Trooping through the Upper City of Taris, I had to admit, our column looked rather impressive. I had armed everyone with standard sith weapons and armor, not anything amazing, but well above what street trash was likely to have. This time, the idiot guard presented no problems, saluting Lieutenant Sarna and passing us right through. I had even sliced into the sith's network using names officers data pad and listed us as new recruits. Robbum Blinde, Derk Sihde Suks, and Ceekret Jehdi. I never said they were good cover names, but they were amusing.

We rode the elevator down, and on the way I had everyone strip and change into standard armor and street clothes. It wouldn't do to attract unwanted attention, or scare off Bastila if she happened to see us. We were faithful little Republicans, here to save the day. Ugh. It was mildly sickening.

We hadn't gone far before we stumbled upon a little gang war. A group of nikto were taking down a group of mixed species, and while the other side was putting up a decent fight, the nikto clearly had the upper hand. In a few short seconds, the mixed gang was dead, and I raised my blaster and plugged one of the nikto in the back.

"Cut then down!" I shouted, and Sarna raised her blaster and put it on full auto, spraying down the criminals. Carth took care of the survivors with his barrage of blaster fire. Breni, force bless her, bent down and scavenged the bodies. I had never felt so proud of an apprentice. Why couldn't Malak have ever learned how to appreciate the finer things in life? Then he would have known better than to turn on me. Honestly, he had nearly as much power as I did, what more could the buffoon want?

I patted Breni's rear when she returned, grinning widely. "Excellent work, my young apprentice. We'll make a proper scoundrel out of you in no time!"

Blushing furiously ,Breni did her best to act indignant, but she really couldn't pull it off when holding a double armful of dead gangsters possessions. "I'm only taking the resources we need to find Bastila!"

I nodded sagely. "Of course. I'm sure your masters would be proud."

Hmm, that was a bit too far, now Breni really did look regretful. It was always tricky to judge just how far and how fast to press someone. Press too far too fast and you would have them turned against you forever. Go to slow and they would never be useful to you. A fine edge to walk.

I scooped the weapons and supplies out of Breni's arm and distributed them for the others packs. "Well come on, Bastila isn't going to find herself, and the sith are still out there looking for her."

Sarna nearly broke our cover, but managed to turn her nervous giggle into a cough. I would have to talk to her about that one. No, not torture her, talk. People respond remarkably well to a little positive reinforcement every once in a while. Torture should be reserved for avoidable acts of stupidity, not for minor screw ups or near misses. It's rather moronic to punish all failures equally.

We continued on to a cantina with a bouncer outside and stepped inside. This was a far seedier establishment then the one in the upper city. While the upper city establishment had smelled of smoke and liquor, this one smelled of stale beer and piss, with blaster scouring on the walls and flickering lights that had seen better days. The patrons smelled of sweat and drugs and there were as many aliens as humans. One man caught my eye though. His gear was worn, but well maintained and of high quality. He had thick goggles on, which I recognized as Czerka Multi-Spectrum Weakness Analyzers. Expensive gear. His pistols were holdouts like my own, but of much higher quality and caliber. Highly illegal too. That could mean only one thing: Calo Nord, an infamous bounty hunter who worked for the exchange. A dangerous man. I wondered if there was a way to turn him to my side, he could be a powerful ally.

Two rodians walked up and began to taunt Calo, but I ignored their words and focused on Calo. He was counting down, and I guessed he intended to end this confrontation in violence. Sure enough, when he reached the end of his count, he drew his blasters almost faster than the eye could see. If I had not been watching carefully, I think I would have missed it. There was no force trickery involved, Calo was just that good. In moments, both rodians were nothing but smears on the floor and there were new blaster scours on the cantina walls.

As Calo left, I stepped into his path with a wide grin. "Impressive work. Could I buy you a drink? I have a business preposition for you."

All Calo said was, "Three."

I frowned. This wasn't how I had pictured things going. "Now come my friend, surely we can talk business, there's no need to be rude."

"Two," the bounty hunter replied, unflinching.

Now I was angry. Here was more senseless, arrogant violence. It was idiocy like this that had lead to my apprentices betrayal. "Last chance Calo. Be reasonable, or pay the price."

"One."

I loosened the small blade I had stuffed up my sleeve and narrowed my eyes. "Zero."

Calo moved like lightening, but no one as better than the Dark Lord of the Sith. I sliced upward, aiming for Calo's jugular. He flinched back, just as I figured he would. The holdout blaster I had already drawn was pressed up against his belly. I fired three times.

Calo bucked, and blood frothed up on his lips. "Bad move," I hissed. "I hate arrogance." I brought my blade back around and I casually sliced Calo's juggular, letting him slide to the ground beside the rodians he had murdered seconds before.

