Tricks of the mind
- Jen Sahara -
We're getting nowhere, I thought resentfully as we trudged through Upper Taris. I really annoyed Onasi last night, and we still don't have any clue how to get down to the lower levels. I scowled at Carth's back as he stalked ahead of me. We'd spent most of the morning investigating any turbo-lift within reasonable distance – all, without exception, were guarded by black-clad, unmoving guards.
Carth had been at a loss on how to get past the Sith, but hadn't appreciated the idea of knocking the guards out. Spoilsport, part of me muttered. Okay, so attacking the Sith in broad daylight was a fairly dim-witted suggestion, but the angry side of me was just clamouring for some action – besides, I thought to myself, it wasn't like Blaster Boy over there had any better ideas.
We'd taken a detour earlier to visit the nearby 'Adventurer's Emporium' – which, considering the empty shelves, had once seen better days. The owner, a Kebla Yurt, spoke to us at length regarding the Sith quarantine on Upper Taris. As we already knew, public inter-level movement was currently prohibited, be it by air traffic or turbo-lift. And the Sith were offering hefty rewards for information regarding any Republic fugitives, which caused Carth to tense, and me to smile politely.
The lower levels, however, had erupted into gang fighting, and the Sith presence down there was all but overwhelmed. Kebla informed us that the two largest gangs – the Hidden Beks and the Vulkars – were engaged in a messy war for supremacy. Even the Exchange was involved, acting as hired thugs or bounty hunters for both sides, depending on which offered the most credits that particular day.
But perhaps that wasn't surprising. The recesses of my brain that definitely did not come from Jen Sahara knew about the Exchange. As the largest spice smuggling, slave trading and bounty hunting criminal organization in the galaxy, they had either political or economic clout in most systems. Before the Sith had gained prominence, the Exchange had been the true rulers of Taris, hiding behind puppet politicians and corrupt aristocracy.
But the gang war… that changed things, and could, perhaps, present opportunities. When coupled with the lack of Sith presence in Lower Taris, I wondered whether it would be safer to permanently move our hideout downwards.
If we could actually find a way to get there.
We'd stocked up at Kebla's, and now both carried rucksacks full of ration bars, medpacs, and utility tools such as light-rods and spare datapads. Unfortunately she didn't have anything really useful – like a decent tech spike or bio-scanner – as the Sith came in every now and then to audit her stock. From the way the woman's mouth had curled when she explained that, I assumed they did more than just audit.
It was my third day conscious on Taris, and today – with luck – things would start happening. Carth and I were both determined to find a way down to the Lower City and start our mission proper. No matter that Kebla warned us the place was overrun with warring gang members - if anything, it would only make things more interesting.
Interesting? A meek voice squeaked in my head, both alarmed and appalled. I felt my mouth tighten. It wasn't like any pathetic gang minion would pose a threat to me. Reckless, a thought whispered. Maybe it's the direction we have to go, but there's no point being a frelling idiot about it.
An abrupt surge of dizziness slammed into me like a vibro-ax. I've always been labelled reckless, haven't I? Speckles of darkness clouded by vision, and I could hear my heartbeat, fast and furious, in my ears. Someone said something rudely; I was vaguely aware of stumbling, of being shoved, of falling from a great distance...
…
"This is reckless," a man muttered behind me, as I stared at the large doors inset deep within the cave. The blue light radiating from his lightsaber illuminated the barrier in front of us; my eyes were fixed on the unfamiliar sigils inscribed around the edges of the door. "Stars, you've always been reckless, but we've no idea what's beyond this other than some ancient technology we don't understand. Are you sure the threat-"
"Yes," I cut in, mildly exasperated at the same conversation replaying once more. "What I found suggests this leads to something powerful enough to aid us." My concentration remained anchored on the door. There would be some mechanism that would let us through. I had but to find it. "This is the perfect time, when those scared fools believe we are merely here to gloat about our success."
He sighed, and rested a hand on my shoulder. "I know. They're angry with us, all of them. They won't even stop to listen, to consider how badly things could have gone, had we sat back and done nothing-"
I huffed, my focus temporarily broken, and took the moment to lean back against him. "I'm still furious at them. Years of blood and tears and sacrifice and finally the Mandalorian Wars are over – and yet they treat us like errant children. Like - like we did the wrong thing! How can they even think it?"
I felt his lips press into my hair. "Because we disobeyed them. You knew this might happen; we both did. Should they let us stay, we'll be separated for sure. I won't let that happen. Not again."
