of my every wish and command. Gah, that was close! Stupid Sith trampling like bantha in heat all over my perfect dream!' She knew that allowing herself to daydream while fighting was another thing that would have made Gavin's hair grey out prematurely, but since it distracted her from the heat of the battle, she welcomed losing herself in it.

However, she did not forget the party pooper of her fantasy world, whose insistence she rewarded by viciously biting his left hand, which was trying to encircle her arm around her shaky defence stance with the vibroblade. She was very pleased with the result, so she bounced in excitement, silently apologising to Trask when her careless action forced him to avoid yet another possible beheading from her vibroblade. The movements in her peripheral vision made her aware of how, taking advantage of the brief break in Trask's concentration, who now had to guard himself both from the enemies and his supposed ally, the Sith he was fighting kicked his left leg from under him, and, in a matter of seconds, he had him at his mercy. Livia gasped and shakily sidestepped, moving in his direction in an attempt to distract him from his prey. At the same time, her loosely tightened backpack strings had surrendered, and the contents spilled on the floor, causing several of the droid repair parts in it to spread all over the place. Some of them were circular, so the soldier whom Livia was fighting tripped over them and impaled himself in her vibroblade.

'Ewwww!' Startled by the impact and the blood, Livia sidestepped again, unintentionally treading on the toes of the Sith who was looming over Trask. He promptly cringed in pain and tried to regain his balance, while Trask, never one to ignore an opportunity when it presented itself, used his enemy's temporary lapse in attention to severe his middle section.

'Well, that was... something I'd rather not experience again if I live through this. I'd ask how in the nine hells did you manage to pass the final exams for the training class that you mentioned, but we're kind of in a hurry, so I'll refrain.' He quickly rose to his feet and wiped the blood off his sabre using the nearest Sith trousers as an impromptu handkerchief.

'I cheated.' Her whisper was barely audible in the noise from the broken machinery around them, but as she closed the distance between them to apply another kolto spray from one of her medpacs to his forearm, Trask heard it, nevertheless.

'I didn't know you could actually cheat at those exams.'

'You cannot. Not technically, anyway.' She paused and decided that now that her chances for a romantic dinner were practically nonexistent, she might as well reveal the entire truth. 'A couple of days before the examination, I hacked into my instructor's files and found out which three people I was supposed to be tested against. I used the records he had about them, the computerised security cameras and... er, good old fashioned stalking procedures to memorise and practise defence techniques against those particular fighting styles. So when the exam started, I was able to come up with a decent enough performance, which made The Powers That Be allow me to graduate that infuriating class. It helped that I had excellent grades for all the other subjects.'

When she heard how his laughter was apparently beating back his outrage with a stick, Livia paused her rummaging for useful things through the Sith backpack she had found near a burning console to smile impishly at him. 'When I decided to practise to become a scout, the advertising said nothing about combat in close quarters; instead, the slogan was something along the lines of "An explorer most at home on the fringes of space", so it sounded ideal for a bookworm like me. It actually was perfect for a long time; there are very few things that can outlive a pair of blasters pointing at their face. But then the Republic heard about my unofficial exploits and came with the brilliant idea to hire me for a mission on Omwat, which initially seemed very exciting. By the time I found out about the importance that the Republic placed on proficiency in combat in close quarters, it was already too late to wave the discreet flag of "No blood and gore for me, please!", do you not think?'

'Heh, I see what you mean. I - What was that?' Trask carefully took a few steps towards the door on his right side, holding his weapon in a defensive position. A gloved hand opened it just as he reached it, and Livia's eyes widened when she noticed the lightsaber in the tall man's hand.

'Damn - another Dark Jedi! I'll try to hold him off, you get to the escape pods! Go!'

'Trask, no!' Horrified, Livia ran towards her companion, but it was too late. The last she saw of him was his resigned look as the door closed in front of her, leaving him trapped with the Dark Jedi. In vain did her shaky fingers scratch at the defying door; futile was the abuse she inflicted on her vibroblade when she tried to insert it between the door and the wall; equally frustrating were her attempts to hack the door's security via the broken nearby computer. Her shoulders sank in defeat, as she let herself fall on the floor, her bloodied fingers trying and subsequently failing to wipe away all of her tears.

