Choices

by Relena Mishima

AU. Building a new personality to replace an existing one is difficult, even for Jedi. What if Revan's mind was intact when he was captured? When he remembers who he is, will he rise anew as the Dark Lord, or will he make different choices this time?

4. Descent into the Dirt

Disclaimer: Star Wars and associated characters aren't mine. As if you didn't already know that.

In case it's not clear: "whatever" is talking, 'whatever' is thinking, /whatever/ is Wookie language.

In the Endar Spire's mess hall Carth Onasi looked around. He was about to sit at an empty table when he saw a different opportunity: Bastila Shan was sitting alone. 'So that's the Jedi Poster Girl. Suppose I may as well see what she's all about. At least see if she's just some pretty face for recruiting posters or not. Be nice to know if she's going to get us all killed or not, after all.'

Carth walked to a seat next to Bastila. "Is this seat taken?"

Bastila looked up at Carth. "Not at all, Commander…?"

'Well she can read Republic rank insignia at least,' Carth thought to himself. "Onasi. Carth Onasi. Please, just Carth is fine."

"Bastila Shan." Bastila offered a hand to Carth, who shook it and sat down. "I've read your file, Carth. A rather impressive record."

"Thank you. You of course, have a record that put me to shame."

"Yes, through the Force I have amassed significant victories."Bastila coolly praised herself.

'Seriously?'' Carth wondered. 'This girl's barely old enough to not be called a schoolgirl and already she has an attitude like that? What were the Jedi thinking putting her in charge of this mission?'

"And so modest too. I see killing Revan and getting on all those recruitment posters did wonders for that famous Jedi modesty." Carth mocked.

Bastila glared at Carth and coldly replied. "Revan is not a subject I care to discuss, Commander."

Carth blinked in surprise. "Um, okay, sure, no problem. Didn't mean anything by it." Carth trailed off, letting the conversation die.

A few silent moments passed before Carth looked over at Bastila again, to find her staring at something behind him, looking like an enraged rancor. Carth quickly looked around, trying the find the object of Bastila's repugnance. The only person who could possibly be the target was a new crew member, Lieutenant Mylan Delwynn.

'That guy? The Jedi were the ones who put that guy on this ship. Why is their poster girl so pissed at him? That look is way past just annoyance or rivalry or something like that. She looks like she wants to outright kill him here and now. I didn't think Jedi were even allowed to look at someone like that.'

"Um, Commander Shan, is um, something wrong?" Carth haltingly asked.

"No, I am quite fine, thank you. Why do you ask?" Bastila looked at Carth, her previous expression completely gone.

"Well, when you looked at that new lieutenant you looked like you wanted to toss him out an airlock."

"Your point, Commander?"

Carth broke out into a bit of a sweat. Playing dumb had its limits. "I may not be the captain of this ship, but I'm high ranking enough to know how that guy got here. He's one of yours;he's here by orderof the Jedi. So you can stop acting, I know he's with you."

"He absolutely is not 'with me' as you so glibly put it!" Carth stared, taken aback by the sudden emotion in Bastila's voice. "And just because the Jedi Council ordered his presence here does not mean I approve. Now I will thank you to keep out of business that does not concern you. All you need know is that he is here, I am here and that is how it will remain no matter what any of us may want." Bastila stood up. "If you will excuse me, Commander."

Bastila stormed out of the room, leaving Carth to stare, wondering what just happened.

The Endar Spire rocked violently, jarring Mylan from his sleep. He looked around, eyes quickly drawn to the opening door. Some fool in a Republic uniform came in, babbling about an attack. Truly mastering the obvious there.

Mylan largely tuned the man our as he grabbed a vibro blade from his foot locker, but something stood out. A name: Bastila Shan. Something about it felt familiar, close, but Mylan couldn't quite grasp much as Mylan wanted to ponder the matter more, he couldn't; the battered ship and his annoying and insistent bunk mate wouldn't let him.

The two of them started making their way through the ship. The only escape pod left was on the opposite side of the ship and the only route not cut off required going the length of the ship through the bridge, so it was a bit of a walk.

