Valia had been dozing fitfully in the copilot's seat of the Ebon Hawk when she was awoken by the shriek of an old woman.
Sighing, Valia got up and made her way to the main hold.
Atton was resting against the holo-projector, face ashen.
"You got any liquor?" he asked, looking like he was going to be sick.
"No Atton. I don't have any liquor."
"Eh, might be better if I didn't have any," he replied, smoothing his hair back.
"What happened?" Bastila asked, coming out of the hyperdrive section.
"I uh, I was going to the refresher to, you know, handle business. Kreia was in there taking a shower. The door wasn't locked."
At this, Bastila's face twisted in a mixture of surprise and disgust.
"Atton, you have my sympathies," she replied.
"Frak that was a foul thing to witness. All them wrinkles...I'm gonna be sick."
Valia was trying to keep from smiling. "Next time, Atton, you should knock."
"I couldn't hear anything! You know how silent a sonic shower is!"
"I agree, Exile," Kreia said, walking out-thankfully fully clothed. "Knock, next time, fool."
"Maybe you should have the curtain on next time, you vicious old hag!" Atton replied.
Bao-Dur, unfortunately, chose to walk in at this very moment to add his two credits to the matter. He was eating some sort of candy bar.
"I don't know, General-I think Kreia has a pretty nice wiggle to her," he blurted out.
Everyone stopped and stared at him. Even Kreia stared at him in surprise.
Bao-Dur stared at everyone and shrugged. "What? What did I say?"
"Do you have any idea how wrong it was to utter that statement?" Bastila asked, eyeing him.
"Yeah. What are you gonna do, shoot me? C'mon, Kreia, shake it. Show 'em what you're working with! Here, I'll start dancing along with you," he replied, going into an awkward jig where he half-heartedly shuffled his feet and arms.
"I will be in my chambers, meditating," Kreia replied, unsure of how to respond to the situation.
"You are several kinds of frakked up, Zabrak," Atton muttered, looking at Bao-Dur like the Zabrak had just chewed on a whole kilo of spice.
"Eight kinds," Bao-Dur corrected. "Can we get to the next part already?"
Four hours later.
"Here we are. Korriban. Home of the Sith," Atton announced as he went into orbit above the infamous desert planet. "Torture capital of the galaxy throughout the Jedi Civil War."
"Not anymore," Bastila said, sitting in the co-pilot's chair. "Remember that kid, Dustil? He was a double agent working for the Jal-Shey five years ago. He brought in a hoard of his buddies and they burned the Sith Academy here to the ground. It was a massacre. His men gunned down dozens that day,"
"Dustil always did hate the Sith with a passion. It might have something to do with them bombarding his planet and killing his mother," Mical added, staring at the planet as he stood over Bastila's seat. "You said a Jedi master was here, Valia?"
"Yes. Vash. She was one of the masters who formally exiled me. She is one of the people I have to find. Might be able to piece a bit more together about what is going on with her help," Valia rasped as she stood next to Atton.
"You certainly won't find her at the academy. Why would a Jedi even come here? It's a death sentence for Jedi. Always has been," Mical noted out loud.
"Vash was an investigator. She might have been trying to ascertain which faction of Sith she is dealing with. But if she can't get into the academy, where else could she go?" Valia wondered out loud.
"Hmm..." Mical mumbled rubbing his chin. And then it dawned on him. "Oh no. I think I figured out where she is. She went to my place."
"Your place? Mical, is there something I missed here?" Bastila asked, turning to stare at him.
"A great deal, unfortunately. But it does not matter. Look, set the Hawk for these coordinates, then get out of the seat and let me pilot. We'll be shot down by the security systems otherwise," Mical ordered bluntly.
Both Atton and Bastila sighed and got out of the seats while Mical sat down.
Valia took the seat next to him. "Where we going, Kid?"
"Home sweet home," Mical replied. "My father's castle to be specific."
"How dangerous is the place?"
