You look like hell, Republic."
"Better than your ugly mug, Mandalorian," Carth grumbled as he swung into the pilot's seat. "And good morning to you, too." Blearily, Carth studied the controls. "Okay. How far are we from Kashyyyk?"
Canderous shrugged. "A parsec, maybe two. He glanced down and saw the small tin of neuro pills next to the giant mug of caffa Carth had brought to the front with him. He picked it up and opened it, then snapped it shut again. "You've been popping them like an addict, Carth."
Carth reached up and swiped them from Canderous's hand. "Unless you want me to fly this thing half-blind from a headache, you just mind your business." He took two from the tin, swallowed them down and followed it up with a gulp of caffa. He sighed in relief as the caffa started to remove the fog from his brain. The neuros would kick in after a few minutes. At least now, he was functional. Shifting in his chair, he listened for a moment. "You might want to send T3 down to the engine room. The port stabilizers are off a bit. Nothing critical, mind you, just needs a check."
"You must still be drunk," he taunted.
Carth threw it right back. "Just check those stabilizers, bantha-wit."
Canderous grumbled something about Republic men who hadn't had their rumps kicked enough during the war and checked the stabilizer readouts. Sure enough, they were off – a few centimeters at most and within the normal range, just not optimum.
"How did you do that? The computers barely registered it."
Not much different than you being able to watch someone fight and discern the fighting style." Carth busied himself with checks of the other readouts. "I've probably clocked a good half of my adult life at the controls of some craft or another."
Canderous dropped the subject, throwing a warning over his shoulder as he headed for the door. "I'd not suggest leaving this cockpit until we get to Kashyyyk. It would appear that the Jedi princess is to hold court in the common area."
Carth rolled his eyes. "Lovely. Thanks for the heads-up, Canderous. I'd suggest going to quarters and playing dead."
"Already planning to," Canderous said, opening the cockpit door and stepping through.
He was flying solo. Routine, somewhat dull. The neuros were clearing up the headache, and there was barely a swallow left of the caffa when he heard three knocks on the cockpit door. Carth knew the signal well enough. Strange that habit of hers - Kairi was so unfailingly polite that she always knocked on the cockpit door before coming in. Bastila and Mission would just open the door, though Carth was teaching the kid to at least announce her presence at the door before sneaking up behind him.
"C'mon in, Kairi."
The door opened and Kairi walked in, holding two ration packs and two cups of caffa. She looked down at the mug still next to Carth's chair. "Oh, you brought your own."
"Ah, I drained it." He swiveled behind him and took one of the mugs from Kairi's hand. As he was reaching for it, his elbow hit the near-empty mug and knocked it off the console. Kairi stared at it, and the cup (with contents) halted in mid spill, reversing back onto the console.
"Nice trick," he said.
She shrugged. Putting the full mugs and one of the bars on the console, she sat in the co-pilot's seat and unwrapped her own breakfast.
"So what brings a pretty lady like you to a place like this, " he teased.
Kairi nibbled on the bar and talked between bites. "Juhani is still sleeping, and I wasn't going to interrupt Bastila's meditations. I also came to honor our agreement."
"Agreement?" By now, he and Kairi had so many unspoken agreements that Carth wasn't certain which one she was referencing.
"Yes," she said. "Tattooine. I promised you that I would 'keep you in the loop.'"
"Ah, yes. That. Didn't.... well, I didn't expect you to."
She looked at him strangely. "Why wouldn't I?" She thought a bit more, and seemed to understand. "Yes, as you said on Taris. Well, since I can't earn your trust, I'll attempt not to earn your suspicion. Fair enough?" She sighed and leaned back in the chair. "There was another vision last night."
"Vision? You and Bastila seeing things again?"
She nodded. "I know she'll want to discuss it right away, but I could use a few minutes beforehand. The visions aren't...comfortable."
Having a couple Sith Lords prowling around in your sleep? No, I don't figure that would be. "Can't blame you," he said aloud.
Kairi described the dream without much detail. Revan and Malak were looking for the Star Map. They mentioned the upcoming battle in the Malachor system, putting the date a little under five years earlier. Carth asked few questions and concentrated on being a good listener.
She sighed when she finished. "I wish I didn't have to trust these. Sometimes, I wonder what would have happened if Fate left me alone. And I wonder about my life before. My file says I was not married and that my parents are gone...but did I have friends?" Carth noticed her olive skin color a bit and her eyes shyly look away. "Perhaps a lover?"
In that instant, Carth could feel the sting. What would it have been like to not remember? It was tempting to envy her. She did not have memories like his, but instead there was a great void. No, it was not enviable. The blank space probably was a different kind of pain than being chained to the past, but it was pain nonetheless.
He reached out for her and tapped her shoulder. She turned and looked up at him with those beautiful dark eyes, and Carth felt his breath quicken as he cupped her chin in his hand. Nothing but the console was between them, their faces so close...
In that moment, he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to do a lot more than kiss her. He started to lean over that console towards her, and -
"Ahem. Kairi."
Of all the damned times to come barging in! Carth tried to recover what was left of his dignity by going back to the controls and glancing over his shoulder.
"Damn it, Bastila! You know that you can knock."
She arched one perfectly-formed eyebrow. "From what it looks like, I wasn't interrupting anything important. Kairi, please, I'd like to ask you about the vision we shared last night. I've already summoned Mission and Zaalbar into the common room. I should think Zaalbar would have insight into where to attempt looking for the Star Map, as Kashyyyk is his native world."
Kairi got up and nodded to Carth, then turned around and headed out the cockpit door, closing it behind her.
