A/N: It has only taken me about two years and fourteen chapters to get off Taris. Sad, huh? I love anyone who is still sticking with this story.
Chapter 14 – A Bargain's a Bargain
With a groan, Amira slowly cracked one eye open. "Damn... I think I drank too much."
A quiet snicker made her head tilt towards the sound. There was minor throbbing in her temples, but movement wasn't as painful as Amira expected. She made out a blue blur sitting on the caffa table. "Mish?"
"Right on." She caught Mission's smirk. "Guess how many glasses of Tarisian ale you had last night?"
Amira rolled away from the Twi'lek and threw an arm over her eyes. "Goodnight."
Mission poked her. When that elicited no response, she shook Amira's shoulder, who responded with some choice curses.
"None."
"What?" Amira raised her arm enough to look dumbly at Mission.
"You didn't have any Tarisian ales or other alcohol last night," she clarified with a snicker.
"Ungh." Her arm descended to hide her eyes again.
"In fact," the teenager continued cheerfully, "what really happened was so much worse. Do you remember?"
"We... we got T3. Went to the Sith base and freed that Duros guy and– the governor!" She lurched up, swayed for a moment, and examined her leg. Her fingers found no cast, nor could she find the break. Amira frowned as she gingerly stretched the muscles in her leg. It ached, but there was no pain. Curling her toes, Amira muttered, "Shit, don't tell me..."
Mission winced in sympathy. "'Fraid so."
"Damn." Amira hung her head.
The teenager awkwardly stretched to pat Amira's shoulder.
"I'll never live this down, will I?"
Mission shook her head, lekku falling over her shoulders. "Anyway, now that you're up, let's go cook lunch." With a strength that belied her size, she pulled an unresponsive Amira to her feet. "Zaalbar and Carth will be hungry when they get back."
"And where is she?" Amira asked as she was led to the kitchenette.
"In the 'fresher. She either needs forever to do her hair or she's sulking about not being let outside again."
Amira smirked. "Or both."
"If I were you, Amira, I would lie low for a while and not rile Bastila up."
Her smirk vanished.
~.~.~
Amira was convinced Zaalbar had a sixth sense that alerted him to when and where food was being prepared, as he and Carth returned the moment the rather bereft sandwiches had been set on the repaired table.
"It is good to see you awake, Amira," he woofed.
"Yeah, sleeping on a couch all day isn't exactly my thing," she replied with a smile.
Zaalbar barked an agreement and carefully sat down on one of the chairs.
Carth also had something to say to her, though he was far quieter than the Wookiee. "Have you spoken to Bastila about your supposed Force sensitivity?"
"Not yet," she muttered with a glower at the refresher door.
The Jedi in question emerged only a second later and they broke apart to take their seats. Bastila shot a suspicious glance at them; Amira wondered how she knew they been speaking about her.
Mission and Zaalbar were the only ones who talked during the meal. Bastila occasionally sent a furtive glance at Amira. When Amira wasn't glaring at the tabletop, she was mulling over Bastila's motive for concealing her Force sensitivity.
This just gets stranger by the day, Amira thought. How am I even Force sensitive? I've never felt anything before. But if I am, Bastila has to know. I suppose she didn't tell me because she didn't want me becoming even more cocky, but this is big.
When Bastila stood, Amira followed suit. "Bastila, I'd like a word." Without waiting for a response, she walked out of the apartment and down the hall to a janitor's closet. She leaned against the door frame and waited for the Jedi to reach her. Ignoring the stare from the shady personal shield dealer, she pushed Bastila in and locked the door behind them. The glow rod above them flickered sporadically, preventing their eyes from adjusting to the darkness.
It was difficult to make out Bastila's expression, so she wasn't able to determine what the other woman was thinking.
"I take it there is something troubling you that you do not wish the others to hear?"
"Why the hell didn't you tell me I'm Force sensitive?" Amira crossed her arms and glared at what she thought was Bastila's face.
An insulted scoff rang through the darkness. "When would I have had the chance? Everything was plunged into chaos when the Spire was destroyed, not to mention that we have not been able to conduct a civil conversation."
Amira opened her mouth to retort, paused, and let her mouth click shut. For a moment her glare intensified before her lips twisted into a sulky grimace. A hand rose to massage her brow and Amira's expression smoothed into neutrality. "I like to think I'm a reasonable person," she muttered, "and so I can't argue with that."
"As much as you would like to," Bastila observed.
