The pair of them worked surprisingly well in getting to the party and breaking in. Carth struggled to not twitch every time they went near a sith soldier. Practically surrounded by them he wanted nothing more than to grab his blaster and kill every single last one of them. At least in the apartment (which was far cushier than any apartment he would have expected a foot soldier to have access to. Maybe they bribed an officer?) they were out of uniform, so Carth could stop twitching towards his weapons.
He managed to join in joking and trading stories after a stiff drink, though all it did was give him the faintest buzz. Just looking at them made the memories of the people he'd lost flash through his mind. Arwen wouldn't be the only one drinking when they got back to their apartment. He found out that the patrol that was heading out had stored all their stuff in another room so they'd be ready to grab it and head out the next morning. Now it was just a matter of waiting for the people to drink enough to not notice Carth and Arwen going where they shouldn't.
Arwen, unlike Carth, was completely in her element. She was laughing and trading stories with the soldiers as if it was nothing. To her, it really wasn't. One different paycheck would have seen her on their side after all.
"Hey, hey! What's the difference between the republic and yogurt?" Arwen waited for a moment and then loudly proclaimed. "Yogurt has an active culture!"
A series of laughs went around the group, which were probably aided by the drink. "No, no! I got another. How do you stop a resistance fighter from drowning? Take your foot off the back of his head." A roar went up and drinks were toasted.
"Another round!" Arwen proclaimed, to more cheers.
Drinking and mocking the republic. Carth wanted to strangle her. Taking a deep breath, and reminding himself he needed a second soldier to help him escape the sith barricade, he watched until the soldiers were smashed enough for him to slip away and grab the papers. He stuck around for a little while after that, the crowds getting wild and couples starting to match up, to head over to Arwen.
"You got enough?" he grouched.
Arwen glanced up at Carth and smiled. She tipped her glass back, finishing the rest in one gulp.
"Sorry boys." She said, getting to her feet. "We have to go penetrate the blockade if you know what I mean." Arwen gave her drunken crowd a wink and there was a series of laughters, geers, and the occasional groan that followed. Arwen waved to them goodbye as she headed out the door with Carth.
"Well, they were certainly eating out of your hand," Carth grouched. He understood that Arwen had really just been using the same humor that was common among soldiers and fighters, but he still disliked that she'd so easily slid among the sith. He slouched along towards the apartment, passing a group of drunks psyching themselves up to go and beat up some poor alien.
"Well it worked didn't it?" Arwen said in a much more sober tone. "I didn't even get a decent buzz off of that thanks to your rule. You should be thanking me for showing some restraint." As she said that, she pulled out a hidden flask and took a big swig of it.
"Something I do not intend to do from now on. I've got three of these." She said proudly, shaking the mostly full flask of Tarisian ale.
Carth looked over at Arwen in surprise. It seemed she was better than he had expected, and more professional than she'd given the impression of being. He sighed. Perhaps, just perhaps, she wasn't as bad as he thought.
He snorted. Unlikely. Carth pulled out a bottle of Tarisian ale he'd snagged for himself, and happily began to drink from it.
Arwen was stumbling slightly by the time they got back to the apartment. She giggled happily to herself as she meandered over to the table. She tossed the empty flask onto the table and pulled out another one. Her fingers had a tough time getting the grip they needed to open the flask. Frustrated, she began to gnaw on the cap. One good twist and a chipped tooth later, and Arwen was drinking again.
"Too... To… Two. Two. Four SIX EIGHT!" Arwen was back to giggling again.
Surprisingly alcohol made Carth rather...relaxed. He laughed at Arwen, and started up an old drinking song.
Arwen began to animatedly sing along. She sung her flask offbeat and seemed to be tapping the table to an entirely different tune. By the time she had finished all of her flasks, she was long gone and passed out.
Last night had been good. He'd definitely enjoyed the ale. The hangover the next day? Not nearly as much.
Carth wasn't sure how much water he chugged down, but his head was cleared enough for them to go. He checked his armor to make sure he looked 'sith' enough to pass inspection. Wearing pieces of the sith armor had his skin crawling, but it was just for the elevator. Then he could take it off.
The first intelligible words out of Arwen's mouth were "Did we make it home?" Her head swayed as she tried to sit up, and failed. It took Arwen a lot longer to get mobile than it took Carth. Her head was pounding and every little sound made her want to tear her ears off. Or punch someone. Either one would have worked.
