Kosiah owns the last line, so send her fan mail if you enjoy it. What's with me being unable to think of all these amazing last lines lately? ;)
"…It had rolled under the seat of her escape pod."
Sarii put a hand up to her mouth to curtail her raucous laughter, which made a few locals and traders glance up as they re-entered the complex.
She and Mira walked on either side of the Admiral, who smirked and shook his head as he told his story.
"Without her lightsaber, Bastila was just one twenty-something Padawan against ten or fifteen scarred and ugly Black Vulkars. Needless to say, she didn't give them much trouble…physical trouble, anyways."
Sarii remembered Bastila Shan well from her days in the dormitories of the Jedi Temple and the Dantooine enclave:
"This is our responsibility as Jedi and members of the Republic," one of the other Padawans said, smacking his fist into his palm to emphasize his point.
Sarii nodded with a few of the others in agreement. They sat in a circle on the floor of one of the meditation rooms, talking quietly. They had considered speaking through the Force, but that would attract the notice of the Masters for sure. As it was they all kept glancing over their shoulders to see if any of the Masters had awakened, if one of them was heading down the darkened hallways to interrupt the meeting and demote them all back to apprentice.
Padawan Bastila was the only one that did not react. She sat off to the side, her legs folded in front of her, her posture straight and tapered.
"Padawan Bastila, you're not thinking of bolting to the Council to tell them about this meeting, are you?" a recently promoted Jedi Twi'lek murmured.
Bastila's cobalt eyes sparkled indignantly and she somehow managed to hold her head higher. Sarii didn't feel the least bit sorry for her, even with the blush creeping into her cheeks. The sixteen-year-old Padawan had done that very thing at their first secret gathering after dark.
"I am wise enough to respect the wisdom of the Masters," Bastila said flatly. "Rushing into war is a-"
"-a fool's venture, thank you, Master Vrook," another Padawan mocked, rolling his eyes.
Sarii laughed softly with the rest of the Jedi.
"There were a few bounties out on the one you're talking about," Mira said wryly. "Sounds like someone could have collected on her easily."
"Now don't get me wrong," Onasi continued, "Bastila's an incredible woman. It was her Battle Meditation that destroyed the Star Forge. The Republic owes a lot of its victories to her-"
"Battle Meditation is becoming more and more common in Padawans nowadays," Sarii commented. The heat of the dock seemed overwhelming. She was sweating and she reached to loosen the collar of her clothing.
Onasi shrugged. "That's what she said when she offered to come along on this trip. She thought the bond she has with Katrina might help us in finding her. But I told her to stay in case the threat reached the Republic and they needed her abilities."
"A bond?" Mira repeated, brushing strands of her red hair out of her eyes. "If that's as good as a couple star maps, that'd be fine with me. As of right now I'd settle for a Zabrak shaman pointing west."
Onasi hefted the hyperdrive parts protectively in his arms, as if they made up a rather metallic child.
"I'm not really too eager to continue a slow drift through uncharted space either. We should work on finding those maps you mentioned, maybe the ones of the trade route-"
The Admiral trailed off as Atton approached. Sarii wished her pilot didn't look so guilty; slouching with his hands in his pockets and a guarded scowl on his face. She could already see Onasi's eyes narrowing as he compared the numbers before him with the numbers he had left behind.
"Looks like you found your parts," Atton offered, rubbing his neck and looking at Sarii although he was addressing the Admiral. A large bruise festered under the pale skin on his right cheekbone.
"Looks like you managed to get kicked out of another cantina," Mira observed.
"Where's Mical?" Sarii asked.
"Still in the cantina," Atton replied, gesturing back towards the bar.
"Where's Dustil?" Onasi added. "He was with you when I left."
"He was…but he disappeared."
The Admiral's gaze grew sharper until his eyes were two thin slits off-set by a frown. "Disappeared? Dustil doesn't just disappear."
Atton shrugged; that defensive hard look already in his eyes.
"Hey, he's a Jedi, right? Jedi are good at disappearing. We were asking around after your wife, and—"
"Did anyone say anything? Was she—no, no, wait," Onasi's momentary distraction by the mention of Revan didn't last long. He shook his head, lifting a hand to stop Atton before he could answer. "Later. Where's my son, Rand?"
