Disclaimer: I am not making any money from this and am doing it purely for my own enjoyment. I own nothing.

Chapter 7 – An Unexpected Contact

Jaran, Bastila and their Bek companions made their way out of the swoop track without incident, never seeing any sign of the Sith troopers Jaran was certain were on their way to investigate the fracas with the Vulkars. If the Sith were to discover the very Bastila Shan for whom they were so desperately searching was the prisoner Brejik had put up for the Vulkars' share of the prize, Jaran knew they would descend on the Lower City in force. Anglu assured him the swoop race was only displayed on a closed circuit holonet broadcast to which only certain groups had access. However, Jaran knew there was no certainty the Sith had not tapped into the signal.

At the Bek base, they were greeted by Zaerdra, who informed them Gadon had gone into seclusion to mourn the death of his one-time lieutenant and confidante, Brejik, yet leaving no doubt as to her own opinion concerning the fate of the 'traitorous slug'. She thanked him for his assistance on behalf of the Bek leader and added her own personal thanks, all the while sizing up Bastila out of the corners of her eyes.

Seeing the dismissal in her tone, he suspected he was not truly trusted, despite the result of the swoop race, Jaran agreed immediately that they should be on their way. The only request he made of them was a hooded cloak for Bastila; her features were quite distinctive even without the Sith tearing the planet apart to find her. He handed the proffered cloak to Bastila, which she donned without comment, and led the way out of the base toward the elevator to the Upper City.

Once they had left the base and gone a short way from the entrance, Bastila stopped and rounded on her companion.

"She knew my identity," she stated flatly.

"She and Gadon guessed it when we initially met them," Jaran responded, not entirely truthfully. He already knew, however, that learning of Carth's slip would simply set her off, so he kept silent about it.

Bastila shook her head in exasperation. "I would have thought you would be able to keep a secret, having served in the Republic Special Forces. How did you know those swoop gang scum wouldn't sell you out to the Sith?"

"Because they hate the Sith!" Jaran protested, somewhat irritated at her manner. "I told you, they were able to figure it out from what we were forced to tell them in order to locate you. Please trust my judgment in this – there was never any chance of the Sith learning about you or us from the Beks."

Bastila regarded him momentarily before abruptly turning on her heel and stalking away. "I hope you are a little more circumspect in the future," she said acidly as he caught up to her. "I intend to get us off this planet. But I won't be able to do it if you are continually spouting off our identities to every small-time thug we come across."

Jaran stopped abruptly, staring in disbelief at her retreating back. We risk everything to rescue her and this is the thanks?

When she stopped to gaze back at him, Jaran immediately began walking, brushing past her and continuing on his way. "This way, Princess," he shot at her.

"And stop calling me Princess!" Bastila retorted, hurrying to catch up with him.

Jaran rounded on her so abruptly she almost ran into him. "Then I suggest you stop acting like one, Princess!" he snarled through clenched teeth. "Carth and I went through the Taris version of hell to find you and I don't appreciate your attitude about the manner in which it was accomplished. If you don't have any way of expressing your gratitude, then I strongly advise you to keep your opinions to yourself!"

A clinical portion of Jaran's mind registered her shock at his words, mixed with something deeper he could not identify, but at the moment he simply did not care for her petty reactions. He once again began walking, not bothering to see if she followed. The rest of the trip to the elevator was uneventful and completed in utter silence, Jaran fuming over Bastila's attitude, his companion seemingly silenced by his angry outburst.

At length they arrived at the elevator. In contrast to the last time he had been here, the guard at the elevator was much more attentive and suspicious. As he pored over their documents, Jaran had the distinct impression he was searching for any reason to object to their passage, as the questions he asked were detailed and accusatory. He alternately stared at Jaran and peered at Bastila's face, trying to penetrate the shadows of the hood she wore low over her face. Jaran had no doubt they were searching for something, but were not yet certain what had actually taken place at the swoop race track. A delay of even another hour or two could have prevented them from reaching the Upper City again.