There was no shortage of Sith troops on the ship, but Mylan handled them with practiced ease. He couldn't remember a time he couldn't use a blade, but for every Sith he cut down he couldn't escape a nagging sensation that his form was off. Something about the blade of this vibro sword kept throwing him off. Another mystery to ponder later.

The only real potential problem came when trying to leave the bridge and a door opened, revealing a Sith Force user. Mylan's bunk mate (whose name he hadn't bothered to remember) ran off on a suicide charge to save Mylan. However brave it might have been, stupid still summed that action up better as far as Mylan was concerned.

Near the escape pods a Republic officer who called himself Carth Onasi came on the ship's monitors to try and guide Mylan the rest of the way. Mylan didn't mind the help, even if it felt a bit like he was being babysat.

Finally Mylan reached Carth and the escape pods. "There's one pod left, and we have to go." Carth nodded to the lone remaining escape pod. The two quickly boarded and launched, beginning their rapid descent to the planet Taris, far below.

Unfortunately the flight was less than pleasant. Carth took the controls of the pod, but just seconds after launch things went wrong, as evidenced by the large number of flashing red lights and sirens. "The Endar Spire just blew and the shockwave's done some bad stuff to the pod. This is gonna get ugly." Carth announced.

True to Carth's prediction the pod's descent became increasing erratic as it hit the atmosphere. Mylan retightened the straps holding him in place. The pod was hardly built for comfort, but given the alternative of having stayed on the ship, the bumps and bruises of a rough ride seemed a wonderful trade.

The pod broke through the low clouds of Taris, with the spires of city alarmingly close. "Hang on!" Carth yelled, but the warning was for naught. The pod hit the side of a building, bouncing hard in the opposite direction. The impact knocked several cabinets inside open, including one above Mylan's head. The first aid supplies inside flew out onto Mylan's head and everything went black.

Mylan slowly awoke from a stream of nightmares that felt like they had gone on for days. He looked around, finding he was both in an unfamiliar room and had a headache. The headache was a truly miserable one, and the room was a small run down rat hole of an apartment filled only with a few pieces of abandoned furniture, himself and Carth. "What the hell happened?"

"The landing was rough. Real rough. You hit your head on the way down. Or maybe it was one of the bounces... The pod finally landed on a terrace in the UpperCity and I managed to find this place and carry you here before we the Sith got to us." Carth answered, sitting on what passed for a chair.

"You had time to explore, find an apartment and drag me here?" Mylan rubbed his temples. "How long was I out?"

"Today's the third day."

"Three days? What the kriff happened to me?" Mylan sat up, quickly wishing he hadn't as the room began to spin. "And you didn't think a doctor was a good idea?"

"Sith are all over the place now, and I think they'd notice me carrying you across town to the free clinic. Besides, I was busy with the realtor. Finding a gem of a place like this takes time you know."

"Yeah, I can imagine."

"Ah, you like it?" Carth gestured grandly around the apartment. "Decorator's coming in tomorrow. I was thinking going for a Nouveau Coruscant style. It's a little pretentious, but a place like this can carry it off I think."

"Oh yeah, definitely. This place just has endless potential." Mylan slowly got to his feet and used the wall for support as he took a few hesitant steps. "So what's the plan now?"

"We find Bastila. The Sith set up a blockade of this world, so she's still here, somewhere."

There was that name again. Mylan really wanted to find the time to try and figure out what it was about it that felt so odd, but once again, it was a luxury he couldn't afford at the moment. "I don't suppose we're lucky enough for there to be some Jedi temple or church or whatever they use on this world? You know, one stop shopping for Jedi?"

Carth snorted and shook his head. "I wish."

"So how bad a search are we looking at?" Mylan found his weapons near a workbench and looked them over, searching for signs of damage.

"It's bad. If her pod landed on the UpperCity like ours did I'd have found her by now; I haven't. That means it fell deeper, either Lower City or even worse, the Under City."

