Disclaimer: All rights to the Star Wars franchise and characters belong to Lucasfilm.

Chapter 2: Stranded

Through clouded vision he watched two combatants engage each other. One was a beautiful young woman with dark hair, and the other a man garbed entirely in black and grey, with his hood raised. Yellow met crimson as their lightsabers collided, although the woman quickly outmatched her opponent, and struck the final blow, cleaving through his chest. As the man fell to the ground, she raised her weapon once more as if to prepare against a further, unseen enemy…

Lysias slowly opened his eyes, his vision unblurring to reveal a small, dark room, with scarcely any furnishings save for two beds—upon one of which he was lying—and a metal workbench. Sitting on a stool beside his bed was the soldier from the Endar Spire with whom he had been in the escape pod…what was his name again? Lysias felt a dull pain in his head, as if it had been knocked against something with a considerable amount of force. The soldier….the soldier….Carth, that was his name. Carth Onasi.

As Lysias turned his head to look at Carth, the goateed soldier, who had been watching him, spoke. "You're awake," he said gently, "finally. I was beginning to worry that you weren't going to."

"Wh-What?" Lysias mumbled groggily, still trying to regain full rein of his mental faculties.

Carth furrowed his brow in worry, and leaned forward, closer to Lysias. "My name is Carth Onasi, we escaped the Endar Spire together, remember?"

Still feeling like he was trapped in a drunken stupor, Lysias replied, "Carth, yes, I remember." He shut his eyes, trying to get control of himself.

"Good," said Carth. "Don't try and get up too quickly, you've been banged up pretty badly." He went on to explain. "Lysias, our escape pod crash landed on Taris. Your harness was defective, and it didn't completely absorb the shock of the impact; you took quite a beating as a result. Luckily there was a nearby doctor who was willing to treat your injuries. He said that while you'll still feel pretty out of it at first, you should be up and running in no time."

"Unnnngh," groaned Lysias, although he was starting to feel better, "defective harness…just my luck…"

Carth chuckled. "You think that's bad," he said, "wait until you hear what our situation is like."

Through much focus and effort, Lysias managed to bring himself into a sitting position. "I had a very strange dream," he muttered, massaging his temples with one hand, and completely disregarding Carth's previous comment.

Carth seemed taken aback by this, but after a moment he replied, "I'm not surprised, really. You've been muttering in your sleep for the past few days."

Lysias looked over at him. "A few days?" he asked. "How long has it been since the crash?"

"About a week," Carth told him. "After I had dragged you from the crash site, the doctor looked after you for two days before allowing me to take you back here. I've been splitting my time between looking after you and scouting out the area."

"And where is 'here', exactly?"

"Like I said, we're on Taris. More specifically, we're in the Upper City. Taris is one enormous city that was primarily built over the span of a century. But since the discovery of new hyperspace routes, it's long been in decline. And for the past hundred years or so, the dichotomy between the rich and poor has been growing. While the nobles live in the upper city, on the tops of skyscrapers, the downtrodden have been forced to the lower levels. From what I've gathered by asking around, gangs have overridden the Lower City, and don't even get me started on the Undercity."

Lysias frowned, looking at Carth quizzically. "And yet somehow I get the feeling it's not just the socioeconomic troubles of this planet that are making you so tense," he said, noting Carth's tightened shoulders and grim expression.

Carth nodded. "The Sith ambushed the Endar Spire because they knew that Bastila Shan was on board. Once they realized that she had escaped to Taris, they destroyed the Spire and invaded the planet. In the past week, Taris has come under a full occupation by the Sith. They've even enacted a planet-wide quarantine to ensure that Bastila is trapped on Taris while they search for her."

"So what you're saying is that we're, what's the expression, in 'enemy territory'?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

Lysias let himself fall back onto the bed. "Just my luck," he repeated once more, not a little wryly, however. He sat up again, and began to ponder the situation, chewing on his thumbnail absentmindedly as he did so. "Although," he mumbled, "I suppose this does work in our favor. With legions of Sith troops searching for Bastila, they probably won't bother looking for us. Which means that we should be able to move about relatively freely, provided we don't piss them off, of course."