***

They couldn't return all the way he came. It was full of Sith and Dark Jedi, all looking for Bastila. They retraced their steps back to her bunk, and Carth used the ship's computer cameras in Bastila's room to spy on them.

'They overcame the bridge crew and the one in the room next to it; even if we somehow manage to assault them successfully, the groups who are boarding the ship as we speak will replace them sooner than I'd like. Thankfully, they haven't reached to the escape pods yet, but I suspect we don't have much time left. The corridors leading to the bridge are also full of Sith, and the same goes for the corridor leading to the escape pods. Had I been with anyone else instead of you, I'd have risked carving my way through them until the escape pods. But if they see you -' His right hand reached up and pushed away the brown strands of hair from his face, and only his discipline stopped it from shaking slightly as it did so. His brain was working furiously in an attempt to think of some possible solutions. He knew very well what would happen if even one Sith managed to alert the others that Bastila was still on the ship: they'd all come to get her. And then Malak would get her and try to use her Battle Meditation against the Republic and -

'Isn't there some alternate route to the escape pods?'

'I don't know. That's what I'm trying to find out', he answered, silently welcoming the interruption that her calm voice had created in his thoughts. Several minutes passed in silence between them, as Carth's fingers moved on the terminal and dozens of ship blue prints passed before his eyes. 'There!' he exclaimed, pointing with one of his blasters. 'That's a tunnel that leads to the escape pods. And the entrance is just one room across this one.'

Bastila peered over his shoulder, and her eyes narrowed almost immediately when they saw what he was looking at. 'You can't be serious!' she sputtered indignantly. 'That's the dumped droid parts corridor! I'm not going through that! It's full of oil and droid remains and who knows what else. There has to be another way.'

'Well, if you think you can find it, please, be my guest.' With a sarcastic bow, he stepped away from the terminal and made an inviting gesture with his blaster at her. As she snorted, pushed him away from the terminal and started to use its various commands with no apparent success, Carth's facial expressions alternated between amusement and irritation for a couple of moments, until irritation, doing a rude series of victory gestures in front of its former enemy, won. He breathed, inwardly begged for patience and tried to be reasonable. 'Listen, Bastila, we don't have time for this. If there is another way towards the escape pods - other than a not so much heroic but rather suicidal dash through the various ranks of Sith troopers - it's too well hidden, and we really lack the necessary time to search for it. At any minute now, the Sith could discover us in this room.' Carth hated to feed her self importance feelings seeing as in his opinion they were quite chubby already, but this had to be stressed again, considering the circumstances: 'You and your Battle Meditation are crucial for the Republic war effort, but this ceases to be true if you die or are captured by the Sith. Put these two premises together, and you'll see that the only sensible conclusion is to come with me to that tunnel and then to the escape pods. We can regroup on the planet below.' He was pretty sure he got her to mentally repeat the Jedi code again, but Bastila only did that when she knew it was worth it. The corners of his mouth raised in a relieved smile.

'Very well, Carth. Lead the way.'

Bastila's double bladed lightsaber and his blasters made a joke out of the fight with the three Sith who were waiting for them in the room with the tunnel entrance. Carth opened the access panel to it. Thanks to the fact that all kinds of droid parts were disposed off via the tunnel entrance, it was sufficiently large for both of them to go through. Because he did not discard the possibility that she'd change her mind, he made Bastila go first through it, and, after he had sputtered a few invectives directed at his inconveniently hurt leg, he followed her. She landed in a dirty heap of messed Jedi robes right in front of one of the two escape pods left. While she was busy with the - futile, in his opinion - attempt to arrange and clean her robes, he powered the terminal in the room.

'What are you doing? We should go.'

'There's someone left alive. One of our crew members, moving closer now. Get in the escape pod. I'll hang around to see if the survivor makes it here. Perhaps I can help.'

She gripped her lightsaber hilt in what was probably a comforting gesture for her. 'Are you mad? There's an entire squad of Sith Troopers just beyond that door! There's no way the crew member can get through them all alone.'