The names didn't mean a thing to Mylan, but he knew he'd learn about them soon enough. "So what's our next move?"

"Now we've got a couple problems to deal with. First off, access to lower parts of Taris is restricted. And it's Sith doing the restricting, not just locals. Also, we aren't exactly overflowing with credits. We have enough to eat, but that's about it."

"So it's the local cantina then."

"What?" Carth blinked, staring at Mylan.

"There's always money to be made at a Cantina. And if we want to move around the city, there's bound to be others who do too. And since they can't, they'll be commiserating at the local cantina. It should be easy enough to find whoever's crying into their drink and listen in to whoever offers a solution."

As it turned out, finding a person who looked unhappy to be on Taris wasn't the problem at the cantina. Everyone was very obviously dejected, and none too subtle about it. After all a bar is a misery magnet.

Mylan looked around the room quickly before turning back to Carth. "Why don't you go get a drink at the bar, see what you can hear. You probably can pass for a privateer or smuggler, just say you're ex military or something. "

"That's true. You can tell a vet pretty fast; especially from the hair." Carth agreed.

Splitting off from Carth, Mylan looked around the room. 'Who to pick? First off, someone alone. You don't go to a bar alone wanting to stay that way. Career criminals will be too paranoid. A girl though… Trying to pick up a girl will blend right in.'

It didn't take long from Mylan to spot someone who fit the bill: a woman sitting alone at a table near the entrance. She certainly pretty enough (as much as anyone can look to a sober person in a dark, smoke filled cantina) with swept back blonde hair, an attractive face and a drink in her hand that didn't look to be her first.

Mylan walked up to the girl, giving her his best smile. "Is this seat taken?"

The woman looked up at him, surprised."What? No, it isn't." Mylan sat, letting the girl look him over. "You actually want to sit with me?"

"Of course. Who wouldn't want to sit with a pretty lady like you?"

"I'm a Sith. We're not exactly the most popular here."

"Ah, I see." Mylan nodded in understanding. "Well, I hardly think that's your fault. You didn't order the blockade, did you?"

"Of course not! I'm not even with any of the ships in orbit. I'm assigned to the Sith base here. Besides, I didn't even ask to be assigned here in the first place"

"Exactly, no one asked to be stuck here. We all just need to make the best of it." Mylan agreed.

"Finally! Someone with a positive attitude. I'm Sarna by the way." She offered her hand across the table to Mylan, who shook it.

" to meet you, Sarna."

"Believe me, the pleasure is all mine. It's not often I get to talk to someone who doesn't hate me just because of my job." Sarna checked her watch. "Damn, I have to go on shift. Listen, if you're free tomorrow, some of us Sith junior officers are throwing a party."

"Sounds ?"

"1700, as soon as we get off shift we're heading straight there."

"Great. Tell me where and I'll be there."

Sarna smiled at Mylan and gave him the location before rushing off for her duty shift. Mylan smiled for an entirely different reason and got up, looking for Carth. He wasn't hard to find; he was the uptight military man in a bar filled mostly with criminals. Mylan tapped him on the shoulder and motioned to the door. Carth took the hint and the two headed outside.

Once they were safely out of the cantina, Carth turned to Mylan. "So, what's up?"

"I managed to get an invite to a Sith party tomorrow." Mylan grinned.

"What do you mean a Sith party? You do know which side you work for, don't you?"

"Oh come on, Carth, think about it. Who do you want to party with? Jedi who cut loose by taking off their drag outer robes and going around in their drab under robes, or some Sith who'll really make it a night worth remembering?"

"That's not the point! We're Republic soldiers; they're the enemy. You don't fraternize with the enemy." Carth waved his arms, whether in frustration or somehow trying to make his point stronger, Mylan wasn't sure. Either way, Carth was on a roll. "Aid and comfort to the enemy. That term ring a bell for you?"

Mylan sighed. "Carth. Stop and listen a moment. This party is right after Sarna and her friends get off shift. As in they're going straight there. Or to be more specific, they aren't stopping at their barracks to change out of their armor."

