Chapter Seven: Hell's Basement – or Sewer
While Bastila took a moment to compose herself, Carth busied himself by satisfying his curiosity. Know your enemy… I had to learn that lesson the hard way. He found a shaft of rusty steel half buried in the earth, which he uncovered and used to prod the rakghoul corpse that was mostly whole. They were truly horrific creatures, secreting an oily substance all over their skin, making them glisten.
They were not entirely hairless, but what hair remained on their bodies had been somehow corrupted and coarsened. The sinewy arms and legs resembled that of a primate, with long nails on the fingers that narrowed into claws. The skin was rippled and puckered from distortions in the skeletal frame, the jaws had somehow widened and were framed by a jagged row of teeth. Carth wasn't quite curious enough to open the mouth and see where the venom was secreted. As he reluctantly prodded the corpse over, his nostrils were invaded by a noxious smell. The rakghouls were already decomposing, perhaps had been for some time. The 'life' expectancy for a rakghoul probably wasn't very long at all.
"It's both hard to believe, and entirely too credible, that these things once were human," Bastila said softly behind him.
"We'd better get moving," Carth said, unwilling to discuss things further. He checked their position on his datapad, and started moving in the direction of the sewer entrances. "Keep an eye out, we don't want to miss any sign of Mission."
Bastila nodded in answer. They advanced as quietly as they could, remaining as alert as possible. They travelled like that for perhaps half an hour, halting sometime in the middle of that to sight and evade a Sith patrol complete with a red suited Sith commander.
"They're still searching for survivors," Carth whispered to Bastila, "They don't want to leave anything to chance."
"That's an entire Sith squad," Bastila noted, "We'd be hard pressed to survive a confrontation."
"Which is why we're going to avoid them," responded Carth bitterly. It went hard on him that he had to let the Sith go.
After a while they could tell they were heading for the sewers when the atmosphere became steadily more pungent. When Carth stopped at a detachable grate set into a wall, blocking entrance to the sewers, Bastila had to stop and wipe the tears from her eyes, making efforts not to be overpowered. She watched Carth unlatch the grate and swing it on its hinges. She stopped him by touching his arm briefly.
"With the Force I can make a small sphere that can filter unpleasant chemicals from the air. It works on odours as well as poisonous fumes and gases. I can't keep it up for long, but if we get into combat don't be surprised if you can breathe easier."
Carth looked surprised but willing to go along with it. "I'm really not looking forward to going down there," he admitted, gesturing to the hole in the wall. He then almost fell back when someone popped up and out of the hole.
"Hey, wait!" the girl cried as she looked into the muzzles of Carth's blasters.
"Carth, put your weapons down," Bastila instructed immediately, recovering first. "Are you Mission?" she asked, noting the girl's species, Twi'lek, and her blue skin tone.
"Yeah, but that's not important. You're not Sith, I know that much, and you're not Outcasts. You've got good weapons, so you must be salvagers. You have to help me! We can't leave him down there all alone!" Mission cried, a few distraught tears cascading down her little pointed face.
Holstering his blasters, Carth jerked his head towards a nearby horizontal concrete pillar where they could all sit. "Come over here, a moment. We've been looking for you."
"Looking for me?" Mission faltered, her eyes darting from Bastila to Carth.
"We need your help, Mission," Bastila stated calmly.
Mission sized them up silently for a moment. She drew a deep breath and then spoke in a determined voice, "I do whatever you want, after you help me rescue Big Z."
"Rescue who?" blinked Bastila.
"Big Z. Zaalbar. He's my friend."
"Oh, the Wookiee," nodded Carth, enlightened.
"Yes, Zaalbar," Mission emphasized. She hated it when people referred to her friend by his species. It was just like when she was referred to as 'the blue Twi'lek girl.' It somehow de-characterized you.
"Okay," Carth agreed, accepting her unspoken reproval and her deal. "How did you two get separated?"
"Me and Zaalbar were mucking around down there, you know? Looking for what we could find. We do it all the time. But this time… the Gamorrean slavers were waiting for us. I guess all they wanted was Big Z all along, because you know how popular Wookiee slaves are…" her voice wavered a little.