'I will help, if I can. There are some things that could be done to reduce their numbers, if one knows their way around computers and droids. Now go!'

'Who is it, anyway? I'll stay and help.' Bastila started to make her way towards his terminal.

'Oh, no, you don't! I'm just a soldier for the Republic. You're the one the entire Sith boarding party is after. You will get into that escape pod right now! Don't worry about me, I'll take the other one as soon as I can.'

Ignoring the huffing and ranting, Carth more or less pushed the reluctant Bastila towards one of the small emergency crafts, where he safely strapped her in. After he watched her escape pod fly away in the direction of the planet below for a few seconds, he approached the computer terminal again and tried to patch a link between himself and the survivor's personal communicator.

***

'This is Carth Onasi on your personal communicator. I'm tracking your position through the Endar Spire's life support systems.' Livia's eyes snapped open at the soothing, but concerned voice that was coming out of her communicator. 'Bastila's escape pod is away - you're the last surviving crew member of the Endar Spire! I can't wait for you much longer; you have to get to the escape pods!'

So everyone except herself and the man whom Trask had called 'one of the Republic's best pilots' was dead. Livia looked at the closed door in front of her and felt how anger replaced her pain. She welcomed it. 'I do not know who you are. I do not know where we shall meet again. What I do know is that one day it will happen, and you will regret ever setting foot on this ship.' Tempted as she was to hang around and deliver on her whispered promise or, more likely, die trying, she knew that giving in to the taste of vengeance inside her would most likely mean that another man might die because of her. So she got up, tightened her backpack strings, sheathed her vibroblade in favour of her blasters, and headed left to the starboard door.

When she reached the next corridor, two sword wielding Sith acted as the welcoming committee. They did not have time to draw out their swords as her blasters made short work of next couple of Sith she came across had better luck, though. As she was trying to evade the attack of the one who was using a sword, the blaster wielding trooper aimed, and the concentrated beam of high-energy particles glided over her left shoulder, much too close for comfort. 'Well, that will leave a mark', she thought when, despite her brain's commands, her now limp arm dropped the blaster it was carrying. Wishing she could have the luxury to squirm under the excruciating pain, she fell on her knees, right next to a Republic Soldier dead body; her enemy moved forward to deliver the final blow. Livia rolled under the table and used her sword to stab him in his right knee. When he fell down next to her, her blaster shot him in the heart.

She heard the other soldier moving around and assumed he was trying to determine her position under the table. With the speed that few things other than sheer terror can inflict in someone, Livia grabbed a poison grenade from the nearby Republic soldier's body and threw it at her enemy's feet, immediately covering her mouth and nose with her right hand. Like a not so gracious tree, the Sith soldier soon fell in front of her, his body in convulsions and his nose desperately trying not to breathe the toxic air around him. Livia stopped breathing and used her healthy hand to kill her remaining enemy with her vibroblade. As soon as his body stopped moving, she jerked to her feet and accessed the nearby computer's commands to vent clean air into the room. It was only after the first wave of fresh air had entered her strained lungs that she allowed herself to sigh in relief and check her surroundings properly. A non functional combat droid in the corner of the room attracted her attention. Hesitating slightly, she started to make her way towards it, hoping there'd be some way to reactivate it and use its skills to aid her. Her communicator beeped, and Carth's voice came through:

'Be careful! There's a whole squad of Sith Troopers on the other side of that door! You need to find some way to thin their numbers.'

'Jolly good', muttered Livia and inaugurated her dive into irreverence with a few Mandalorian words, which all involved creative but perhaps anatomically impossible uses between various Sith body parts and Selkath flippers. She continued to approach the disabled droid, while she listened to Carth's sensible suggestions on her communicator. It turned out that he had the same idea as her own, advising her to either activate the droid and use it as a meatshield - minus the 'meat' part, perhaps - against the Sith, or to slice the computer terminal and turn the Endar Spire's security systems against her enemies. She decided to do both, just to be on the safe side.