At length, however, the guard shoved the papers back into Jaran's hands and instructed them tersely to get in the elevator. Jaran heaved a sigh of relief when they were safely in the elevator, certain they would have difficulty returning to the Lower City in the future, should they ever have a need to do so.

--------------------

They arrived at their makeshift base of operations to find Carth, Mission and Zaalbar waiting.

"You don't know how relieved I am to see you, Bastila," Carth said, once the introductions had been completed. "It didn't look good at all there for a while, but things are finally beginning to look up. Now we just need to figure out a way to get off this planet."

"You mean you don't have a plan to get off Taris yet?" she demanded. "What have you been doing all this time?"

"Trying to find you, remember?" Jaran shot back. "The planet is under quarantine, Bastila; it's more complex than simply asking nicely." He was sorry for his lack of patience the moment the words left his mouth.

"I see," she responded flatly. "Now that I'm back in charge of this mission, perhaps we can start doing things more properly. Hopefully our escape from Taris will go more smoothly than when you 'rescued' me."

"I know you're new at this, Bastila," Carth pointed out with some exasperation, "but a leader doesn't berate her troops just because things aren't going as planned. Don't let your ego get in the way of the real issues here."

Bastila stiffened noticeably. "That hardly strikes me as an appropriate way to address your commander, Carth. I am a member of the Jedi Order and this is my mission. Don't forget that! My Battle Meditation ability has helped the Republic many times in this war and it will serve us well here, I am sure."

"Your talents might win us a few battles, but that doesn't make you a good leader! A good leader would at least listen to the advice of those who have seen more combat than she ever will!"

"Both of you settle down!" Jaran interrupted. "This isn't helping. We should be working together, not quarrelling among ourselves like children!"

Bastila's icy glare turned on Jaran, but he forged ahead before she could speak. "And yes, I include myself in that remark. I haven't been the picture of congeniality since we met and I apologize for any offense I may have given you. Now is not the time to let our pride get in the way of what's truly important."

"The truth is, the Republic needs you and your abilities, Bastila, as much as it needs Carth and his skills. We must get off this planet before the Sith find us, or Malak has another one of his insane Sith Lord moments."

Bastila regarded him, making a visible effort to bring herself under control. Jaran followed her eyes as she looked at each of their companions in turn – Carth obviously struggling with his own emotions, Mission, whose eyes were as wide as saucers and Zaalbar, who was regarding them impassively, his Wookiee features almost impossible for a non-Wookiee to read.

Bastila swallowed hard as the implications of Jaran's words hit home. "Yes… you're right, of course, Jaran. I apologize, Carth. This has been a difficult time for me."

"For us all," Jaran echoed sternly, "but that's no excuse for any of us."

"I agree. Of course I'm happy to listen to your advice." Her words were almost forced out between her lips, short and curt as if she were flinging them in the pilot's face. "What do you suggest we do?"

"First off, we can't get hung up on who's in charge," Carth responded pointedly. "We all need to work together if we want to get off this rock. There must be a way; we just have to find it."

Bastila blanched, but her expression softened and she nodded her head. "Well said, Carth. And the sooner we start looking, the better; I've already been a prisoner of the Vulkars and I don't plan on being captured by the Sith."

"Not while I have something to say about it," Jaran said with deadly intent.

Bastila turned to regard him, her expression assuming a neutral expression.

"Well, at least we won't be starting from scratch in that regard," Carth said. "We have done some asking around in the local cantinas, the spaceport, you name it. We haven't found anything yet, but that doesn't mean there isn't a way."

"True," Bastila responded, her eyes never leaving Jaran's face. "In that case we had better get to it."

"Bastila, no offense, but we had better get to it," Jaran interjected. "I'm sorry, but it is much too dangerous for you to assist in this search with the Sith combing the planet for you."

Bastila looked as though she wanted to object, but Carth immediately interrupted. "He's right Bastila, it's much too dangerous for you to be out there, with half the Sith fleet looking for you."