"With me there, you should be perfectly fine. But then again, You're here too, so I won't count on thing's staying fine for too long," he answered curtly as he piloted through the atmosphere, heading to a barren canyon of rock and sand. Carefully maneuvering into the canyon, he piloted slowly to what appeared to be a smooth rock face.
Mical punched in something on the transmission pad. The smooth rock face split open to reveal a darkened hanger. He quickly piloted the Hawk onto the dusty pad, which clearly hadn't seen use in some time.
He then sat back and breathed deeply. Then clapped his hands.
"Okay, ground rules. This place is crawling with Sith artifacts. I know the layout of this place. Don't touch anything unless I say it is safe, don't wander off. The place is lined with booby traps. We'll have to make our way to security to turn all the cameras back on before we can seriously look for Vash. For her sake I hope she hasn't gotten herself impaled or something," Mical said to Valia.
"Got ya," Valia replied. She got up and went back to the main hold.
"Everyone, move out!"
The plan was relatively simple. One team proceeded forward, while the other stayed by to guard the hanger. Valia, the Rookie, Atton, and Mical were the team preceding deeper into the facility, while Bastila, Visas, Bao-Dur, and Kreia stayed behind.
"We'll check back with you guys every fifteen minutes or so. If you come under attack, retreat to the ship and clear out of here. We can handle ourselves," Valia ordered. "We'll call you for retrival when the danger has passed. And Bastila, you had BETTER show up with the damn ship this time, or I will torment you from Jigoku should I be cut down," Valia warned the ex-Jedi.
"I'll show, don't worry," Bastila replied glumly, fidgeting.
"Good, if that's all, then we'll be on our way." Valia turned with Mical leading point as they reached an exit to the hanger. Mical used the Force to hit the light switch and the entire hanger lit up, revealing a series of elaborately carved statues of robed figures not entirely unlike the ones they had spotted passing over the Valley of the Dark Lords lining the hanger, which seemed to be lined with vertical strips of gold, the docking pad having the color and qualities of smooth pearl.
"This must have set your daddy back," Atton remarked, whistling.
"You kidding, this was a drop in the bucket. He was on the Galactic Fortune 800 list more than three times," Mical replied.
"Really? You never told me that," Valia remarked as she proceeded into what appeared to be an entrance hall, that was just as lavishly decorated as the hanger. Paintings of family members lined the lavish room, with one picture that bore a striking resemblance to Mical himself save for a brown goatee hanging prominently at the end, which had a grand spiral staircase.
"Let's see. Dining area is on the second floor. Sorcery room should be at the end, and interrogation should be just beyond that, which makes Security just beyond the guest rooms..." Mical said absently to himself. "Follow me."
As they passed under the largest portrait, Atton got curious.
"So who's this guy?" he asked, pointing to the large one with the goatee-Mical.
"Oh...that would be none other than Tulak Hord himself, greatest of the Sith lightsaber duelists," Mical answered.
"You mean nobody has surpassed him?" Valia asked.
"Not to my knowledge. But then again, modern estimations of lightsaber skill would supposedly be laughable compared to that of the ancient Sith. If you ask me, that's just grandstanding on their part. Propaganda. Though by all accounts he WAS very good at sword fighting. But his skill isn't why he was so famous-or rather, infamous-to the Sith. Truth is he is much better known for his vices than his skill."
"What were his vices?" Atton asked, a grin starting to form.
Mical awkwardly scratched his head. "He had an unfortunate addiction to-everything. Drugs, gambling, stealing, petty theft, casual assault, racketeering, betting on slow animals at races, cursing loudly and frequently, public indecency, public intoxication, lewd conduct with aliens he could mate with without being killed, lewd conduct with aliens he could NOT mate with without being killed, exposing himself to strangers, exposing himself to animals, exposing himself to the Dark Lord Ajunta Pall, felony assault, felony smuggling, and addiction to obtaining prostitution at all hours of the day. He eventually caught a disease from this and died, cursing everybody as loud as he could and urinating on his doctor as he passed away, who he claims to have hated. He had over a hundred and seventeen children at the time of his death. But he supposedly ran a very tight ship when HE was the Dark Lord, despite these shortcomings he performed regularly."