Carth looked almost literally as if a light bulb had just appeared above his head. "So we go there and steal Sarna's uniform!"

"Actually, I think it'll be a bit small, but I'm hoping she has bigger friends, but if you want to try hers…"

"All right, fine." Carth didn't take the bait. "So that's one problem solved. In the meantime, we should use the rest of today to handle our money problem I think."

Mylan spent the rest of the day and most of the next gambling and fighting in a local dueling ring to make money. Some of the time Carth was with him, some he was off helping the locals.

Certainly Mylan would agree that helping people was a good thing, but Carth seemed particularly determined to do it; and not just do it, do it by the book. Some random person who couldn't pay protection money to a local criminal to Mylan would have been an exercise in kicking in a door, but Carth refused to play the vigilante. He filled in for an extra shift at a restaurant where the poor local worked and actually earned the money flipping burgers.

In a younger man, Mylan would have called it naive, but you didn't get to be a commander in the Republic Navy without having seen more than enough to know how the galaxy really worked. No, Carth wasn't naïve, he was a true believer in law and order. In a way Mylan almost admired it, even if he did think it was a foolish way to go through life.

Finally, the appointed hour came and Mylan and Carth headed for the party, making a stop along the way to pick up some Tarisian ale for their gracious hosts. And, as Mylan reminded Carth, if he ever had guilt issues about stealing clothes from the Sith, he could tell himself the ale was a form of at least get drunk enough to forget who he was drinking with.

By the time Carth and Mylan got to the party, it was well underway.

"Oh, you made it!" Sarna greeted them with a large wave and a slightly drunken slur. "I'm so glad you could come! Some new people around are always nice. The same old bunch just gets so boring."

"Of course I came. I told you I would, and I'd never lie to a pretty lady." Mylan gave Sarna his best smile as he went inside and had a drink quickly put into his hand.

Over the next several hours Mylan carefully nursed his drink while doing his best to make sure the Sith drank themselves silly. Eventually the last few conscious partygoers staggered out for their barracks, leaving behind loud music, a significant mess and several passed out Sith.

Mylan, who had managed to keep himself to a semi sober state got to his feet and looked over to Carth. "See, that wasn't so bad, was it, Carth?"

Carth looked around, clearly relieved that only he and Mylan were left standing. "Are you kidding, I spent the past who knows how long getting hit on by Sith! Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep putting them off when they're too drunk to take a hint? Every girl except for your friend seemed to think I looked like I needed to hook up with them and weren't shy about saying it."

Mylan broke up laughing, falling over back into his chair."Carth the Sith Chick Magnet; oh that's just too good."

"Hey, don't start;don't even think about it! Nicknames like that can follow a guy all his life. Let's just try and find some armor and get going. We have a job to do after all."

"Fair enough. I'd rather get Bastila and get off this rock than have a cheap laugh anyway." Mylan climbed out of his chair again and headed for a corner of the room where he'd seen several Sith dump their armor into a pile. A few minutes later, he and Carth were dressed in Sith armor that fit well enough and headed for the elevator to the Lower City.

The Lower City was a poorly lit, dingy place that seemed to have more thugs than almost anything else. None were any real threat to Mylan and Carth, but they made for slow going in a very large area. Eventually they decided to go with the same plan as they had in the Upper City: go to the local cantina and look for leads.

The Cantina was all you'd expect from one in a part of town like the Lower City. Only the best frequented this poor excuse for a bar. There was the tough mercenary, the local thugs who tried to take him on and lost, the slutty Twi'lek girls on stage, the drunken bums who used their last credit to pay for the drink in front of them, and one odd pair who caught Mylan and Carth's attention: a teenage looking Twi'lek girl and a Wookie.

Mylan walked over to the girl, with Carth just a step behind. She looked the two over. "You're new here, aren't you?"

"What makes you say that?" Carth asked, defensive over how obviously true it was.