The cantina was dead silent, all eyes were on me and my little band. I casually bent down and took Calo's two top of the line blasters, the grabbed his rather substantial credit chit and tossed it to the bartender.

"Sorry about the mess," I casually stated. "Drinks are on me."

A ragged cheer went up, and I led my group over to the bar where I began to drink moodily. My lot in life had rather changed recently. I had gone from being able to sit in the lap of luxery and enjoy all the pleasures of life the jedi order had denied me, to resorting to hooking up with desperate junior officers and getting in bar brawls. It was going to be a long, painful road back to the top, and I had thought I had surpassed the need for hard work. Reality was rather depressing.

"Wow, that was some pretty impressive stuff!" A chipper female voice said, sliding onto the seat behind me. "Calo Nord is the most dangerous bounty on the planet! You must be pretty tough if you can take him out."

I turned to see the smiling face of a fetching twilek who was a rather lovely shade of blue. Swallowing my self-pity, I gave her a dashing grin. "Oh, I just got lucky I guess. I've always been that way, lucky that is."

"I know what you mean, I've always been pretty lucky myself. My name's Mission Vao, what's yours?"

"Darth Revan." I said seriously. Behind me, I heard Breni begin to sputter and choke on her drink. Tch. The girl was far too high strung. We would have to see about loosening her up a bit soon.

For a moment, Mission and I regarded each other seriously, then both burst out laughing.

"Oh man," she gasped, wiping away a few tears, "that's pretty good. Darth Revan! Everyone knows he got killed by the jedi. That's why the sith have locked down the planet to find them."

I nodded. "Indeed. I'm Ferc Kyja. I'd be rather interested to hear about those missing jedi."

Mission shrugged and knocked back her shot. "Eh, I don't know too much about jedi, but I did hear that a pod crashed down in the undercity. Probably one of them sneaking around down there with the rakghouls."

"Rakghouls?" I asked, genuinely curious now.

"Yeah, ugly flesh eating mutants. If you get bit by one, they say you turn into one. The sith apparently have a cure for it though, but they're not handing it out to anyway."

A good plan. Personally, I would prefer to make as many credits off a cure as I could, and hold a cure in reserve for my own personnel. Perhaps I could see about weaponizing this rakghoul plague at some point. Might come in handy. However, the thought of Bastila being turned into a flesh eating mutant was not a pleasant one.

"Do you think the jedi might have gotten bitten by a rakghoul?" I queried.

Mission shook her head. "Naw, Big Z and I go down into the undercity all the time, and if you're smart and careful, rakghouls really aren't that dangerous."

"A cute little thing like you down there all alone? Sounds dangerous." I teasted.

Mission winked at me. "Hey, I'm fourteen, I can take care of myself. Besides, I've got Big Z with me. He can take any rakghoul."

Damn. Fourteen? You know, I have to draw the line somewhere, and pedophilia is where it is. Oh well, that didn't mean I couldn't find some use for this young twilek. "And who is this 'Big Z?'"

"Oh, that's him over there." Mission pointed to a wookie that was lurking in the shadows, keeping a watchful eye on his young charge. I waved merrily to him to show I meant no harm, and he glared right back.

Let me tell you something about wookies. They are big, they are strong, they are tough, and they are one of the more force resistant species I have encounter. A lot of people mistake them for barbaric savages, but the truth is you don't really need all that high a level of technology when you can literally rip a gamorian limb from limb. They're also quite a bit smarter then they look or sound. Just because someone can't speak Basic doesn't mean they are not fully capable of high level thinking.

I turned back to Mission. "Any idea how I could get down into the undercity?"

"Well, you might consider talking to Old Gadon. He's in charge of the Hidden Beks. He knows how to get around, and can probably help you out."

I nodded my thanks and stood, motioning to my companions. "Thank you Mission, that was rather helpful. Perhaps we shall meet again."

We left the cantina and made our way through the slums, occasionally being accosted my more nikto gang members. Really, it was rather silly of them. I mean honestly, we were possibly the most well armed party short of a sith commando unit to come through here with. Either the nikto were just stupid or suicidal. Still, I appreciated the contributions of the morons to our coffers, though I could have done without the singes to my tunic.

Before long I spied a building covered with gang markings identifying it as the hide out of the Hidden Beks. Though really, it was so gaudy they might as well have called themselves the "Obvious Beks" or the "We're right here Beks." It was covered with the neon colors of cheap spray paint in various slogans and mottos as well as the strange hand covering an eye sigil they seemed to favor.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" An armed guard demanded, waving a stun baton in our general direction.

"We were wondering if you would like to buy some Naboobian Spice Cakes to support your local Space Cadets," I answered.

The guard hesitated for a moment, her eyes darting back and forth between us. "If you're with the Vulcar's, clear out. You don't want the sort of heat we can bring down on your heads."