"We won't be staying," I murmured, stepping away from him to concentrate once more. My hands pressed lightly against the cold door; it was made of some metallic substance I didn't recognize. My companion moved to flank me, the dark blue of his 'saber our sole light source. "This place is my one objective for coming to this planet. I only need to figure out how to open the door."
"Jen?" A voice called distantly.
"Have you tried just giving it a push?" he asked. There was an obvious smirk in his voice, a teasing tone I hadn't heard in far too long. The sound was welcome, but deep down inside, an insidious voice told me not to get used to it. For the dark paths we had already walked were about to get darker.
In the end, we would do what we had to do.
…
"Jen? Wake up!"
"Oh," I groaned. "Of course I tried that, jackal-brain."
"Say what?" Onasi's puzzled voice shot through my sluggish thoughts. "What's wrong with you?"
I blinked as Carth's features slowly swam into view. The faint glare of the Tarisian sun stabbed into my eyes. Somehow, I was lying on the ground. "Uh, where am I?"
"In the middle of Upper Taris, giving me quite a scare," he said wryly. His eyes were warm with concern as they stared down at me. "What happened?"
"I – I fainted," I muttered, sitting up and clutching at my head. It was pounding with renewed force, as waves of nausea washed through me. What was that? That wasn't Jen, and it couldn't be Evil Bitch... was that the real me? Sun and stars, I don't understand any of it.
"That was quite a faint, then." Carth's expression warped to suspicion. Again. "You were muttering something about a door."
"I think I was dreaming," I replied woozily. A dream? A vision? A... glimpse of the real me? But the details... so stark and crisp and clear at first, had begun to unravel with mounting speed. Something about the Mandalorian Wars? Had I... had I fought in them? It might go some way to explaining my reflexes back on the 'Spire. There was a man in the... memory, too. He had a lightsaber...
The specifics of the memory-dream were fuzzing at the edges, blurring rapidly the longer I tried to clutch onto them. But if I could just hold on to the core details-
"Give me a hand up, would you?" I snapped, as Onasi continued to eyeball me in frowning concern. He reluctantly helped me to my feet. I noticed people staring, and glared at the crowd defensively.
"Let's get some lunch first," I muttered. "I probably didn't have enough to eat. Then we can work out what to do next."
He nodded briskly at me, and thankfully dropped the subject.
xXx
We sat eating in the cantina, another bland meal of colourful vegetables I didn't recognize. The sauce was white this time, and tasted faintly of socks. I grimaced, and vowed to try the public synthesizer next.
"So," I began, "there's got to be entrances to the Lower City not guarded by the Sith."
Onasi had been watching me like a Roonish hawk since I'd fainted. I couldn't work out what was stronger – his concern or his mistrust. I was grudgingly aware that my behaviour warranted both.
"I doubt it," he responded slowly. "They've locked this planet up tight; they're taking no chances with Bastila getting away. We need to somehow get past the Sith."
Bastila was still unconscious inside my head. It unnerved me, the thought of her waking, the idea she might be able to sense me... to sense the conflicting emotions I was failing to master. She might know what's wrong with my mind, Jen whispered. I scowled. She might be the root cause of it.
Carth noticed my glowering face and quirked an eyebrow in question. I hastily schooled my expression, shrugged, and muttered sarcastically, "we could always jump off one of the platforms."
"Oh yes, you're such great help," Carth snapped.
I really should stop saying things like that to him. He's such a nice guy. I scowled again. Shut up, Jen.
"Well, I don't know," I grumped. "We could try buying our way past."
Carth actually seemed to mull that one over, which surprised me. I'd picked him as being too straight-laced to consider bribery, but obviously he was adjusting to the environmental parameters – which was a good thing, too, if we were to have any chance of extracting Bastila successfully.
"That would possibly work," he said at last. "But I don't think we can afford the time required to build up a big enough sum. Small change won't be enough. Not to countermand orders from high up."
I rolled my eyes in exasperation. Maybe that's true for the soldiers you've fought with, Onasi. But corruption is rife anywhere if you just look hard enough. "Alright, let's just steal some Sith armour, and pretend we're on their side then." It was a jest, mostly. That Sith full-body armour was very concealing.
Carth frowned at me. "Lunatic ideas I could do without."
"Got any better suggestions?" I shot back tartly. Because so far, I haven't heard much from you, Republic.
He raised an eyebrow at me. "Why don't we try talking to one of guards?"