Jaran watched her as the muscles of her jaw flexed and her eyes flashed, and momentarily, he thought she might lash out again. However, this time Bastila won the struggle against her emotions and nodded her acquiescence. "All right, I will remain in the apartment and stay out of sight. But please let me know if there is anything I can do to assist."

Bastila stayed aloof from the ensuing conversation, adding only the occasional comment, as they debated the situation and what their plan of action should be. At length, they decided to split up in order to cover as much ground in their search as possible. Mission and Zaalbar would return to the Lower City, through means known only to them, and try the cantinas there, Carth would visit the spaceport, while Jaran would case out the nearby cantinas in the Upper City. They agreed to meet back at the apartment before midnight to discuss any developments.

Having decided on their next moves, Jaran's companions quickly made their exits, while he hung back, looking at Bastila, wondering if he dared ask her about his visions.

Bastila noticed him watching her. "Is… is something wrong?" she asked. "You seem as though something is troubling you."

His decision seemingly made for him, Jaran responded. "Something weird has been happening for the last several days."

"Weird?" she prompted.

"Well, I've been seeing dreams, although the last time would be technically termed a vision rather than a dream."

"Dreams? Visions? Of what?"

"Of you. And the strange part of it is, I saw the first two before I ever met you."

Bastila paled slightly at his statement, but her face gave nothing away. "What were your visions about?"

"Well, I saw the same thing all three times, although each time I saw a little more. You were fighting dark Jedi on the bridge of a ship. Then you came face to face with the dark lord – Revan I guess."

"This is all?"

"Yes. I just don't know what to make of it."

Bastila's gaze became unfocused for several moments while she appeared to mull over his words. At length, however, she glanced back at him, her eyes still puzzled. "This is… strange. Such visions are often… can sometimes be a sign of Force sensitivity."

"Are you saying I can use the Force?" he demanded incredulously, stunned at the implications.

"I… I'm not sure," she said, appearing to be uncomfortable with the subject. "It may be that you have some connection to the Force; it would not be unheard of. When we first met, your natural talent may have fed off my own Force abilities."

"But what about before we met?' Jaran challenged.

"It is possible that in the excitement of the battle, the Force allowed you to witness one of my more intense memories."

Jaran considered this, his mind whirling. He was a grown man and a seasoned soldier, not some callow youth. As he understood it, any ability he possessed with the Force should have manifested itself long before now. But he had lived his life without any hint of latent Force abilities and wrack his brain as he might, he could remember no instance of unexplained occurrence or happenstance which could be explained by his having a connection to the Force.

"So, this means I could be a Jedi?"

Bastila shook her head wearily. "The Force is complicated; even I with all my training cannot fully understand it yet. This is a matter best left to the wise Masters of the Jedi Council."

"But if I am Force sensitive, shouldn't I have had some inclination of it before now?"

"I'm sorry Jaran, but I have no answers for you. Once we escape Taris, we can seek the guidance of the Council, if you wish. They will understand the significance of your vision… if there is any."

She lifted a hand to forestall further discussion. "I think it would be best if we stayed focused on the task at hand right now," she said pointedly. "We can't afford any distractions; we need to find a way off Taris."

Knowing she was not about to be pushed any further, Jaran reluctantly acquiesced and began to turn away when he remembered something. "By the way, I found this on Brejik's body," he said, pulling her lightsabre from his belt and handing it to her. "I apologize for not giving it back earlier; with all that has happened, I had forgotten I still had it."

Bastila accepted the lightsabre from his hands almost reverently. "You have no idea how much of a relief it is to have this back in my hands," she breathed. "Thank you."

"Actually, I think I do," he responded with a smile. "I've served with Jedi since I joined the Republic Forces during the Mandalorian Wars, remember? I've seen more than one Jedi go all mushy over their lightsabre."

Bastila actually laughed at that. "I bet you have."

"Hey, will you be all right here by yourself?" he asked, still grinning.