Amira's hand retreated and a smirk flitted across her lips. "What can I say? I'm always up for a good fight, and being Force sensitive is no small thing. As you should know, Jedi."
"I've noticed your penchant for aggression," she replied dryly. "In all seriousness, however: yes, you are Force sensitive, and I only recently realised it. I can't overstep my authority and say you can be trained, but when we escape Taris we can talk to the Jedi Masters to see what can be done for you. Is that satisfactory, Amira?"
"For the moment, at least, though I'm still ticked you didn't tell me earlier." She turned to leave.
"One more thing, Amira." Amira stopped and glanced over her shoulder even though she could only see Bastila's features for a few moments when the glow rod shone. "I would advise against trying to use your newfound powers in any application. Without any sort of training it often goes horribly awry."
"Noted."
The door briefly stuck as it swished open. Amira noticed the Twi'lek vendor's furtive glance and smiled brightly. "Sometimes the mood hits you and you just can't wait, you know?"
"What?"
The Twi'lek nodded understandingly.
"Amira!"
The woman in question glanced over at her companion and unsuccessfully fought a laugh at the dark blush staining Bastila's shocked expression. Amira slapped the door panel to the apartment; everyone looked up as they walked in.
Bastila glowered at the laughing woman. "You're-"
"A quick thinker?" Amira interrupted with a snicker. "It would've been suspicious if I didn't say anything."
"No comment was necessary. He would have thought of his own explanation."
"Oh, come on, you know he was thinking it," she grinned. "Besides, you should've seen the look on your face."
"What just happened?" Mission asked, looking between the two women.
"I insinuated we were a lesbian couple to the Twi'lek vendor outside."
Carth coughed to disguise his amusement as Mission let out a peal of laughter. Zaalbar merely shook his head with a sigh.
Abruptly dropping her grin for seriousness, Amira ordered, "Okay, okay, everyone calm down. Now, Ordo will be waiting for those codes. We have a ship to steal and no time like the present."
"What's the plan?" Carth asked.
"A few of us go with Ordo to claim our ship, while the others get to the roof of the apartment. We'll nab the ship and pick the rest of you up before burning sky until we see lines. Everyone happy?"
Carth frowned. "The Sith will notice the Ebon Hawk the moment we pull out of the hangar. We have only a very small window of time to pick everyone up."
"Well, we don't have much choice, do we?" Mission pointed out. "Davik would get suspicious if all of us went to his estate. Whole parties of mercenaries are rare and with his penchant for background checks on all prospective employees it would be too much work to look up all of us. A few people can sneak around easily enough, but it's impossible with a whole battalion."
"It would also be unwise to reveal Taris' most wanted woman to the Exchange, who would waste no time in delivering her to the Sith," Zaalbar agreed.
"I get the picture. There's no other option." Carth briefly held his hands up in defeat.
"What are you worried about?" Amira smirked. "Aren't you supposed to be some crash hot pilot? Top heavy from medals and all that?"
He snorted. "Doesn't mean I enjoy working under the pressure."
"I assume you intend to lead the party going in, Amira?" Bastila asked.
She nodded. "You don't have to worry about me running off with Ordo and deserting you guys because he," she pointed at Carth, "will shoot me if I do."
"That's an overly harsh judgment," Bastila scorned.
"I think of it being an overly blunt judgment," Amira replied dryly. "Besides, it wouldn't be the first time I've been shot at nor the first time Carth has thought about shooting me."
"You got that one right, sister," he replied with a chuckle.
Amira grinned. "See?"
"You seem awfully enthused by the prospect." Carth shot her a wary look, but amusement glimmered in his whiskey brown eyes.
"I'm just happy to be finally getting off this planet." She buckled her vibroblades to her hips and marched towards the door. "Come on, soldier, we have work to do. Zaalbar, you can come with us too. I get the feeling we might need your intimidation. The rest of you collect your belongings and get up to the roof."
The Wookiee grunted his affirmative, grabbing his bowcaster and vibroblade off the workbench as Amira led the way out of the apartment.
~.~.~
Davik Kang's estate had started as a small base in the Lower City and had been continuously expanded and renovated over many years until it intruded on the Upper City. Amira found herself impressed with the craftsmanship of the building; the seams were old met new were impossible to spot. Her boots clacked against the marble tiles as Canderous led them through two separate security checks.
"Does he have these all through the estate?" Amira asked, examining the veins on the polished surface as she walked.
"Yeah." Canderous snorted. "A waste of credits if you ask me, but Davik enjoys flaunting his wealth."