I sat back, considering. We'd only spot-checked the turbo-lifts from a distance, unwilling to come close enough to engage in conversation. I hadn't seen any Tarisian citizens lurking next to the formidably armoured guards, so they likely didn't welcome idle chitchat. But that didn't mean it wasn't worth a shot - who knew what information we could garner if we were clever about it. "Good idea. Let me do the talking though – you're too conspicuous."
Carth blinked at me. "Say what?" He sounded genuinely befuddled.
"Everything about you screams military, Flyboy," I drawled, eyeing him over. "I suppose you could pass for an Exchange thug with a soldiering background, but it's risky, considering that the Sith are busy looking for Republic soldiers." I allowed that logic to sink in for a moment, before adding, "let me find a guard to sweet talk."
A highly disbelieving look crossed his eyes which set my hackles rising. "Sweet talk? You?"
"What did you think I was doing when you tracked me down in the cantina?" I snapped.
"Getting drunk." The reply back was quick, succinct, and pretty darn truthful, actually. But I had been gathering intel about a strange planet under the guise of drinking, with a head injury to boot. My instincts took over. It certainly wasn't the behaviour of a meek scholar.
I pushed my plate away, and stood. "Watch me at work, Onasi, and learn."
I turned and stalked away, trusting the Republic pilot would catch up to me. By the time I'd entered the outside sunshine, he was once more walking at my side. My stomach full and my head clear for the first time since the Endar Spire, I had a good feeling about the rest of the day. Hopefully that would be enough to stop me having another spell. Faints and visions I can do without, I thought grimly. It's just confusing me all the more.
The sunlight reflecting off the marbled buildings and ferracrystal windows showcased the city's urbanized soul, and hid its true depths beneath. The people strolling quietly along the grand courtyards gave the place a peaceful feel.
But cracks were evident, if one looked close enough. Sith patrols skirted the edges of the commercial plazas, causing nearby Tarisian citizens to scurry away in caution. Multiple soldiers guarded every turbo-lift we came across – anywhere from three to six of them – which made me wonder if the Sith had any sort of standard operating procedure, or were still scrabbling to tighten their hold on the Tarisian transport network.
Instinct propelled me to keep moving, to keep searching. Somewhere, I hoped, would be an exit to the lower levels with a smaller guard. A sole soldier we might be able to find a way around, but three or more was getting beyond tricky.
Our path took us through a maze of towering apartment buildings that were emblazoned with the insignia Czerka Condominiums. Tinted windows rose up majestically on all sides, but also blocked out a fair amount of natural light as we silently cut between them. Carth rested his hand on his hip warily, above where his blaster was concealed.
It was effectively a small maze of alleys, and with surprise we found them to be deserted. Turning a corner, I could see the sunlight ahead that signified the end of the high-rise buildings.
A few metres into the bright light, a pair of armoured Humans loomed menacingly over an old man. My muscles tensed in reflex, halting any further movement, keeping me safely concealed in the shadows while I took in the unfolding confrontation.
Carth stilled at my side, the briefest puff of air his only indication of surprise. I sensed rather than saw his finger slowly unclip the gun at his belt.
To my astonishment, one of the Humans up ahead raised a blaster. In full daylight- in an obvious, overt motion. Their audacity was surprising – there might not be any Sith around right now but that didn't mean they weren't lurking beyond the next corner. Yet these thugs – both wearing heavy combat suits that were jarringly out of place in the Upper City – hardly seemed concerned about starting a firefight in broad daylight.
They're Exchange thugs. Garbed for combat the way they are, they've probably come up from the lower levels. Which immediately posed the question – how are they getting around the Sith quarantine?
"But I don't have that much!" I heard the old man cry. "How can I give you credits I don't have?"
I moved to evade the incident, giving them as wide a berth as possible to get past – more because of Onasi's continued hounding at staying inconspicuous than any real desire to. Part of me wanted to barge up to the creeps and tell them to sod off and leave the harassed man alone, while another part just wanted to join in what looked like an oncoming fight. I thought I was rather restrained in ignoring both desires.
"That's too bad," one of the thugs responded in a sinister voice. "You brought this on yourself, you know. Davik can't afford to let you run free for no cash return. But don't worry, I promise it'll be quick."
Ah, Davik, the Exchange boss Kebla warned me about. These guys probably paid the Sith to turn a blind eye to their operations. That's how they get around. If they were Exchange agents, then it made sense to ignore the confrontation altogether. To my surprise, Carth nudged me surreptitiously.
I quirked an eyebrow at him, and he nodded sharply towards the old man.