"We'll get him back, one way or another," Carth promised. When Mission's astonished eyes met his, he chuckled ruefully and admitted, "I met Zaerdra."
She blushed in embarrassment, head down. Then she looked up again, and said, "That means you must have met Gadon. Zaerdra's never far from Gadon ever, and now with the gang war and the Sith she's like his second skin."
"Gadon sent us down here to get into the Black Vulkar base, but we were supposed to pick you up at the cantina. When you weren't there, everybody assumed you'd been killed down here, and so we came down, hoping to find you… well, alive," Carth explained.
"You're gonna attack the Vulkars?" Mission cried, her eyes lighting up. "Ooh, I gotta be in on that one. But Zaalbar first, okay? You can't get to the Vulkars without me."
"Deal," acquiesced Carth. "How many Gamorreans are we going to be dealing with, by the way?"
Mission's face screwed up in thought. "Maybe a dozen. Not all at once, either. I know my way really well down there. I used to creep in stealth everywhere, and though Zaalbar's not really sneaky, we mapped out almost the entire area, and we can avoid the biggest groups of slavers and rakghouls."
"You have a stealth belt?" Carth enquired.
Mission rolled her eyes, pantomiming 'duh.'
"That'll come in handy," Carth continued, ignoring Mission's attitude. "You can sneak ahead of us a little and warn us of what's coming. Just stay well out of the fights, okay?"
"Hey! I'm good enough to fight!"
"Maybe," Carth said, highly doubting his words, "but you're certainly not old enough!"
"What?!" Mission's voice rose. "Who you do you think you are, you bossy old snark-face!"
"He's Carth Onasi, Mission," Bastila interrupted before Carth could snap back, "and my name is Bastila Shan."
Distracted by this, Mission questioned, "You have different last names?"
"Yes," Bastila replied, puzzled. "What's so strange about that?"
Mission shrugged. "Nothing, I guess. I just thought he was your father, is all."
Carth promptly turned his back to her, holding his head in his hands. Bastila's manner iced up considerably as she retorted, "He most certainly is not! I don't know why anyone would think that!"
Thinking, Mission said, "I guess it's the way you act about each other. No need to get all huffy about it." Mission pushed herself off the concrete block. "Now, if you two elderly folks have finished catching your breath, we've got a Wookiee to rescue!" Mission walked briskly towards the sewer entrance. "Whatcha waiting for? We ain't got much time!"
Fairly certain that if he opened his mouth the fires of hell would consume him (or the Taris equivalent thereof) Carth trudged silently to the entrance. He thanked whatever was responsible for the fact that either his senses were dulled, or he was getting used to the smell. It forced only a few tears to his eyes, which he was able to repress without much effort. Mission hopped through the aperture before him, cautioning him about the slipperiness of the rungs of the ladder on which they were about to descend. He found purchase for his hands and feet quite easily, and was down and on the grated floor before he knew it. A muffled thump as Bastila's boots hit the metal told him she had followed him quickly.
As far as he could tell, the sewers of Taris were comprised of duracrete, absolute filth, and metal, in that order. Every now and then dribbly water would tumble down from the numerous pipe openings dotting the ceilings of the tunnels. Carth wasn't sure if he wanted to know what made the water glow green.
Mission fell back behind him to Bastila. "So, tell me – how did Zaerdra threaten Carth? Did she say she'd cut off his ears and shove them up his nose? She once threatened a guy with a knife that she'd take it away and replace his backbone with it. She also said she'd kick his balls up through his eye sockets."
"Mission!" Bastila chided, blushing. "This is not an appropriate conversation!"
"Hey, I'm just trying to further my education here," Mission defended. "So, come on, what did she say?"
"I'm not quite sure," Bastila admitted. "She just said things would go missing. It was rather elliptical, I thought, and not at all deserving of the caution Carth treats it."
"You really need to read between the lines, Bassy," Mission sniggered, "She was threatening his 'manhood'."
Bastila bit her lip and didn't reply. She was pretty certain her countenance was flushed, however. As if she would even think about Carth's… no, don't even go there. Oh, for peaceful Dantooine plains.
