a/n: I apologize for the delay in the update, but, to quote Admiral Ackbar: "Even the most simple voyage can be ended by an unanticipated wave, and the wave affecting us here was titanic in proportions." Just three days after I posted my last chapter, I got a full-time summer job, which has understandably cut into my writing time. I am still committed to continuing this story to the end, but weekly updates are most likely not possible for the duration of the summer. We'll see how things look when school starts back up. And thank you as usual to my beta, Sia. Now, without further ado, I bring you chapter 7.
Through the mental haze induced by the neural disruptor she wore, Bastila was dimly aware of being moved. From the noise of airspeeders and other vehicles, she could tell they were outside, though her internal time sense wasn't functioning well enough for her to make even a rough estimate of how long they had been traveling. All she had to do was open her eyes to see where they were, but she couldn't summon up the concentration necessary to do so. It occurred to a distant part of her that she probably ought to worry, but she didn't have the will to do that either.
The neural disruptor was quite effective at preventing her from using the Force, but she didn't need the Force to tell her there were a lot of people around. She heard cheering, the clink of footsteps against metal, the unmistakable sound of vehicles moving at a high velocity, and, more than once, explosions. Time passed in a blur, punctuated every so often by the booming of the announcer's voice over the PA as a new rider took to the tracks. She barely even noticed the difference when the announcer began to speak again.
"Ladies and gentlemen, sentients of all genders and species, give a loud cheer for one of the most daring and skilled racers this track has ever seen. I present to you the winner of this year's season opener, Eaton Darnall, riding for the Hidden Beks!" There was a smattering of applause and cheers, then the announcer spoke again. "Here to present the prize, Brejik of the Black Vulkars."
Silence descended for a moment before another male voice broke in. "People, hear me. Before I present the champion of the Beks with his prize, you should know that just two days ago, he, his companion, and two other Beks were seen trespassing inside the Vulkar base, killing more than a dozen of the men there. Because of this Hidden Bek aggression, I am withdrawing the Vulkar's share of the prize."
"Aggression?" a third voice countered. "We saw your Vulkars attack a group of Beks without warning or provocation. I won that race fair and square and I've earned my reward."
"You know the rules, Brejik," the announcer added. "No one is allowed to withdraw a prize once the race is finished. It goes against all our most sacred traditions."
"You old fool!" the Vulkar leader replied scathingly. "Your traditions are nothing to me - I am the wave of the future! If I want to withdraw the prize and sell this woman on the slave market myself, nobody can stop me!"
"I can," a strong female voice disagreed. The woman's voice, and the blazing strength of her presence in the Force, sent a jolt of pure ice water through Bastila's veins even with the neural disruptor, and for a moment, her mind was clear. Summoning up all the discipline her Jedi training had instilled in her, she pushed with the Force and the neural disruptor went flying. For the first time, she was able to survey the scene with open eyes and a focused mind. Brejik stood ahead of her and to the left, his profile turned toward her as he argued with another man… is that Carth Onasi? And directly in front of her, standing with her back turned, was the woman whose presence she had sensed earlier. The hair and skin tone is right, as is the height and build. So I wasn't just imagining things after all. But with several Vulkars still aiming weapons at them, there were more important concerns.
"Care to reconsider that plan, Brejik?" she inquired, a taunting smirk on her face. The man paled visibly.
"What? Impossible! You were restrained by a neural disruptor! How could you possibly have found the will to free yourself?"
"You underestimate the strength of a Jedi's mind, Brejik. A mistake you won't live to regret."
A heartbeat of shocked silence followed that declaration, then the whole situation went straight to hell. Brejik drew a wicked-looking double-sided vibrosword and the handful of other Vulkars present also readied their weapons. Bastila rolled out of the way of a blaster bolt, fervently wishing she hadn't lost her lightsaber. As if reading her mind, the other woman shouted, "Catch," and tossed the weapon towards her. Where in the name of Kashyyyk's night demons did she find that? The Jedi caught her weapon in a firm Force grip and pulled it straight into her waiting hand. After that, she almost pitied the few Vulkars who were foolish enough to stay and fight.