"Exactly what I was thinking," said Carth. "And that should make our search for Bastila that much easier."

Lysias eyed him sardonically. "Oh, so you're one of those types," he muttered darkly. "Never one to abandon a mission even in dire circumstances, huh?"

Carth's expression grew fierce. "If you're implying that you'd prefer to save your own skin rather than find and rescue Bastila, then you can forget it. I've read your file; you used to be a smuggler before the Republic caught up with you. Well maybe looking out for "number one" worked for you back then, but you're a soldier now, and you can be damned sure that you're going to selflessly serve the Republican cause for as long as you remain under my command."

"I'm under your command?" Lysias snorted. "And how do figure that one, Carth?"

"Quite simply, aboard the Endar Spire, I served as an advisor to Bastila, who had been put in charge of the ship. You on the other hand are a raw recruit. Therefore, I outrank you."

"You mean you outranked me on the Endar Spire. But I do believe any official post you held on that ship expired when it did. Now you and I are just two soldiers stranded on a Sith-controlled planet."

Carth clenched his jaw as he tried to work out a response to this. "I should have realized that the minute the chips were down, you'd turn tail and run," he said after a moment. "You smuggler types always do. You're nothing but a coward. And after all I did to save your life…"

Lysias chuckled, unfazed by the other man's remarks. "Save your guilt trip, Carth. I never explicitly said that I wouldn't look for Bastila, I was just making a comment on your character." He couldn't help but smirk at Carth's look of astonishment at these words. "Look, you said that the Sith have imposed a planet-wide quarantine. That probably means that any ships that attempted to leave Taris without some sort of authorization would be vaporized before they'd even managed to clear the atmosphere. Being a Jedi, Bastila probably would have a good idea on how to circumvent the quarantine. Therefore, even if I was the selfish coward that you seem to have taken me for, it would still be in my best interest to help you find her."

"And you're saying that you're not a selfish coward?" Carth asked, looking half embarrassed and half perturbed at having overreacted.

Lysias shrugged nonchalantly. "I certainly wouldn't call myself a coward, but neither am I well disposed towards risking my life needlessly. I like to think that I take a pragmatic approach to these sorts of things."

"Mhm," Carth said, "and as for being selfish?"

Lysias smiled at him. "Well," he replied in an amused tone, "I do rather like myself."

Carth rolled his eyes at this, and Lysias thought he heard the man mutter, "Narcissistic pretty boy…"

Lysias chuckled and stood up from the bed, stretching his limbs as he did so. He was still a little sore, but the pain in his head had receded enough for him to be comfortable. "You said we were in the Upper City," he told Carth, who was gazing up at him from the stool. "Where specifically are we in the Upper City?"

Carth now stood up too, so that his eyes were level with Lysias'. "We're in a low end apartment building," he explained, rubbing his goatee and frowning. "These apartments are mostly empty, so some of the poorer citizens have taken up squatting in these rooms. There are also a number of illegal aliens here."

"Illegal aliens?" Lysias inquired, walking over to the metal workbench to pick up his blaster—his vibroblade must have been lost in the crash.

Carth nodded. "Taris is a highly socially stratified society. Wealthy humans are on top, with most aliens and poorer humans being confined to the lower city levels. It's despicable prejudice if you ask me."

"Agreed," said Lysias. "However, moving among the lower rungs of society can have its advantages. The filth of a society tends to know the what goes on in the shadows. The aliens in this apartment building, and certainly the residents of the Lower City, will probably know something about Bastila's whereabouts."

"A good point." Then Carth paused, as if pondering something. "And now that I think about it, your file also showed that you're fluent in a number of alien languages. That should come in handy when we're dealing with aliens on this planet. It's a bit surprising though, a talent like that is pretty rare in a raw recruit."

Lysias shrugged again. "When you're shipping illicit goods all over the galaxy, you deal with a lot of different species. You pick up certain things."