Blissfully ignorant of the conversation behind him, Carth had scouted out several of the tunnels ahead and pronounced them clear. Coming back to Mission, he realised anew how dependent they were on her; he had no map of the sewers. "Now…" he began.
"I'm just gonna go ahead here," Mission said blithely, interrupting him. "You'll hear me whistle. Low whistle means stay where you are. High whistle means come on." As Carth was about to object, she fizzled into invisibility via her stealth field generator belt and the two adults had no alternative but to follow her plan.
Not that he would admit it, but Mission hurried them through the corridors better than many covert operations soldiers he had worked with. When he caught sight of the back of a Gamorrean guard after Mission had smuggled them behind a corner to wait for the right moment to move again, he reacquainted himself with all the reasons he hated fighting with aliens with superior body mass and muscle. They might have only small brains, and speak in the most irritating squeals and whistles, and be uglier than sin, but they were over two meters tall, heavy set, and just looking at one holding an enormous weapon such as their axes or clubs could make a grown man tremble in fear. If he and Bastila were going to be successful, they would need to work on them one at a time together. It was a good thing he had managed to pick up some grenades. They might make all the difference.
He wanted to growl at Mission when she told them to crawl through an empty pipe in the wall, but reminded himself that Mission knew what she was doing. He was thankful for his forbearance when they found themselves crawling on hands and knees on a small platform raised three metres off the ground through a room that was swarming with rakghouls. Bastila stifled a shriek when the rakghouls saw prey hovering over their heads and snarling and screaming, tried to reach them.
"Keep all appendages away from the edges," Mission sang out with macabre humour.
"There is no emotion, there is peace," muttered Bastila.
"Huh? Whatcha talking about?" Mission queried from in front.
"It's a poem," Carth offered, willing Bastila to keep quiet. "Blank verse, you know."
"That's the stuff that doesn't rhyme, right?" Mission asked. "To my mind, if it doesn't rhyme and isn't a translation, it isn't a poem."
"Do you know a lot about literature?" Bastila probed, irritated.
"I know a heck of a lot of stuff. That's why you're out of reach of the rakghouls right now, and not their snack food," Mission answered tartly.
Carth closed his eyes momentarily and hoped that Bastila didn't retort, 'A Jedi is never snack food.'
"And we are properly grateful," Bastila returned coolly.
"Thanks for telling me that, or I would have never figured that out," Mission countered.
By this time, they were at the end of the platform. Mission stood up delicately and reached her hands for a hold on the ladder bolted to the wall. "We go up here, there's an old maintenance tunnel that goes, oh, so far, and then we crawl down, there's a room, and another tunnel, and then we have to be careful, because the head Gamorreans hang there. But that's where I think their prison rooms and armoury is."
"You think?" Bastila interrogated.
"Hey, I usually try to avoid the Gamorreans, not take 'em down," Mission shrugged.
"How will we enter the room?" interrupted Carth, once they were up the ladder and into the maintenance tunnel, where they could barely stand up.
"Through a grate," Mission shrugged. She plucked a tiny bottle from a vest pocket and showed it to him. "With a little oil on the hinges, it won't squeak, and…" she retrieved two spherical objects from her thigh pockets, "with these two stun grenades, you can get in and slashing before they know what's happening."
Carth admired her foresight before asking, "But that will make a lot of noise. Won't the other Gamorreans hear and come to help?"
"Nah, these tunnels are full of rakghouls and other stuff. The Gamorreans are used to fighting them all the time."
"But, just in case, we should stay alert," Bastila cautioned them.
Carth rolled his eyes before he realised what he was doing. He noticed Mission sneak a grin at him and scowled. The teenager was influencing him!
They made their way to the room behind the grate described by Mission. Creeping forward, Carth saw at least three elite Gamorrean warriors within, loitering around and making remarks in their strange language. As he watched, he saw an axe from the corner of his eye, and upon further scrutiny noted a heavily muscled green arm attached to it. So there was at least one, maybe two hidden in the side corners where he couldn't see them. He brought out the oil Mission had given him and squeezed the contents liberally over the hinges, after wiping some of the crap off. Crawling back to Bastila and Mission, he confided his findings.