I nodded sagely. "Oh yes, your men seem rather adapt at dying. Though really, what I'm interested in is getting down to the Undercity and any information you have on any missing Republic troops. And especially jedi."

"And why should we help you?" The guard demanded, thrusting her jaw out obstinately.

"Because you're good citizens of the neighborhood?" I guessed, giving her a winning smile. "Or maybe because you hate the sith for cramping your style and we happen to have a mutual interest in seeing them out of your turf."

That last bit was a guess on my part. Most planets I conquered had gangsters like these who felt strongly about my troops going in to their territory. Normally I would convert or exterminate them as the situation demanded, but for now I was interested in being as much a thorn in Malak's side as possible.

"Hmph. If you are interested in helping us against the sith, go inside and speak to Gadon. But watch your smart mouth. I might tolerate it, but Gabon won't."

I bowed to hear and led my party forth. Glancing around, I could tell that the guard's threats were actually somewhat serious. There were definitely enough Beks here to wipe us out unless I busted out the lightsabers in my pack and went dark lord on everyone, but I had a feeling Malak would probably sense that and an orbital strike would follow up shortly thereafter. A losing proposition either way.

The man in charge was painfully obvious, sitting on a makeshift throne that appeared to be a converted swoopbike seat with a twilek bodyguard at his side. In fact, unless I was much mistaken, this was Gadon Thek, something of a hero during the Mandalorian war. His hit and run tactics against the Mandalorians had been inspired. While well equipped to deal with conventional forces, the Mandalorian's ritualistic and glory seeking approach to combat had left them vulnerable to feints, traps and guerrilla warfare. True they tended to respond to those things with excessive force, but if you were willing to stay mobile and not covet any particular terrain, those tactics would eventually grind the Mandalorian's into dust. I should know, it's how I beat them.

Fortunately, I had never actually met Gadon before, and any pictures he would have seen of me would have been with my trademark mask and cape. In hindsight, perhaps a somewhat more distinguishable profile would have been preferable.

I strode forward confidently, Carth and Sarna at my side. Around me the Beks readied themselves for war. Swoop bikes were being mounted with basters, vibroblades were being tested, and armor was being pieced together from bits of plasteel and durasteel. Either this gang war was more serious than I thought, or the Beks were about to take their conflict with the Vulkars to the next level.

"Gadon Thek?" I asked, layering my voice with plenty of enthusiasm tempered by respect.

The bodyguard moved to interpose herself. She was quite the looker, with lots of sleek muscle and movements that spoke of years of experience of all sorts. "Who are you? Why are you hear. No one gets near Gadon without my permission."

"Calm yourself Zaerdra!" Gadon barked. "I can't have you biting the heads off of anyone who walks in here."

"They might be with the sith, or even the Black Vulcars. You have a lot of enemies Gadon," Zaerdra proteted.

"To be fair, we are with this sith," I admitted. "Sort of."

Carth rolled his eyes. "Speak for yourself Ferc. I'm still loyal to the Republic."

"Oh yes, fidelity forever and all that," I agreed absently. "Point is, you look like your getting ready for war Gadon. And I happen to be in possession of several sith uniforms. Perhaps we can broker an exchange."

"How do we know-" Zaerdra began, but Gadon silenced her with a gesture.

"What do you mean, you're with the sith, and what do you want?" Gadon demanded.

I gave him a dashing smile. "Simple really. I want a way down into the undercity. Sarna here is a disgruntled sith defector, and we are poor beleaguered members of the Republic who had the misfortune to crash land on this planet. I've heard of you Gadon, you single handedly resisted the Mandalorians for months after the last official Tarisian forces surrendered. If I know you, you're trying to unite the gangs under your banner and start another of your famous campaigns. With my uniforms, I think you will have a starting block for the infiltration and sabotage you favor. All I ask in return is any information regarding Republic fugitives, especially jedi, and a way down into the undercity for myself and my companions."

Gadon's eyes narrowed, which was actually kind of hilarious, because he was obviously blind as a bat,. His furious glare was focused at a point about two feet to my left. Rather intimidating for my invisible friend George, but for me not so much. "You seem to know an awful lot about me. Who are you?"

"Just a simple smuggler who spends far too much time in cantinas." I repiled, giving the old man a grin he couldn't see out of habit. "Carth here is a Republic veteran, he told me of your exploits."

To his credit, Carth was able to play along with no problems. "Yes, heard about your resistance in the Republic army. You were one of the few factions to last any time at all after the initial Mandalorian invasion. Given enough time, you might even have successfully liberated your own planet."

"Only for the sith to come by and do the same thing a few years later," Gadon snorted. "Alright, let's say I believe you. Why do you want to go down into the undercity?"

"My fellow jedi, Bastila Shan's escape pod may have crashed there," Breni explained, and I closed my eyes in quiet frustration. That was not a card I would have liked to have on the table. "We seek to rescue her before the sith or another gang gets to her."

