Disclaimer: Ash is my creation, sure, but Revan and KOTOR are not.
I'm ba-ack! Though it really hasn't been that terribly long since my last update. So, here we have Ash. I'm afraid there's not a lot of action in this chapter, really just preparation for it. Whining is not permitted, but reviews are!
Ash woke with a jolt, her hands trembling. She noted that barely a half-hour had passed. Shivering, she forced herself to meditate, pushing away the fragments of memories that assaulted her. Gently, she prodded corner of her mind that held the bond linking her to Bastila. She shuddered as pain and memory fragments attacked.
"Force," she hissed angrily and tiredly, "our bond is what's keeping my memories suppressed. And…" she didn't want to say the truth aloud. To say it aloud would be to confirm it.
"Ash, are you alright?"
She heard Mission's pounding feet. "Yeah, Mish, I'm okay." She dropped out of her meditative pose, standing on her feet. She quickly neatened her hair and headed for the cockpit, where she could sense Carth.
He ignored her coldly. She reached out, reading the emotions that were being broadcasted to all. Pain, anger, and confusion were the strongest.
"So, I was hoping you would come with me and Jolee and Dustil to the Republic Embassy. As Captain Onasi." She said. Her words chopped up the silence. "I'd prefer to get through this trip with as few hoops as possible."
"I was planning on doing some checks on the engines and hull."
"Alright, then, never mind." She felt a little bit of irritation rising as she walked away.
"Lass, Dustil and I are ready to go."
She smiled at Jolee. "Yeah, okay… let's go then."
The trio departed, Ash at the head. After paying the docking fee, the Republic Embassy was a short walk.
"Good afternoon, Ambassador Wann." Ash said, wearing a perfect diplomat's smile.
"The same to you, Master Jedi." He nodded cordially, using the honorific title as a way of asking for her name.
"I am Jedi Master Ash," she said, "And with me are Jedi Master Jolee Bindo and my Padawan, Dustil Onasi." The named men nodded in turn. "We're here on urgent business for the Jedi Council."
"I will, of course," the man seemed nervous and shifty, "do my best to aid you, Master Ash."
"That would be nice." She felt weary of the diplomatic smile already. "I'm looking for an ancient artifact that should be somewhere along the Hrakert Rift—you wouldn't happen to know anything, would you?" She handed him a datapad with a simple sketch. "It would look something like this."
He knew something, she could tell. "I may perhaps have seen something." He finally said, still staring at the sketch. "If you'd give me some time to look through the records, perhaps do a favor while I checked…"
Ash's eyes flashed and she slammed her palms on the table separating her from the ambassador. "I am not here to play games, Ambassador." She hissed. "I am here to find the artifact. I have had a very stressful week. I am not your errand runner—"
"Master," Dustil broke in, "shouldn't we see what his," he glanced at the ambassador with distaste, "favor is?"
Ash drew a breath in through her nose. "Yes." She said. "Continue, Ambassador Wann. My apologies." She knew she didn't sound sincere, but she didn't care either.
"We sent a probe to the ocean floor for information. Some of the information it gathered may be… sensitive. It was damaged and surfaced yesterday. The Sith had enough influence with Selkath authorities to delay us long enough for them to retrieve the probe."
"And so you want me to do your dirty work and get the information back." Ash spat, bitterness creeping into her voice. "What do I get from this?"
"Complete cooperation and the use of a submersible."
She looked at Jolee, then Dustil. Their faces gave away nothing, but she could sense the distaste rolling off them. And the resignation. Her eyes were hard as she looked at the ambassador. "How do you propose we get into the Sith Embassy?"
He smiled with an edge of triumph. "We have some passcards you could crack. Or there is a prisoner you could interrogate."
"Passcards."Ash snapped. She wasn't going to interrogate anyone. She was worried about what could happen if she did, the bond that kept her memories down stretched so thin.
"There is a third option. We acquired a key to the Sith's private docking bay. From there you can take a waterspeeder over to the Embassy's back door."
"I'll try my luck at the passcards, thanks." She pulled a comm out of her belt. "Mish, would you get over to the Embassy? Got something fun fer ya ta do."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Mish?" The ambassador raised a brow.
Ash's eyes were cold. "Be grateful I'm doing this and don't ask any questions." She wasn't a good little Jedi and apparently hadn't been before.
Mission came in moments later, an unhappy red droid on her tail. "Hoops?"
She tried to smile for her daughter, but it was wavery. "Of course."
"So, what amusement do you have for me?"
"How do you feel about hacking some passcards?"
The teen grinned. "That sounds wonderful. Where are they?"
Wann led them to a room lined with computers. A small plasteel bin was on the floor, filled with the passcards. "Have at it." He said, departing calmly and quietly.
"So, Mish, crack us some passcards. We'll use them tomorrow, I think. Do you mind putting off our shopping a day?"
Mission smirked. "Yeah, I don't mind. This takes priority over that."
"I knew you were a smart kid."
"Want me to grab all of it?"
