Chapter 10

Carth Onasi

There was an elation growing within him he hadn't felt in years. Not since Revan had agreed to let him give her a future had there been this energy fueling him onward. In his mind Carth was already planning for what would come next. He had a fair number of questions to ask of both Dustil and Revan. Though the important thing was to get Revan to safety aboard the Raptor. After there would be all the time in the world for questions.

Dustil led the way with confidence through the streets and the others followed. Even at the late hour a fair number of citizens still were strolling about. The groups urgent pace attracted a number of stares from people. On more than one occasion someone would point at Dustil excitedly then wave or call to him. If this fame meant anything to the young man Dustil didn't show it. He ignored the fans and continued to run.

The attractive shopping centers and the brightly lit gambling houses and nightclubs faded away. Carth realized they were running along the same path he'd taken with Jolee earlier that day. As they descended further into the slums the buildings began to look older, the streets became narrower and the crowds paid them less attention.

Carth was startled to recognize a few landmarks. They had walked this very avenue earlier, him and Jolee, venturing into the apartment towers to inquire of his lover and his son.

Were we really so close? he wondered.

And then the bar came into view. With the game over the crowds had gone. Their interest in Varn's Palace extending only to its access to the holonet. Dustil made for the front of the bar and veered left towards a narrow staircase set at the side of the building.

She was here. How far was I from her? Revan, I'm sorry but I'm here now gorgeous.

The staircase brought them above the bar. They dashed up, single file, with Zaalbar forced to bend nearly double to fit. At the top Dustil came to a skidding halt.

"Son, what - "

Carth saw what his son was looking at. One door stood wide open. There was a look of alarm in Dustil's face.

Canderous

It was easy to guess which apartment belonged to Revan. Neither he or Bastilla said a word when they reached the second floor landing and saw the open door. Soundlessly they drew their weapons and approached with caution.

The apartment was empty.

"Maybe Dustil took Revan with him," Canderous suggested without really believing it. Bastilla reattached her lightsaber to her belt. She shook her head with a sigh.

"No, there is something more sinister at work here," she said. "I can feel it."

They made a thorough search of the apartment. Not that it took long. The place was sparsely furnished and there were few possessions. A folded robe, the cut and color of a Jedi Padawan's, and a few packages of food was all the pair could find. Aside from the front room there was a bedroom in the back. The single bed had obviously been in use very recently. Canderous stood in the doorway and watched Bastilla lay a hand on the thin mattress.

The grizzled Mandalorian was intrigued by the expression which crossed the Jedi's face. He watched closely as she grabbed the foot of the mattress and flipped it back. Delicately Bastilla lifted the cloth bundle that had been revealed.

Canderous stepped forward as she unwrapped it. Tucked within the folds were two lightsaber hilts.

"This is Revan's," Canderous said recognizing one of the weapons.

"The other must be Dustil's," Bastilla said. She sighed and rewrapped the lightsabers. Her dark eyes turned a sorrowful look to Canderous. "This is not a good omen."

"Let's raise - "

He stopped talking, the hairs at the back of his neck standing up as years of finely honed instincts started telling him they were no longer alone. Swiftly Canderous spun to face the door bringing up his blaster as he did. At the same time the familiar bulk of Iridonian armor appeared in the doorway. Canderous fired first, the shot catching the startled interloper in the breastplate. Behind him Bastilla's lightsaber ignited and the small woman slipped around him to engage the Iridonian.

Biting off a vicious curse Canderous stepped to the side and fired again. The armored aggressor, recovering from his shock, abandoned his firearm in favor of a vibroblade. Bastilla fought him back, her blade moving in a blur as she countered the Iridonian moves. Canderous was careful with his aim, being certain to fire only when the Jedi was safely clear.

It was a well timed round from Canderous to the mans helmet which ended the fight. The Iridonian dropped in a heap to the apartment floor, his vibroblade clattering across under the table.

"We needed him alive!" Bastilla cried. The lightsaber was extinguished and hastily returned to her hip. She checked the body and glared at Canderous.

"Have you ever fought an Iridonian?" Canderous asked. "They don't surrender. Most of the time they'll keep attacking the bodies of their enemies long after their dead."

"It wasn't coincidence that he was here, he must have had information about Revan! If you'd let me handle it we could have asked him questions."

