Disclaimer: No, even the awesomeness that is the krayt dragon is not mine. 'Tis the price of writing fanfiction, darlings.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
As the Chieftain of the Sand People had promised, Aithne and the others didn't have to go too far east to find the cave of the krayt dragon. It was an enormous cave going into the side of a monstrous dune a ways behind a bantha herd. This was not surprising. What was surprising were the speeders parked out front.
"Looks like we've got company," she said to the others. As they neared the cave, Aithne could just barely make out the outline of an enormous beast inside the cave. The two persons in front were easier to distinguish. Komad Fortuna was the Twi'lek nearer Aithne, the most famed hunter in Anchorhead, according to the sources down at the lodge. His friend was unknown to her.
The man seemed to say something to Komad, but Aithne was not near enough to hear what. Then, to her horror, he stood up from his position leaning on the speeder,removed a giant of a gun from a shoulder holster and strode into the dragon's lair.
The cave was too dim for Aithne to make out exactly what happened to the poor hunter. But she could easily hear the horrified scream as he met his end.
Aithne was now near enough for Komad to see her. She hailed him and walked over. He shuddered. /I did warn him,/ he said regretfully in Huttese. /You are Aithne Morrigan, correct? You joined the lodge the other day. I am Komad Fortuna./
/I know who you are,/ Aithne replied. /Everyone knows who you are. But what brings you here?/
Komad proceeded to tell Aithne that this particular krayt dragon had not been in the vicinity long. As it was, it was a great deal to near to Anchorhead. He had come to dispatch it. He'd set mines around the beast's lair, but in order to kill it, he needed to get it to emerge. He had a plan for that, too, but he didn't have the resources to carry it out.
/What is this plan?/ Aithne asked him politely. /Perhaps I could help. I'm very interested in getting inside that cave, and the prospects of doing so now are…not good./
Komad looked at the cave with misgiving. /No./ He explained that krayt dragons were passionately fond of bantha meat, and if he could somehow lure one of the nearby bantha to the location, he would bet that the creature they hunted would emerge. However, in order to do this, he needed bantha fodder, of which he had none.
/I do,/ Mission spoke up unexpectedly. /I lifted some from the Sand People Enclave to feed to the gizka,/ she explained to Aithne in flawless Huttese. Aithne shook her head. Of course Mission would know Huttese. Next to Basic, it was the most common language in the galaxy. She'd have to know Huttese to survive in the Tarisian Undercity.
Mission fished some of the fodder out of her pack. Komad explained that the tribe of Sand People that owned the herd of bantha would resent her interference, a different and fiercer tribe than Aithne had dealt with just earlier that day.
/That's no problem,/ Aithne said, smiling. /I have a friend that will be delighted with the target practice./
"Isn't that right, Aytchkay?" she asked him.
"Answer: Oh goody, master!" said HK-47. "Shall I shoot the Sand People meatbags?"
Aithne nodded. "Cover Mission," she instructed. "Pick off the Sand People if they try to attack her."
Aytchkay nodded, focusing, as Mission walked out to a bantha. The war-cries were loud and immediate as Mission approached the great, gentle grazer. Their cries of surprise as HK-47 sniped them off quickly and efficiently before they got within fifty yards of the bantha and the Twi'lek were equally loud.
"Superbly done," Aithne complimented her droid.
"Answer: But of course, master. I am a professional, you know."
Mission led the bantha up to the cave, and gave it the fodder. They had not long to wait before the dragon emerged, drawn by the scent of the bantha.
It poked its white, scaly nose out into the dying sunlight, and its nostrils flared. Yellowed, cracked teeth hung down from its snout, as long as Aithne's forearm. It stretched one wickedly clawed stubby leg out of its lair, then another. And then the first mine went off.
The krayt dragon roared in pain, tossing its giant horned head. Its yellow eyes looked left and right for the perpetrator of this outrage. It spied the small group of hunters with a wily roll of its left eye. It recognized the puny bipeds. These that smelled of old rocks and sweat and fear. The great beast recognized the metal barrels pointed at it, shaking now as the small blue one quaked before his might. They had caused it pain before, those metal barrels. Infuriated, the dragon made for the hunters now.
Another mine went off, and another. The dragon writhed, and kept coming, determined to avenge its pain even as scale after scale blew off, and finally as its organs began to fail. Surely, surely, they would pay.
And it was over. Aithne stepped forward two steps and kicked the dead creature in its bloody nose. Komad looked at it sadly.