With the battle over, she had her first chance to take a leisurely look at the pair that had fought alongside her.
"Carth," she greeted the man with a smile. "I'm glad to see you made it out alive. And… Andra." She had to pause a moment to remember the name the olive-skinned woman went by now. "But how did you end up racing for these swoop gangs?"
"To make a long story short, we found out that the Vulkars had captured you and were offering you as a prize. So we decided the best way to rescue you was to win you ourselves, or, failing that, get you back from whoever did win you," Andra explained casually.
Bastila had to laugh. "So that's what you were trying to accomplish by riding in the race? Save me? Well, as far as rescue attempts go, this is a pretty poor example. Brejik and his Vulkars would have left you for dead if I hadn't stepped into that fight. In fact, it would be more accurate to say that I saved you."
"Hey! Carth and I could have taken those Vulkars with or without your help. We can handle ourselves."
"Yes, I suppose you can at that," she allowed. Mustn't forget who I'm dealing with here. "Well, I appreciate the attempt anyway, even if it didn't quite work out as planned. But let's get down to business- we need to get out of here before the Sith show up to investigate. Do you have somewhere safe to go?"
Carth nodded. "We've been staying in an apartment in the Upper City. Problem is that last I checked, the lifts all had Sith guards posted at them. Any one of them gets a look at your face and it's over for us."
Andra gave Bastila an assessing glance, then, evidently satisfied with whatever she had seen, removed her backpack. "I think I have an idea. You and I are about the same size, so you should be able to wear this." She opened the pack to reveal a full set of Sith armor. "The helmet will hide your face and I doubt any of the Sith know your voice. As long as we don't use the same lift as we did coming down and we keep your lightsaber hidden in my pack, we should have no trouble… those Upper City guards aren't particularly vigilant about security. Carth, do you still have that map?"
"Yes. The next nearest lift to the Upper City is about a kilometer away."
Bastila strapped the armor on over the tight-fitting leather outfit the Vulkars had stuck her in, then slid the helmet over her head and relinquished her lightsaber back to Andra. "Take good care of it," she warned. "Lead the way, Carth."
As they walked, Bastila found herself watching Andra out of the corner of her eye. Almost of their own volition, her thoughts turned to the moment that had brought them both to this place.
So far everything had gone according to plan, but time was limited; their small fleet couldn't hold out forever against the superior firepower of the Sith, especially without the benefit of her battle meditation. But victory wasn't the objective. The objective was the figure in armor standing in front of the viewport, watching with apparent dispassion as Bastila cut down the last remaining Sith apprentice.
Two of the other Jedi on the strike team moved to flank her, and she could sense the Twi'lek, Lyn, coming up behind. "You cannot win, Revan," she informed the Sith Lord, but Revan merely stepped back into a Soresu ready stance, right hand holding the scarlet lightsaber parallel with the temple while the left was extended toward them in a challenge. Bastila sighed and raised her lightsaber in the two-handed grip of Ataru. I suppose it was too much to expect a Sith Lord to just surrender without a fight. She prepared to leap in for the attack, but saw the turbolaser blasts shooting toward them just in time and flipped backwards instead with every ounce of her Force-enhanced strength. She, who had seen the attack coming, barely managed to escape the explosion. Revan, who had been facing away from the window, didn't stand a chance. When the air cleared, Bastila climbed cautiously to her hands and knees and crawled over to where the Dark Lord lay. Gingerly, she removed the mask and felt for a pulse.
Just then, her train of thought was interrupted by a shout from Carth.
"Where'd Andra go? Have you seen her, Bastila?"
Bastila concentrated briefly, stretching out to the Force, and immediately found her. I could probably find her if she was anywhere on the same planet, she reflected just a touch bitterly.