Atton had no response to this. He was doing all he could not to start laughing. Valia also had a small smile on her face too. Just thinking that someone who looked like Mical would be capable of all that was just plain amusing. Valia guessed that every family had a black sheep somewhere. Hell, she herself was an example.
"But I have spoken enough on that man I think. Come, we should head for security," Mical finished.
As they proceeded through the elaborate interior, Mical would stop occasionally and open a hidden panel, disabling the security up ahead.
"What did your father do with all his wealth, Mical?" Valia asked.
"A lot of the time it went into funding the Sith Philosophers operations. He was one of their largest backers, if not THE largest. His death hurt them badly, I think, and since at I already had problems of my own with my parents dead, I wasn't ready or willing to carry on the family business. I threw in with the Jedi. I gotta say, though-for a time, I was tempted to seek out the other Philosophers to finish my Sith training. Mind you though, I was ten at the time. A stupid kid."
"How much were you taught?" the Rookie asked, concern darkening her features.
"I'm not proud to say this, but...a fair amount," Mical answered. He stopped and effortlessly pried open another panel in the guest rooms quarter and flicked a switch.
"Good thing I remembered that one. If I hadn't deactivated it, these two giant blades would have swooped from the ceiling and vivisected us."
"Giant blades from the ceiling? Seems a little...impractical," Atton noted skeptically.
"Mother had a lot of free time on her hands when she was designing the interior of this place and overseeing the construction of the traps. Truth is, Father himself would often question her taste in booby traps, as a good deal of them seemed to be rip-offs of old action holos she used to watch."
"Seriously?" Atton asked. "How the hell did your family navigate this place?
"We had good memories. Father considered it a part of my training to keep me on my toes...I'm just kidding, most of the time they were shut off except in cases of home invasion," Mical laughed quickly, though it was a notably empty laugh.
The four continued on their trek.
"How considerate of the exile to leave us to guard duty," Kreia all but grumbled.
"Once again, here is Kreia, doing her absolute best to make an annoying task even more annoying," Bastila said tersely.
"I take it this is common with her?" Visas asked quietly.
Bastila stared at Visas with a peeved gaze. "Kreia is the kind of person who sucks the life out of a whole room with just one ill-timed comment. In fact I heard that one time she got a Dark Jedi to kill himself doing just that."
"You are being unfair to me, padawan," Kreia spoke, making that last word sound like the crack from a whip. "Besides, that Dark Jedi was already depressed from his consumption of alcohol."
"What are the chances the Jedi we are trying to track even discovered this place?" Visas asked, trying to keep focus on their task.
Bastila folded her arms. "This is Vash we are talking about. She was always capable of discovering even the most hidden away places."
"And given that this is a Sith hideout she probably got herself into a booby trap of some kind. We'll be lucky if she isn't dead," Kreia snorted.
"This conversation's entertaining and all, but I think I heard something," Bao-Dur said in that always disturbing soft voice of his. He peered behind the Ebon Hawk and spotted a small combat shuttle approaching the open hanger bay.
"You know those times where people break out into a panic? I think this is one of those. A scene transition might also be in order," Bao-Dur said with a lopsided grin.
Valia and her team had finally made it to the main security room. It was filled with rows of screens and terminals, all darkened, and covered by a fine sheet of dust.
Mical immediately went over and wiped the dust off the main terminal before powering it up.
The screens flickered to life. Lines of code ran through them before a message popped up on all the screens: ENTER COMMAND.
Mical sighed and began punching commands into the console furiously.
"This tech's a few decades out of date. Most of it was made back when we still used hyperspace beacons and Exar Kun was still sucking wind as a Jedi," Mical mentioned offhandedly as he typed. The screens finally flickered to life with security feeds from all over the complex.