"Makes sense, I guess…" Carth replied, although now he was looking at Lysias with what almost seemed to be suspicion.

"Yes?" inquired Lysias, raising one eyebrow.

"Nothing," said Carth quickly, shifting his gaze to peer at the door. "In any case, we should get going."

They exited the room to find themselves in a large steel hallway that appeared to loop around in one great circle. Lysias could see several aliens moving along through the hallway. Two Duros were headed their way, their red eyes contrasting sharply with their leathery, blue-green skin. "Have you asked them about Bastila yet?" he inquired of Carth, gesturing at the Duros.

"No," Carth replied, "but I've already found out that the other escape pods from the Spire crash landed in the lower levels of the city. We should probably find a way down there."

"Sounds like a plan. Off we go then."

But as Carth and Lysias began to walk towards the apartment building's exit, booted footfalls pounded along the steel hallway. "Stop right there!" a harsh voice sounded, and Lysias' hand instinctively went for his blaster. He restrained himself, however, as four armored Sith soldiers came into view, directing their weapons at the passing Duros.

The Duros turned around to face the soldiers, their lipless mouths open in confusion and surprise. "What do you want?" one of them asked, speaking in Galactic Basic, the lingua franca of the galaxy.

"You two aliens are living in the Upper City illegally. We're here to collect a "compensatory fine" for your transgressions."

The Duros became very agitated at this, so much so that he switched to his native tongue, Durese. Lysias was still able to understand him, however. "You Sith have already extorted us this week!" he proclaimed.

The Sith soldier leading the group looked disgusted. "How dare you address us in that dirty language of yours. We are Sith soldiers, and we demand respect!" Before anyone could react, he raised his rifle and shot the Duros in the chest. Keeling over, the alien fell to the ground, his wound clearly fatal.

"Hey!" Carth shouted, and he reached for his blaster. But Lysias was a step ahead of him. When the Sith had first raised his weapon, Lysias reacted instantly, drawing his blaster. He felled two of the other Sith soldiers before they could react, dropped his blaster, and dove at the leader, leaving Carth to shoot the remaining one. The lead soldier turned his gun towards Lysias, but before he could pull the trigger Lysias had seized the barrel and shoved it to the side. He slammed his other hand into the soldier's windpipe with enough force to crush it, and wrenched the rifle from the Sith's hands as the latter stumbled backwards.

The soldier sank to the ground, grasping at his throat as he suffocated, gazing up at Lysias in disbelief. Lysias watched him dispassionately, looking from the soldier to the dead Duros so as to clearly indicate for what crime he was being punished. Wild panic melded with fear on the soldier's face, his attempts to draw breath foiled by the damage done to his neck. A moment later his struggles ceased as Lysias discharged the captured rifle into the man's chest.

He then turned to look at the second Duros, who was kneeling at the side of his murdered companion. "Poor Ixgil," the Duros muttered. "He should have realized that the Sith would be looking for any excuse to resort to violence. Thankfully you two were here to step in and help." He nodded to Lysias and to Carth in appreciation.

"It was our pleasure, believe me," said Carth, handing Lysias the blaster that he had dropped. "Though I'm sorry we weren't able to act in time to save Ixgil."

"It's alright. You did more than what I would have expected from two human strangers."

"We should probably do something about these bodies," Lysias noted, eyeing the four fallen soldiers, and the pools of blood that were spreading from their still forms.

"I'll take care of that," replied the Duros. "It's the least I can do after all your help. I'll dispose of them somewhere far away from here. That should throw the Sith authorities off of our trail for a while."

"We appreciate it," Carth told him.

The Duros squinted curiously at the pair of them. "You two aren't just average Tarisians, are you? You're skilled fighters, even by mercenary standards. You wouldn't happen to be some of those Republic soldiers who crash landed here a week ago, would you?"

"Not at all," Lysias responded smoothly. "We're just two guys with a penchant for helping those in need, that's all. We have no connection to the Republic whatsoever." He gave the Duros a meaningful look.