She met his eyes again, still smiling tentatively, but genuine nonetheless. "Don't worry about me; I'm a Jedi, remember? I can take care of myself. Besides, if any Sith troopers come looking, I can 'persuade' them to forget about me rather than fighting them and drawing any others within shouting range down on me as well."

Jaran nodded his head in approval; having served with the Jedi in the past, he was well aware of the effect of the force on the 'weak-minded'.

"All right then, be careful."

"I will," she agreed. "But I think I should be saying that to you. You and our other companions are the ones taking all the risks here."

Jaran smiled and saluted casually before leaving the room.

--------------------

The following two days were difficult for the entire party. By day, and well into the night, the four who were able to move about undetected spent their time in every cantina, searched in every location they thought might house some malcontent pilot who may be willing to attempt running the blockade. They even made a fruitless attempt to contact certain Tarisian elements of the Exchange, the galaxy-wide organized crime syndicate, only to be rebuffed. Their efforts were in vain and a way off the planet remained beyond their reach.

In the interim, Jaran observed his Jedi companion and was able to form some basic conclusions about her character. She was in general, soft spoken and uncommunicative, generally keeping to herself as much as possible, when not discussing their progress. She almost never initiated conversation which had anything to do with any subject other than their predicament and plans to leave Taris. Indeed, the few times Jaran had conversed with her to any great length, he had been the one to initiate dialogue, or he had initiated it because he could tell she had something she wanted to say, but was not willing or able to begin the conversation herself.

She was clearly intelligent and well-spoken, her voice soft, her language cultured and precise. She was also possessed of a sharp and acerbic tongue and was not hesitant to use it when she felt someone was stepping out of line. She was also very protective of her associations and any slight against herself or the Jedi Order, real or perceived, would bring out her verbal arsenal in full force.

But he knew she was much more complicated than what could be seen on the surface. She was a staunch and unabashed supporter of the Jedi, but he could tell she was sometimes frustrated, or even resentful of some of the strictures placed on her by the Jedi order. She was a firm believer in the 'Jedi Code' as she called it and often reminded herself to 'remember the Code' when losing her temper. It was easy to tell that her attitude, at least in part, was a byproduct of her 'special talents'. She took an enormous amount of pride in being the only current master of the battle meditation technique. He knew she had been using it for the defense of the Republic for more than the last year of the war, meaning she had begun taking an active roll at the tender age of seventeen; extremely young for one to become the hope of the galaxy. In Jaran's mind, this was one of the major factors which contributed to her overall attitude, although there were undoubtedly other things such as her overall strength in the Force.

On one occasion, Jaran made the error of addressing her as a Jedi Knight, prompting her rather terse and unfriendly remark that she had not made knight yet and was still only a Padawan. This, however, revealed another facet of her character: from her tone of voice and attitude, it required no great insight to tell that she believed she should already be a knight. Knowing some of the tenets of the Jedi, Jaran had asked why she had been sent out here without her master and had been informed, in an even more clipped and hostile tone, that her master had been killed during the assault on Revan's warship and that she had still not been assigned to a new master – her advisors aboard the Endar Spire had been deemed a sufficient surrogate for that lack. Jaran had wisely decided against pursuing the conversation.

Yet with all the information he was able to glean from observing her, the true Bastila Shan remained a closed book to him. He was certain there was more to her than this arrogant, spoiled child, but her own decision to ostracize herself from the rest of the party prevented him from getting to know the person he was certain existed under the façade.

Later that night, when they had returned from their first evening of searching, Jaran and Carth had gathered together with Bastila to discuss their activities. Mission and Zaalbar had returned earlier and were seated across the room talking together in low voices. Jaran sat back for the most part, watching and listening to the discussion between pilot and Jedi. It was largely a one-sided affair, however, as Bastila rarely gave more than monosyllabic answers and often seemed to be staring at something only she could see. He sensed that she was feeling regretful, perhaps even unhappy. It was obvious something other than the current situation was on the Jedi's mind.