/It was a magnificent beast,/ he lamented. /It is a shame we could not destroy it with more honor. But for your help, Aithne Morrigan, I thank you./
/You're welcome,/ Aithne replied solemnly. /It had to be done./
/True, but it hurts my heart,/ Komad said, and sadly, the hunter took to his speeder and departed.
"That was anticlimactic, was it not?" Bastila said coolly, gazing at the dragon with critical blue eyes.
"What," Aithne said. "Would you rather we had to fight it a day and a night before we find the Star Map and your father's holocron? C'mon, let's go."
The cave had obviously not been used by the dragon for long, but traces of its presence were still visible. Chewed corpses lay here and there, and a metallic odor made Aithne's nose itch. Bastila ran to the far end of the cave. The Star Map was there. Aithne saw it, but it was not the map that Bastila knelt down beside. She clutched a tattered red equipment pack to her breast tightly, and a single tear tracked its way through the dirt on her face. With trembling fingers she reached inside it, and pulled out the holocron of her father.
"Are you going to give it to her?" Aithne asked quietly.
"I don't know," she said, about as upset as Aithne had ever seen her. "I don't know." She held the holocron so tightly her knuckles turned white, and Aithne and Mission turned away from the Jedi girl's pain.
The Star Map, as usual, opened with a touch, and Aithne downloaded the coordinates it provided onto the customary datapad.
"The dragon probably stayed here because of the Dark Side energy in the Star Map," Bastila speculated. Her eyes were still red, but her voice was normal now, and testing her emotions, Aithne found they had calmed. "May I see the map?"
Aithne handed it over, and Bastila perused it. "Quite a few new coordinates," she said. "But we're still missing the last few vital directions to the Star Forge. We'll have to continue on to Manaan."
"Can we leave tomorrow then?" Mission asked. "This planet's kind of boring, and I have sand…everywhere."
Aithne nodded, glancing at Bastila. "We'll leave tomorrow afternoon. You'll want to say good-bye to Griff, useless or not, and I have some business with Czerka. Bastila has business in the cantina."
"Interjection:" Aytchkay put in. "Master, I do not wish to alarm you, but three organic meatbags have arrived since we entered this cave. They are armed, and are standing in a pattern that suggests they lie in wait for us."
"Someone's after us," Aithne sighed. "No, Aytchkay, I'm not alarmed. What else can you tell me about them?"
"Answer:" HK-47 answered. "The three meatbags appear to be Dark Jedi, master. Shall I kill them for you?"
Aithne shook her head. "Not for me, Aytchkay. This time, I'll help."
"Me, too," Mission said, shielding and drawing her blasters.
Bastila sighed. "Oh, if we must," she said wearily.
The three Dark Jedi were impressive looking, Aithne thought as she and her companions squared off against them at the cave entrance. They were better robed than the idiots on Korriban. The big, bald, goateed one in the center had a very self-important air to him.
"You're not Malak's usual assassins," she observed cordially.
"I should think not," the big one said haughtily. "I am most pleased to have this opportunity to kill you myself. It was good of my master to give it to me."
"Your master?" Aithne inquired politely, activating her lightsabers.
"Darth Malak," the black robed bald man said, smiling unpleasantly. "I am Darth Bandon, his own apprentice."
Aithne blinked. Wow. They really were irking Malak if he was sending his own apprentice after them. Did he need Bastila so badly then, when she wasn't even actively aiding the Republic Fleet with her Battle Meditation?
Mission sniffed. "You're Malak's apprentice?" she said. "Can't say I'm impressed."
Aithne grinned at the girl.
"Your words do not intimidate me," Bandon declared pompously. "Prepare to die."
"Query:" HK-47 asked. "Shall we incinerate the pompous meatbag, master?"
Aithne gripped her lightsabers more tightly and smiled, not taking her eyes of Bandon for a second, and was gratified to see him shift nervously, and a bit mystified when he squared off opposite her. "Oh yes, Aytchkay," she murmured to the assassin droid, "I think we shall."
For the apprentice to the Sith Lord himself, Bandon's friends weren't so tough. Mission and HK-47 together had the two nameless Dark Jedi down in thirty seconds flat. But Darth Bandon was a bit more of a problem. He had this habit of calling down lightning from the darkening sky to give himself strength every time they thought they had him. Every time it hit, Aithne, Mission, and Bastila received a nasty sting. But his saber work was terrible, and Aithne and Bastila were able to sneak in under his guard every few seconds and deal him wounds. When Aytchkay and Mission began throwing random shots in between the twirling red, yellow, and green blades, it didn't take long before Darth Bandon was losing blood faster than he could heal, and after that, it took only a minute or so to bring him down.