"Let's see if we can't find Vash on this damn thing. Hope she's not in the pleasure room..." Mical grumbled.
"Pleasure room?" Valia asked with a raised brow.
"My mom and dad had some...exotic ideas of fun. Let's just leave it at that," Mical responded.
Finally he spotted the image he had been looking for. They all spotted it and their eyes went wide.
"Oh dear," Mical said worriedly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "She's in the combat simulator. We need to get her out of there or she's going to die."
Valia's com-link buzzed.
"Valia! It's Bastila! The Sith are here! We're taking heavy fire!"
"Get out of there!" Valia ordered.
"The way out is blocked!"
"Dammit! Atton, come with me! Rookie and Mical, you guys secure Vash!" Valia ordered.
Mical nodded. "I'll bring up the security turrets, program you as friendlies."
Valia nodded and broke into a run with Atton.
After a few minutes of typing he nodded to the Rookie. "Miss, if you will accompany me, we have a Jedi Master to bail out."
As they ran through the decorated and lavish halls of Mical's old home, the Rookie had a question.
"Mical, how does the combat simulator work?"
"Well, it's a combination of holograms and Force-based technology. Very dangerous if the safety protocols are removed. They have the same thing in the Coruscant Temple, but their simulations have a spotty record on faithful representation of famous combatants. Not so when it comes to this one."
"Who have you programmed in?" She asked between spurts of breath.
Mical stared at her. "Who can you name?"
"It's that extensive?"
"Dad had Jedi and Sith programmed into this thing that both sides are probably unfamiliar with,' he answered. They stopped at the entrance to the simulation chamber.
"Okay, Look. Vash probably wandered in here by accident. Almost everything in this place can double as a security measure. My Mother herself often stuck her enemies in this thing. Good news is that the sim is only programmed for one on one battles. This tech was very expensive even back then. Set even my dad back a little. Bad news is that whichever sim is in there, there is a chance it's a sim of an extremely skilled combatant in either the Force or with the lightsaber. So when we go in there, be ready for anything. I'm gonna try and disable the thing while you distract the simulation and get Vash out. Whatever you do, Miss, DO NOT ATTEMPT TO FIGHT. The sim could tear you apart, especially since it seems the safety protocols have been disengaged. Do you understand?"
The Rookie nodded.
"Good. Ready?"
"Yes."
Mical hit the buttons on the side panel. The turbo-door slid open.
Vash has her back against the wall, trading a furious set of parries and thrusts with a simulation of a dark-skinned human male with puffy, curly black hair and a respectable goatee in jedi robes, obviously of the dantooine cut. His dark green lightsaber was inverted in his hand, his swipes fast and liquid in motion. Vash's lightly graying hair was matted to her scalp, and her normally ivory cheeks were flush from exhaustion as she defended herself. The Rookie spotted a number of cuts and scrapes through the tears in her robes. Simulation indeed.
The Rookie took her collapsed staff and tossed it at the simulation. It passed right through, hitting the beige-colored wall behind it.
The Simulation turned to the Rookie, and even though it was essentially a computer program, the Rookie couldn't help but take the look in the program's eyes to be nothing less that total malice.
The Simulation charged into a leaping mid-air corkscrew, and the Rookie frantically rolled out of the way of his lightsaber. The Simulation spun his lightsaber in front of him, forcing the Rookie to back away.
"Jedi!" she yelled to Vash. "Now would be a good time to run!"
Vash didn't run, however. She charged while the simulation was distracted and plunged her blade into the back of the sim. It vanished instantly.
"Contact," a computerized female voice with a Coruscanti accent announced. "One point to guest. Half point to interloper for assistance. Congratulations! The Jolee Bindo Simulation is one of this programs most difficult. Please opt for new combatant, or face death by electrification of chamber. Have a nice day."
