Chapter 2: Nothing Unusual

Erithon groaned upon leaving Colonel Graff's office, rubbing at his temples. Wonderful guy, the colonel. Three missing patrol teams were certainly not 'nothing unusual.' If it hadn't been for Sergeant Dorne, he might not have gotten any helpful intel at all. The woman had some backbone, too, quoting regulations at Graff like that. Maybe Garza's instruction to keep things quiet wasn't a bad one after all. No telling what Graff would stoop to if he had no problem disobeying a general's order.

Garza's description of Taris had also been generously lacking in detail. It was hard to discern the crumbled buildings from the rolling landscape, every piece of duracrete and plexisteel was choked with vegetation. The air was thick with humidity and a chemical tang that revealed the pollution that still pervaded the atmosphere. Safe of course, but still smelly.

He was starting to understand why reclaiming Taris would be so symbolic to the Republic. It would show the Empire that they wouldn't stand down, that they could recover even after centuries had passed. That despite the destruction they might rain down on the Republic, they would rise again. In the meantime, the tattered planet with its uncharted ruins and vicious creatures was an ideal hiding place for any one of the former Havoc members. Erithon wasn't sure if Dorne's lead would pan out, but it was better than nothing at all.

A harried-looking private stood shaking his head at the backs of a pair of settlers, still debating whatever issue they'd had with the young man. He turned back toward the spaceport and caught sight of Erithon, raising a hand in greeting.

"Lieutenant? Private Sakal. I'm glad you're here. Brass asked for me to look out for you." He gave Erithon a snappy salute followed up with a welcoming grin.

Don't lose sight of your primary objective, Garza says. Right. "What can I help with, Private?"

"Captain Childress at HQ is requesting some help from your unit, sir." The private's eyes flickered to the Havoc insignia on Erithon's shoulder, an expression of awe on his face. "You're requested to meet up with a Jedi there for an important job."

Erithon nodded. Jedi? Interesting. "Of course, Private. What's the mission?"

"Need to know, sir, and I don't. When you arrive at headquarters look for a Jedi. Human female, brown robes." He raised a hand to approximately chin level. "'Bout that high." He smirked. "Not much to her, but she got some of the settlers off our backs." Sakal jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the retreating settlers.

"How's that?"

"We're not authorized to handle personal claims, of course, but she stepped right up and got those kids straightened out."

"What was the problem?"

"Turns out there were aliens with an even older claim to the land sitting on the place." He nodded, admiration brightening his young face. "The Jedi convinced the human settlers to work with them. Even the brother. We might have had a real scene on our hands if she hadn't stepped in."

"Sounds like she's a good asset."

"Probably why they're pairing you up, sir. You shouldn't be far behind her if you leave now. Take the base speeder." He gave another smart salute. "Good hunting, Lieutenant."

When Erithon arrived at headquarters, he had no trouble picking the Jedi out of the motley collection of Republic troops like himself. Even swathed in layers of traditional-looking robes, she was a head shorter than him and couldn't weigh any more than his cannon. He caught a flicker of silver glinting on her left hip, presumably the Jedi's iconic weapon, as she turned his way.

He didn't know much about Jedi. He'd seen a few in the field and had always been grateful for their help. They were skilled warriors, to be sure, but more often than not held themselves away from the rest of the enlisted troops. He didn't get the impression at the time that these Jedi thought they were better. They simply did... Jedi things. Meditated. Whatever.

She pushed back the hood of her cloak, expanding on the brief glimpse of delicate features he'd seen as she approached. She had bright, deftly bound hair, dusky platinum in the muted light of the Tarisian jungle, a pretty compliment to her fair skin. She observed him intensely as he approached, seeming to lay bare his thoughts and feelings. Expecting to feel edgy and unnerved by such a gaze, Erithon was surprised to find himself ready to share anything he was thinking with this lovely woman.

Erithon stopped up short. A Jedi, he corrected himself. A beautiful Jedi, but still a Jedi. Even so, that admonishment didn't fully stop his imagination. Maybe he wouldn't want to share everything he was thinking with her, after all.

He cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. "You must be the Jedi."

"I am. Aitahea Daviin." She placed her right hand over her heart before making a courteous bow.

"Lieutenant Erithon Zale, Havoc Squad." Feeling a little awkward, he nodded in reply. He was usually one for a salute or a handshake, but his scant experience with the Order left him a little bewildered as to the appropriate protocol.

Aitahea didn't seem to mind. She canted her head, curious. "Have we met before?"

"I'm sure I'd remember meeting you." Erithon flushed. "I mean, I don't think we have. But it's a big galaxy, Master Jedi."

Aitahea's expression was inquisitive, but the glitter in her eyes betrayed unexpected mirth. "That it is, Lieutenant. Shall we find Captain Childress? I expect this will be urgent."

"Sure," Erithon said, rubbing at the back of his neck in chagrin. Wow, great first impression, he thought as he followed Aitahea.

Headquarters was cobbled together inside a ruined high-rise, mismatched resources creating a bizarre labyrinth. Like everything on Taris it was snarled in vegetation, though someone had made a cursory effort to remove the worst of it. The portly captain was waiting for them beneath one of the clearer patches.

"Master Jedi, Lieutenant! Thank you for taking the time to see me." He exchanged salutes with Erithon before turning to Aitahea. "You did nice work on that land claim mess, Master Jedi." He shook his head in annoyance. "We didn't fly this many troops to the armpit of the galaxy so some kids could play pioneer."

"I… only did what was needed, Captain." Aitahea exchanged an uncertain glance with Erithon, who shrugged and shook his head, equally baffled with the captain's disdain.

