The escape pod crashed through a balcony hanging off the side of the skyscraper, bounced off a large, fancy-looking airspeeder, smashed through a communications array on top of a shorter tower, bounced off another tower, before finally skidding the length of a large boulevard, bouncing off a rather shabby airspeeder, sending it careening down a side street, where it finished up by crashing into a large refuse bin.

Ashla staggered into the dilapidated apartment building, Carth and Trask weighing on her shoulders like two massive piles of durasteel bars. The circular corridor was dotted with blaster scars, piles of rubbish, holes with damaged circuitry hanging out of them, and other general property damage. There were no signs of life except for a green-skinned twi'lek snoring with his feet up on what might have once been some sort of reception desk.

Ashla dropped Carth and Trask onto an ancient, shredded couch and limped over to the desk.

"Help," she gasped. "We just… need somewhere to…"
The twi'lek's eyes snapped open, then widened in shock as the chair he was reclining on fell over with a crash. The twi'lek popped up from behind the desk again, took one look at her, then gulped.

"Ah." He said. "Yes, you do. Follow me."

He picked up Trask and unceremoniously dragged him to a door a little further down the corridor.

"You can have this room. Don't worry, the sith won't find you here," he said, then seemed to change his mind. "Well, they might come down here occasionally, but…"

"Is this place safe from the sith or not?" Ashla interrupted.

"Well, nowhere is really safe from those scum, but this is safe enough for now."

Ashla nodded, trying to ignore her growing headache, and dumped Carth on one of the beds.

The twi'lek lifted Trask onto the other bed, and turned to her. "The name's Larrim, by the way. I run a small store at my desk back there."

"I'm Ashla."

"Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too."

Larrim nodded, and turned towards the door.

"So, what do you have at your shop?" she asked.

"Oh, just some low-quality black market equipment and weapons. I can't get anything better with the sith everywhere," he replied as he left the room, returning a few minutes later with a bundle of clothes.

"Here, you'll need these. I see you have weapons, so anything else you want from my shop, you'll have to buy." He handed her the clothes and turned to leave again.

"Wait," Ashla blurted.

Larrim stopped. "Yes?"

"Why are you helping us?"

Larrim sighed. "I'm not doing this for your war and I'm certainly not taking sides. I'm doing this because I'd do the same for anyone in your situation, regardless of what side of the war they're on. I'm doing this because I know that the governments are the ones who want the war, not the people. Especially not the conscripts."

What? How did he… "How do you know I was conscripted?" she inquired.

"You live and work on the other side of the law, you learn to read people, or you end up dead. Down here, knowledge is power, and often life."

Ashla shrugged. "I'll remember that."

"Good. It will keep you alive longer." Larrim replied. The door shut behind him as he made his way back to his shop.

After the door closed behind Larrim, Ashla quickly changed into some of the clothes he had given her—tight black pants, black boots, a white sleeveless shirt, and a long brown leather coat—before placing the other clothes beside the beds and checking on her two unconscious crewmates. Fortunately, Trask was uninjured, but Carth had a nasty head injury that had probably given him a concussion. Sighing, she sat down on the couch, sitting her blaster rifle down next to her. Fighting against the exhaustion engulfing her entire body. Have to stay awake, remember? Have to keep an eye out for the sith, have to…

After the pain and insanity of the past few hours, sleep was almost blissful.

Someone was screaming at her.

"Wake up!"

Ashla tried to focus on the voice. It sounded like hers.

"Wake up! Remember who you are!"

"What…" She tried to reply. "Who are you? What do you mean?"

"You have to remember who you are!" the strange voice urged. "You are not a republic soldier! Remember your other life! Your real life! Before they took your memory! Wake up"

The other… presence… seemed to reach for her. "You know nothing of who you are, not even your real name. REMEMBER!"

The presence solidified into a constellation of swirling dark and light standing in a grey haze. Images burst through her mind. Ships exploding, lightsabers flashing, blasters screaming, a man in mandalorian armor removing his mask and letting it fall to the ground, a woman in black armor removing a different mask and letting it fall to the deck of a ship. A strange mandalorian symbol hanging on a silver chain. A name, a face—

A different presence approached.. This one was a burning vortex of light that felt somehow… wrong. Empty. Dead. The constellation-like presence shrank back, hiding away from it, but lingered long enough for one final plea.

"Remember, Jessa…"

"THERE IS NO EMOTION, THERE IS PEACE" The empty presence blared. Its voice was more prim, snooty, and arrogant.

"THERE IS NO—"

The arrogant voice suddenly cut off as if it had run into an invisible wall, and the presence projecting it vanished, a fact Ashla was extremely grateful for. It had felt so empty and yet so full of itself. In its absence, a new strength and awareness filled her. The other presence cautiously reappeared.

"Did you get rid of it?" Ashla asked it.

"No. It was blocked from your mind. I will teach you how to do that when there is time, but now, you must WAKE UP!"

Ashla jerked awake with a gasp.

"What…Who?" There was a thud, and no small amount of cursing from one of the bedrooms.