"I opt for a new...combatant," Vash said robotically, wearily raising her lightsaber.
The Rookie looked to the exit. It was sealed. And Mical was still fiddling with something by a panel near the exit.
"Damn!" he spat. "Brace yourselves! Rookie, remember what I said about not attempting to fight? Well, now it has been changed to 'fight or die'. Can you handle that?"
The Rookie nodded, quickly retrieving her staff and activating it.
"Selecting new combatant..." the voice announced. "Selecting...Darth Sangraal."
Vash's eyes widened. The Rookie saw Mical began working even more furiously than he had. "Come on!" he hissed to himself.
A gathering of bright particles formed at the center of the chamber. It coalesced into the form of a particularly luscious barefoot woman with caramel skin and an hourglass figure. Her choice of clothes was teasingly sparse, being only a simple white loincloth and a white top clinging to her bosom, showing off a respectable amount of muscle. A gold headdress embellished with a snake head was fixed to her scalp. Long, smooth dark hair flowed down past the small of her back. The lips were painted black. Her hands ended in fingernails that had been sharpened to a point and painted a steel color.
The Simulated woman opened her eyes, which were a strange crimson color. She delicately unclipped a lightsaber from her loin cloth. It was a golden hilt, not entirely dissimilar from Mical, save that there was an added horizontal cross guard at the top.
"You who are about to die-I salute you," the Simulation of Sangraal spoke, her accent light and yet making the ear focus intently whenever a word issued forth from it.
A blade of midnight black with a white aura surrounding it hissed out of her hilt. And then Darth Sangraal was charging so fast towards them that Vash and the Rookie barely had time to leap out of the way from a strike that would have killed both of them at the same time.
Darth Sangraal whipped her blade towards Vash, who barely blocked it. This was a simulation of a genuine professional. Each strike was never anything less than a killing blow. While Vash blocked the fatal strike, Sangraal swung her right foot with inhuman speed towards Vash's neck, clearly meaning to break it. Vash peddled backward and guarded.
The Rookie made a swipe for Sangraal's backside. Sangraal back flipped out of the strike and over the Rookie's head.
Only Valia's training saved the Rookie as she instinctively dodged the blade that would have burned her spine in half.
Vash went on the offensive, bounding across the room and swiping for Sangraal's long, agile legs. But Sangraal utilized the free space the chamber afforded and seemed to simply melt of the way of the strike. A pondering in the back of the frightened Rookie's head mused that the way Sangraal fought looked like the Ataru fighting style she had seen in a few holo-documentaries on the Jedi with what seemed to be dance moves incorporated into it. Belly Dancing, to be specific.
The Rookie regrouped with Vash, Making sure to block the way between them and Mical, still desperately trying to find the right bypass that would deactivate the system.
Sangraal pulled back, guarding with her blade. She held out her right arm.
"I've been looking forward to this," the Simulation said, running her sharp pinky nail against the wrist.
The blood that spilled was an unnatural bright red...and it moved, twisting and taking shape into something monstrous.
It looked like a kath hound that had been skinned alive. Powerful sinews and arteries pumping through it were exposed to open air. Its eyes possessed a putrid phosphorescent yellow glow.
"Flesh Demon!" Vash yelled backing away from the snarling...thing.
The Rookie began to wonder how good a simulation this actually was. The snarling abomination growled like the twisting of a tree branch crossed with the hiss of a snake, advancing patiently, ever alert for the chance to pounce.
"Yet another joins the dead. Do not fear. The afterlife shall hold little pain for you. I've been there, and I turned out just fine," the simulation said gently, with a very small amount of mirth.
The Flesh Demon leaped for the Rookie, who reacted with a desperate thrust of her staff into the abomination's maw.
The creature choked, and the Rookie drove it in deeper, slamming the monster to the ground and yanking the staff to the side, breaking the creature's neck.
She barely got a chance to sigh in relief, before her combat senses made her back flip away from the buzz saw that Sangraal's lightsaber had become when she had flung it.