"Look, I know we have to be careful about drawing attention to ourselves," Carth hissed, "but are we just going to let them drag this guy off?"
Well, he doesn't need to convince me.
"No – help! Somebody help!" the man yelled, glancing around frantically. "They're going to kill me!" He spotted us further back in the shadow of the apartments, and his eyes gained the fervent glint of the desperately hopeful. The armoured goons followed his gaze just as Carth's hand inched underneath that ghastly jacket.
I really had to dispose of that orange eyesore soon.
"Well, well," one of them drawled, as he eyed us over. "Looks like we got ourselves a witness here."
The second guy sneered. "Davik doesn't like witnesses."
I could feel a smirk forming on my face, and reckless took over with swift ease, dominating any caution or reason. "I don't like your attitude," I mocked. "I'd better teach you a lesson!" With the words flowing from my mouth, my hand shot underneath the dark coat and withdrew my vibrosword.
"Guess we have to teach you to mind your own business!" the first man yelled, swinging his blaster away from the merchant to point to me. Hazily I was aware of Carth edging over to the right to get a clear shot, but my mind was mostly focused on one thought: I need more time. The distance between me and the thugs was about twenty metres, and they were already aiming ranged weapons at me.
I need more time.
My muscles tensed as I began to sprint towards them, and suddenly everything around me seemed to slow down and stretch. The first Human had already loosed a blaster shot in my direction, and I saw the laser beam coalesce toward me like a slow-motion holovid replay. I dodged to the right, just in time. It seemed an eternity until I reached the thug. He was halfway to drawing out a stun baton when I stabbed my blade into his throat. His scream ended in a drawn out gurgle. Music to my ears. I turned to face the other guy. No! Killing is wrong! He was already falling to the ground, shot fatally by Carth.
My surroundings snapped back into place instantly, and I staggered as time took on its normal speed.
What... what the frell just happened? Carth walked over to me, shoving his blaster back underneath his jacket. He doesn't look alarmed. That speed... that eerie feeling... it happened to me alone.
"Wow, you're fast," Carth said in amazement. Something close to respect passed over his face. "Crazy, but fast!"
I forced a fake smile on my face, struggling to contain how unsettled I felt. Better not mention it to Onasi. He already thinks I'm nuts as it is. It had possibly saved my life, though. I couldn't ignore that.
"Thank you – I owe you my life!" the old man gushed in disbelief. "Those bounty hunters were going to take me away and kill me! My wife warned me not to take a loan from Davik."
My eyes shot to the man; he was positively shining with awe and gratitude. You should have listened to her, then. What kind of idiot borrows credits from the Exchange and then can't pay them back?
"Now I can't pay him back. It's not good to owe a crime lord money." Well, duh. "He'll just keep sending more bounty hunters after me until I'm dead!"
I shouldn't judge him, Jen commented piously. Maybe I can help.
"You already helped me by saving me from those bounty hunters!" the man continued. I blinked. Sithspit, did I say that out loud? "So unless you have a spare hundred credits to give me so I can pay off Davik, there's nothing else you can do."
We do have spare credits, now. My hand was delving in my pockets automatically, coming out with a handful of plastic, disposable chits. "Here's a hundred credits, take them."
No! I'm a brainless space slug! What am I doing?
The man lifted his hands up, a look of stunned awe creasing his worried face. I stalled as I made to release the chits into his grasp.
He needs them more than we do, Jen whispered.
He needs a blaster shot to the head. The best use for a moron like this one is fertilizer! Evil Bitch sneered.
That's… that's simply despicable!
I shuddered, and dropped the plasteel tokens into his grimy paws. Shut up. Just shut up – both of you! There was a faint easing in my mind, as if the conflicting voices backed away a few steps. My breath released in a rush, and I forced a friendly, fake expression on my face.
"You're giving me a hundred credits? Just like that?" the man spluttered. "I- I don't know what to say! Thank you! Thank you!"
"Generous," Carth murmured at my side, and the old man smiled tremulously at us both before slipping the credits into a pocket. He bowed and left, muttering something about paying Davik. My gaze slid to Carth, who was looking at me in vague surprise. Maybe this will assist at convincing Flyboy I'm one of the good guys. Maybe that's a silver lining, at least.
For we might be kitted up for the Undercity, but we certainly weren't in a position to be throwing away credits on any needy passerby we crossed paths with.