"I said I don't know, Admiral. Asking me twenty times isn't going to change my answer," Atton replied icily.
"You better watch yourself - I don't like being accused of something I didn't do," Atton Rand pointed a finger menacingly towards her, and Sarii actually leaned back despite the fact that he was still in the security cage.
"When I kill someone, trust me, you'll know. Got it?"
Onasi opened his mouth to reply, but to Sarii's relief he was interrupted by Mical, who came jogging up the corridor to meet them.
Her Padawan looked disheveled. Most of it was his rumpled clothing and matted hair, but a large part of it was the giant black eye marring his otherwise calm expression.
"They've all been detained and imprisoned," he informed them. "There was an altercation between a group of mercenaries and Dustil interfered—"
Sounds Jedi enough, I guess, Sarii thought, trying to give Revan's Padawan the benefit of the doubt.
"They ushered him out of the cantina, presumably to beat him senseless. Atton and I followed and tried to disengage Jedi Dustil but he seemed…somewhat invested in the fight."
Mical reached to brush his sweaty hair back on top of his head, frowning.
"Shortly before anything beyond a few fists could be used, the Danok port security forces showed up. They marched off with half the mercenaries and Jedi Dustil."
Mical's summarization was met with an assortment of facial expressions. Atton stared at the ground, turning his foot to scrape some imaginary dirt off his other boot. Sarii slowly reached back to tighten her ponytail, biting her lip.
The expression that worried her most was Onasi's—his glare, fixed on Atton, hadn't changed at all. Compared to Mical, the pilot was suspiciously unscathed beyond his bruise.
"Mercs? What kind of mercs?" Mira finally broke in. "Were they from around here, or Republic space? Are they bounty hunters?"
"One would assume bounty hunters if they were more interested in beating him up rather than shooting him on sight," Mical replied thoughtfully.
"I'm going to put these parts on my ship," Onasi broke in abruptly. His shoulders stiffened at the phrase 'shooting him on sight'. "Stay here. When I get back, we're going to find Dustil and then get the hell off of this rock."
"Yes sir, Admiral," Atton muttered after him mockingly. Either Onasi didn't hear, or he chose not to react. Sarii watched his brisk pace continue down the corridor until he was back near the blocks for distribution docking.
"They might be planning something," the pilot murmured quietly to her. "The other half of the mercs went straight to their ship, which was somewhere in the direction of the receiving ports, near the Hawk. They kept grumbling about how their captain was going to be pretty fracked off at having to give up credits to get his men out of jail. Then the one said they'd make up for it with the Jedi. Must mean the kid."
"Why didn't you tell Daddy over there that?" Mira said, tossing a hand up in the air. "You might have saved yourself some glowering-"
"Because I'd like to know just why the hell he finds me so offensive. And people don't tell you things like that when you're all polite and helpful-like," Atton snapped at the bounty hunter. He met Sarii's gaze, glaring stubbornly.
The Admiral must know somehow…he must know Atton's past, Mical suggested.
That's the only explanation, I suppose, Sarii agreed silently. The pilot raised an eyebrow and she fidgeted, uncomfortable even though he couldn't know what their conversation entailed.
He must know what Atton did, Sarii thought to herself. What Atton is-
No, what Atton was.
Still, she couldn't help wondering just how famous of a Sith assassin and conversion artist Atton Rand had been if members of the Republic Fleet knew of his reputation.
"Are you all right, Mical?" Her Padawan nodded, lifting his chin. The frown was still on his face as his gaze focused on the back of Atton's head.
"Physical injury is a small price to pay for possibly averting needless death-"
"Hell, Mical, why don't you go get yourself a statue bronzed or something?" Atton snapped, whirling on him. "Yeah, I stayed out of that fight and I'm not ashamed of it. I'm not getting thrown in jail again, definitely not for a fight I didn't start or some punk Admiral's son—"
"The local patrons of the cantina had little to say about Revan, in any case," Mical continued, ignoring the pilot. "She seems to have covered her tracks well. One wonders if the thought that someone would try to follow her had crossed her mind-"
"Later, Padawan," Sarii instructed curtly, straightening up as she noticed Onasi heading back towards them. His blaster was out of its holster and seemed like an extension of his hand rather than a weapon, with the way he swung his arm as he walked as if he wasn't holding anything at all.
