Disclaimer: So, I hope you all know I don't own this. If you don't... I suggest you see a doctor or something.
Read and reveiw, you know. I don't catch all my errors and I really would like to know what kind of impression I'm leaving, okay?
I watched as the Jedi girl fought one of my Dark Jedi protectors.
Not that I needed protectors.
She was making headway. Her pale blue eyes glittered with fear and determination. Her porcelain skin was flushed, but not a single dark brown hair was out of place.
Her golden saber found opportunity and she thrust it into her enemy. He fell and she stood, panting, as three Jedi ran forward to back her up.
Ash sat up, panting harshly. Her chest heaved.
"Whoa, there." The male voice was soothing. She calmed down.
"Where am I?" Ash saw a tall, broad-shouldered man in a very orange jacket. Her memory flooded back.
"We're in an apartment on Taris. I'm Carth Onasi. We crashed here."
Ash nodded. "I remember. I guess I owe you one."
Carth frowned. "No, you don't. I would've done the same for anyone. I've never left a comrade behind and I don't intend to start."
She smiled at him. "I still owe you." She rubbed her head. "That bump hurts."
"That doesn't surprise me. You've been unconscious for three days now. You seem to have been having nightmares… awful ones, from the way you were thrashing around."
"I'm not surprised. I have some rather… unpleasant memories." She said softly.
"Ah. Well, we need to find Bastila and find a way off this planet."
Ash closed her eyes for a moment. "Bastila is that big-shot Jedi, right?"
"Battle Meditation, yeah. I'd call her big-shot. Her talent allows her to influence armies." Ash snorted.
"So can an actual battle plan and secure supply lines." Ash muttered, her eyes boring into the floor. "I imagine that with the general Jedi superiority, Bastila is an insufferable brat?"
"I'm not supposed to say anything bad about my superiors." He said diplomatically.
Ash laughed. "I'll take that as a yes. So, have you got any clues as to where Bastila could be?"
"The Undercity is our best bet. But it's supposed to be nasty down there. Rakghouls and thieves."
Ash grinned. "I can handle thieves, Brass. I'm a pretty decent pickpocket myself." His eyes seemed a little wider. "But tell me about yourself. I wanna know more about the guy who watches my back."
"You want to know about me?"
Ash sighed, wondering just how dense the man was. "I asked, didn't I?"
He flushed. "Well, I've been a Republic star-pilot for years. I fought in the Mandalorian wars. But as bad as they were, I've never seen anything like these Sith animals can unleash!" His eyes glittered angrily. "My home planet was bombed by Malak and there wasn't a damn thing the Republic could do about it!"
"Oh-kay." Ash muttered, looking at him. He no longer seemed aware of her.
"I'm just a soldier; I go where the Fleet Admirals tell me to. I follow my orders to the letter and I do… I do my duty. It's just… it doesn't seem right that doing that means I failed them! I didn't. How could I?" Ash didn't care for this kind of self pity in anyone. It was poisonous.
"How could it be your fault? Malak ordered the attack." She said softly.
He seemed to remember her. "Sorry… I guess I'm not making a whole lot of sense, am I?"
Ash crossed her arms. "Not really, but we all have moments."
"Well, sorry. I'm just not really used to talking about my past… at all." Ash sighed.
"Alright. But I'm here if you want to talk." She looked around, walking over to a corner and picking up her pack. "Does the refresher in this place work?"
Carth shrugged. "As long as you don't mind cold water."
She grinned. "There's nothing better for waking a girl up." Ash entered the refresher. The water was cold, but she didn't mind too much. She washed her hair with a bottle of soap from her pack. She dried herself off and pulled on clean clothes—black and tight-fitting. She shook her head, sending water flying. She then brushed it, grinning at her reflection. The tattoos on her cheeks flickered. She walked out, her shaggy black hair framing her oval face.
"So, where's the cantina? I want a meal and a drink. And I can make some creds playing pazaak." Carth watched her. "Know anything about the elevators to the Lower City?" He shrugged.
"They're lax about security. I walked up to one and he told me to leave. A second later, he let a patrol through without so much as a whisper.