I nodded at Carth, not willing to let myself talk. My mind was in turmoil. I'd given that money away without thinking. It seemed I needed to control Jen as well as Evil Bitch. I'm going mad. I need to get out of Taris, off this planet. Carth began striding away, and I followed him in a daze. He was keen to leave the area – and the corpses – well behind. I will. I will get out of here - just as soon as I rescue Onasi's girlfriend.
Would it be that simple, though? Would a Jedi let me go? Maybe killing her would be the better option. No, that'd be suicide. That'd be wrong!
My mouth twisted and I rubbed at the side of my head, overcome by a sudden surge of dizziness. I said, shut up! I had to stop thinking. I had to stop my mind warring with itself.
And I wasn't going to kill anyone unless I had to.
"Jen?" Carth's low voice caught my attention, and I belatedly realized I'd halted in the middle of a smallish retail courtyard. "You okay?"
I smiled, half-aware it likely looked like a pained grimace, and nodded abruptly. "Just a headache. I'll do."
He was frowning, eyes dark with worry. "Maybe we need a rest day, Jen. Maybe we should head to the Free Clinic instead." His gaze trailed up to the side of my head.
No, I didn't want to think. I wanted to act. And not just for my sake- "Every day risks Bastila, Onasi. I'll be fine." I looked away from him, surveying the boutique stores that lined this open area. In the middle stood a carved statue of a grim-looking Human, either made from ferracrystal or a cheaper variant of transparisteel. It sparkled in the golden Tarisian sunlight. And beyond, across the other side of the plaza, wound a small cul-de-sac that ended in the familiar durasteel shaft of a turbo-lift.
I saw the shape of one, sole, black-clad Sith soldier.
I felt a genuine grin curve my lips, and nudged Carth. "There," I murmured. "It's time our luck changed." He glanced in the direction I indicated, and his tight expression eased. When he glanced back to me, he was almost smiling. "Leave this to me, Onasi."
The conflicting emotions vanished like quicksilver as a sharp focus rose to cut through my mental turmoil. I strode forward, mind clear now apart from a thrumming confidence. I could do this. Chin up and shoulders back, I walked through the narrow cul-de-sac and approached the guard with a friendly expression.
The Sith spoke before I had a chance.
"Move along, citizen." The words were monotonous and bored. His tinted visor turned to face me.
"I just wanted to talk to one of our heroes," I gushed, stepping closer. I beamed at him. "How are you finding Taris? The streets are so much safer now you're here!"
There was a lengthy pause, and I felt a prickle of foreboding. He's not interested in flirting. And I'm too old to be playing the part of a worshipful teenager. The confidence dove-tailed into a flare of anger.
"This elevator is off-limits," he told me stonily. "And you need to learn the art of subtlety. Only Sith patrols and those with the proper authorisation are allowed into the Lower City."
I could just imagine Carth's knowing expression further behind me. My failure was embarrassing, but even more so- I felt angry. It shouldn't be so hard to just talk to the guy. In fact, getting past him should be a frelling cake-walk. The anger flushed heat into my cheeks, and I was suddenly aware of a charged prickling in the air. I hurriedly pasted on what I hoped was my most beguiling smile. "Where can I get authorisation?"
"If you were supposed to have it, you'd know where to get it!" he snapped. My frustration peaked and the static sensation intensified - almost as if I'd zap the first thing I touched.
"Now quit wasting my time and move along." The Sith flicked his hand in a dismissive wave.
Use the power at your command, you blind idiot. Instinct eclipsed my consciousness, and then I was speaking without any forethought at all.
"We wouldn't cause any trouble down there," I said, my words slow and deep.
"I – I guess you wouldn't cause any trouble down there," the guard returned, this time in a hesitant voice.
The hairs raised on my exposed forearms, and still the dark instinct prevailed. "So you can let me and my friend through." The words dropped in the air like invisible ferracrete bricks, each one solid and powerful and commanding.
"I can let you through," the guard echoed in a dull tone, and stepped aside.
A hot rush of confusion swamped me, clouding my thoughts and emotions. I felt beads of sweat break out on the back of my neck, and yet somehow I was cognizant enough to just keep moving. Sun and stars. This is the Force. What else could it be? I glanced over my shoulder to see Carth, jaw dropped, staring at me as my hand pressed on the elevator control and the doors opened. Carth would have been too far away to hear the actual words spoken, but I'd still need to explain my success. Somehow.
I threw Carth a tight smile and motioned him into the lift. He strode forward, and we were silent until the doors closed and the lift began a slow, creaking descent.
He cleared his throat. I raised an eyebrow at the brown eyes staring guardedly at me. "What in the blazes did you say to him?" he asked, his voice a blend of suspicion and confusion.