She reached the droid and opened her backpack, carefully selecting a few choice repair parts. She then opened the panel in the back of the droid and entered the droid's diagnosis mode in order to determine its status. She was pleased to discover that all it needed was a small shield replacement and an activation of its patrol mode, so Livia hastily replaced the shield in question and took a step backwards, realising that it would not be wise to send the droid alone against an entire squad of Sith without first making sure that as many odds as possible were in its favour. She approached the computer terminal instead. Her expert fingers soon found their way against its protections and accessed the main system commands. She used the inbuilt security camera to assess the situation in the other room. This caused another wave of profanity to leave her mouth, as she counted the enemy numbers and came with the disheartening result of twelve.

She did not stop swearing as her right hand danced on the computer's keys, in an intricate pattern that would soon lead to a malfunction in the power conduit next to the Sith contingent. By the time her efforts were rewarded with a satisfying explosion, which she watched in disgust via the security cameras, she had exhausted the Mandalorian swear words and had started on Rodian. To her dismay, the explosion still left some Sith standing, who were now rapidly approaching the door that separated the room she was in from theirs. So she quickly logged off from the computer and made her way towards the droid once more, activating its patrol mode and then hiding below the table. The droid's fluorescent eyes snapped open, and, tightening its grip on its flame thrower, proceeded towards the door, where it evaporated the incoming Sith in a matter of moments.

'We make a wonderful team, mate.' The droid was very rudimentary in all areas except combat, so she knew that her remark was pointless. But Livia was also a firm believer in positive reinforcement, so she said it, nonetheless. She paused a moment to inspect her left shoulder. It still hurt like hell and made her want to slither in the corner of the room to rock back and forth in the fetal position, but she only had one medpac left, and she didn't know if she'd find any more. She started to head towards the end of the room from which the Sith came, and when she noticed that one of the bodies had an expensive and powerful looking vibroblade on it, she kneeled to pick it up.

***

Carth was doing everything in his power to keep his apprehensiveness firmly in check. Now that he had made sure that Bastila got away from the ship, all he had to do was to get into the last escape pod himself. But he had never been a man to leave a survivor behind, so he waited. And waited. Just when he was seriously starting to consider to get in the room at the end of the hallway and grab the survivor by the ears to drag her to the last escape pod, the door opened and a disheveled, small and slender woman crept in, wary eyes staring at him from behind the patrol droid that was accompanying her. With the Endar Spire dying around them, there was no time for lengthy introductions, so Carth got right to the point:

'You made it just in time! There's only one active escape pod left. Come on, we can hide out on the planet below!'

Apparently, she disagreed with his idea about the time they had left for introductions, because the first thing she did after she unsuccessfully tried to wipe some of the blood off her face was to ask him who he was. Carth sighed in exasperation, but he could understand her reluctance to follow a complete stranger, so he indulged her briefly:

'I'm a soldier with the Republic, like you. We're the last two crew members left on the Endar Spire. Bastila's escape pod's already gone, so there's no reason for us to stick around here and get shot by the Sith. Now come on - there'll be time for questions later!'

'Unlike you, I am a scout, not a soldier', she whispered as she was heading towards him. 'That said, what is your excuse for looking the way you do?' She pointed at his left leg.

Carth looked down at the blood from the untreated wound that was covering it. 'It's just a minor flesh wound.' Or it would have been, if the aggravating woman in front of him hadn't got through the trouble to remind him of the pain which, until now, he had successfully ignored. And just who was she to comment, anyway? It's not like the shape she was in looked any better than his own, judging by the way in which her left arm hanged stiffly by her side. She stopped from her walk and hesitated slightly, looking at something she had taken out from her pocket. Apparently reaching a decision, she continued to stride towards him and put something in his hand. It was a medpac. 'Thanks.'

While he made quick and efficient use of the medpac's contents, the distant sounds of explosions and marching feet had moved closer. She probably heard them as well because she looked at him with alarmed eyes, and her body froze. 'It's now or never, sister', he announced, taking her arm and directing her towards the pod's door. As the craft's doors closed in preparation for the flight off from the Endar Spire, the last things he heard were the multiple hums of ignited lightsabers behind him.