Arwen somehow managed to grab all her things and follow Carth. She didn't even look at the guard. Her focus was entirely on not puking. The sith guard inspected them, before waving them past into the elevator.
"Good luck finding that jedi," the guard grunted.
The Lower City was...different.
Right from the start the distinction between the two parts of the city were obvious. While there had been poorer parts in the Upper City, it was nothing compared to the poor sections here. People were far rougher. Graffiti covered most of the buildings, and they looked worn down. Perhaps once this place had been nice, but that was a long time ago, and the planet had clearly since moved on.
Carth removed the sith style armor he'd been wearing, replacing it with his more regular armor, when someone came sidling out of an alley.
"Nice armor," the guy said. He smirked, licking his lips. Carth fingered his blaster watching the guy.
"Why don't you hand it over? Hm? Support a good cause. We're going to stop the Beks from taking over this neighborhood, you know."
Arwen pulled out her blaster and shot the guy with barely a glance.
Carth flinched drawing his blaster at the sudden shot. He looked over at Arwen, relaxing as he saw who it was. "Hope that didn't draw attention," Carth muttered. His lips curled in slight distaste. The kill had been quick, almost too sudden. Arwen hadn't even given the guy a chance to back down. It bothered him somewhat.
Arwen gave Carth a hallowed look. She lifted a finger to her lips. "No talking. Hurts."
Carth's lips twitched with amusement. "Need some more painkillers?" he drawled.
"Yes."
Carth opened his mouth to reply, only to be cut off by the sound of more blasters. He drew his blaster this time, the sounds too familiar to a battlefield for him to remain relaxed. Carth peered out, but the fight wasn't out in the open.
At least, it wasn't at first. Someone stumbled out of an alley, clutching at a wound. Another shot hit his head, dropping him dead.
"I vote we move away from the battle," Carth murmured.
Arwen had a grenade in her hand. She had an apathetic look on her face as the man fell to the ground. Her gaze turned back to Carth and she frowned. The hand with the grenade bobbed up and down a few times. She didn't really say anything and only gave a grunt to acknowledge that she had heard him in the first place.
"You wanna brawl while hungover?" Carth pointed out.
Arwen thought about this for a moment longer and finally put her grenade away. "No." She turned around and started walking in a random direction.
The slight tension in Carth's shoulders eased. He hadn't known how unstable Arwen was. Yeah, hangovers were painful, but killing over them? He had been right to distrust her. Why the republic had recruited the mercenary was beyond him. How could they rely on someone like her?
Silently they moved through the Lower City, the sounds of fights occasionally breaking out. The streets were fairly empty, those that were out darting through the streets as quick as they could, afraid of being pulled into the fights. The entire area was a battlezone.
"Ideas on figuring out which gang has the republic survivor?" Carth murmured.
"One of the swoop gangs." she deadpanned.
Right. He'd forgotten she wasn't interested in that. Arwen was only hanging around him because they stood a better chance of surviving and escaping the sith blockade together than apart.
"And ideas on how to get the access codes?" Carth drawled.
Arwen just stared blankly at him. With the way her head was, he was lucky she had enough sense to reply.
Carth sighed. Seemed it was best to just focus on getting to the Cantina. Maybe they'd find someone there who could get the access codes, and someone there would know who had claimed the survivor. He'd be able to get water for Arwen too, help alleviate the headache and hopefully make her functioning enough to pull her weight again.
First though, they'd have to figure out where it was, and survive not being shot. Arwen wasn't the only one with a few local kills by the time they arrived.
Arwen stumbled into the Cantina and headed straight for the bar. "Give me a shot."
The cantina was a far cry from the up scale bar they had been in the previous day. While the bar did boast a dueling arena, and was a hot spot for gambling, the bar was clean and hired reputable bands. Violence in the bar was kept to a minimum, and they had good alcohol
This one on the other hand, had various dirt tracked over it. A waitress could be seen wiping at a table, but the stains on it wouldn't be removed, and she didn't look particularly bothered with it anyway. Every single last patron had a weapon of some kind on them, and there wasn't any music playing, unless one counted the cheap radio that one of the patrons had brought in. Far more aliens were in this bar as well.
In the back was a couple of rodians, making a deal with a rather short man. To make up for his height he was built thickly, and wielded his gun with finesse.