"We should move quickly," she said to the Admiral. "Whatever happened between your son and the mercenaries might be enough that they're planning to retaliate. I think they might be docked in a receiving port, near the Ebon Hawk."
Sarii forced herself not to look at Atton; scrambling to come up with an alternate source for the information. But Onasi only nodded, apparently unconcerned with how she knew.
"Right. Let's go."
The Danok port security office was on the complete other side of the circular building. Two armored guards stood outside its mechanical door, dressed in dark brown uniforms with hard metallic-looking hats.
"I sure hope you have some bail credits, Admiral," Mira said. "We're kind of on the low side."
"I've got half a mind to leave him in there if he didn't start that fight for a damn good reason," Onasi grumbled, but Sarii sensed anxiety building under the gruff, no-nonsense demeanor he had adopted since returning from his ship.
She stepped towards the guard sitting behind the desk in the security office's entryway.
"Excuse me, we're looking for a young man who we think was arrested maybe an hour ago-"
The guard glanced up at her. He had a closely shaved head of blonde hair underneath his hat, and he gave Sarii a once-over before continuing.
"Wouldn't happen to be part of the cantina brawl, would he?"
"The ringleader," Atton called out. Sarii heard him stifle a yelp of pain as Mira kicked him in the ankle.
"Jail's empty," the guard replied. "Security forces brought in the crew of a docked ship, and their captain posted bail a while ago."
"There wasn't a younger one who wasn't dressed like the rest of them? He may have been carrying a lightsaber," Onasi murmured, obviously trying to sound careless.
"We confiscated that and all of their weapons, of course. They left the lightsaber behind when we returned their belongings to them, however. Said they didn't need it. I don't blame 'em. Some stupid new property master already sliced a finger off trying to handle it. Had to send him to the infirmary-"
"Right, the weapons are gone and so is the crew," Sarii continued far more patiently than she felt. "But what I want to know is-"
"There was one who looked different, but he left voluntarily along with the crew when their captain showed up, so we didn't question it."
The guard put his datapad down on the computer console, folding his arms and leaning over it towards them.
"Lemme guess. Your kid got sick of herding tateks and decided he was going to come up to the glamorous world of Danok and see the exotic exporters from all around the galaxy, maybe even join a crew-"
The guard's eyes went from Sarii to the Admiral, who stood next to her.
"You know, you farmers really ought to start keeping a handle on your kids," he began in a lecturing tone, "The only trouble I ever get in this jail is local kids coming down here for a drink, screwing around with the exporters, and starting fights. I'm getting damn sick of it-"
Sarii exchanged a glance with Onasi and realized that the guard thought they were Dustil's parents. Both involuntarily took a step away from each other.
"Listen, there's been a mistake," the Admiral said, moving in front of her. "You just let a bunch of mercs take my son off somewhere-"
"And what do you expect me to do about it? Your son went voluntarily, sir-"
"Well, a lot of choice he had with you taking his weapon away!" Onasi sputtered.
"His weapon?"
Sarii tried not to make too obvious a point of brushing back the side of her clothing to reveal her double lightsaber hanging from her side. Mical stepped up next to her to display his as well, although he couldn't be taken quite as seriously with the giant violet circle around his eye.
"Master Jedi," the guard finally said, his tone flat like he expected to be decapitated at any minute. His hair looked like it had turned blonder for a minute until Sarii realized that the change in color was because of the sweat now lining his hairline.
"I didn't know he was one of yours-"
"She's not going to hurt you, soldier. Calm down," the Admiral murmured in a low voice. The guard watched him skeptically, his hands gripping the edges of the computer console until his knuckles were white.
"First we need that lightsaber," Sarii began. The guard nodded and disappeared into the back of the holding cells. He returned a moment later holding the weapon between thumb and forefinger like it was a piece of bantha droppings. Mical reached out and took it.
"Second, we need to know where the crew of mercs or bounty hunters or whatever they are docked."
"Port authority transfers all docking information and ID's over to us so we can monitor the docks," the guard explained nervously, turning to the console in front of him. Sarii wondered that his hand wasn't going straight through it for how hard he was pressing the buttons.