Aithne looked down at him quizzically. "You'd think Malak would pick a better apprentice," she said, nudging Bandon's corpse with her toe.
"Perhaps, what with the Sith being as they are, he feared a talented one might overthrow him," Bastila suggested.
Aithne nodded. "Makes sense. I ran into plenty of that on Korriban. Apprentices trying to overthrow masters, that is." Bastila shuddered.
"Hey," Mission said. "They brought speeders!" She jumped on the back of one of the three speeders. "Great. We can be back in time for dinner." She shivered. The sun was setting, and the desert was beginning to cool. "I call first shower!" And with that, she revved the engine, and was off.
"Oh, no she doesn't," said Bastila in a growl. In a flash of Jedi speed, she hopped aboard the second speeder and was after Mission.
"C'mon Aytchkay," Aithne called. HK-47 climbed on behind her on the last speeder. "Guys!" she yelled after the retreating backs of her former friends. "Wait for me!"
Aithne did end up with the last shower, unfortunately. Bastila put on a burst of Force Speed when she stopped and beat Mission to the fresher, but Mission was not to be cheated twice. Aithne yielded, but no one would say she did so gracefully.
Dinner was a merry affair, especially when Aithne informed the crew they'd be leaving for Manaan the next afternoon. No one was overly fond of Tatooine.
Aithne did not stay awake for long after dinner. She'd run up and down across the desert all day, after all. She was bone weary, and even after an hour long shower, mostly cold, she was sure that some sand remained on her body. Aithne shuddered. Sand. If she never saw it again it would be too soon.
Aithne awoke the next day rather soberly. Helena and Griff had to be dealt with today. There was cheating Czerka to look forward to, of course, but before Aithne allowed herself to play she would take care of business. She ate breakfast with Jolee and Juhani, hugged Carth, and collected Mission and Bastila. As the day was to be made up of civil calls to people that spoke Basic, Aytchkay remained on the ship.
"We'll go see your mother, first," Aithne said to Bastila in an undertone as they strode through the town towards the cantina.
"Mission?" Aithne directed towards the young Twi'lek. Mission looked at her curiously.
"What you say you find some poor idiot and play them a couple hands of Pazaak?" she suggested.
Mission grinned from ear to ear. "You got it," she said, her deck already in her hand.
Mission was hitting up possible Pazaak sharks the instant they entered the cantina. As it was still quite early in the morning, the cantina was clear, and even rather clean, except for a few all day haunters. The cloud of smoke that would develop by midday was absent, and the music could be clearly heard, unsullied by chatter and bar fights.
Helena was at the same corner table they'd met her at to begin with. Aithne wondered if she'd even moved. Her head came up, and her chin came out, and Bastila, beside Aithne, stiffened. Aithne groaned. Bastila had had the best of intentions before setting foot into the cantina. Would she be able to live up to them faced with her mother at her most defensive?
"Back already?" Helena asked, and Aithne winced at her acid tone. The woman had her shield up and her sword out, metaphorically speaking. She expected Bastila to attack, and was determined not to be the one hurt in the end. "Have you even looked for the holocron yet?"
Bastila fiddled with the holocron in her pocket, looking unsure. "I have the holocron, Mother," she said softly, though not with malice. "I'm just not sure I want to give it to you."
Aithne wasn't sure if Helena understood what Bastila meant, that she had loved her father, too, and might like to keep the holocron. At Helena's miffed expression, Aithne was willing to bet that she didn't. "And why not?" Bastila's mother demanded. "Would you deny me even that?"
Aithne closed her eyes. That's it. And it was. Bastila's eyes flashed. "I've never denied you anything, Mother!" she snapped. "You may," she turned to Aithne furiously. "You may both think I don't remember what it was like before I left for the Order, but I do!" she declared. "You were the one who pushed Father to go on one treasure hunt after the other. You loved living in wealth. You think I don't remember the fights? You were eager to send me to the Jedi, even though I didn't want to go…yes, Aithne, I did not want to go! You took Father away from me and now this holocron is all I have of him!"
At the end of her tirade, Bastila's shoulders were shaking, and she was breathing hard. She tossed her head and glared at Helena, and her posture dared Aithne to defy her.
"Fool girl," Helena chided. "You have a strange way of remembering things. That wasn't…"
"No!" Bastila cried. "I don't wish to argue with you," she said, more calmly. "I have…I have to go."
Aithne grabbed her wrist. "Bastila," she said. "Do you really need that holocron?"
"I…" Bastila stammered, then looked down. "Perhaps not," she admitted. "I can remember my father well enough. But I ask you: why should she have it?" When she mentioned her mother her voice was venomous. Helena flinched.