"You just look it. You're too neat and tidy. Well, I guess that makes Big Z and I your Lower City Welcoming Committee. Hi, I'm Mission, Mission Vao. And that's Zaalbar. So what brings people like you two down here?"

"We're looking for crashed Republic escape pods." Mylan's statement got him an elbow to the ribs.

"What do you think you're doing? We can't tell people that!" Carth whispered.

"Why not? There's not exactly a subtle way to do it, and even if there were, we don't have the time. We want to do this fast, that means we have to take some risks." Mylan replied.

"Crashed escape pods?" Mission asked, choosing to ignore Carth and Mylan's exchange. "I haven't come across any, but you should ask the Hidden Beks about it, they may know more than me. They're one of the swoop gangs here in the Lower City."

The Hidden Beks proved paranoid, but after some talking, willing to help. Of course, like everything on Taris, that help came with a price: a rival gang had stolen a swoop bike engine and Mylan and Carth agreed to get it back. Once they had it, Mylan would drive in a race where Bastila was being put up as the prize.

Getting the engine part was no simple matter; the only way in was through the sewers, which were at the absolute lowest levels of Taris, part of the actual foundations of the vast city above.

As it turned out Mission Vao, while young, was also the best guide through the sewers, so her services were promised. But even this proved not to be as simple as it sounded: Zaalbar, Mission's Wookie friend had been abducted by Gamorreans who made their lair in the sewers.

The trio was nearing what Mission claimed was a sewer entrance when Carth called a halt.

"Hold up, I hear something."

"A rakghoul?" Mylan suggested, referring the gray monsterswho seemed to make this area their home.

"No, it sounds like voices."

As if to confirm Carth's assessment, Several armed humans came around one of the footings of the great buildings of Taris. One pointed his rifle at the trio before another, presumably the leader intervened. "What do you think you're doing, idiot?" The leader slammed his hand down on the barrel of the rifle, moving it so that it aimed down into the dirt.

"That's Canderous Ordo, one of Davik's men." Mission whispered.

"They obviously aren't rakghouls." Canderous continued. "Whatever the hell they're doing here, you should save your ammo for real threats."

"What we're doing here is none of your business." Carth replied.

Canderous shrugged. "It's no skin off my back. Davik has us here collecting salvage from those Republic escape pods, not information. Waste of damned time if you ask me though. These kids he sent with me have no business here. We started with eighteen. Now there's six left. Forget carrying junk back, we'll be lucky to get home without losing more."

"Canderous! Look!" One of Canderous' panicked men pointed. A half dozen rakghouls were rushing at the assembled group from the direction the man pointed.

Everyone with a gun opened fire. Canderous' men fired almost wild, being so haggard and panicked as to only manage to shoot in the general direction of the threat. Canderous' shots, however, were both fast and accurate, matching Carth for lethality. Mission, for her part, was better than the minions Canderous led, but her shooting was that of an untrained amateur, not the efforts of a professional soldier.

Mylan, having no pistol simply stood and watched the slaughter. There was enough ground between the group and the rakghouls that they never had a chance to close the distance and soon were laying dead in the mud.

The encounter was totally one sided, but Canderous had had enough."That's it, enough of this kriffing job. We're out of here. Davik isn't paying enough for this." Canderous turned and began leading his men off, muttering under his breath. "I'm reduced to this. From the Mandalorian War to babysitting. Pathetic."

Once the mercenary and his men were gone, Mission turned to Mylan. "Hey, you want a gun or something? I have two, I can loan you one if you want."

"No, I'm fine thanks."

"You sure? Just a sword seems kind of risky to me."

"Yeah, I agree." Carth added. "You're a lieutenant; you've been trained in firearms, so why not use one?"

"I don't know." Mylan shrugged. "Sword just feels more natural, that's all."

"Sure you wouldn't rather have a light saber?" Carth inquired.

"A light saber? Why? I thought only Jedi use those?"

"Well they did assign you to this mission…"

Mylan stopped and looked at Carth. "What do you mean they assigned me to this mission?"