Amira whistled appreciatively. "These must have been imported from halfway across the galaxy. I don't know any marble mining industries near Taris. Also, they make sneaking incredibly difficult – you can hear someone coming from a mile off. Two birds with one stone."
Canderous typed a sequence into a panel set into the door and it snapped open. "We're here."
He led them into an imperious throne room. The ceiling swept away from the floor, rising forty feet into the air; large skylights allowed sunshine to bathe the room in a golden glow, yet Amira noticed the room felt cool. She glanced furtively around for air conditioning vents and found none that were obvious to notice. Seats were scattered around the room, placed so Davik could cater to many people at one time.
In the centre of the room, a solidly-built throne sat on top of a raised dais of black marble. As they approached, she realised the throne had been carved from the marble and flowed seamlessly into the platform. The man lounging on the throne, a scantily-clad Twi'lek kneeling beside him, had to be Davik.
Movement caught Amira's eye and she saw Calo Nord skulking behind the throne. She watched him long enough so there was no mistaking that she'd noticed him before turning her attention to Davik. His springy grey hair was meticulously combed to conceal a growing bald spot on the crown of his head. Purple armour – imposing despite its colour – glittered in the beams of light; Amira wondered if he was still fit enough to wear it in combat or if it hid the signs of old age.
"Well, well," Davik drawled. Cunning brown eyes shone out from the folds of his weathered face, darting over his visitors. His eyes lingered on places where weapons could be concealed before completing a cursory sweep. His gaze became calculating. "What have we here? I'm surprised. You usually work alone, Canderous." While delivered in a casual voice, he spoke with the control of someone who carefully thought over every possible word before opening his mouth.
"Working in a group? You're growing soft, Canderous," Calo sniped from his protected position.
Amira didn't let her eyes leave Davik as Canderous retorted. He's looking for reactions, she realised. Davik makes a comment and observes how others respond to learn about them. And he now knows that Canderous is thoroughly pissed off at Calo's presence, who he feels is a threat to his position.
Davik held up on hand. "Enough. I will not have my top two men killing each other. Canderous has a reason for bringing these strangers to my estate, I'm sure."
The alpha has spoken, Amira thought dryly. He praised both of them and didn't reveal which one is top of the top to placate them both. He's also too full of himself to ask outright what we're doing here. Not that it matters – he must already know.
"I brought someone who is interested in joining the Exchange," Canderous replied. His words held a sharp, almost irritated edge. It clicked in Amira's head: he knew Davik's tactics and was annoyed by them. "Surely you recognise the Mysterious Stranger, who also won the Opener."
"And participated in the firefight afterwards," Davik said, a small smile tugging the corner of his lips. "You could be a great asset to the Exchange, my dear."
Amira tilted her head in acknowledgement. "I'm glad you think so, Mr Kang."
"Your intent is clear." Davik surveyed her for a few more moments before turning his attention to the men behind her. "However, it raises the question of their presence."
"You could call them my partners in crime," Amira answered. His sharp, dark eyes sliced back to her. She gestured with a thumb towards Zaalbar, "He owes me a lifedebt, and is a wicked shot with grenades and he," he gestured at Carth, "owes me a few beers, but is impressive with his blasters."
"I see," Davik said carefully.
"Whether you choose to employ them or not is entirely your choice, Mr Kang, but either way they're with me. I'm the one who fills out their paychecks." Amira raised her chin a fraction of an inch. She didn't want to challenge him, hence leaving the decision entirely to him, but she wasn't going to back down, either.
"I see," he said again, stronger this time. Davik rose from his throne and descended; the Twi'lek stood but remained motionless while Calo strode just behind the crime lord. Davik stopped in front of Amira, staring into her eyes.
Amira met his gaze evenly, her face impassive.
"Might I know the name of my prospective employee?"
"Nala Haysri, sir." Amira had reservations about using a contraction of her real last name – Haythamsri – but could think of nothing better on the spot.
"Then, Ms Haysri," Davik took her hand and planted a light kiss against her knuckles, "I would be delighted to offer a place in the Exchange for you and your companions. I am confident in your ability to deserve every credit you will be paid, and thus should not be split three ways. Now, do not be alarmed, but I always conduct a thorough background check before officially making offers to be hired."
"What reason is there to be alarmed, Mr Kang?" Amira asked, keeping her face blank.
"Good, good," he smiled. "Come, I will personally take you three on a tour of our facilities here."
As Davik turned his back, Amira glanced at Canderous, who nodded once. Feeling Carth's and Zaalbar's eyes on her back, Amira shrugged and followed the crime lord.