"Bastila, something is bothering you," Jaran interrupted. "You may not want to talk about it, but I have often found that getting it out in the open is the best way to deal with it."

Bastila said nothing for some time, her eyes slightly unfocused. At length, however, she glanced at Jaran and sighed. "I guess I'm just not used to failure."

"I don't know that you can be blamed for our predicament; it seems a little beyond anyone's control."

Bastila shook her head. "I don't think I've made myself clear. This was the first time I had been in command of a mission; it hasn't turned out the way I expected, the way I imagined."

"Don't be so hard on yourself," Carth admonished. "There was nothing you or anyone else could have done. To tell you the truth, I was surprised we were ordered to Taris in the first place. There is absolutely nothing of value here and the Sith have controlled this world for months; there was no strategic sense in our orders."

"There was a reason," Bastila said softly. "And before you ask any further, no, I am not at liberty to discuss the reason we were sent here. Suffice it to say, the Jedi council deemed it important enough to risk detection by the Sith."

Carth frowned, but being a lifelong soldier, he knew better than to press her. "Well, whatever reason they had for sending us here, somehow the Sith either knew we were coming, or detected us before we arrived. The trap was well laid and I doubt Revan himself would have been able to bring the Spire out safely."

Bastila tensed, no doubt uncomfortable with the reminder of her own link to the erstwhile Sith Lord. "I understand that, Carth, but it doesn't prevent me from replaying the battle in my head, wondering if there is anything I could have done to prevent our current quandary. Not to mention the lives of all those soldiers lost…"

"Carth is right, Bastila," Jaran spoke up. "Dwelling on it serves no useful purpose and more importantly, it prevents you from looking to the future."

"I understand," she acknowledged, with a slight smile. "I will try and focus on the task at hand."

With that, they all retired to sleep, but Jaran was awake for some time and he had the distinct impression Bastila did not sleep any more than he did.

That incident highlighted another facet of her character – the fact that although she presented a competence and maturity to those around her, she was still plagued by the same insecurities as any other person. And considering she had been entrusted with her first command at the tender age of nineteen, it was not surprising she had doubts.

--------------------

Two nights later, Jaran returned late to find the apartment empty, with the exception of his Jedi comrade. He good-naturedly apportioned out the food he had purchased on the way back to the apartment, knowing she would not have eaten since much earlier in the day. She turned her nose up at the bottles of Tarisian Ale he had brought back, but that did not offend him, as he was beginning to develop quite a taste for the strong, bitter ale and was willing to drink it all himself.

They sat in awkward silence, eating their food, until Jaran noticed her peering at him intently when she thought he was not looking.

"Do you like what you see?" he asked, deliberately teasing her. He was rewarded by an immediate blush.

"Seriously though, you look like you have something you would like to talk to me about."

Bastila smiled. "Yes, I would like to know what happened after you crashed on Taris," she confirmed. "I'm curious as to what you and Carth were doing before we all joined forces."

Jaran simply could not resist another small dig. "Before we rescued you, you mean."

Bastila's face once again assumed the look of frosty disapproval, which Jaran was already becoming very familiar with. "I managed to free myself, as I recall. In fact, if I hadn't been there Brejik and his thugs might have killed you in that fight. It's probably more accurate to say that I rescued you."

Jaran snorted, diverted by her conceit. "Can't you just admit you were rescued?"

"I'll admit that it would have been much more difficult to free myself if not for the brawl after the swoop race," she conceded. "I guess I should thank you for that, at least."

By now, Jaran was far too amused by her refusal to give credit to anyone other than herself to take any offense to her words.

But before he could provoke her further on the subject, she interrupted him. "Actually, your presence at the swoop track is what I'm curious about."

At Jaran's motion she continued. "It couldn't have been an easy task to find me there. Yet somehow you managed. You also avoided detection by the Sith, discovered I was a Vulkar prisoner, gained sponsorship for the race and became the Taris swoop champion. That's quite a resume."

She was silent for several moments before continuing. "I won't deny you've impressed me with what you've done."