"So we need a set or two of uniforms." She said. "Sith idiots." She noticed Carth looking at her. "Not that I'm complaining. Now, where's the cantina—no, someplace where we can get rid of this extra stuff. I don't need a half-dozen blasters, none of which I can shoot straight."
"Everyone can shoot a blaster." Carth said, just managing to keep the incredulity out of his voice.
Ash shrugged. "I can't hit a target a meter from me with a Mandalorian blaster carbine." She patted the vibroblades on her hip. "That's why I have these."
"You can't be that bad."
She grinned, her teeth flashing. "Yeah, I totally am that bad. I imagine I could learn to shoot straight if I really wanted to, but I don't really want to. Anyway, you look pretty comfortable with those pistols of yours. I've got all the ranged back-up I need. Doing one better than when I was no longer a soldier."
"You were a soldier? I read your service records… and there's nothing there. Your first name, physical description, and a note that you speak an whole lot of languages."
Ash shrugged. "Not surprised. When my employment with the Republic was… terminated, my service records were very carefully removed by—" She looked at Carth and smiled. "Let's just go… that equipment store, right? Lead the way, Brass."
They walked out of the apartment. To see a patrol.
"All of you aliens get up against the wall!" A uniformed Sith snapped. "This is a raid!"
"There was a patrol here only yesterday." A Duros whined. "They found nothing! Why won't you Sith leave us alone?" The Sith put a few blaster bolts in the alien's chest. Ash tensed, pulling a knife from her boot and holding it lined up with her wrist. She walked to the wall, leaning against it casually, hiding her vibroblades with her legs. Carth looked at her in askance as the Sith turned.
"What's this? Humans hiding out with the aliens? They're Republic fugitives!" He shouted. Ash sighed, her wrist flicking as she moved forward. The knife buried itself in the Sith's throat as she rammed a vibroblade into the chest of one droid. She left her blade in the sparking droid, rolling sideways and using her arms to propel her body, her feet, in an upwards kick that knocked the head off the droid. She rolled back, waiting for the sparks to die down.
"Sith idiot." She hissed.
"Th-thank you, human." The Duros pulled her vibroblade free of the droid, handing it to her hilt-first.
"No big deal. He was gunning for me, so I dropped him before he could drop me." Ash accepted the blade, shrugging. She walked forward to loot the body of the Sith and retrieve her knife, wiping it clean on the uniform.
"I will take care of the bodies, so it looks like he died elsewhere. Perhaps, with the disappearance of this patrol, the Sith will not return here."
Ash shrugged. The Sith would come back, if only for kicks. "Whatever pleases you." She said nonchalantly. "Cummon, Brass, let's go." She walked jauntily out of the apartments.
"Where did you learn to fight like that?" He asked. She chuckled.
"I fought in the Mandalorian wars for six years. And I've been wandering the galaxy for six. I've fended for myself since I was twelve."
"You're an orphan?" Ash shrugged.
"Yeah. My parents... I never knew them. I was in the care of an old healer woman. Until she died. And then I lived on the streets until I was sixteen, survivng on what I could steal. I did good. A little skinny, but good."
"So, when did you join the army?"
She walked forward again, as if she hadn't heard him. When they were outside, she looked around. It was a modest area. Ash could see the entrance to the cantina and equipment store, as well as a gap in a wall that she assumed led to the elevator. She went to the equipment store.
"Hello there." A woman with dark skin stood behind the counter. "I'm Keebla Yurt, and welcome to the Equipment Emporium!" Ash nodded, dumping the contents of her pack on the counter.
"I'd like to sell some stuff before I browse." Keebla smiled.
"That's fine, but all prices are final. This isn't a swap meet. I only deal in top-notch stuff." Keebla looked over the items, finally giving Ash a number of credits. Ash accepted them, then went to look through the inventory. She had some demolition experience, and so was familiar with all manner of explosives. She purchased a few different grenades, a permacrete detonator, and a few other bits, stowing them in her thinned pack, slung casually over one shoulder.
"What do you need the explosives for?" Carth hissed.
Ash shrugged. "A girl needs to be prepared. I've used permacrete dets a time or two… when I needed to vanish. Use one of those things on your apartment, and there won't be a body. So nobody looks to deeply… in case they find something really nasty."
"You've faked your death?"
Ash grinned. "Oh, yeah. More than once."