Canderous noted her fists were balled tightly at her sides. For some reason he found himself amused by it. Despite the Jedi's experience Bastilla was painfully naive about many things. He wondered if she actually expected to sit the Iridonian down at the table and listen to him share all he knew.

"He wouldn't have told you a thing," Canderous said. He took a breath and nodded at the limp form between them. "Besides, we know enough. We just have to look for someone rich and dumb enough to hire an Iridonian."

Sibba Motta

After declaring Dustil Onasi the victor of the nights duel the Hutt had immediately departed the stadium to return to his club. Utilizing his private entrance Motta avoided the lines of people waiting to enter the ground floor club which was already packed. En route he was pleased to be told the Iridonian's he'd hired were waiting for him upstairs. along with Dustil's mother.

He had chosen the mercenaries for their ability to bring in what Tiru Varn had promised was a Jedi. What they delivered was the unconscious body of a woman who looked more like a drowned womp rat than one of the stalwart knights of the Jedi Order.

"This is supposed to be a Jedi," Motta exclaimed in disbelief. "Where is her lightsaber? Varn said she was carrying one."

"We didn't see anything. This wasn't exactly the fight you promised us," the leader replied accusingly.

Motta gestured to the bruise swelling on the woman's cheek. "Really? It looks like one of you had to subdue her. Go back. Find that lightsaber. You'll be paid when I have it."

"And if the boy shows up?"

"He won't. He's coming straight here, I arranged it."

Without another word the group of Iridonian's turned and left the room. Motta looked at the woman again. She didn't bear much resemblance to Dustil and she would have been a very young mother to have birthed him. Motta was never good with telling humans apart though and he didn't take the thought very seriously. And if there was one thing humans did very well Motta had learned, it was breeding more humans.

A protocol droid approached him expectantly. Motta licked his wide lips before speaking.

"Have her treated by the medical droid, I don't care what's wrong with her, I just want her back on her feet," Motta told the thing. "Let's make sure that young Dustil sees his mother is going to get the best care possible if he signs that contract."

Revan

"You're jealous!"

The Republic pilot blushed but aggressively shook his head at the suggestion. Revan sank deeper into her chair and laughed, hugging her knees to her chest. They'd come from the apartment of Yun Genda, the overly flirtatious Sith officer who had invited her to a private party. It ended in with Genda and his other guests passed out on the floor.

Fairly buzzed herself Revan grabbed the mans plated uniform, neatly tucked into a backpack, before Carth escorted her from the apartment. They left Genda to his impending hangover.

The Tarisian ale packed a much stronger punch then she'd been prepared for. With Carth's arm about her waist the pair returned to their own little hideout. She giggled a lot and worried she stumbled more than necessary along the way. The sober Carth Onasi gently helped her along until it became easier for him to sling the pack over his shoulder and carry Revan back.

He'd passed their time at the party sipping from a single ale. On more than one occasion Revan caught him watching her. There had been a quarrel between them before the party. Revan insisted it would look odd to Genda if she showed up with another man. Carth argued it wasn't safe to go alone, there was also the unspoken fact he still didn't trust her. In the end she told Genda he was her brother, overprotective and untrusting of anyone she took an interest in.

Carth was now unpacking the armor to check each piece before he laid it on the workbench. With another giggle she insisted he was jealous. Finally he gave her mischievous grin as looked over his shoulder.

"Maybe a little beautiful," he admitted. "I'm not used to seeing the prettiest girl at a party flirting with someone else."

Despite herself Revan flushed and laughed nervously. She couldn't recall ever dealing with someone as frustrating as Captain Onasi. Though as untrusting and paranoid as he often was he possessed an irresistible charm.

Shaking her head Revan unfolded herself from the chair and stood up. She approached him on alcohol numbed legs. "There you go. What happened to 'gorgeous'?"

"Sorry gorgeous, I won't forget again," he said. Exhausted and drunk Revan felt the room start to spin. She swayed, pressing a slender hand to her brow. Carth was at her side quickly and led her to bed. "You did well tonight. That armor will come in handy to get us into the Undercity."

Revan laid her head on the pillow and smiled up at him.

"Get some sleep Revan, I'd like an early start tomorrow," Carth said pulling a blanket over her. She frowned and twisted to sit up.