Childress didn't seem to catch their exchange and continued, waving a hand dismissively. "It'll take way more than it's worth to make this planet livable. Only thing interesting about Taris is that it's the worst failure the Republic's ever had."

Erithon frowned. "What do you mean?"

Aitahea turned to him. "Taris was the site of a massive conflict with the Sith more than three hundred years ago, during the Jedi Civil War. They were hunting for Bastila Shan, who was only a Padawan at the time."

"Shan? Related to the Jedi Grand Master?"

"Yes. Master Satele is a descendent of Bastila and Revan. Darth Malak blockaded Taris while both the Republic and the Empire sought Bastila. Revan and his companions were able to rescue Bastila and escape to Dantooine, but Darth Malak ordered an orbital bombardment, which…" Aitahea gestured to the swamps around them, "resulted in this." She dropped her hand to her side, eyes closing as if in pain. "Billions died."

"It was an ugly flaming death, too. They tried the same thing on Coruscant in the last war."

Aitahea flinched at the captain's words but swiftly resumed her serene demeanor. Erithon raised a brow at the pale Jedi, hesitating a moment before continuing the conversation. "Yeah. And we still don't know how to defend against a bombardment like that once the enemy ships are in low orbit."

"Correct, Lieutenant," Childress replied, "And we need to change that." He cleared his throat before continuing. "I sent commandos to defend a research team at the crash side of the Endar Spire – the last Republic warship shot down over this planet.

"If we're lucky, that ship recorded the whole bombardment. But my team's lost contact…" He paused, eyeing the Jedi and trooper critically. "…which means there are desk jockeys in the wild with the most valuable data on Taris. That's where you come in."

Erithon and Aitahea shared another look before the Jedi nodded decisively. "We'll find them, Captain," Erithon agreed.

"Fast as you can make it. The crash site's some ways out, in the Sinking City." The captain paused, broad face caught in a scowl. "Data's the number one priority. Bring anything the Endar Spire recorded to the outpost."

Aitahea frowned. "What about your people?"

"I don't know if you'll find survivors, Master Jedi, but we need that data."

Asking if they'd met was not an invitation to flirt – despite Erithon's charmingly inadvertent remark - but a genuine inquiry. It wasn't likely to be any connection of consequence, but some faded memory had sparked inside her. Had they met on one of the myriad planets she'd visited? She'd crossed the paths of countless beings during her time training to be a Jedi, some more than once. What set Erithon apart?

She waved away the distracting thought as they left Aurek base. The man beside her was more important than any memory. Aitahea could sense in him a solid core of will and a sense of duty she had seldom encountered. His Force-signature was like a flame, warm and luminous, but prepared to burn if a threat was perceived.

Leaving behind the skeletal structure that served as Aurek base, Erithon and Aitahea assessed their route on the trooper's battered datapad.

"There's the Endar Spire," Erithon offered, zooming in on the map. "Getting between here and there isn't going to be a walk in the park."

Aitahea nodded, stepping close to get a closer view of the map. "Indeed. The rakghouls are teeming all through the city. There've been reports of pirates and scavengers near the Endar Spire as well."

"Probably the ones responsible for our lost people."

"I'm almost certain of it." Aitahea traced the twisted line of their journey with a slender finger. "I'd prefer a more direct route, but Taris doesn't seem to have left us many options."

Erithon handed the datapad over to her as he quickly checked his gear. "I wonder what it used to be like."

She looked up from the datapad, that inquisitive tilt to her head appearing again. "What?"

"The city. The planet."

Looking out across the ruined landscape with thoughtful eyes, she worked to envision what Taris had been like before the catastrophic destruction that had made it uninhabitable for three centuries. She imagined privileged families like hers in the bright spires of the upper city, and the miserable beings confined to the shadowed lower levels. Light and darkness. "I expect it was a great deal like Coruscant, or perhaps Corellia."

Erithon shrugged. "Haven't spent much time on Coruscant. I was assigned there the last month or so, but not really long enough to get a good grasp of what it's really like."

Aitahea wondered at his response. She'd just come from Coruscant as well, having left Yuon in the capable hands of her physicians. Had they crossed paths while on separate assignments there? It wasn't without possibility, but that flicker of recognition seemed to linger further back in her memory, long before Coruscant or even Tython.

"You spend much time there?" Erithon asked, stirring her out of her reverie.

"Oh," Aitahea began, refocusing her attention on the trooper. "Yes. I was born there. I know it somewhat, but many things have changed since I left to… continue my training."

"I bet. So, you were a kid when the Treaty was signed," Erithon commented, making a clumsy attempt at insight. Like all children of the Republic, he knew the history surrounding the Battle of Coruscant and the treaty – if you could call it that – that resulted. If she'd been on Coruscant… the Jedi Temple…

"Yes," Aitahea said, voice hushed. "I was away from the Temple with my parents and sister at that time." Her eyes were fixed on the datapad, though she didn't appear to be seeing it. "I was shuffled from one safehouse to another while the Sith razed the city. Eventually the Jedi evacuated me along with the other survivors."

Erithon watched the Jedi's pensive expression linger, half wishing he hadn't dragged up what was clearly a bad memory for her. But at the same time a sense of solidarity seemed to sink in. It looked like neither of them had been left unscathed by the war, no matter how cold either side insisted it was. "Sorry," he offered anyway. "Didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

Aitahea cleared her throat and handed the datapad back. "Not at all, Lieutenant. Our history helps us become who we're meant to be." She pulled up her hood, shadowing her face, but when she lifted her eyes to his they weren't haunted like they had been seconds before, instead shining bright with promise. "Let's rescue our people."