"The order to put you on the Endar Spire, it came from the Jedi council, I think the Dantooine one. Didn't you know?"

"No, I didn't…"

"Interesting." Carth muttered, more to himself than Mylan.

The sewers were all that Carth and Mylan had expected them to be: filled with water, a seemingly endless putrefied stench, and Gamorreans. The first two problems there was no answer for. The third, however was more readily handled. Mylan's uncanny skills with a blade, Carth's accuracy with a blaster and Mission's enthusiasm had been more than enough to handle the meager numbers of Gamorreans they had encountered so far.

After a long series of stench filled rooms, fighting and some creative repairs of a droid they found along the way, they came to a door that stood out.

"This door's different than the others. It's got a manual lock on it." Mylan announced.

"Manual lock?" Carth asked. "You mean an actual physical mechanism, no computers?"

"How do we open it? Explosives maybe?" Mylan pondered aloud.

"Geez, you guys haven't ever seen a genuinely locked door before?" Mission asked, looking between Carth and Mylan, rolling her eyes. "You just need to pick the lock, it isn't hard. Gimmie a minute here."

Mission fiddled with the lock for a time, inserting various pieces of scrap metal she insisted were actually tools called picks, and then suddenly the door opened (much to Carth and Mylan's surprise.) Inside what obviously had been the Gamorreans' improvised jail cell was Zaalbar, whom Mission immediately ran to embrace.

"Big Z! You're all right!"

/Yes, Mission, I'm fine. You and your friends got to me in time. Who are they?/

"That's Carth and Mylan. We met them in the cantina in Lower City, remember?"

/It's because of them that I was saved from a life of slavery. Mission, please tell them I wish to swear a life debt to them./

"A life debt? Are sure Big Z? That's pretty big stuff…"

/I am sure Mission./

Mission turned to Mylan. "Big Z wants to swear a life debt to you."

Mylan raised a hand to stop Mission. "It's all right Mission, I can understand Shyriiwook."

"Wow, really? Then you know what a life debt is too?"

Mylan nodded. "Yes, I understand what it is and what it means."

"Well I don't." Carth interrupted.

"Don't worry too much about it, Carth. I got this."

Zaalbar stepped forward towards Mylan. /You save me from an unimaginable life of slavery. In return I swear a life debt to you, Mylan./

Mylan bowed to Zaalbar. "I solemnly accept this vow."

Carth loudly cleared his throat. "Um, this is all nice and everything, but I think we probably should be going. We still have someone to save, and I believe you promised to lead us into the Vulkar base, Mission."

"Right, no problem! It's not far, through a few tunnels and passages, then past the rancor and we're in!" Mission smiled cheerfully.

"What, what? You didn't say anything about a Rancor, Mission! How do you leave something like that out?!" Carth stammered.

"Well you didn't ask; you can't blame me for that! If you'd said 'Hey Mission, are there any rancors we'll be coming across?' then I'd absolutely have told you. If you're not happy it's totally your fault for not asking the right questions."

Carth stared, dumbfounded. Mylan grinned and slapped him on the back. "Looks like she got you there. So if our business here is finished, I'd say it's time we got going."

Mylan's grin worked to tease Carth, but it had little to do with what Mylan was really thinking. 'A rancor; a god damned rancor. How does that get left out of the description? It isn't the sort of thing someone just gets quietly; the damned gang had to know about this.'

'Damned cowards; they send us, disposable outsiders to either die or deal with the rancor for them. A no lose situation for them. Bastards. They don't seem to give a damn that a fourteen year old girl can die here either.'

'It's amazing, on this entire crap world the Sith chick who invited us to that party was about the only one who wasn't absolute scum.'

Several dozen sewer tunnels later the group came to a stop before a large room. Despite the obviously ominous noises coming from inside, no one could resist a look to see the massive rancor beast within.

"We couldn't have caught it at nap time, could we?" Carth lamented.

"It's obviously too big to fight. Mission, how in the hell did you ever get past that damned thing?" Mylan asked.

"Well, I have a stealth field generator belt; that makes it real easy. But it only works on me."