Vash saw an opportunity and took it, making a leaping strike that connected square on Sangraal's head. It split open like a melon, part's of it catching fire as the blade burned through it.
But, to Vash's surprise (A more than likely morale-crushing horror), the split halves of Sangraal's head formed a smile.
"Tisk tisk Jedi. You disappoint me. Surely you can do better. But you're a bit new to this, so I'll be polite and forgive it," Sangraal said.
The insides of Sangraal's split open head began to snarl and grow teeth. Vash backed away as a number of tendrils that were also covered in teeth sprouted from the inside, the effect not entirely unlike that of some sort of a fly-trap. Her muscular abdomen split open and a new pair of skinless arms, each sporting clawed fingernails, grasped eagerly for Vash and the Rookie.
"MICAL!" the Rookie screamed "Whatever you're gonna do, do it quick!"
"I'm trying!" Mical hissed.
"There's no trying! Just DO IT!" she shouted.
"It'll be less horrific if you just come a little closer," the Simulation spoke. "It's not like I bite or anything. Where would you get that idea?"
The simulation summoned its lightsaber and leapt for them.
The Rookie reacted, slamming the thing with the hardest Force push she could muster. The creature was blown back, realistically impacting against the wall behind it.
The once beautiful monster writhed on the floor for a few moments before dissolving into what seemed to be a pool of blood and reconstituting its figure.
When it reformed, it was wearing the same clothes, but not the same body.
The Rookie blinked for a moment in surprise as Darth Sangraal took the Rookie's form. But it wasn't an exact reproduction. The eyes were still red, and her face had a look of cold calculation that the Rookie never in a million years would have imagined as hers. Somehow, this made her new form even more hideous to the Rookie than her previous one had.
"I LIKE your body. I'll think I'll keep it," Sangraal purred in that seductive voice of hers, readying her lightsaber once more. "Nothing personal, of course."
Just as the Rookie braced herself for Sangraal's overhead chop, Mical let out a whoop of excitement.
The Simulation of Darth Sangraal vanished, exploding in a burst of bright particles. The Rookie collapsed in relief. The chamber's exit unsealed. Vash leaned against the wall of the chamber.
"Who...THE HELL...was that?" the Rookie breathed.
"Darth Sangraal. Were you not paying attention?" Mical asked, wiping the sweat of panic from his forehead. "She was the Sith Philosopher's equivalent of Dimmak. She was supposedly some resurrected ancient Sith Lord from one of the Great Schisms," he went on. "She was briefly Darth Kashtu's trump card against the Jedi Order. Sangraal also took over operations when Kashtu was temporarily incapacitated. She personally led assaults on the major Jedi temples. She captured holocrons, databases, and relics. Over three hundred and fifty Jedi died trying to stop her. She converted over four hundred more to her side. She turned senators, admirals, spies. Many feared she would be the death of the Order, as she was just as dedicated to Kashtu's ideals as any of her followers."
"So what happened?" the Rookie asked.
"Well, as with most Sith Lords, the pattern of their lives played out in true fashion: We got lucky," Vash spoke. "It turns out, contrary to popular Jedi belief, that when pitted against an unstoppable force, you don't need an equally immovable object. You just need an equally unstoppable force. Basic physics. A freak of nature was killing us, so we needed our own freak of nature. Dimmak fit the bill nicely. I don't exactly know the details of everything, but their battle destroyed a swath of the cityscape surrounding the temple. To be fair, Sangraal had him on the ropes for most of it. But Dimmak...he's almost worse than Valia Renn in some respects. He doesn't register pain or fear. He's walking chaos. And it was only his first outing. Just when Sangraal thought she had him, she made the mistake of getting to close. That portal in his chest sucked her in and she hasn't been seen since. I hear a great deal of older Jedi still have nightmares of her," she finished.
"She could actually do everything she demonstrated?" the Rookie asked.