"Receiving port fifteen. Class eighty freighter. Registered as the Screamer."
"I don't much like the sound of that," Onasi murmured. He nodded to the guard, turned on his heel and started moving back down the corridor. Sarii stared after him. Her mouth twisted into a frown.
He asks me to find information on the Republic, then expects me to spend all my time helping his son ask questions about Revan and digging him out of the holes she's inevitably left behind—
"Third, we need to know what the deal is with the Jedi," Mira said quickly, coming towards the desk. "Do they control Teren?"
Good someone's remembering our priorities here, Sarii thought. I need something to send back to the Republic, besides the misadventures of Onasi and Son -
"Wouldn't it be easier for you to ask the Jedi with you?" the guard hissed towards Mira like she had just signed his death warrant.
"We would all appreciate your opinion," Mical prompted.
"The Jedi control the market on tateks. In that way they control the local economy. In that way, I suppose they do control Teren. I imagine they control most other planets in that way too," the guard said, moving through his explanation step by step, watching Sarii and Mical in case the next part would be a step too far.
"But every planet in our sector of space is self-governed, whether the Jedi are in power or the local government is in place."
The guard gained maybe a drop of confidence as he said this, lifting his head slightly from where it was lowered in deference to Sarii and her Padawan.
Onasi was becoming smaller and smaller as he moved down the hallway, and Sarii was going to lose sight of him soon.
I'm not going to do this the entire trip, she swore to herself. I'm not going to compromise my responsibilities to the Order and the Republic to help him search for Revan and rescue her Padawan. Just this once and that's it.
"Thanks for your help," she tossed over her shoulder towards the guard, who looked so bewildered and exhausted by their frantic questioning that he half-slumped over the computer console as they began to walk at a fast pace back down the corridor to catch up with the Admiral.
The docks were much as they had left them; generally uneventful. The hum of announcements over audio systems, ships landing and taking off, and the sound of tools clinking against ship parts were occasionally pierced by the roar of a terentatek.
"Fifteen…it's over there," Onasi pointed with the barrel of his blaster, stopping so suddenly that Mira bumped into him.
The Screamer sat bulky and rusted in its dock. Two armored members of its crew, one human and a Twi'lek, stood guard outside.
"And how do we get onboard?" Mical murmured to no one in particular.
"First you find out if the thing has shields." Without any warning, Atton raised his arm and fired one shot towards the top of the ship. Sarii cringed along with everyone else, waiting for the loud shriek of the shields fluxing around the ship in response to the blaster fire; waiting for every dock worker to notice or a terentatek to get out of control.
Atton's shot hit the plating and disappeared into the hull without making anything bigger than a scorch mark. The two guards didn't even notice.
"Maybe it would be a good idea if you went to the Hawk and got it ready for takeoff," Sarii said, frowning.
"I guess we should be thankful that the security forces around here aren't half as efficient as the TSF," Onasi muttered, continuing around the dock towards number fifteen.
"Oh, you mean those guys who arrested us, threw us in jail, and let our ship be stolen the minute we landed on Telos—"
"You know, Rand, I understand that the Republic's the good guys and everything, but even so I don't think it's the best idea to antagonize the leader of their Fleet," Mira snapped, yanking Atton out of the Admiral's line of fire and towards the Ebon Hawk, lying across the dock at number twelve. "Especially when said leader's got a pretty solid 'in' with a former Sith Lord."
Sarii stayed close to Onasi, Mical treading on her heels. She held her lightsaber in her hands, unextended but ready should she need it.
"Care to get rid of the guards?" the Admiral whispered, pausing around the wide outstretched wing of the ship.
Sarii eyed him in surprise as she complied. Her hand lifted, twitched, and the guards jogged around the corner of the ship in search of an imaginary mynock squealing against some power cables.
"You know a lot about the Force."
Onasi shrugged, lowering his blaster, glancing around, and taking a few furtive steps up the lowered gangplank.
"You don't live with two Jedi for eight years without learning how to use one."
The minute Sarii stepped into the Screamer, she was taken back to one of the unpleasantries of being in a war: having to give commands to camps of men who smelled worse than a bantha's backside. The freighter reeked like something or ten somethings had died on it and half the lighting flickered; either broken or waiting to be replaced. She and Mical extended their lightsabers to help them see.