"And what the hell did you think we were going to do, Mission?" Carth's composure started to break. "You knew this was here all along and you didn't say a thing. Oh sure, you can get past but we're all rancor food here! Just like every person on this planet there's always some vital detail you leave out, something you want done, some sort of angle."

"Hey, you're the ones who absolutely had to get into here. And it's not like I wanted Big Z to get kidnapped. Besides, if I had told you from the start there was a rancor here, would it have made any difference at all?"

"Enough!" Mylan yelled, raising his voice above Carth and Missions. Unfortunately, it was also loud enough to get unwanted attention in the form of an angry roar from the rancor.

'Damn, Carth's hitting his limits here; I can't say I blame him either. This damned world just has no end to crap, to people playing angles, no end to dirt or poverty or in general pretty much everything that can make a planet suck.'

Fear of the rancor put an quick end to the rising tempers of the group. After a few quiet minutes making sure the beast wasn't too interested in the small corridor they were in Zaalbar suggested dousing some sort of scent rancors actually liked on a grenade and coaxing the beast to eat it.

It was quickly obvious the only one who could carry out the plan was Mission. Partly because of the fact that her stealth field generator was a belt that was too small to fit anyone else, partly because she insisted so strongly that she be allowed to do it.

'I wonder if she's feeling guilty. To her she's just done what she has to to survive; what everyone else does, but after Carth of all people losing it maybe it finally occurred to her how bad things are and how far gone she is.'

Mission disappeared from view. A few moments later the rancor found sudden interest in something, quickly eating it. It took just a second for the freshly consumed grenade to detonate. The beast's skull contained enough of the blast that there wasn't much mess, but there was no doubt that it was dead. A grinning Mission reappeared, posing in triumph.

'On the other hand, maybe she just wanted to show off. I'd like to think it might be a bit of both.'

The rancor was the last obstacle between the group and the Black Vulkar base, which proved to be relatively lightly guarded, and thankfully dry and sewage free. A combination of the group's combat prowess and Mission's surprising skills with computers put the engine part in their hands in practically no time.

Getting back was no problem, and the Hidden Beks assured the group the part would be installed and ready for the race tomorrow.

The seemingly interminable day was finally over. The group that had started as a pair now was a foursome, and the search for Bastila that had begun as a vague investigation finally had the exact time and place she would be, and now a means to liberate her.

The morning of the swoop race came, and Mylan made sure to be there early. His companions were forced to stay in the viewing area while Mylan raced, so he would have to face whatever lay ahead alone.

He walked to the registration desk, but found himself unable to make it all the way: to the left and somewhat behind the desk was a cage. It was a rather unremarkable cage, human sized and like all things on Taris, slightly decrepit. No, it wasn't the cage that caught Mylan's attention at all; it was its occupant.

Inside was a woman the like of which Mylan had never seen. She was of average height, but projected a patrician aura that was greater than her size would suggest. Her skin was pale and flawless, and her figure was powerfully athletic. She had been put into a trashy outfit some simpleton had thought would look attractive, but instead looked farcically out of place on a woman such as this. (thought Mylan did rather like the effect of the high heels that were part of the outfit at least.)

He looked past the tasteless outfit, past the large, heavy and obviously electrified collar she wore and looked at her angelic face, framed by her trademark twin pig tails, and looked into her gray eyes. Even with the effects of the odd, charged collar he could see the acumen within them.

Mylan had finally found Bastila Shan.

Author's Notes:

Updates two weeks in a row, bet no one saw that coming. Now, there's more content, but I'm not sure I'll have another chapter ready next week. Editing is taking a while, so I can't promise it'll be ready in time. Sorry, I'll try to get it released as soon as I can if I miss next week.

I'd like to thank everyone who read this story when it was new and came back to read the last chapter. I'm amazed any of you were left. I'm glad you're back.

I appreciate the reviews I got for last chapter, and like any author I'd love to see more. So if you have anything to say, please feel free to leave me one. Thanks a lot.