"I told him we wouldn't be any trouble," I replied, inwardly wincing. Somehow, I had the feeling I was usually better at cover stories. Although, it was the truth. I forced a grin that I hoped was impish rather than false. "I dunno. Guess he thought I was cute or something."
There was a loud grinding noise from above, and we paused, staring warily at the elevator's ceiling. As the lift continued to decline without any difference in its velocity, we both relaxed.
Carth turned to face me again. "Seriously. Even the Sith have standards." But his mouth was twitching, and I threw him a pretend glare. "What exactly did you say?"
It wasn't what I said, Captain Flyboy. It was how I said it. It had to be the Force. The speed earlier, against those thugs. The final pazaak game. I had no idea what I was doing, and it was overwhelming.
"I already told you, Onasi." I shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know why he let me past. But it's a good thing he did."
We lapsed back into silence, and I was aware of Carth taking my measure, staring at me from behind those damn wary eyes of his.
"Do you know," he said slowly, "I've seen Jedi talk their way past people in a similar fashion. And you were onboard the Endar Spire due to a specific request by the Jedi." Carth drew in a breath and looked away before continuing. "I learnt a long time ago that something which looks like a coincidence probably isn't. Especially when the Jedi are involved."
I snorted. "What, you think Jedi Shan took me aside to teach me Force tricks every rest day?"
"I, uh, no-"
"I saw her a handful of times, Onasi," I said flatly, speaking over him. The memory was fuzzy and indistinct, much like the rest of my time onboard the Endar Spire. "The only other Jedi I saw was that hefty Cerean who kept throwing archaeological extracts my way. Stars, all I did there was read the sodding archives."
I couldn't remember the Cerean's name, other than he was old and a Jedi, like Bastila Shan. But I wasn't interested in recalling details right now – I was interested at throwing Carth off-balance enough that he'd stop questioning matters. For, I knew, he had every right to be suspicious.
His eyes narrowed. "Look, it's just a lot of things about you don't add up, okay?"
"Like what?" I snapped defensively. He certainly wasn't prepared to believe I could sweet-talk my way past a Sith guard. That actually rankled a bit.
"Well, uh- I don't know, how about the fact you survived the crash?" His words were low and irritated, and I could sense he was slowly getting wound up.
I stared at him blankly, confused. Isn't that just as odd as him surviving? "You'd rather I hadn't?"
"Don't be ridiculous," he shot back. "It just seems odd that someone Bastila's party specifically requested to transfer aboard happened to survive."
What is he saying? My brow twisted in annoyance. Carth's suspicion was warranted, but I couldn't follow his logic here. Why was it less trustworthy that the survivor had been contracted by the Jedi? I looked away, stonily refusing to respond.
The turbo-lift descended further and further in the bowels of Taris, and I realized I had no idea where this one would end. I hoped Carth did.
I kept hold of my anger, though. It made me feel alive and whole, like my senses were peaked by a glitterstim high. And honestly, Onasi was being unreasonable.
As the lift's descent began to decelerate, I turned to glare at him.
"Are you implying I had something to do with the crash?"
"No!" he answered quickly, and the lift stopped with a shudder.
The doors opened, and I walked out. We'd exited into a warren of artificially-lit corridors, decorated with tattered holo-posters advertising various goods. Graffiti was scrawled haphazardly along the walls; gang slogans or general profanities in varying shades of colour. The place was filthy – rubble and waste littered the ground, and the posters were grimy and damaged in places.
And behind me, Carth mumbled, "Well, maybe."
"Oh thanks!" I yelled, turning back to glare at him. My muscles clenched, and I could feel the all too familiar fury taking hold again. Must calm down. I gritted my teeth, and forced in a deep breath. "It doesn't make any difference. Go ahead and be paranoid."
"I'm not trying to be paranoid!" he snapped, and I could see the anger crease his face also. He's getting just as pissy as me. Faint shouts drifted from around the corner, but the noise barely registered.
Carth was glowering, dark eyes flashing with irritation. With a concerted effort to restrain himself, he opened his mouth once more. "Look," he finished softly, "I'm probably wrong, and this is probably nothing, I know. But I learned a long time ago not to take anything at face value. And I hate surprises."
The shouts became louder, and my annoyance with Onasi vanished as I looked ahead. Sounds like blaster fire. If we're running into gang fights already, then Kebla wasn't exaggerating. Carth whipped around in the direction of the noise, then turned back to glance at me. We nodded briskly at each other, argument forgotten, and both drew weapons before slowly edging down the corridor. As we rounded the corner, I spotted three aliens standing over a pile of corpses.