"Ancient Force ability. It's called Tissue Control. She could control every molecule, every blood cell. Her Flesh Demons, whenever they consumed a foe, would take on a mockery of their victim's form and continue the fight."
"What if it had assigned us Dimmak?" the Rookie asked, now intensely curious.
"You guys would have been dead in seconds," Mical asserted. "Come. Let's get out of here."
"Wait...I owe you for saving my life. What are your names?" Vash asked.
"Mical is my name and Sith Lords are my specialty," Mical bowed.
Vash looked at the Rookie. "You look familiar..."
"I get that a lot," the Rookie replied. "There will be time enough for introductions later. We have to regroup with our leader. This way, please," the Rookie said, walking out of the chamber.
Vash again nodded and followed.
Valia finished breaking the neck of the final Sith Assassin. The bodies of Ebon Hawk crews would-be killers lay strewn about in heaps, broken and twisted, some burnt by lightning, others, cut by lightsabers, and still more killed by blaster fire and grenades.
"Man, that scene transition totally resolved problems on our end," Bao-Dur said in his usual deadly-soft tone.
"What are you talking about?" Visas asked.
Bao-Dur whistled. "Oh, nothing..."
"That won't be the last of them. Atton, Bastila, you get into the Hawk and pull out of here now. The rest of us will fall back and form a defensive perimeter in the security section," Valia ordered. "We'll call when we've repelled the second assault they'll be sending."
"How do you know there will be a second attack?" Visas asked.
"Because, Seer, if there is anything the Exile knows at first glance, it is cannon fodder," Kreia explained in a chiding tone.
"Well said, witch," Valia nodded, again disturbed by how on the money the old woman was. "Be sure to hide the ship some where they won't be able to scan for you."
"I spotted some canyons not too far off that'll screw with most ship sensors pretty good. I'll set it down there," Atton replied. With that, he and Bastila walked up the ramp. It hissed shut and the Hawk lifted off a few moments later.
"Everyone, fall back!" Valia barked. Everyone followed her back to the entrance of the facility, running right into Vash, Mical, and the Rookie in the process.
Vash froze and brought her lightsaber to guard the instant she spotted Valia, backing away quickly.
"Whoa, easy there, Vash. I'm not your enemy," Valia rasped, holding her hands up. "See? I'm unarmed."
"C'mon, Valia, we both know you don't need a lightsaber or even the Force to kill me. So I think I'm just gonna stay defensive until you explain why you're here."
"Atris sent me."
"Liar! Atris is dead! Just like every other Jedi who went to the Katarr conclave."
"I also found Vrook. He's alive also. He didn't believe me either. Look, Master Vash, I suspect you've been up to your ears in poodoo trying to survive and all, but I need you to trust me. I risked my life and the lives of my comrades coming here, and we just finished mopping up a contingent of assassins that have plagued the Order for a while now. You always knew me to be pragmatic, so can you honestly believe I would risk so much to find you, just so I could kill you when I did. Give me a little more credit than that."
"You have risked more for less," Vash shot back.
"Okay, let me put it the old fashioned way: If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead. And you're outnumbered. Now can we talk?"
Vash narrowed her eyes as she weighed her options. Finally after a moment, she shut off her lightsaber.
"Alright. But I'm watching you."
"Fine by me," Valia replied, sighing in relief. "I say we have less than five minutes before the Sith attack again. So let's retreat and figure out how to defend this place."
"Defend? SCREW DEFENDING IT!" Vash yelled. "I've been stuck in this place for five frakking hours. Let's blow it up! Place is saturated with the Dark Side anyway!"
"We cannot allow the Sith to control this place. Who knows what they would find here? Besides, if we control it, any information it has could help us determine whatever faction of Sith it is we are dealing with. Do you want to destroy it now?" Valia asked.
"Err...fine. We will do what we must," Vash muttered.
As the group retreated to the security center, they could already hear more combat shuttles landing behind them.