"Mind explaining that?"
She ignored him, speeding up to enter the cantina. She went to the bar, ordering a bottle of their best whisky, which she put in her pack, and a glass of Tarisian ale. She ordered a meal and went to a table. Carth followed. "Watch out. Tarisian ale has a wicked kick."
Ash grinned at him. "Why I'm drinking it, Brass. I can hold my alcohol, don't you worry." She took a gulp. "Shortly after I was finished working for the Republic, I became something of a heavy drinker. I had… have bad nightmares. Alcohol helps me sleep. And I've got a really high metabolism or something. Maybe I'm like the Zeltrons and have a second liver… I just don't get drunk easily. So don't worry about lil' ole me."
"I won't then." Carth growled.
Finishing her meal quickly, Ash surveyed the cantina. She saw Sith, recognizable by their ramrod posture and unease, spacers, and Upper City citizens. She finished her ale, noting a Hutt in a side room.
"So, how expensive do you think our search will be?" Ash asked lightly. Carth shrugged.
"I really don't know. But you can bet it won't be cheap. We'll need to get to the Lower City, and then the Undercity." Ash chewed her lip.
"Right, then. That Hutt's in charge of the dueling ring. Since you're a rather famous face in some circles, I'll do the dueling." She reached into her pack, pulling out a plain mask. Two eyeholes were black pits. And a hood. "Picked them out at the shop. Anonymity is a wonderful thing. If I'm dueling, I don't want my face plastered all over the place." She walked to the refresher, items in hand.
Ash put on the mask and hood, along with a slightly billowy long-sleeved shirt she had purchased. The items felt… comfortable. Maybe even familiar. She grinned under the mask, her gray eyes gleaming like silvery.
She left the refresher, walking up to the Hutt.
"Dueling is over, no betting right now." He grumbled.
"Not here to bet, Hutt. I'm here to fight." She retorted sharply. "What's your standard contract?"
"Ten percent of all bets."
Ash chewed her lip. "I'd prefer twenty."
The Hutt laughed. "You are bold, human. People have tried before to win credits from me. They have failed. But… I do need new blood for the ring. People are bored with the same duelists."
Ash smirked under her mask. "Sure. But it won't be my blood on the ring. And I suppose your contract is good enough."
The Hutt laughed again. "I can set up a duel now, ready to fight in a half hour. You just need a name. perhaps… the Mysterious Stranger? You have no past, not history… that would do wonderfully."
Ash shrugged. "Whatever you say, Hutt." It sucked as a name, but Ash didn't want the Hutt asking questions. "Set up duels against your first three duelists." She snorted. "I saw that last duel on the screen." It had been a rather pitiful duel. The Hutt shrugged.
"As you wish, little human. Return in an hour." Ash sauntered to a wall and leaned on it, her head tilting to one side.
"Just like that? You're going to throw yourself into three duels? Three death matches?" Ash rolled her eyes.
"If you're going to be a spoilsport, Brass, you can return to base. I can take all comers. And you don't die in the duels. Energy suppressor fields on arenas nowadays. At least on Taris."
He sighed. "You really are going to do this?"
"I made a contract with the Hutts. And you never break contract, okay? If I said I'll fight, I'll fight if it means I have to scrape myself off the ground." She sighed. "And I don't really feel like getting a new bounty on my head. The Republic was generous enough to pay off the other ones."
"How many other ones?" Ash shrugged nonchalantly.
"Four or five or something." She drawled. "But they were pretty small-time. Not a bounty that was gonna get me chased across the galaxy. Well, maybe the one from that Hutt on whatever planet it was."
"What'd you do?" Ash shrugged.
"Maybe I accidentally set off an explosion or two, and freed the slaves, and I mighta let a few mercs with issues in the back door… I'm not sure how the Hutt survived, much less with enough credits to post a ten thousand cred bounty on my head."
"My, my, you sound like trouble."
Ash smiled wickedly under her mask. "Yeah, I am." She tilted her head back, closing her eyes. She ignored Carth as he talked at her. After a few minutes, he gave up. And she hoped he went back to the apartment. If she was still in good shape after the fights, she planned on doing a little dancing. There was no better way to loosen tongues than to wear a skimpy dancing outfit and a dab of pheromone perfume.