"Davik paid you to deliver. He isn't interested in paying more," the short guy said. His words were rather shortly clipped, giving an odd gait to his sentences.
Ah, but now we want more. The Black Vulkars worked hard for this, the rodian chattered.
"One," the guy said.
What's this? Notice you're outnumbered another rodian barked out.
"Two."
I think he's counting! What an idiot. Hey, what comes after two? The rodians laughed.
"Three." The short guy promptly shot all three rodians dead.
The messy bar didn't phase Arwen a bit. She took her drink in a dirty glass and downed it all the same. Arwen slammed the glass down and was about to ask for another when the sound of weapons fire rang out. Arwen glanced over her shoulder as saw the three dead bodies. She raised an eyebrow at the scene and turned back to the bartender. Arwen slid a couple of extra credits towards him and gestured towards the short man with a quick flick of her head.
"What's goin' on over there?" she asked.
The bartender accepted the money. "New here then? Calo Nord's been hired by the local exchange boss. The Vulkars are supposedly just a branch of the Exchange, they're pretty in debt to the group, unlike the Beks. They've been pushing the line recently though. Guess Davik got tired of it and sent Calo to shut them up."
The bartender paled and fell completely silent, fixing his eyes to the bar as Calo came closer. He only glanced briefly at the bartender before heading out to tend to whatever business he had.
"Sounds like my kind of man." Arwen pushed her glass away and jogged after Calo. 'Hired' was the key word. If her hunch was right, he was probably a mercenary like herself. In that case, they spoke the same language.
"Hey!" Arwen called as caught up with him. "That was quite the show."
He stopped, and glanced at her. "One."
Arwen gave him a cocky grin and stepped in front of him. She pulled out a bag of coin and gave it a little toss before placing it safely behind her back. "Easy my friend. I just want a little chat. One that is good for you and good for me."
He paused. "Thirty seconds."
"I need information for a client of mine. I'm willing to pay for it and a poor memory."
Calo nodded his head to show he was listening. "Twentyfive seconds."
Arwen stopped smiling. "I want information on the captured republic soldiers."
"How much?"
"Depends. Base 100 for the information and another 50 for a lapse in memory. But, I'll increase it depending on how much you've got."
"Deal." Calo accepted the money. "All the republic soldiers are in sith hands, save for the one the Vulkars captured. The soldier is supposedly a high ranking officer, and is one of the prizes to be won in the gang swoop race."
Arwen pulled out the credits that she promised, but kept the bag open and visible. "Where are they being held?"
"The base, for now. Ones they finish with are killed. Seems they only want one in particular. They just haven't found her yet."
She tossed another 15 in his hand. "What about the one the Vulkars have? Where is she being held?"
"They ain't saying. Saw her when the prizes were put up for the swoop race, haven't seen her since. Tight security around it, to keep the gangs from cheating to get the prizes."
Arwen gave him another ten. "Know any way inside the base?"
"That'll cost more."
Arwen passed over twenty more credits.
Calo smirked. "Only way in is to be a sith soldier, or have a droid hacker built."
"Know where I can get a droid hacker?"
"No."
"What about someone who would know?"
Calo frowned. "Time's up. I have other business to take care of." He moved to go around Arwen and leave.
Arwen pocketed her coin bag and watched him go. She had been hoping for some more information, but what he gave her would have to do. Arwen shrugged and made her way back inside. Carth would probably like to know what she had discovered. Hopefully, he was as good at racing as he was in the ring. If not, she might have to arrange a few "accidents."
Carth had watched the exchange uneasily, but Arwen had handled the prickly bounty hunter rather well. He arched a brow as Arwen came back to his side.
"That was rather surprising. What did you have to say that got Calo Nord to actually listen to you?"
"Simple, I used the universal language of mercenaries: money." Arwen replied cheekily. She gave Carth a quick rundown of her discussion with Calo.
"How well do you ride?"
That...was surprisingly useful information. Carth smirked at Arwen's question. "I'm the best pilot the republic has, what do you think?" He ordered a couple drinks, pushing one to Arwen while downing the other.
"Something is finally going right. Cheers!"
Arwen clapped Carth on the shoulder. "Thank you for volunteering." Still probably wouldn't hurt if she arranged a few accidents. All they needed was to get Bastila and they would be golden. The gangs had her from the sound of it.