The estate was nothing short of opulent with statues and paintings decorating the living areas, a trophy room the size of a frigate that he had plans for expanding, and a private hanger that rivalled a public terminal in size and number of ships docked.
"Of course, with the Sith occupation my off-world activities have been curbed, but I am hoping to negotiate an agreement with the Sith. If unsuccessful, then I already have measures in place to otherwise obtain the codes that allow safe passage around the Sith ships."
Amira, Zaalbar and Carth shared a glance behind Davik's back.
"And here is my pride and joy." Davik tapped an unobtrusive panel and a durasteel blast window cleverly disguised as a part of the wall rose, revealing a small Dynamic-class freighter snug in an enclosed hangar. It was painted in Republic red and white; a few dents and scars marred the paint job.
"The Ebon Hawk," Davik gestured proudly. "She's the fastest ship in the Outer Rim, but I haven't wanted to risk her trying to outrun the Sith. I've installed the latest security measures to protect her. No one gets in or out of that hangar without me knowing about it."
Amira whistled, slowly approaching the window. "That is one nice ship. I wish I had something half as good when I smuggled those weapons through a Mandalorian blockade."
"You used to be a smuggler?"
It was the first direct question Davik had asked. Amira glanced up at him with a cocky grin. "Used to be? I am a smuggler. Getting stuck here on Taris has been a problem, though. I doubt my normal clients will wait for the quarantine to end, and this seems like a better job to take."
Davik nodded in sympathy. "Smuggling can be a tenuous profession without proper business relationships with clients. Perhaps, if your background check comes back clean, I could offer a place on the Hawk's crew for you."
Amira nodded reverently, holding back a smile. "I would love that, Mr Kang."
On the rest of the tour Davik occasionally threw in a seemingly casual question at his prospective employee. Amira - knowing it was a ploy to learn more about her history so he could search her background with more accuracy - responded accordingly with half-truths and full-blown lies.
They ended in the guest wing, where Davik led them to the second-to-last room in the corridor. The door slid open to reveal three freshly made bed.
"And here is where our tour ends. I insist that you stay here while we conduct the background check; I won't accept no for an answer."
"You're too kind, Mr Kang." Amira smiled, but they both knew there was no gratitude in her expression.
Davik titled his head in a half-nod, acknowledging that she knew it wasn't out of kindness that he let them stay in the estate. "The slave quarters are at the end of the hall; feel free to call upon their services. However, I must warn you that if you leave this wing my guards will deal with you most harshly."
The pleasant delivery belied the nature of his words. Amira controlled her expression and nodded once.
"Then I wish you a pleasant stay in my estate." The way he said 'pleasant' made it clear he meant 'obedient'. "Come Calo, let's leave our guests to themselves."
Calo shot a look at Canderous before walking out at Davik's right shoulder.
"Purple armour," Carth muttered after the door closed, blinking as if to remove the disturbing sight from his memory.
Amira coughed; it sounded like 'poofta'. "In all seriousness, though, why the change in behaviour? He dropped the subtlety in the last few minutes."
"Who?" Canderous grunted. "Davik or Nord?"
"Davik." Amira rolled her eyes. "Calo's been acting like an overzealous kath pup all day. I thought he was supposed to be a professional, but there he was fighting for dominance like a young buck."
"Kang starts with the courtesy to lure people into a false sense of security, then establishes dominance. That was to get you used to following orders. But it's not important." Canderous' eyes gleamed. "We're in. Now all we have to do is disable security and the Hawk's ours!"
Zaalbar barked in agreement.
Amira grinned roguishly. "Let's steal ourselves a ship."
~.~.~
Talking to the slaves revealed that the Ebon Hawk's pilot had been imprisoned for stealing spice, but not much else of interest. One slave managed to give her sketchy directions to the torture room, accompanied by a warning of the favoured implements employed by Davik.
Amira rolled her eyes at her first glimpse of the torture room. A large table sat in the dead centre of the room, four circular restraints jutting up at approximately where one's wrists and ankles would rest. The table was spotless, the polished durasteel gleaming in the red glow rods. Small indents had been cut into the slab to allow blood and other fluids to drain into a shallow moat at its base. A tray rested on a nearby bench, clearly visible to someone restrained on the slab. Implements both sharp and blunt rested in a neat line, giving the impression of surgical precision.