"Maybe five Gamorreans, in a room with a few strongboxes. You're probably right – it does look like their armoury," he said to Mission.
Mission handed over the stun grenades, which he inspected briefly and held in one large hand. Then she reached her hand over her shoulder and detached the sturdy looking vibroblade strapped to her back. "You're pretty good with your blasters, I know, but you might need to deflect a blow or two," she explained. "Gamorreans are tough. The stun grenades will shock them, but they'll still be dangerous."
Touched, Carth accepted the blade in his left hand. Mission grabbed on to his arm and shook her head. "I wasn't finished. Give me your other blaster."
He recoiled. "What!"
"Not for keeps, you dummy," she whispered furiously. "I'll be behind you, in the tunnel, stealthed. I swear I won't join in the actual fighting, but give me a gun, and if I can get off a sure shot, I will. You'll need the help, you know." She glared at him, anticipating his reservations. "I can shoot, and hit what I aim at. I won't go trigger happy on you."
Reluctantly, Carth propped the vibroblade against the wall and slid his left side blaster pistol out of the holster. "Be careful," he muttered, handing it over.
"Chill, Carth. I won't scratch the finish," Mission snickered.
He shook a finger at her but forbore to say anything further. He needed to get into his battle mind now.
Bastila started to breathe rhythmically. She had never fought Gamorreans before this. The next ones would not be average, either. She deliberately fed the Force along her veins and muscles. Force, guide me.
Mission followed them up, creeping as silently as she knew how to. She held her breath as Carth reached the grill, swinging it out excruciatingly slowly. He readied each grenade with a practised twist that had her eyes narrowing, and flung them one to each side of the opening. Her obscured vision of the Gamorreans beyond nevertheless revealed that they had heard the tiny bombs bouncing on the ground, and were puzzled. The three interlopers pressed their hands to their ears and shut their eyes a few seconds before the stun grenades went off.
When she opened her eyes again, Mission was surprised to see Carth already out into the room and blasting away at the Gamorreans. Bastila was quickly out as well, and Mission briefly wondered how she managed to scramble out while still somehow looking graceful. Easing forward and prone on the floor of the tunnel, Mission held the blaster pistol in both hands, sighting down the barrel like Zaerdra had taught her for the best chance at hitting her target. Over the sights, she noted that two Gamorreans were already down, and the other three staggering around were being engaged by Bastila and Carth.
She was quite proud of her vibroblade when Carth blocked an axe with it and shot the Gamorrean in the chest. Somehow, that didn't stop the huge sentient and squealing indignantly, another, more powerful swing with an axe drove the vibroblade against Carth who fell to the ground.
Mission exhaled and squeezed the trigger, catching the Gamorrean in the eye and killing him instantly. Carth seemed to recover quickly and rolled over just in time to miss the hulking corpse crashing down. Without a backward glance, Carth began raking fire at one of the two Gamorreans aggressively swinging at Bastila, who somehow managed to move so quickly she was unharmed from countless blows aimed at her.
It was over soon. Bastila was tugging her Echani brand out of a Gamorrean corpse, Carth had laid Mission's vibroblade aside and started checking the wound on his shoulder, and Mission was hopping out into the room, to rifle through the strongboxes.
"They're probably locked," Carth began, when he saw her insert an instrument into the lock which soon opened with a chime. "Oh."
"That looks serious," Bastila noted, looking at his shoulder. She dropped her brand on the ground and came over, helping Carth get the top of his Echani armour off that shoulder. Carth was now looking acutely uncomfortable.
"Credits, grenades, computer spikes, a pazaak card…" catalogued Mission softly, shoving items into a soft bag she had secreted somewhere in her many pockets.
"It's not as bad as it looks," Carth demurred to Bastila, wishing she'd not touch him.
Bastila glared once at him, and noted crisply, "You are a part of this team. If you are injured, we are all weakened," and with that, she laid her hands on the warm skin either side of his wound and closed his eyes.
"Mission, help…" Carth whispered until he felt a strange tingling gathering at the site of his injury.