"Get away from me, creeps!" a young teenager shouted. Carth turned to spot a twi'lek teenager, surprisingly speaking basic rather than the typical twi'lek language. Arwen completely ignored the scuffle between the aliens. They weren't her problem.
Little twi'lek talk big game. She should know better, a bug alien clicked.
Such beautiful skin, she will fetch a good price on the slave market, his companion agreed. The twi'lek backed up, heading to a table where a wookie sat.
"Big Z, I could use your help here," the teenager snapped.
What? But I just sat down to eat! the wookie grumbled.
"Eat after," the twi'lek said sharply. Grumbling the wookie stood up and moved over to stand behind the twi'lek. The slavers backed up.
Whoa, we have no problem with wookie. We have problem with you, little girl, the bug alien protested.
"You have a problem with me, you have a problem with Big Z, got it?" she said confidently. The aliens paused for a moment, before shrugging and backing off. The girl relaxed, and the wookie headed back to his meal. Carth relaxed as things were resolved, and turned his mind back to his own problems.
Carth quietly set to investigating how to enter the race, only to discover one had to be sponsored by a swoop gang to enter. And what gang would be willing to give up one of the prizes to a sponsored racer? At least it would give them an in, but getting out would be more difficult. He moved back to Arwen's side.
"Hey. It seems I'll need a swoop gang to sponsor me if we're going to get anywhere near the officer. I've looked, and the two major gangs, Hidden Beks and Black Vulkars, seem to be sponsoring the most. Maybe we could convince one of the smaller gangs to hire a racer at the last minute. They'd certainly be more willing to give up one of the prizes, but they might not be as willing to risk it on an outsider."
Carth's information wasn't all that surprising. She sniffed and downed her last glass. "You. Not we. You are the one that needs the sponsor. But don't worry your pretty little head, I'll do my part as promised."
Carth sighed. Every time he thought that he might be getting used to Arwen, she did this, and he had to resist the urge to murder her all over again. "Right. So I guess I'll just convince the...Beks? No one wearing those colors have shot at us at least."
"I can change that." Arwen smirked and pat her pistol.
Carth took a deep breath, keeping himself from punching her. "We're already in one war. We don't need more enemies."
"Yes. Yes. Yes. Fine." Arwen rolled her eyes and dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "Let's just get going shall we? I'm getting bored."
Two is better than one. Two is better than one. Two is better than one, and murder is frowned upon. He would not kill his only ally. Carth looked around, until he spotted someone in the Beks' colors having a drink near the back. There were others there as well, but at least he felt fairly confident in approaching him.
Carth walked up to him, and waited for a pause in the conversation to butt in. "Pardon me, but I heard the Beks were sponsoring racers for the swoop bike race?" he asked. The neimoidian looked over Carth carefully, his eyes moving to trace over Arwen.
"The race is tomorrow, rather late for joining, isn't it?" he asked casually.
"We heard about a rather interesting prize, decided to try our hands at winning it," Carth replied. Arwen wanted to smack him. 'I,' not 'we.' She didn't want to enter the race. Race's weren't her thing. Yet, Carth had said we. Arwen waited and the second the neimoidian looked away, she dug her foot into Carth's toe. The gang member smirked.
"And you think your abilities worth parting with a portion of the prize for the race?" Carth grinned.
"I will win that race for whoever backs me." The neimoidian looked at the pilot with renewed interest.
"Perhaps our leader will be interested in hearing what you have to say. He's down near the southern apartments, the brick warehouse. If you can manage to reach him, I'm sure he'll be interested in hearing what you have to say."
"Great, thanks." Arwen said and gave the alien a wave that was too quick to be polite. "Let's get out of here before you volunteer me for something else." She hissed, glaring daggers at Carth. If looks could kill.
Carth looked at her in confusion. "What are you talking about? You got some hidden pilot talents you haven't shared with the class?"
"You said 'We.' 'Try our hands at winning.' As in you and me." She accused.
"You expect me to rely on our oh so gracious sponsors for aid?" Carth demanded.
"Yes, actually. That and my dishonesty. We can't exactly rely on your skills completely if you are going to win that race."
Carth bristled sharply. He looked coldly at his companion. "Care to say that again?" His voice was surprisingly calm despite his clear fury.
"Sure Mister Soldier." Arwen squared off and out her face only inches from his. "I'll say it nice and slow. You. Will need. My. Help. Does that bother you? Is your honorable soldier pride injured by my dishonest mercenary ways? Should I call momma commander to kiss it and make it better?"