Other vertical slabs lined the walls, with similar wrist and ankle restraints. Two idle torture droids floated at the far end of the room; both combusted in a shower of sparks and twisted metal as Canderous pounded one with his heavy repeating blaster and Zaalbar destroyed the other with a few well-placed shots.
Despite the obvious care taken to perfect the image of the torture chamber, there was a force cage active in the corner with an electrical current surging through a man slumped on the floor of his cell.
"That's Hudrow, the pilot," Canderous confirmed.
Amira made it to the control console in a dozen quick strides and took a moment to orient herself to the foreign controls. The current was set on low power to allow for continuous torture. Higher settings required an overseer to deliver short jolts so that the prisoner wasn't killed or permanently damaged, if that wasn't the intent of the capturer. It wasn't in this case, as she assumed Hudrow would be needed later to pilot the Ebon Hawk again. As her pale fingers flew over the console the field deactivated, taking the electrical current with it.
Canderous stepped forward and thrust his repeating blaster in Hudrow's face. The other man squeaked and tried to scoot backwards into the wall behind him. "The security codes to access the Hawk. What are they?"
Carth made a noise of disgust and shot a look at Amira which said 'See? He's a brute.'
"Come now, Canderous," she chided lightly, stepping forward. Zaalbar moved with her, planting himself between the Mandalorian and Amira. "We are civilized creatures, after all." Canderous grunted but lowered his weapon. Her eyes swept over Hudrow. Electrical burns covered most of his skin, varying in degrees of seriousness. His eyes were over bright from building moisture and his muscles spasmed regularly. She knelt down in front of him. "We'll let you go, Hudrow, but could you please give us the security codes for the Ebon Hawk?"
"Of- of course!" he stammered. Amira held out her datapad and he typed in a sequence. "Thank you so much for freeing me! It- it was horrible in there. Take the Hawk and do whatever you want with it – you could even ransom it back to Davik and live like a queen!"
Amira glanced down at the code he had given her and nodded in satisfaction. "Thank you, Hudrow. We'll be causing a racket, so you'll have an opportunity to get out of here."
"Thank you again," he breathed, staring at her reverently.
When they exited the torture room, Canderous shot her a glare.
Amira smiled back at him "Score for good cop bad cop. Not that the poor fool needed it, but it worked. We should try that more often."
Canderous snorted, but a smirk crept over his face as he saw Carth now glaring at Amira. "Maybe, maybe not. Depends if I feel like shoving my blaster in their face or not."
Amira bit back the retort waiting on her tongue. "Has anyone seen a security terminal? Disabling the cameras and setting off the fire alarm sounds inviting."
"We passed one two corridors back," Zaalbar answered. "Left then straight ahead."
"Thanks, big guy," Amira smiled at him. "Let's go."
The terminal was easy to find, and with it Amira wreaked havoc on the estate. She disabled the cameras and first tier of defences around the Ebon Hawk before overloading other consoles, which killed many of the loitering mercenaries. A rumble shook the estate, making the walls tremble, before an alarm activated.
Amira felt three pairs of eyes staring at her and shook her head as she turned to face them. "That wasn't me."
Carth's eyes darkened as his knuckles whitened around his blasters as another vibration made them stumble. "The Sith must be bombing the planet."
Venom-laced instructions on what Malak could do with his bombardment fell from Amira's mouth.
"That's our cue." Canderous hefted his repeating blaster. "I don't intend to go down without a fight. You done, girl?"
"As long as you know where to go, or I'll download the schematics."
"I know where I'm going, runt."
"Then let's go!" Zaalbar roared. "We must get to the others!"
Mercenaries and servants alike scrambled through the corridors, many screaming and panicking. None paid any attention to what were a few more mercenaries running through the estate. Smoke billowed from the mess area as the rumbling continued, adding to the confusion. Canderous didn't once let his attention waver as he set an incredible pace for the others to keep up with. Amira had the most trouble; while she was no small woman, she was the shortest person in the group and did not have the muscle mass of the others. Zaalbar noticed and picked her up without slowing down.
"No, no, that's oka– never mind." Amira sighed and surrendered to her ride. Her weight made no difference to Zaalbar's speed.
When they reached the hangar security room, the security codes disabled the second, third and fourth tiers of security protecting the freighter.
Amira bit back a sigh of relief as the door to the hangar opened – they were in no way out of trouble yet, but they were close. "We're almost th-"
Davik Kang and Calo Nord looked up at the noise.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" Davik asked, mirroring their first conversation. "Thieves to steal my ship."
"You bet," Amira called back, sidling towards the nearest cover.