"She's fine, Carth, she just fell behind a little."
He ignored her and took off at a brisk jog back towards where they had come from. With an irritated sigh, Bastila followed.
They found her about a hundred meters back. "What happened?" Carth asked, worry putting a slight edge in his voice.
"I don't know. One second I was walking with you, the next I was having some sort of vision."
"Well, we don't have time to worry about that now. We need to get out of here before the Sith find us. Come on!"
Bastila felt a jolt of fear run through her. This should not be happening. She followed after Carth, but resolved to ask Andra about that vision later, in private.
As soon as the door to their apartment slid shut behind them, Carth breathed a sigh of relief.
"We made it. Finally things are starting to look up. Now we just need to figure out a way to get off this planet.
Bastila could hardly believe her ears. "You mean you don't have a plan to get us off Taris yet? What have you been doing all this time?"
"Uh, hello, we were just a little busy figuring out how to even find you. It's not like that was exactly easy," Andra pointed out. Bastila could sense a flash of barely controlled irritation from the woman, but her own anger eclipsed it. Have I escaped the Vulkars only to be stuck here until the Sith capture me?
"I see," she said coolly. "Now that I'm back in charge of this mission, perhaps we can start doing things properly. Hopefully our escape from Taris will go more smoothly than when you 'rescued' me from Brejik."
"You think you could have done better?"
"As a matter of fact, I do."
"Maybe so," Andra allowed grudgingly, "but not all of us have the advantage of the Force, so how about you lose the attitude and help us come up with a plan?"
Bastila realized her mouth was hanging open and hastily snapped it shut, though the helmet of the armor she still wore hid her face. How dare she! "My attitude? It strikes me that you're the one in sore need of an attitude adjustment. I'm a member of the Jedi Order and a fleet commander for the Republic and I happen to be in charge of this mission, if you'll recall."
The irritation Bastila had felt earlier was now verging on fury, but before Andra could respond, Carth stepped in. "I know you're new at this, Bastila, 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."
My ego? Why, that little… "That hardly strikes me as an appropriate way to address your commanding officer, Carth. Or had you forgotten that this is still my mission? My battle meditation has helped the Republic many times in this war and it will serve us well here, I am sure."
"Your talents might have won 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."
Andra took a deep breath and Bastila could feel her anger fading. "Okay, I think we all need to take a moment and just calm down. This isn't helping."
Bastila had to admit that the woman had a point. There is no emotion, there is peace she recited silently, running through one of the calming exercises that had been drilled into her as a youngling.
"You're right, of course. I apologize, Carth; my captivity by the Vulkars has left me more than a little edgy. Of course I'm happy to listen to any advice you have for me."
Carth flopped down on the couch with an exhausted sigh. "Well, for starters, we can't get hung up on who's in charge. It took all of us working together to get to you, and it's going to take the same sort of teamwork to get us off this planet. The answer is out there, we just have to find it, but 8 at night is not the time to start looking. It's been a long day for all of us."
"Yes, some food and drink and a good night's sleep would be most welcome," Bastila agreed. She began loosening the straps on her borrowed Sith armor, fixing Andra and Carth with a warning glare. "And not a word out of either of you about this ridiculous outfit the Vulkars stuck me in."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Carth replied with a grin. The Padawan peeled off her disguise, stuffing it back in Andra's backpack, and retrieved her lightsaber in the process. She automatically reached to clip it to her belt, then realized she wasn't wearing a belt and let out a grunt of irritation.
"What I would give to have my Jedi robes back. Or anything that isn't this blasted… dancing girl's costume!"
The sound of Andra's laughter drifted back from the bedroom. "You mean you don't want all of Taris to see you like that?"
"Most certainly not!" Bastila answered, setting her lightsaber down on the table with an indignant huff. "I am a Jedi; to parade around the Upper City looking like I belong on a stage in a cantina is beneath my dignity!"