"You know why," Aithne hissed, not giving an inch.
Bastila looked at Aithne stubbornly. "I know you said she's sick," she said carefully. "Does she seem sick to you?"
Aithne looked at Helena's pale face and thin arms, and the look of pain on her face. "Maybe you should give her a break," she suggested again.
Bastila sighed, caving. "You're right. It shames me, but I just…I find it difficult to let go of the past." Bravely she turned to face Helena. "I…I'm sorry, Mother."
Helena's reaction took Bastila, but not Aithne, completely by surprise. The older woman's face completely softened, and she motioned for Bastila to sit down at her table. Completely disarmed, Bastila did so. "I was hard on you, dear," Helena admitted. "I wasn't a very good mother to you, I know. Your father loved you so. He wanted you to be just like him…he wanted to take you on his hunts, but I said they were too dangerous."
"Treasure hunting is dangerous," remarked Aithne off-handedly.
"I always tried to keep him from the dangerous ones," Helena protested, "but he would have none of it."
Gently, Aithne told Bastila, "Probably the fights you remember, Bastila."
Wordlessly, Bastila nodded. Helena continued. "It was a reckless life we led, always moving…I didn't want that for you."
"And that's why you gave me to the Order?" Bastila asked.
Helena sighed. "What do your father and I have to show for all those years of hunting?" She asked, then answered her own question. "Nothing. That was no life for anyone, especially not someone as gifted as you. Your father…he spent all his last years trying to pay for my treatments. That's why he went for the pearls. I begged him not to, but…"
"Treatments?" Bastila asked, looking back at Aithne. Aithne understood. She had hoped also, by fighting with Helena, to deny that her mother was dying. Now, she was forced to believe it.
Helena nodded. "I'm dying, Bastila. It's been a long time in the coming, and there's really nothing that can be done anymore. I told your father to let me go, but you know how he was." She smiled at Bastila fondly, touching her daughter's cheek with a weathered, fading hand. "Stubborn. Like you."
"I'm so sorry, Mother," Bastila murmured. "I don't know what to say."
All of a sudden Aithne felt horribly out of place. She faded into the background, laughing in amusement as she watched a grizzled old man throw his playing deck at Mission. She said nothing, merely smiled, and scooped up a pile of credits on the table. Over in the corner, Bastila and her Mother continued to talk in relative privacy. Aithne saw Bastila reach into her pack and give Helena something.
Mission strolled over to join her, whistling merrily. "Not many people here," she reported. "The ones that are I've cleaned out." She snorted. "You'd think people would be smart enough to think that a kid playing for those kind of stakes knows what she's doing, but all they see is a stupid kid."
Aithne smiled at her. "Lucky for you," she teased. "You won't be able to use that crutch much longer. People will start taking you seriously. You'll be broke!"
Helena was beckoning her now, though, and Mission, too. Aithne went over to Bastila and her mother.
"You, Aithne, was it?" Helena said abruptly. "I hear the two of you are off to save the galaxy. You take care of my daughter, you hear me? And you, girl," she said to Mission. "You learn from them both. These are good young women."
Mission nodded with uncustomary solemnity. "You're Bastila's mom?"
Helena nodded. Mission smiled at her. "I'll do it!" Helena looked at Aithne.
Aithne laughed. "Mrs. Shan, I save your daughter's butt on a regular basis. Sometimes she saves mine. But for you I promise that I'll look at her stubborn, prissy face three more times a day."
Bastila gasped indignantly, but Helena laughed. "I like her," she informed Bastila. Reluctantly, Bastila smiled. "Good," Helena told Aithne. "I'll feel a lot better knowing she has a friend like you."
"I feel a lot better because she's my friend," Aithne told Helena honestly, and Bastila smiled. Helena fairly glowed with pride.
"Farewell, Mother. Remember what I told you," Bastila said, gripping her mother's hand tight.
"Farewell, Bastila," Helena said. "Stay safe."
Bastila left the cantina smiling, and when Aithne peeked into her head, she felt peace.
Griff greeted Aithne, not Mission, when the three of them first stepped into the Czerka supply store.
"Ah, just the person I was hoping to see," he said slimily.
Mission snorted. "Save it, Griff," she said. "I just came to say good-bye. I want no part in whatever you're involved in. "
"Ok, sis," Griff said, taking a step back. "I see you're still mad. Fair enough. I don't think you could help me with this anyway. It's…uh…more of a job for your friend here."
Aithne crossed her arms. "What are you into now?" she asked impatiently.