"Big Z's bowcaster!" Mission cheered, picking the weapon up in triumph. She turned around to tell the others, again, when she noticed that Carth's shoulder was glowing. Her eyes widened, and she nearly dropped Zaalbar's most prized possession.
By now, Carth was gritting his teeth a bit. This 'Force Healing' was not as painless as it sounded.
When Bastila slowly opened her eyes and removed her hands, she noted with satisfaction that there was now only a red mark around where the slash had been, and even that would fade within minutes. Carth was staring at it with wide eyes, and Mission's mouth was gaping.
"What the hell?" Mission gasped. Then she seemed to grab a hold of herself. "Okay, we have no time for explanations now, we need to find Big Z, but after we do, you'd better believe I'll have questions!"
"You'll get answers," promised Carth, donning the top of his armour again. He knew what Mission had done. He wouldn't trust her, completely, but he owed her.
Mission bit her lip. "I think the prison rooms are this way," she said, gesturing. She flicked her stealth generator on and scouted ahead like before. She led them to a door that jerked spasmodically and showered sparks. She frowned at it as if it was the door's fault it was out of commission. "I don't know how to get around," she admitted, tears beginning to form in her eyes.
Looking her woebegone face, Carth tendered a suggestion to his diminutive task force. "How about we turn right, and then turn left after that? We might get around that way?"
"We don't have any other alternative," Bastila acknowledged, frowning.
They followed that course, which led to several unexpected encounters with patrolling Gamorreans, one pack of rakghouls, a corridor lined with mines and two dead ends, the last mentioned containing two corpses, clearly of Outcast origin. Shocking her companions, Mission had gone straight ahead and plundered the first of the corpses.
"What? They don't need it anymore," she pointed out practically.
"Mission, what's that?" Bastila asked, pointing at a datapad Mission had discarded quickly after its discovery.
"Um, it's a datapad. Information goes on it," Mission said, cocking an eyebrow.
"I know that," Bastila scowled, "what's on it?"
"Do you really want to invade dead people's secrets?" Mission gibed.
"Stop that," Bastila scolded her, picking up the device herself and acquainting herself with the contents. "Carth!"
"Yeah?" he said, looking up from cleaning Bastila's blade. She had been too disgusted to do it herself.
"It's a journal," Bastila said slowly, "about the Promised Land."
"What?" Carth said, walking over and glancing at the screen over her shoulder.
"Don't do that," Bastila warned.
"What?" Carth asked again, puzzled.
"Breathe on my neck. I like my personal space."
Carth repressed the urge to roll his eyes, I wasn't the one with my hands on your skin, and positioning himself beside her, peered at the screen. "There's the whatsit with the whoseit? What use is this?"
"It's in code," explained Bastila. "We need to get this back to Rukil."
"You need to help me save Zaalbar," Mission interjected, panicked.
"We'll see Rukil after we save Zaalbar, raid the Vulkar Base, and get Revan, okay?" Carth sighed.
Bastila nodded, accepting her cleaned blade from his hand.
They had found another journal at the other dead end. This time Mission simply gave it to Bastila, who flicked through the files and pocketed it.
It was about a quarter hour afterward that they came to a strange looking door. Running her finger over the lock, Mission grinned. "You in there, buddy?" she yelled.
Carth and Bastila jumped back, startled, when a tremendous roar and two thumps answered her.
"Hang on," bellowed Mission, "you'll be out in no time!" She took yet another instrument out of her vest and fitted it gently into the lock.
"I am quite disturbed with how well she does that," Bastila confided to Carth.
"She's lived on the streets," Carth returned quietly. "You don't survive that without learning things."
With a click, the door surrendered and opened. Before their startled eyes, Mission was engulfed by a huge hairy thing.
"Oh, Big Z! I thought you were toast for sure!" Mission cried, hanging on to hunks of fur.
"Mission! You are safe, thank Bacca!" Zaalbar howled in Shyrriwook, the Wookiees' native language. Zaalbar's eyes fell on Mission's companions. "These people helped you find me? Who are they?"
Bastila stepped forward and bowed gracefully. "Greetings, Zaalbar. I am Bastila Shan, and this is my… this is Carth Onasi."
"Hold on a second," Carth said, holding up a hand. "You understand him?"