Jaran was bemused by the halting way in which she was expressing herself. Whatever she had been taught in the Jedi Academy, it was obvious she was not used to being part of a group like this. In some ways, such as the expression of feelings and dealing with others, she had the skills of a child.

"Keep in mind that I did have a lot of help: without Carth, Mission and Zaalbar, I doubt I would have come anywhere close to finding you in time."

Bastila waved her hand dismissively. "Your modesty is admirable. But though the others certainly helped, you were the catalyst for these events.

"When you were chosen to join this mission, I doubt any of us expected this much from you. A Jedi could have done such things, of course, but only by… drawing heavily on the Force."

"And you think I can use the force?"

"The Force is in all of us," she responded, with a shrug. "For most people, however, it is a barely measurable whisper. But there are some individuals outside the Jedi Order that we consider 'Force Sensitive'."

"That's a cryptic answer."

Bastila smiled. "But the Jedi are known for giving cryptic answers; you knew that, didn't you?"

Jaran threw his head back in laughter; she had a point.

"It is obvious to me that the Force has been working through you," she continued. "There is no other explanation for your great success, though I am not certain what to make of this discovery. Perhaps if you weren't… well, if you were younger, the Jedi might take you for training. But as it is…"

"I'm a little too old for training and I doubt my way of thinking would fit in with Jedi beliefs," Jaran dismissed. "What I don't understand is why now? I've always understood Force sensitivity generally showed up during childhood. And if I am Force sensitive, why am I not already a Jedi?"

"I understand your frustration, but I've likely overstepped my authority. This is best left to the Jedi council to deal with. However, please remember that not all who can use the Force are either Jedi or Sith; the galaxy is a very large place and we would be presumptuous to assume all who are capable of becoming Jedi are discovered as children."

Jaran had to concede the point.

At that moment Carth walked into the room and interrupted the conversation. He tersely informed them of his lack of success, which immediately cast a damper on Jaran's conversation with Bastila. Soon after, she excused herself and retired to the small bed on the far end of the room, followed soon after by the two soldiers who stretched out on makeshift pallets on the floor.

--------------------

It was not until the next day when their breakthrough finally manifested. Rising early while their companions were yet asleep, Jaran and Carth decided to get a quick start on their search. They had not walked more than a hundred meters from the entrance to their apartment building before being approachedby a Twi'lek.

"You there – human. You are the rider who won the Great Swoop Race in the Lower City, yes?"

Jaran stopped abruptly, regarding the alien. He did not look as if he was affiliated with the Sith, but Jaran decided it was better to be cautious.

"You must have me confused with someone else."

'No, human, I don't think so," the Twi'lek challenged. "I saw the swoop race: you were there. You are the one I was sent to find. I have a message from Canderous Ordo. He says to meet him in the cantina." The alien turned and pointed in the direction of the nearby cantina.

Jaran was surprised to hear the name Ordo, but was careful to give nothing away. "Should I know him?"

"You don't know Canderous?" he asked, incredulously. "He's the Mandalorian that works for Davik Kang: you know – the Exchange boss on Taris?"

"A Mandalorian working for the Exchange," Carth scowled. "This just keeps getting better and better."

"What does he want?" Jaran queried, curious in spite of himself.

"Canderous didn't say why he wanted to meet you. He only said he had an offer you couldn't refuse. Given his connections, you can see why it would be foolish to ignore his request."

Knowing it was unlikely the Twi'lek would know any more, Jaran dismissed him. "Okay, I got the message. You can go now."

The Twi'lek's face darkened at Jaran's summary dismissal. "I would advise you not to put this meeting off for too long, human. Mandalorians are known for many things, but patience is not one of them."

"Yeah, and I'm not known for my patience either," Jaran rejoined. "I suggest you get out of here before you find out first hand."

The Twi'lek bristled at Jaran's tone, but being faced by two unfriendly humans with dark scowls on their faces, he turned abruptly and started walking away, grumbling under his breath.