That's it. He swung at the merc as hard as he could.
The blow stuck home. Arwen held her jaw as she righted her head. She massaged it for a moment, stretched it back and forth. Arwen smiled and spat a wad of blood at Carth's face and followed it up with a punch towards his gut.
Carth winced as the blood hit his cheek, disgusted by it. It was a good thing he was prepared for her blow, or he would have been winded hard. As it is Carth got nailed in the arm. He barely managed to shake off the pain for a sloppy punch to her face, trying to hide the second punch to her stomach.
Arwen sidestepped his first punch and was well out of the range of his second. She had her arms up, but swept a hard kick towards his legs instead.
Carth winced as the blow hit him, but absorbed it well and leaped forward to punch her again, this time rapidly following up with a jab to her kidneys.
Arwen deflected the first blow. Arwen didn't even see the second strike, yet she knew it was coming. Suddenly, it was as if Carth had become a perfectly open book. No, the whole cantina was. Arwen knew what everyone was going to do moments before they did it. She balked but then surged forward, trying to clap her hands on his shoulders so that she could yank him towards her rapidly rising knee.
He knew Arwen was a good fighter. It was what had allowed her to survive when so many on the Endar Spire died. It was why the republic had bothered to recruit a mercenary like her into the army in the first place. It was why he had chosen to put up with how grating she was despite his desire to ditch her and try to make it on his own.
None of that prepared him for just how fast she suddenly moved. If she'd been good before, she was now amazing. He had thought only jedi could move that fast. As it was he barely managed to grab her leg and start twisting it to the side, and he still absorbed a lot of the blow to his chest.
If he wanted to go down, they could go down. Arwen threw herself at Carth, grappling him as she brought her elbow down, intending to smash his head and maybe his nose if she hit him hard enough and it went into her raised leg.
Carth turned his head making the blow hit the side of his head, and brought up a fist to try and slam her in the gut as they rolled on the ground.
She saw it coming. She couldn't avoid it, not with the way the tight grabble they were in. So, instead, she hit back. Anything was a target. Anything was fair game. She just had to hit it.
For a while they just rolled back and forth, slugging at each other. Carth had to give it to her, she hit hard. He wasn't a veteran of the Mandalorian wars for nothing though. He kept going despite how much her blows hurt, hitting back wherever he could.
Both of them were getting battered. Frustrated, Arwen grabbed Carth's arm the next time he swung at her. She moved with almost impossible speed, wrenching his arm out straight and trapping it between her arms as she locked his head and other arm with her legs. Arwen pulled back, tightening the lock and hyper extending Carth's muscles. He wasn't going anywhere.
His muscles stung as she swung him into a lock he couldn't escape. Red in the face he cursed as loudly as he could, covering everything from what he thought of her mother to his opinions on her personal habits. Eventually however, he had to give up. She had him good, and nothing he tried was going to change that. Slumping he stared furiously at the ground.
Arwen just rolled her eyes and let him rage. She'd heard worse. Heck, she'd said worse about her mother. Finally, she felt him relax and Arwen released him.
The sensation was gone. That strange feeling of knowing without seeing. Arwen stumbled to her feet and stretched. Her mind went back to that feeling and she tried to call it again. Nothing. Just her normal self. Arwen's gaze was distant as she wondered what that was about. Maybe it was just her imagination, the adrenaline and the heat of the brawl getting to her head. Or she was going crazy. Scratch that, she already went crazy long ago so that was out.
"Tomorrow is gonna hurt," she mumbled to herself and stretched again. There was a sharp pain in her side and she wondered if she had cracked a rib.
Painfully he got up. Carth sighed. He shouldn't have let his temper get the better of him. They needed to find the other republic soldiers and work on escaping the sith controlled planet as soon as possible. His hopes to find Bastila were still there, as news of the death of a jedi would have been all over the planet. He just didn't know where to start. This swoop race was their best lead.
He spat some blood from his mouth onto the ground, and looked at Arwen. He sighed. "Let's just...get this over with," he grumbled.
"After you." Arwen was tempted to add 'Princess' but she didn't feel like getting any more snot beaten out of her. Carth, for as insufferable as he was, could hit well enough. Maybe even alright if she was going to be halfway honest with herself.