"Hello?"

Ashla got to her feet, noticing as she did so that her wounded arm hurt less and she felt more alive and energized.

Trask stumbled out of the room. "Ashla…?"

"We're in an abandoned apartment," she told him. "It's safe here, for now."

Trask looked around thoughtfully. "Right. And where's the captain?"
"Sleeping off a concussion, I think… how are you?"

"I'll do." Trask rolled his shoulders experimentally. "You alright?"

"I think so," Ashla muttered. "In fact, I feel pretty beaten up, but, somehow, better that ever. Like I'm more alive than I used to be. Like my mind was tightly wrapped up in cloths and now it's not. I don't get it. And I had a really weird dream that didn't feel like a dream."

Trask looked at her carefully. "You don't look any different, except for your eyes. They look… I don't know… more alive. But, we'll worry about this if it becomes a problem. So, what have we got. What can we do from here?"
Ashla shrugged. "Well, we've got the sith ruling the planet, 500 credits, two blaster rifles, two blaster pistols, four vibroblades, a helpful black market arms dealer/philanthropist who might be able to help us, Captain Carth Onasi and his two blaster pistols, no way off the planet, a lot of anti-sith-anti-republic sentiment on said planet, some civilian clothes, and the two of us. Oh, and no word on any of the jedi."

Trask shrugged. "They're probably hiding somewhere, unless of course they made it out of the system or died trying. What did you say about an arms dealer?"

Ashla and Trask stopped in front of Larrim's desk. "Hello again."

"Looking to buy something?" the twi'lek asked nonchalantly.

"Yes," Ashla replied. "We need some spare blaster pistol and rifle ammo, some light or medium armor for 3 people, and some medical supplies."

"Is that all?"

Ashla was about to reply when a memory rose up that, strangely enough, felt more like it was part of her than anything else she could remember. Well, except for that dream. "And a double-bladed vibrosword, if you have one."

Larrim shrugged. "Well, I just so happen to have some of those as well. Excuse me while I get your purchases."

Larrim returned, shutting the door behind his desk. "Here you go. That's 50 credits each for the two light armor vests, 100 for the medium armor vest, and 50 for the ammo and medical supplies."

"We'll take it," Ashla said. "Thank you, Larrim."

"A pleasure doing business with you." Larrim replied graciously.

Carth woke up with a groan. His head hurt like nothing else and he appeared to be alone in a dingy apartment. His blasters, fortunately, were sitting next to the bed. He grabbed them and slipped them back into their holsters, relishing the familiar weight. He then drew them immediately as a door hissed, or more accurately clanked open in the next room. Pressing his ear to the door, he could hear snatches of a conversation.

"—think the Captain's woken up yet?" A vaguely familiar voice said.

"One way to find out," another voice, this one female, answered. Carth opened the door before their footsteps could reach it, and snapped his blasters up to point at them. The two ensigns who had been in the escape pod with him stepped back in surprise, and the woman, Ensign Deran if he remembered correctly, lashed out with a sweeping kick that sent his blasters flying across the room before stepping back even further with an even more surprised expression on her face.

"Oh, uh… sorry sir, I…"

Carth smiled. "It's ok, I was the one pointing a blaster at you. I should apologize. That was a pretty impressive kick, by the way."

She shrugged irreverently. "I guess it was. Thanks."

"Sir, do you feel alright?" the male ensign—Trask Ulgo—asked.

"Well, I have a headache the size of a small star, and more bruises than I can count, but I'll be fine." Carth answered. "What's the situation?"

Ashla answered him. "We've been here for a few days, you've been out for most of it. We don't know if there are any other survivors. We managed to get some medical supplies and armor from a black market dealer, and some food from a nearby cantina."

"So no word on Bastila, then?" Carth asked quietly.

"The padawan who took over your command? No." Trask replied.

"We have to find her!" Carth exclaimed, alarmed.

"Oookkaayyy…why? She's a Jedi. While I don't respect their philosophy, I respect their combat skills. She can take care of herself." Ashla answered.

"She's vitally important to the war effort!" Carth groaned. "And now she's missing on a sith-controlled planet?"

"Ok, ok, fine. We get it. This Jedi is important." Ashla sighed. "From what we know, most of the escape pods crashed into the Undercity or the Lower City. We were lucky enough to hit the Upper City. So that's where we should start looking."

Carth sighed, remembering what he knew of Taris and its multilevel society. "Ok, let's get going. The sooner we find her; the sooner we can get off this rock."

"Don't forget about Master Rae and Master Shakora," Ashla reminded him, pulling on the medium armor vest on over her shirt and then replacing her coat over it. "If we're looking for Jedi, we should find them as well."

"Let's get going." Trask said eagerly, grabbing a light armor vest and tossing the other one to Carth, along with some of the spare ammo and a vibroblade.

Ashla stuck her vibroblades through her belt, holstered her blaster pistol, and picked up her blaster rifle. Trask did the same with his blasters and vibroblade. Carth stuck his vibroblade through his belt, picked up his blasters, and the three of them left the apartment.