"What did you call me?" she asked him.

"Revan. That's right isn't it? Darth Revan?" he replied.

Frowning Revan shook her head. She felt a deep unease. This wasn't right. The wine was hitting her hard now. The room wasn't just spinning, she felt it rolling now like an ocean.

"I'm not that anymore. Please, you never called me Revan until after the Leviathan," she complained.

"Whining Revan? When did you become so weak?" Carth laughed in Malak's voice. Revan choked back a sob and twisted away, squeezing her eyes shut to escape what she realized now was a nightmare. But even in the darkness she could hear Malak's scornful laughter.

Dustil Onasi

The apartment wasn't empty but it wasn't Revan waiting inside. There was a woman, a Jedi he immediately saw who cradling the lightsabers he'd bundled and hidden. Beside her a man, armed and intimidating. Dustil didn't recognize either of them but his father did.

"Bastilla? Canderous?" Carth said coming in behind Dustil.

"Where is Master Revan?" Dustil demanded sharply. The woman, Bastilla, looked at them with sadness. She extended Revan's lightsaber to Carth who took it with a shaking hand.

"She was gone when we arrived," the man explained. He indicated a body that been laid out near the window. It wasn't anyone Dustil recognized. "I think he came back for those lightsabers. Call it a hunch."

"I'm so sorry Carth," Bastilla said softly. His father nodded in an absent kind of way without taking his eyes from the lightsaber.

"Maybe one of the neighbors saw something?" Mission suggested.

"Not likely, the others here try not to notice things, understand?" Dustil said with a frown.

"Have you made any enemies Dustil? Could there have been anyone who knew it was Revan up here?" Jolee asked. The young man considered it but ended up shaking his head.

"I, uh, I've been telling anyone who got curious that she was, my, uh, mother," Dustil said a little uncomfortably. He expected his father to be cross. Carth only looked at him in surprise. A thought occurred to Dustil then. "We should talk to the landlord, Varn. He likes to keep a sharp eye on who comes and goes."

Dustil wasn't surprised Varn was holed up his office. The officious man seemed to appear only when was chasing money or complaining about something. His niece attempted to open the door but told the group she'd been trying to get him out all night without luck. Then Mission slipped up to the door. With her fingers moving quickly she had the lock sliced in a second.

"Good job Mission," Carth complimented her in a hollow voice. Though Mission smiled at the praise, Dustil saw the concern in her wide eyes directed to his father.

"I don't know anything!" Varn screamed when the office door opened. He was huddled behind his desk clutching a nearly empty bottle of brandy to his chest. There was something about it that made Dustil suspicious. He put his fists on Varn's desk and leaned down to glare the landlord. The smell of booze was enough to make the Padawan's eyes water.

"My mother is missing, so what don't you know has you so frightened?" Dustil demanded in a low tone that suggested violence. Varn shrank away from him.

"Speak up and this will be a lot less painful for you," Canderous growled from behind.

"Please, I just - Motta said it would be good for her," Varn wailed.

"What? What does Motta have to do with this?" Dustil asked.

Varn was shaking with fear. "Sibba Motta sent men for her. I was just going to sell him information, but Motta said you would be grateful he could help her."

"You sold Revan to a Hutt?"

It was his father, speaking with a cold rage Dustil had never heard the man use. Then before anyone could react Carth dove across the desk for shrieking landlord. One outstretched hand grabbed the front of Varn's sweat soaked shirt. In the other hand, Revan's lightsaber, which Carth raised overhead where it glinted under the lights. With fury Carth smashed the hilt into Varn's face.

"Dad!" Dustil cried as Carth struck the man again. He moved quickly, as did Canderous, grabbing his father by the arm. Both men tried pulling the enraged pilot away with little luck. Carth strained against them managing to land another blow before Zaalbar took him by the collar and dragged him off the desk.

Varn wasn't screaming now. Instead he was moaning softly, his head rolling disturbingly slack on his shoulders. Blood poured from his broken nose. The Wookie was pushing Carth ahead of him out of the office. Dustil looked at his dads back, still in shock over the display of violence. He caught Jolee and Bastilla exchange a look, its meaning lost on Dustil for the moment.

"Come on," Mission said, slipping a hand through his arm and hurrying Dustil out.