"You've been cheating me for too long, Kang!" Canderous shouted, punctuated by Sith lasers impacting nearby.
Davik glanced out the hangar bay. "Damn, those Sith are going to bring the hangar down aroun–" He fell backwards, his face nothing more than blackened char.
Carth shook his head. "I don't know whether Ordo was wrong to shoot during conversation or it Davik was stupid to keep talking."
Canderous turned his blaster to Calo. "You're next, runt."
"I've been waiting for a long time to kill you," Calo said evenly, not sparing a glance at his dead employer.
Canderous shot again, accompanied by a cacophony from Carth's and Zaalbar's weapons. An energy shield flared to life around Calo, taking the brunt of the damage before dying. Calo grunted as the next shots drove him to his knees. Amira raised an eyebrow as she watched form her protected position, all but useless on the fight. On any other unarmoured person, those should have been killing shots. She examined his clothing and realised he either had underarmour or his clothes had energy dulling fibers woven into them.
Calo held up a thermal detonator for them to see. "You might have me outnumbered and outgunned, but if I'm going I'm taking you with–"
The building shook as a direct hit loosened a chunk of the hangar ceiling. Calo ran. The rubble crushed him.
"Time to go!" Carth shouted. "Everyone in the Hawk, now!"
Amira might have disliked military authority, but it was an order she obeyed. They ran up the boarding ramp, Amira shadowing Carth as they ran to the cockpit. He slammed into the pilot's seat and the Ebon Hawk lifted off in seconds as his hands flew over the controls. Amira landed in the co-pilot's chair and punched in the access codes to disable the Sith warships' autofire, then she sprang up and ran back to the boarding ramp.
A minute later she felt the Hawk slow and stop altogether as the ramp lowered. Bastila and Mission stood at a broken window on the penthouse level of the building.
"This isn't the roof!" Amira shouted as Bastila threw their gear onto the ship with the Force; Zaalbar managed to catch every bag in a feat of dexterity.
"It's too dangerous up there!" Mission shouted back before throwing herself up. Amira lunged for the teenager and pulled her to safety. She heard a yelp of protest and jerked her head around to see a red-faced Bastila land squarely in Canderous' arms. Amira grinned for a moment, then carefully put Mission down.
Canderous growled at Mission to get to the main hold. Bastila had already vanished but her voice was clear as it rang thruogh the corridors
"Carth, what are you waiting for? Go already!"
"Ori'buyce, kih'kovid," Canderous muttered, and Amira bit her tongue to fight back a snigger. All helmet, no head – a fitting description of Bastila, she thought as she followed the Jedi at a slower pace.
It was out of her hands now; all Amira could do was ignore the tension curling in her chest and the instinct that screamed at her to do something and instead pray to the Force. Okay, so I'm apparently Force sensitive, she thought. Help me now and get us through this alive! Hell, if you do I'll even become a Jedi out of gratitude!
As she reached the cockpit, she saw the glittering black emptiness of space and a small sigh escaped her. She hadn't realised how much she had missed space until she was reunited with it. A large Sith warship – Amira had never seen that class before – loomed in front of the viewport and the Hawk darted below it at a speed not considered safe.
Proximity alarms began blaring; Bastila laboured over the co-pilot's console to determine the problem.
"Sith fighters!" she reported.
Amira ran to the cockpit door and shouted, "Canderous, turrets!"
Canderous' sneer echoed not through the corridors, but through the Hawk's intercom. "Already there, girl." Almost immediately one of the Sith fighters exploded into a ball of fire.
As Amira was leaning over to press the 'talk' button so she could make a smartassed reply, she noticed how pale Bastila was. The Jedi was pressing buttons frantically, sweat glistening on her alabaster brow. "Princess, out," she ordered. "I'll take over."
Bastila made no reply.
"Get up, go, scat! Go lie down or something before you faint," Amira snapped, grabbing Bastila's wrists and forcibly removing her from the chair. The Jedi spluttered and argued to no avail. Amira didn't let go until she had led Bastila to the doorway, so she could lean on a wall, then Amira fell into into the co-pilot's seat as the Hawk lurched.
Carth didn't look up at his new co-pilot as he asked, "Amira, do you know how-"
"I know enough." Amira focused on the consoles that were lighting up and making different noises. Canderous whooped through the intercom as Amira watched the last Sith fighter explode brilliantly. A quick check of the proximity radar told her there was nothing in the way of a hyperspace jump
"Carth, we're clear!"
The Hawk gave a small lurch and the stars turned into streaks.