The alien's lipless mouth stretched into a smile. "Whatever you say. These are dangerous times for anyone on Taris to identify themselves as enemies of the Sith, but you should know that there are many who resent this occupation, and many more who resent the quarantine."

"Thanks for the advice," said Carth, smiling at the Duros. "Well, we should get going."

"Yes, go on and 'help those in need.'" The alien chuckled. "And don't worry about these bodies. I'll see to it that they're far removed from this place soon enough."

"Good luck," Lysias told him, and then he and Carth moved past the dead Sith soldiers and towards the apartment building's exit.

"Well that went well," Lysias commented as he and Carth exited the apartment complex. They emerged onto a sunlit street on the top of what appeared to be a giant skyscraper. All around them Tarisian citizens strolled by, going about their daily business.

"I'd hardly call that a good start," replied Carth dryly. He gestured for Lysias to follow him, and the pair began moving about the crowds. All around them Lysias could hear pieces of conversations, some involving the Sith and their occupation, others the latest Tarisian fashions.

"What are you talking about Carth?" said Lysias brightly, although he dropped his voice so that no one could overhear. "We helped someone in need and killed four Sith soldiers in the process; I'd call that an excellent start to our partnered adventure."

"You call it an adventure, I call it a fight for our lives."

"Tomato, tomato," shot back Lysias with a grin. "What you call work I call fun."

"You call killing four armed men 'fun'?" Carth looked incredulous. "Although perhaps I shouldn't be so surprised…" He was gazing at Lysias as he had been in the apartment, with a subtle amount of suspicion.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" inquired Lysias, picking up on his expression.

"Well," began Carth hesitantly, "you know what you did back there. You practically took out that entire Sith group by yourself."

"What's your point?"

"Surely you must realize how that looked to me. Even on the Endar Spire, when I was watching your progress on the video monitors; I saw you kill four armed troops singlehandedly. Clearly you have the skills of an elite mercenary. Now combine that with your prodigious facility with languages, and tell me what you make of it."

"What can I say? I'm a talented individual." spoke Lysias in deadpan.

"Clearly," muttered Carth, visibly irritated. "Furthermore, your transfer to the Spire was specially requested by Bastila herself."

"Bastila requested me personally?" echoed Lysias, his cheerful wit displaced by this sudden revelation.

Carth nodded. "That she did," he said. "So why don't you tell me what you think. A raw recruit with your kind of talent, singled out by one of the most powerful Jedi in the galaxy. And then you just happen to be one of the select few crewmembers of the Endar Spire to survive the attack. It just doesn't add up."

By this point they had stopped in front of one of the many street shops. Above the entrance doors shone the words "Droids by Janice". But Lysias wasn't paying any attention to the sign. "What are you saying Carth?" he asked, annoyance creeping into his tone. "If you think I had anything to do with the attack-"

"That's not what I'm getting at," Carth interjected hastily. His brow was furrowed as he struggled to find the right words. "Look," he said, "I'm not making any accusations against you. But at the same time, and don't take this personally, I just can't trust you."

"Gee Carth," said Lysias, his sarcastic tone returning, "how could I ever take that personally?"

"I'm being serious. And it's not just you, I don't trust anyone."

"And was there a cause for this, or were you just born with a general lack of faith in your fellow man?"

Carth glared at him. "I have my reasons," he returned sharply.

Lysias cocked an eyebrow. "Do you plan to share with the group?"

"No, I don't," cut back Carth. "And anyway, this isn't about me, it's about you."

"You're the one who's having trust issues here Carth, not me."

"It shouldn't be a problem. Like you said before, it's in both of our best interests that we find Bastila and then get off this planet. I have no problem working with you to achieve that goal. But just know that I'm watching you."

"Feel free," commented Lysias. "I get that a lot, you know. Oh the woes of being attractive…"

"That's not what I meant-" began Carth, once again looking outraged, but Lysias simply chuckled at his partner's reaction and continued his way down the road. "Hey!" yelled Carth, moving to catch up with him. "Where do you think you're going?" he demanded.

"To get a drink," Lysias responded shortly. "Talking to you is giving me a headache."