"Grab whatever you want." Her grin was gleeful—Ash'd just given her permission to copy all the data she wanted from the computers.
Then they settled down to wait while Mission did her thing. It didn't take long, Mission being a quick learner who'd picked up many more tricks on their tour of the galaxy. Soon enough, she had the Republic database copied to her massive datastick and six cracked passcards.
"All done."
Ash smiled. "Course you are, kiddo. Shall we depart? We've got plans to make."
"Yeah, we do."
The foursome and droid departed.
"Alright, I was thinking we would go in as mercs. Canderous, I want you with me."
He grinned, just a little bit. "Of course, Lady Revan."
Then Ash looked over the rest of the crew, all situated in the common room. Except Carth, who was doing something in the engine room. She really didn't mind, because it was very awkward being around him when she was the one who was ultimately responsible for his home planet being blown to bits, his wife dying, and Dustil being a Sith. And he wouldn't have made a convincing merc, not on Manaan. Dustil, however… he could probably pull it off. Mission was too distinctive and HK would happily blab to anybody about how many Sith he killed.
Ash knew there would be blood.
Zaalbar could probably pull it off… Jolee could not. And T3 was of more use as a hacker than as a fighting droid.
"I will come." Zaalbar roared.
Ash nodded and rolled her shoulders. "Alright. Let's head for the cantina and see if we can get a datapad from a Sith recruiter to go with our passcards. That, and a little Force persuasion, should get us past the front desk pretty easily. I think we'll have to wing it from there."
"If we don't get a datapad?"
"Shouldn't matter that much. It's just insurance." She ran a hand through her hair. "How 'bout we head for the cantina in two hours?" The Mandalorian and the Wookiee nodded. She left the room, heading for the dorms. It was time to get made up as a merc.
Ash sighed, studying herself in the mirror. She could see how thin she'd gotten after a week-long bender with no food and heavy use of the Force to block the Force as best she could. In black leather, her eyes looked more deeply shadowed.
She realized that she really, really, really hated that mirror. It showed too many ugly truths. She'd gotten skinny, ribs clear though the tight black leather she wore. The reflective glass showed dark hollows under her eyes. Her eyes had a flat, lifeless tone to them. New lines, few and faint, were etched into her skin. Ash sighed at her young-old reflection and began to pull on the Echani fiber armor that had been long put in one of the storage bins. It still fit her well, though a bit loose on her thin frame. It was flexible and non-restricting, disguising her thinness.
Ash wrapped a belt around her hips, putting her guard shotos in gun holsters, sliding the lightwhip down her boot. After a second of hesitation, she also slipped her vibroknives, long disused, in her boots and on each of her inner forearms. Their weight was familiar and she wondered if Reva—she had used them.
She went in search of HK, who was in the cargo hold, pulling her hair back from her face so that the sharp planes of it were clearly visible. "HK, did I ever use knives before?" She asked.
"Statement: Why, master, I believe you were teaching yourself to throw them before you sent me away on my mission."
"What about lightsabers? How good was I with my guard shotos, with a lightwhip?"
"Statement: Master, you were building your lightwhip when I left, but you were proficient with your guard shotos."
"How long before… the events," she couldn't say 'before Malak shot me and left me for dead' because it was painful and she didn't even want to think about the rest, "did I send you off?"
"Contemplative statement: Six months at most, master."
"Force," she muttered, "I hope six months was long enough."
The cantina was remarkably clean for a cantina, but Ash felt like it was because of the Selkath laws rather than a conscientious proprietor. She ordered a meal and tihaar.
"Should you be drinking?"
"I'm fine, Z." Ash said nonchalantly, taking a gulp of the tihaar. The alcohol sat warm in her belly as she slowly ate the meal in front of her, playing with the food between bites.
Ash noticed Canderous talking to a Sith-looking man in the back of the cantina. Her eyes then tracked a Selkath, who was glancing at them, apparently trying to decide if she was worth approaching. He apparently decided and came to the table.
"Am I correct in that you are no friend of the Sith?"
The burbling Selkath language was smooth and sleek, like water. "The Sith are far from my allies. Or employers."
"And the Republic?"
"I have issues with them, to, but not as many issues as I have with the Sith."
"I am Shaelas."
"Ash." She said.
"My daughter, Shasa, went missing some weeks ago. I suspect it is the doing of the Sith."
"I'd be more than happy to look into that for you." She smiled—a real purpose. "And don't bother paying me. I'm wealthy enough."
The Selkath looked skeptical, which Ash took to mean he'd try to get her to take money at some point, but nodded. "I am here every evening at about this time."
"I'll have information soon." She called as the Selkath walked away.
"So, what job did you take from the fish?" Canderous asked, taking a seat.
"I'll fill you in later." She gulped the last of the tihaar. "So, didja get the datapad?"
He grunted. "The recruiter wasn't too keen on handing it over."
"Well, the passcards will have to be enough. We should probably head back for some rest. Tomorrow will be a long day."
"It will." Canderous grunted. Zaalbar chuffed, Wookiee laughter.