"A Mandalorian!" Carth spat. "What could he want?"

Jaran understood Carth's feelings; part of him wanted nothing more than to ignore this meeting request from the Mandalorian and continue with their search. However, a coldly analytical part of his mind acknowledged that whatever Canderous wanted, making a contact with the Exchange, however personally distasteful it might be, could eventually lead them to a way off the planet. Jaran was not about to let personal feelings get in the way of their primary goal.

"I'm not certain," he replied, considering the possibilities. "But I don't think we can pass up this opportunity."

Carth was appalled. "You can't be thinking of actually going to meet this bastard!" he spat.

"Yes I am, Carth. Think about it: we haven't had any luck in finding a way off this planet and even less making contacts with the Exchange."

"But he's a Mandalorian! He can't be trusted!"

"I don't care if we can trust him," Jaran responded. "I only care about getting off this Force forsaken planet and if that means dealing with a Mandalorian, then so be it. We're running out of options here, Carth. We need to start taking some chances. And besides, he obviously knows something about us – we need to at least find out something about what he knows before we decide what to do."

Carth was shaking with anger, but brought himself under control. "What do you suggest then?"

"We'll go and meet him, listen to what he says and go from there. Look, I feel the same way, but I don't think we have any other choice."

"I don't like it, but I guess when you put it that way, we don't have any choice. We better get to it then."

Jaran eyed Carth cautiously. "Look Carth, no offense, but maybe you should go back to the apartment and let me handle this."

Carth shook his head vigorously. "Don't worry about me, I can control myself. I wouldn't let you go in there by yourself; you'll need someone to watch your back for this."

Jaran was still uneasy, but acceded to Carth's logic.

--------------------

The interior of the cantina was much as Jaran remembered, the same dim, smoky atmosphere, with the same music assaulting his ears. As he looked around the area, he saw the Pazaak players once again huddled around their tables. His eyes met those of an old friend, Niklos, who blanched at the sight of his erstwhile tormentor, but Jaran merely ignored him and walked into the bar.

They found Canderous seated at a table near the bar, the force of his unfriendly gaze keeping the tables around him free of other patrons even though the bar was rather busy. Jaran stopped and studied the man momentarily. He was tall and possessed of a heavy, powerful frame, with steel gray hair. He had the look of a fighting man, one to be respected and feared as a dangerous opponent.

Canderous spotted them as they worked their way to the table and nodded in approval as they sat down at his table.

"I understand you were looking for me," Jaran stated.

Canderous nodded. "I saw you in the swoop race. Very impressive. You seem like you know how to get results. Just the kind of person I'm looking for."

"My name's Canderous Ordo. I work for Davik Kang and the Exchange; the hours aren't great, but they promised me a fortune to work for them and I have nothing better to do. Mandalorian mercs like me are in high demand. But lately Davik hasn't been paying me what he promised. I don't like getting cheated, so I figure it's time for me to break the Sith quarantine and get off this backwater planet."

Jaran felt a rush of excitement at the Mandalorian's statement, but forced himself to remain calm. "How do you plan to do that?"

"I've got a plan to escape Taris, but I can't do it alone. I need someone I know can get the job done to help me. That's where you come in."

"Careful," Carth warned, "mercs like this haven't a lick of conscience… they'll betray you in a heartbeat. This could be a trap."

Canderous turned his unfriendly eyes on Carth. "I ain't talking to you, I'm talking to your friend, aren't I?"

Apparently not caring for a response, Canderous returned his attention to Jaran. "I saw you win that swoop race and I started thinking. Anyone crazy enough to race like that is probably crazy enough to break into the Sith military base."

"Why would I be stupid enough to do that?"

"You want to get off this planet, don't you? I need someone to steal the Sith launch codes from the base. Without those codes any ship leaving the atmosphere will be disintegrated by the Sith fleet's automated defense guns."

Jaran had to admit the Mandalorian had his attention. But he was also wary of a trap.

"Why don't you do it yourself?"