She reached out for anything Force-sensitive, unused to having to look for Dustil Onasi and unsure as to how to look for him specifically. There was a strong presence coming from the back of the ship, and Sarii went towards it, crinkling up her nose and stepping over weapons, armor, provisions, and the general belongings of a crew of mercs.
The glow of the Force cage illuminated the otherwise littered cargo hold, full of empty containers and footlockers.
"You sure took your sweet time," Dustil Onasi said, pushing himself up from where he'd been leaning against the metal base of the cage.
The Admiral lowered his blaster, sighing in relief.
"Are you all right?"
"I'll be all right as soon as you get me out of this thing."
Dustil didn't look much worse for the wear, although the Jedi's clothing was ripped in several places, and a scrape over the side of his face was now dark red with dried blood.
"Revan was here," Dustil commented as he waited for his father and Mical to figure out the controls to the Force cage. "She stopped by the cantina and asked a lot of questions, none of which anyone can remember."
"I also managed to converse with a gentleman who saw Revan while she was on Teren," Mical added. "Apparently, he attempted to engage her in romantic dialogue."
Onasi's movements paused for the slightest moment and then he was back at the controls again. The Force cage disintegrated into nothing and Dustil Onasi stepped out, cracking his back.
"Exactly what was the origin of the dispute between the mercenaries that you got involved in, Dustil?" Mical murmured, handing the Jedi his lightsaber.
"They liked something I didn't want them liking," Dustil said curtly, avoiding his father's gaze.
"Oh no, don't even try and sneak this one by me. I know that look," Onasi said sharply. "Did that something have blonde hair and grey eyes?"
"It might have," Dustil replied loftily.
"Damn it, we don't have time for this! If you're going to knock out every man who thinks Tova's pretty, you're going to be knocking out half the galaxy—"
"You know, Father, I seem to remember something between you and another officer when I was real little over Mom-"
"That…that was different. I was young and stupid then, kind of like you are now—"
Sarii found herself staring in dumb amazement for at least thirty seconds.
We're standing in the middle of a ship called the Screamer manned by a dozen or so mercenaries or bounty hunters who were in the market for a Jedi all because of a girl?
"Gentlemen, can we kindly stop arguing about who fought over what and make a speedy exit from this ship?" Mical broke in curtly.
"In a minute," Dustil murmured, extending his lightsaber and peering around the corner in case any members of the Screamer's crew were boarding their ship.
Sarii couldn't help but notice the blazing red of his blade, looking so harsh and unforgiving when compared against Mical's soft blue or her double violet.
Dustil wandered towards the front of the ship, dead ending in the wide cockpit, almost large enough to be called a bridge.
"I thought they were just mercs, but they're more like bounty hunters- Jedi hunters, to be specific. When their captain showed up to post bail at the security office, he posted mine too. I guess I could have tried to fight them off, but I didn't want to put the port officers in danger, so I just let them take me. I figured you'd find me sooner or later."
"That's one hell of a risk, Dustil," Onasi said crossly, watching his son rifle through the computer consoles that lined the cockpit.
"Got it," Dustil announced, gesturing towards the screen. Sarii, Mical, and the Admiral crowded around to look.
"Their navigational charts cover the Outer Rim, but they only go straight to one other planet in the Unknown Regions. And that's this one," he said, pointing to a blinking dot on the small star map in front of them. "Remli Prime. I'm betting that's where they take all the Jedi they catch."
Okay, they call themselves Jedi, they intimidate the entire sector by being the sole market for most economies, which gives them control over the local governments, they need terentateks for some reason, and there's a Jedi hunting trade going on to a planet called Remli Prime-
"Ebon Hawk, we're returning to the ship," Mical said quietly into his comlink.
"You might want to get rid of the guards outside the Screamer first," came Atton's drawling reply.
Is there perhaps a way to render them unable to continue their hunt for Jedi? Mical murmured to Sarii. It is unjust to know what kind of threat they pose to the Order and to just let them continue-
"But don't worry," Atton added. "I've got it covered."
"I feel safer already," the Admiral muttered under his breath.