One of them looked up. "(More strangers!)" he hissed in a foreign dialect. All three were garbed in similarly coloured armour - red slashed with black - and as one they began to raise their weapons.
But I was taken aback. I understood that. I have no idea what language he just spoke, but I understood that.
Carth opened fire, and I raced towards them, vibrosword raised. The same battle rage once more consumed me, expanding through my body in a blazing heat as I lost control of my senses and any rational thought. The gang members surrounded me, each with stun sticks and blades, and I could dimly hear Carth shouting at me to get out of the fray. I dodged the first swipe, and swung my blade towards a neck, but the guy stepped backwards. The alien on my left snarled, jabbing a blade towards me. I jumped forward just in time, knocking the first gang member down with my sword.
I felt a piercing pain glance my shoulder, and numbly realized the third creep had pulled a blaster on me.
"Jen, get out of there!" Carth yelled.
I'm not going down to this scum! Thoughts raged through my head. These imbeciles should be afraid of me! An unbidden sense of power surged through me, uncontrolled. Two of the gang members instantly gave out synchronized yelps, dropped their weapons, and ran. A sense of shock assailed my fury, but battle sense prevailed and I turned to face the third guy. He looks as confused as me. Nonplussed, he stood stock still as Onasi shot him in the side. He crumpled.
"How odd," Carth said as he walked closer. "Why did they just run off like that?"
"Beats me," I said distantly, wondering myself. I'm using the Force without realizing it. Without any understanding of what I'm doing. There was a crawling sensation under my skin. I guess I can't let this power worry me too much, it seems to save my neck, the rational side of me pointed out. And it's so much fun, a darker side added. Not if I can't control it!
Carth shook his head in guarded disbelief. "Your luck is amazing, Jen. I was certain that was your end. Look, your battle sense is non-existent, and it's driving me crazy with worry every time we get into trouble. Could you please not run into the middle of fights like that?"
"I'll try," I muttered, kneeling down next to the gang member and searching him efficiently. The corpse held nothing of use – I didn't need a stun stick and the blaster was one of those five hundred cred Czerka models that were guaranteed to overheat in the middle of a firefight. I stood up in disgust.
"Frankly, I don't understand why you're still standing." Carth was still frowning at me.
Because I'm good, you idiot. But was I, really? I'd raced into the fray, there, when we could have fired from a distance. I'd allowed myself to be surrounded, rather than taking out the first one I approached. It was as if some dark, sick side of me relished the challenge - and believed in my own immortality.
I shuddered, and Carth's frown deepened. Once more, his concern seemed to war with his mistrust, and he sighed, before dusting himself off. "Well, we're not hurt, so let's get our bearings and find out what to do next."
I nodded, and we proceeded further down the large walkway. We passed boarded-in openings that once, eons ago, were windows. Halogen lighting framed the ceiling, but in many places the lights were off – some smashed, some blacked out due to a likely electrical fault. Somehow, I didn't think building maintenance was a lucrative career choice in the Lower City.
As we walked in silence, both listening intently for any sounds of further battle, I became aware of a foreign consciousness returning to my thoughts. Bastila, I realized with mingled irritation and unease. Great. She's waking. There was a sense of drowsy frustration.
I will not be silenced again!
I stumbled in surprise. That wasn't my thought, was it? A sense of shock echoed mine, and Bastila's presence focused on me, like it had done back on the Endar Spire. I felt the familiar taste of fear and confusion, and tried to back off mentally. Obviously something else caught the Jedi's attention, as the focus seemed to dissipate somewhat. But she's awake now. A chill prickled down my spine. I can't afford to lose my temper again.
Carth was looking at me expectantly, and I realized he'd said something.
"Sorry – what?"
"I said, do you want to try this cantina for some info, first?"
I glanced up ahead, and spotted a lurid neon sign brightly proclaiming 'Javyar's Cantina' to all and sundry. It looked somehow out of place in this dark corridor. "Sure."
"Good, you can try your hand at pazaak again." He grinned at me.
I felt a little uneasy at the thought. I've got to practice this, though. Each time I'm reacting on instinct – whether it's in combat or conversation. I need to learn how to control this. It was pragmatic and true, and I gave Carth a nod of assent.
The bouncer outside the cantina gave us a quick once-over before allowing us entry.