Mission shrugged a shoulder. "What's so hard about that?"
Bastila looked at Carth as she remarked casually, "My gifts allow me to understand many languages."
Remembering, Mission detached herself from Zaalbar and stood opposite Bastila, arms akimbo. "Then you'll have no trouble explaining things to me."
"Wait, Mission," Zaalbar pleaded, looking at Bastila. "These people helped how?"
"Well, Z, I found them in the Undercity. They were looking for me, sent by Gadon, so I told them about you, and they wouldn't let me fight, and I led them here," Mission enlightened him.
"They risked their lives for me," Zaalbar mused. He straightened and approached Bastila, whose composure faded a little at the tall creature standing less than two feet away from her with an obvious case of halitosis.
"Bastila Shan, the worst fate that a sentient can experience is being bound in slavery. But for your intervention, that would have been my fate. I am deeply grateful."
Bastila tried to shrug it off, trying to put her hand over her nose casually. "I was only too pleased, Zaalbar. Mission is going to help us."
"You risked your own life," Zaalbar insisted, "Far too many of my people are enslaved. It is something I feel deeply about. And in my culture, there is only one way I can make reparation. I will swear a life debt."
"Now, wait a moment, please," Bastila gasped.
"What is going on?" Carth asked, annoyed.
"A life debt?" questioned Mission, ignoring the others, "Are you sure you want to do that? It's a really big step to take."
"I am sure, Mission," the Wookiee answered. "Bastila Shan, I swear a life debt to you. I will honour you and guard you with my life, as long as we both live. May my vow be as solid and long lasting as the wroshyr trees on Kashyyyk."
As Bastila floundered in a morass of half-finished sentences, Carth moved closer to Mission and asked her, "Mission, what the hell is going on? I can't understand Zaalbar."
Whispering back, Mission confided, "He just vowed a life-debt to Bastila for helping save his life. To a Wookiee, a life-debt is the most solemn vow they can make. Basically, she's got a big bodyguard for life."
Carth took a moment to take this in. "And he didn't swear one to me?" he asked, not petulantly, but wonderingly, conscious that he had finally had some good luck.
"I guess Big Z thought it would be silly to do that when you'd need an interpreter all the time."
Slowly, Carth felt his infinitesimal smile widen. Mission saw and punched him lightly. "Don't demean the life-debt, it's really serious stuff."
Eventually, Bastila understood that she was completely, and irrevocably trapped. Then Mission got both Carth and Zaalbar's attention, by saying, "Wherever Big Z goes, I go. So you're stuck with me now."
Why has the universe gone mad? Bastila wondered. Who ever heard of a Jedi with a Wookiee guardian and a teenaged twi'lek?
Her day was made complete by Mission continuing, "Okay, now. You all have some explaining to do."
Author's Notes and Explanations: What is a snark-face? I have no idea! It just sounded good. I'm sorry I made Mission a little vulgar, but, after all, she is a street kid. She could be a lot worse! I felt that she would know the ins and outs of the sewers, and avoid the worst places, if she could escape from the Gamorreans all on their own. And I did notice that Carth, Bastila and Mission figure they're invincible. That's the way I felt through the whole game (but then I was using the cheats, aren't I a bad girl?) so I'll going to try and do better. And I know that the Gamorreans have ar'garoks and th'ocks, or however they're spelled, but you know what I mean when I say axes or clubs, don't you? They didn't explain in Kotor I, did they? (not that that is really an excuse).
I had fun writing about Carth getting healed. I think he'd be really wary about being touched, wouldn't you? And when Bastila hesitated and said 'this is my…" she was about to say 'friend', but thought better of it. Just to clarify.
It was always possible to go without the life-debt, but that's the whole reason Mission goes along with them, so I thought it would be more believable to do it anyway. Besides, think of how many funny situations can come out of this!
I've had this typed out for a day, and I wanted to wait another one before I posted it so I could get properly started on the next, but I just can't deny you guys anything! Enjoy the last post for the year!
I'm actually quite pleased with this. I typed out three and a half pages in one day, and they're not half bad! Of course, you can review if you think I'm wrong!