Gadon slowly shook his head. "I'm afraid you are too late. The sith have already been there, but they didn't find Bastila. The Vulcar's did."

I winced. "Let me guess, they either have her bottled up in a little fortress like this, or hidden somewhere it would take weeks for us to find?"

"That's pretty much it," Gadon agreed. "However, she is being offered as a prize in the Tarisian Season Opener. If you could win the opener, you would have your jedi."

I groaned. There are a great many things I excel at. Pazak, opening locked doors, killing things, sex, the force, and a thousand other minutia. Piloting vehicles is not one of them. In fact, I'm rather horrible at it. I am loath to admit it, but I actually get motion sick if I try and fly my own craft. It wasn't a big deal in the past, Malak or one of my other lackys always took care of that sort of thing, but now we were in a bit of a bind. Mostly because I already knew what Gadok's next request would be.

"Don't tell me," I sighed, "you want me to help you win the race. Probably by flying some sort of incredibly dangerous contraption."

Gadon smiled at Invisible George. "Sort of. I think we can both help each other. You see, we developed a prototype accelerator that would blow the competition out of the water. Unfortunately, the Black Vulkars found out and raided the warehouse where we were hiding it. If you could infiltrate their base and get it back for us, I'd let you use to win back your friend."

"The infiltrating bit we might can do," I allowed," but I don't have any experience as a pilot, and I doubt any of my companions are swoop bike aces."

"Um," Breni's voice began, and we all turned to look at the furiously blushing padawan. "Actually, I'm pretty good on a swoop bike. My old master used one to get around, and he taught me how to ride. I haven't competed in races or anything, but I can fly one."

"With your force abilities, you might have the edge over any other riders," Carth mused. "I can't swoop bike all that well myself, I get motion sick."

"Aren't you a pilot?" Sarna asked, frowning slightly. "What kind of a pilot get's motion sick?"

"Hey, it only happens I'm close to the ground," Carth protested. "I'm fine in a vacuum."

Ignoring my companions banter, I turned back to Gadon, who was still staring at George. "Well, it appears I do have a pilot. How do I get about infiltrating the Vulkar base?"

"Going through the front door would be suicide," Zaerdra explained. "You'll have to go in through the back way, down in the undercity sewers." Ah, lovely. Nothing says fun times like tromping through excrement of new and fascinating varieties. "However, the only one who knows how to get in that way is Mission Vao. She's probably down in the Undercity right now actually, she and her wookie companion spend a great deal of time scavenging down there. Foolish with all those rakghouls if you ask me, but then again I don't have a pet wookie."

"I actually ran into Mission earlier. I think I can enlist her aid without too much trouble." I mused.

Gadon smiled at George. Those two really seemed to get along. "Good, good. Now, if you'll just hand over those uniforms, I can give you some signed papers saying your civilians contractors authorized to go down into the undercity. That should get you by the guard."

"Where did you get your hands on those?" Sarna squawked. "They have to be signed by at least the garrison commander!"

I waved her to silence and drew out my uniform, motioning the others to do the same. "I'll gladly trade for that. Pleasure working with you."

Just as I turned to go, Gadon called after me, "Oh, and by the way. Interesting that the man who took down Calo Nord comes looking for a way to get back at the sith. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were hiding something."

With turning around, I answered, "I just don't like people who kill or hurt with no reason. That goes for the sith, and arrogant bounty hunters."

With that, I hurried out, not daring to looked behind me. For a blind man, Gadon seemed to see uncomfortably clearly. One we were outside, I examine the papers more closely. It was carte blanche to take a party into the Undercity along with salvage rights to boot. Not a bad find or trade, as I could always kill more sith and snag those uniforms.

"Well, I suppose that went well," Carth commented, extending his hand to take a look at the papers.

I passed them to him and cleared my throat. "Indeed. We might even have an ally in the Fairly Obvious Beks."

"The who?" Breni asked, glancing at the building behind us.

Sarna snorted and bit back a laugh. "Nice."
"I don't get it!" Breni insisted as we continued to walk.

"Did you notice them? The Beks I mean," Carth asked.

When Breni nodded, he smiled at her patronizingly. "Well, then they didn't do a very good job of hiding did they?"

For a moment, Breni blinked slightly, then blushed. "Oh. I see."

"Onward to the Undercity then!" I cried, linking arms with Breni and Sarna both. Breni didn't even resist this time, progress! "Mind the gap, and watch out for slobbering mutants. It will be just like that one time I was running guns on Corecant and ran into some Senators..."

Ugh. Actually, it was going to be far too much like dealing with Senators. One wrong step, and I'd get bitten and turn into a horrifying monster. Though I still would probably rather be a rakghoul than a politician.