It was a far cry from the Upper City cantina. The entrance room split into a dance area at the back and a pazaak den to the left. Thick cigarra smoke mingled with giggledust steam, and I guessed the air recirculators here weren't the most efficient. Soulful music from a trio of Bith brass players undercut the murmured conversation of busy patrons, most of whom wore some variant of armour.
The Upper City cantina had been scruffier and more low-brow than the rest of the Upper City, but Javyar's cantina was a step down further. Nothing too overtly illicit – most of the people here seemed at ease and jovial with one another. I found myself liking the place.
Carth nudged me expectantly, indicating the pazaak den.
"A drink, first." I replied.
He frowned at me. "No drinkin-"
"Just one, I promise," I laughed at him, and turned back to the bar that graced the centre of the cantina. Behind the bar I spotted three gang members walking towards a mercenary, in that forced casual stroll that just screamed violence to any experienced eye. They wore scuffed red armour slashed with black, the same colours as the aliens we encountered earlier. My, the action is certainly thick and fast down here, isn't it? The bartender, a thickset older Duros, looked on in alarm, his dark red eyes widening.
"Go away," the mercenary said loudly. His armour, a customized blue-and-white exoskeleton, looked formidable, and I could spot three different blasters on his person. The man unusually short, but his ready stance coupled with his equipment immediately showcased him as an experienced fighter. Inwardly, I pegged him as the superior to the three thugs who were spoiling for a fight.
"Hey, you not talk like that!" one of the gang members – a Rodian - said jovially, in broken Basic. "We just want say hi to big, bad bounty hunter Calo Nord!"
"Nah, this can't be Calo Nord," a Human piped up from behind the Rodian. "He's supposed to be tough. This guy's nothing but a runt!"
I kept my eye on the ensuing confrontation. They're just asking for trouble. I could sense Carth tensing as he recognized danger. This is not the sort of guy I would taunt lightly. Even if he is short.
"One," Calo Nord said ominously. He had a hand tucked into a bulky utility belt, I noted with suspicion.
"One? What that mean? You be funny, tough guy?"
Oh, so they're stupid as well.
"Two."
"Me no understand." The Rodian shrugged. "One? Two? Why he count? He trying to count how many of us against him?"
"It's three against one, Calo," the Human sneered. "What do you think about those odds?"
"Three," Calo finished, and his hand whipped out from his utility belt. I instinctively pulled myself back into the pazaak den as a bright flash sheered through the place, followed by the sound of three blaster bolts.
By the time I poked my head back into the cantina, I saw Calo Nord re-hook his blaster to his hip, kick the casing of the flash grenade to the side of the room, and nonchalantly step over the corpses on his way out. I couldn't help an involuntarily snigger as I eyed over the remains of the three brainless thugs.
Carth shot me a disgusted look. He'd ducked back into the pazaak den also, unlike some of the cantina patrons deeper in the main room who were rubbing their eyes and cursing in a variety of languages. The barman was scowling at the mess on the floor. "Did you just find that funny?" Carth demanded.
"No." Yes.
"Really? I heard you laugh," he said in a sarcastic tone.
"I didn't laugh!" I sniggered.
"It sounded like a laugh to me."
"I had something in my throat, okay?" I snapped.
"Right," he said coldly.
Suddenly I didn't feel like a drink anymore. "Let me just go and play some pazaak. Give me your credits."
"You sound like one of Davik's thugs when you say that," he groused, but handed over his money anyway. In total, we had just over two hundred credits left. I did well enough against the juniors in the Upper City, before I faced Niklos. Now, if I could just figure out how to replicate that mind trick, I'd be one step closer to understanding my own abilities – and I'd be able to make us a small fortune.
xXx
I couldn't believe it. I simply couldn't understand. Why didn't that work? Why couldn't I feel anything? My mind was screaming with frustration.
"You- you lost all our credits?" Carth looked flabbergasted. "How? You won everything in Upper Taris!"
"I guess luck just wasn't with me!" I snapped back.
"Then why didn't you cut your losses? You threw away over two hundred credits!"
"I tried, alright?" I scowled. Gelrood just laughed at me when I suggested he stand with 13. Why? Why? The second player I tried just told me to stop acting like a juiced-up spacer! That energy, that charge all around me – it simply wasn't there anymore. Have I been using the Force, or not? If so, why has it suddenly failed me?
"So we're totally broke, great going Jen." Carth obviously felt he needed to make me feel even worse.
"Not totally," I shot back at him sweetly. "I have just enough left for a whiskey, so excuse me."
I stormed off in the direction of the bartender.
xXx