"Alright, alright," Andra chuckled, reappearing in the bedroom doorway with a smile on her face. "Come here, you can borrow some of my clothes."
Despite Bastila's repeated offers to sleep on the couch, Carth insisted on letting her take the second of the apartment's two beds. With Andra sleeping next to her and Carth just outside the door, she felt safer than at any point since she had crashed on Taris. She had only a few moments to wonder at how strange that was before sleep claimed her.
The morning sun streaming through the broad windows of the apartment awakened her somewhat later than usual. She swung herself out of bed and pulled on the tan jumpsuit and tunic Andra had loaned her, then wandered out into the main living area of the apartment. The other two survivors of the Endar Spire were already sitting on the couch eating breakfast and watching a news broadcast on the vidscreen.
"In other news," the announcer was saying, "tensions are rising as the Sith blockade enters its seventh day. Tarisians and off-worlders alike are anxious to see travel resume, but Admiral Karath of the Sith has announced that the quarantine will continue until the search for survivors of the Republic frigate Endar Spire has—" Carth snarled and changed the channel, muttering something under his breath that might have been a curse. Though Andra's face was hidden from view by the couch, what Bastila could read of her sense was sad.
"You really hate him, don't you?"
"Wouldn't you in my place?"
Andra nodded. "I suppose I would." For the first time since she had joined the other two Republic survivors, Bastila was acutely aware that they had been together for days before she had come into the picture. There was something about the bond they shared that made her almost… wistful? No, that can't be true. A Jedi must be free of emotional entanglements; she does not envy others their relationships and attachments. Except that if she was honest with herself, that was exactly what she was feeling: a hard little knot of envy.
"You do realize, right," Andra was saying, "that we are in no position to fight him right now. The best we can do is escape and live to fight another day. I'm not going to let him have us… any of us," she amended, expanding her statement to include Bastila.
"Yes, well, if the Sith succeed in capturing us, Saul Karath will be the least of our concerns," Bastila pointed out, stepping around the couch to squeeze in next to the other two humans. As Andra scooted over to make room, her hip inadvertently brushed against Carth's and both soldiers jumped at the contact. Through the Force, Bastila sensed a spike of emotion from them. Her upbringing in the Jedi Temple had been sheltered, but not that sheltered. Andra… and Carth? Why do I have a bad feeling about this…
Carth flipped off the vidscreen and turned to face more towards his companions as much as he could given the lack of space on the couch. In the process, he had to lay his arm across the back of the couch, practically around Andra's shoulders. To someone trained in the Force, as Bastila was, it was almost literally as if sparks were flying, and she rolled her eyes. You'd think they were teenagers instead of two adults in their 30s the way they're acting.
"Do try to stay focused on business, you two."
"Hey, I am focused," Carth protested. Right, Bastila thought with another roll of her eyes. "Going back to what you said earlier, that's exactly why we need to get out of here—the sooner the better. We've managed to fly under the Sith radar so far, but it won't last forever. We need a plan."
"I don't think we'll make it off Taris on our own. None of us is very familiar with the planet or its people. We're going to need the help of the locals."
Andra and Carth exchanged a speculative look. "You think… Mission?"
"It's as good a place to start as any. She knows the city better than anyone and she's already proven herself trustworthy."
Okay, now this is getting annoying. "Would one of you care to inform me who this Mission is and why she can help us?" Bastila snapped, slamming a hand down on the edge of the couch. Andra's eyes widened slightly.
"Oh, that's right, you never did meet her. Mission is the young Twi'lek who helped us enormously while we were searching for you… we couldn't have done it without her."
"She knows the city and its people better than anyone," Carth added. "She herself probably can't get us off Taris, but odds are good she'll know someone who can."
Bastila leaned back against the cushions of the couch, considering. It's risky, but at this point, any course of action would involve a certain amount of danger. Sometimes you simply have to dive in, do the best you can, and leave the rest to the will of the Force.
"This is an acceptable plan. Do you know where we can find this Mission?"