"I would, but everyone knows who I work for. If I broke into the Sith base, they'd send an army down on Davik's estate to get those codes back. That's why I need you."

Jaran studied Canderous in the dim light. The Mandalorian was so earnest; Jaran could almost feel the eagerness flowing off him in waves.

"So what's in this for me? So far it looks as if I'm the one taking all the risks here."

"Here's the deal: You bring me those launch codes and I can provide the vehicle to get off the planet – Davik's flagship, the Ebon Hawk!"

"And how are will you manage that?" Carth challenged.

"Uh-uh. Not yet. First, you bring me the launch codes. Then I'll tell you the rest of my plan."

"It seems as if you are asking me to go on faith here," Jaran responded. "What assurances do I have that this is not just some Exchange plot to get those codes?"

"None, really," Canderous responded with a shrug. "But I'm certain you both know something of Mandalorians. And you both would know this sort of elaborate deception is not the way my people work. Besides, I think you and I both know you can't stay hidden forever; I suspect the Sith would like to have a talk with both of you."

It was not a threat Jaran knew – Mandalorians were not very subtle when it came to issuing threats. But all the same, Canderous knew something about them and knew they were desperate enough to grab at anything.

Jaran exchanged a look with Carth, raising his eyebrow at the other in question.

"Much as I hate to say it, he's probably right," Carth grudgingly admitted. "We need a ship and he needs the codes and I doubt a Mandalorian would go out of his way to create a plan like this when he could just bash some heads."

Canderous flipped Carth a mocking salute. "Just as you say."

"Okay, suppose I go along with this, just how am I supposed to get inside the military base?"

"Well, I wouldn't recommend knocking on the front door," Canderous responded. "The main Sith base is in a separate section from the barracks and other than some muscle there for defense, it's mostly crewed by their technical and administrative staff. If you go in during the night, it should be manned only by a skeleton crew. Of course, it is protected by an encrypted security system, which would take a top of the line astromech droid to slice through it. But as long as you are careful and don't raise an alarm, you should be able to get in and out without bringing the entire Sith occupation force down on you."

"I assume you know where I can get an astromech droid?" Jaran challenged.

"You're sharp," Canderous said with approval. "Davik was having just such a droid custom built by Janice Nall. She's got a shop near the Sith base, builds top notch droids of all kinds. Just tell her Canderous sent you and she'll sell you the droid. Then you can used it to get the launch codes from the Sith base."

"Okay, Canderous – you've got a deal," Jaran decided. "We have three more companions who we will also be taking along when we leave."

Canderous's answering grin was feral. "The Ebon Hawk can handle the extra load, I'm sure. When are you planning to break into that base?"

"No sense wasting time," Jaran responded. "We will probably want to watch it tonight, figure out their shift changes and anything else we can about them. Probably tomorrow night, I would guess."

"Just as I thought," the Mandalorian nodded knowingly, "you've done this kind of thing before. I will be here the morning after next and I'll return for a few mornings after in case something happens. You come find me when you've got those launch codes and I'll make sure we both get off this rock."

Jaran nodded and rose, pulling Carth with him.

Once outside the cantina, Carth turned to Jaran. "Are you sure he can be trusted?"

"I'm not certain of anything," Jaran replied tersely.

"I hope we know what we're doing."

"I do know is this is the best lead we've come across and we're running out of options. For what it's worth, I think he's telling the truth."

"Bastila's not going to like this," Carth said.

"No, she's not," Jaran agreed.

--------------------

As the two soldiers suspected, Bastila was indeed not impressed with their contact and the plan to invade the Sith base, and informed them of that fact in loud, angry and sometimes shrill language.

Jaran and Carth, however, remained firm in their intention to follow through and pointedly informed her that arguments were pointless. Eventually, she was forced to concede and they began to make plans for the assault on the Sith base.

Jaran hoped they all knew what they were doing.

A/N: Sorry for the long wait. My proof reader has had this for ages and she just upgraded her computer. It got lost in the shuffle for a time.