Griff smiled. He explained that with Taris in ruins, he'd had the idea to market Tarisian Ale. Now a rarity, the product would sell hugely. He'd approached the Exchange, and they'd agreed that if he made them a sample, they could synthesize it. Unfortunately, to make the Tarisian Ale, he needed a tach gland. The tach was only to be found in the forests of Kashyyyk. In fact, it was the annoying little monkey creature that had made all that noise in the Upper Shadowlands. He would pay good money, once he got it, if Aithne would get one of those glands for him.
Mission was furious. "Griff, are you blind?" she asked, arms akimbo. "Can't you see you're talking to a Jedi? We're out here trying to save the galaxy! We can't waste time on this!"
Griff looked stricken. "Please," he said, voice high. "You have to help me! I…I promised this guy from the Exchange a sample of Tarisian Ale! If I don't come through he's gonna break my legs…or worse!"
Aithne bit her tongue to keep from shouting, but Mission had gone pale. Finally, in an even, measured tone, Aithne spoke. "What kind of idiot are you, Vao? Where do you get off promising things you can't deliver to people who will kill you if you don't?" Seeing he was about to protest, she held up a hand. "Just…shut up. Mission? You're carrying the medical pack, right?"
Mission, not comprehending, said "Yeah?" in an inquiring way.
"Look around in it," she instructed. "We picked a couple tach glands off some Czerka poachers last time on Kashyyyk."
"Oh, of course," Bastila said, recalling.
Mission looted around in the pack for a moment. Then her head emerged, and in her fist she held the tach gland. "Here's the tach gland, Griff," she said, holding it out to her brother. "Take it."
Griff's eyes lit up. "Oh, come to papa, you sweet simian organ!" he crowed. "Thanks, Mission, you won't regret helping me out with this!"
Mission looked at him, no longer angry, but oddly pitying. "Please, Griff," she said. "Let this be the last time. No more cons. No more scams. No more schemes. That's all I ask."
Griff smiled at her. It wasn't very convincing. "Hey, sis, no more worries. I've turned over a new leaf. From now on I'm going to stay out of trouble and do things right. As a matter of fact, once we get this Tarisian Ale synthesized, we'll be looking for investors." He looked Aithne up and down. "If you gave me a couple hundred…"
"No," Aithne said, cutting him off. "Vao, I don't want to invest in your as yet nonexistent Tarisian Ale venture. We've saved your butt twice now. You're good to start again. So there'll be no more credits. No more helping hands. And no investments. And, not that I think you would, but don't worry about Mission."
Mission, rather more forgiving, stretched a conciliatory hand out to her brother. "I'm stayin' with Aithne, Griff," she told him. "We're on a mission."
"We'll take care of her," Aithne told Griff Vao. "You…you take care of yourself."
Strangely, Griff nodded, and kept his words brief. "I…I understand. Mission? I'm sorry."
She smiled at him, a little sadly. "I'll see you around, Griff. Goodbye."
Just outside the shop, Aithne pulled Mission aside. "Mish? Will you be alright?"
Mission hesitated. "I…I want to thank you for helping me with my brother," she said finally. "You did a lot for Griff. More than most people would have. I'm not sure if it'll make any difference in the end," she admitted. "That 'sorry'? I have a feeling that's the last I'll see of him for a while. At least I know we tried to help him."
Aithne gripped the girl's shoulder. "Don't give up on him, though. He could still change. At least he stopped con-talking me in the end."
Mission chuckled a little. "I know people can change no matter how bad they were," she said. "But I'm not holding my breath. None of us is perfect, but I've come to realize Griff is a little less perfect than most. My brother is what he is, but I've learned to deal with that. I'll never forget that he looked after me when I was just a kid, but I don't feel like I owe him anything anymore."
Aithne looked into Mission's face. "So you're okay?"
Mission nodded. "I've made my peace with Griff and what he means to me," she said. "If he ever shows up again, I'll deal with him, but I'm not going to dwell on my brother anymore. It's time to move forward!" The last sentence was said with such Mission-like enthusiasm, that Aithne laughed in relief.
"Good!" she cried. "I'm with you every step of the way, Mish!"
And Mission looked up at her. "I know," she said, quite seriously.
A/N: So, yeah. Not a hugely important chapter from my standpoint, but it is what it is just as surely as Griff's the scum of the earth. But I hoped you liked it! And next chapter, BIG THINGS HAPPEN. Like Admiral of the Sith fleet capturing the Ebon Hawk big. So stay with me, readers! And don't forget to press that little blue button on your way out!
May the Force Be With You,
LMSharp