"By now, you must have sensed his intentions towards you, Kairi," Bastila said in a low, firm voice. "Mind your feelings and the Code."
Kairi sighed. "'Yes, I did read...certain emotions from him. But I also know he will not act on them. You've seen the ring on his finger. I can't get anything more out of him than knowing he misses her very much." She put her hands behind her back.
Bastila scowled. "Then he hasn't told you, nor have you read his service record."
"Neither one," Kairi said. "And I don't try to read deeper than the surface when it comes to his emotions, either. Carth is a good man. The more I have come to know him, the more I respect his right to privacy."
Bastila shook her head and led Kairi into the converted stateroom/sickbay as not to be heard. "I would have thought he would have told you by now, but Carth is not married."
Kairi looked confused, but allowed Bastila to explain. "Carth is widowed. Saul Karath attacked Telos with a battle fleet as a test of his new loyalties. Among the dead were Carth's wife and son. That was four years ago." Bastila took Kairi's arm. "What he wishes would not be healthy - for either of you."
Bastila saw Kairi step back from her to slump against a wall. "Oh, Carth. I...I can't fathom how it must have felt for him." Kairi crossed her arms and rubbed her biceps as if cold. "But it would explain the loneliness and empty feelings I sense from him, not to mention the rage he has towards Admiral Karath."
"I worry that he has attached himself to you - and to Mission - as surrogates for that he has lost. I worry what will happen when he finds out what you are."
"What I am?"
Damn, damn, damn! Bastila tried to cover her poor phrasing best she could. "You are a Jedi, Kairi. I tried to tell you on Tattooine, and I must reiterate it here. What Carth does not understand, you will have to make him understand. We are creatures of duty - emotional attachments complicate things needlessly and pave openings for the passions and irrationality of the Dark Side. The ties should be severed as cleanly as possible."
Unbidden, Bastila could see her mother lying on her deathbed - so frail, so sad...and there had been so little time to say good-bye. Well, it certainly should have reminded her of why the Order discouraged such attachments. If she had never seen her mother again, then she would still have her peace. If she had never learned of her father's fate, then she would not feel that tiny spark of resentment towards her masters - resentment she would have to lock away and jettison at the nearest opportunity.
Oh, but the ache...Six years old all over again as she ran for the Enclave doors to hug daddy good-bye and feeling Master Pallu's hand on her shoulder, holding her still as the door closed with an ominous clank. And it would be the last time she would ever see him, just as that too-brief night on Tattooine would have to do as a last farewell to her mother.
She felt cloth being pressed to her cheekbone. Had she - a Jedi Padawan, finest example of the Order's teachings - actually betrayed so much as to shed tears? Great Force, she was losing her control. She cracked her eyes open, not realizing she had squeezed them shut, and felt more tears reach her cheek.
"Carth is not the only ones who grieves," Kairi said, barely above a whisper. "You've suffered a terrible loss and haven't allowed yourself to let go of it. Please don't waste your strength needlessly."
Bastila snatched the cloth from Kairi. "Leave, please. I appear to have been lax in my morning meditations."
Confusion and pity shot down the link. Damn this woman and damn her own weaknesses! Bastila took a look behind her, hoping to tell Kairi to leave her be, only to find that her charge had unobtrusively left.
An hour or so later, the Ebon Hawk burst from hyperspace to view the forested world of Kashyyyk. They hailed the only landing port there was on the planet - a Czerka Corporation outpost - and were granted permission to land. As they swooped into the planet's atmosphere, Mission gasped and pressed herself against the window. The starry sky, the massive trees and the light of the moons...it had to be the most incredible place she had ever seen! The Ebon Hawk flew barely over the tops of the massive wroshyr branches, affording her the best view.
"This...this is your home, Zaalbar? It's...it's beautiful!"
"And dangerous. From what I have heard, nothing has changed. Slavers still prey on my people, and the galaxy has turned its back."
Mission patted his back. "No one's gonna make a slave out of you, buddy. Kairi and I will see to that."
"Small comfort, but I thank you."
"No problem," she said. "But I am really curious about your home, Big Z. I've tried not to pry. I mean...I respect you and your right to stay quiet, but I've always been curious about you."
"I am not certain what I could tell you, or even what I would want to, Mission. Though I care much for you, you are still a Twi'lek - an outsider. It angers me that there is so much I cannot explain - even to you."
She looked up at him and smiled. "I'm at your back, Zaalbar, if that helps."
He smiled sadly. "Come on. Bastila mentioned that she wanted to speak to me about Kashyyyk and what they can expect in their quest. I only hope they do not ask me to come with them."
"Zaalbar?" Juhani stood in the door, hands behind her back. "Bastila and Kairi have gathered in the front room and are discussing their vision. Are you willing to speak with them?"
"I suppose I don't have a choice," Zaalbar said. "This planet is dangerous...and the greatest danger isn't the native creatures."
"Yes," Juhani said bitterly. "I believe the three of us will have special dangers to attend to. I take it you are referring to the slave transport we saw on our way to land at the dock?"
Zaalbar scowled. "That is exactly what I'm referring to. But your kind also must fear the chains of a slaver?"
Juhani nodded. "Very much so. Indeed, I felt the bite of a slaver collar around my own neck long ago...a terrible lifetime ago." Her jaw tightened, and her lean body tensed like a pulled string. She took a deep breath and whispered the first line from the Code.
Mission looked a little pale as she put a hand on Juhani's shoulder. "Yeah, I've had my own run-ins with 'em, too. A lot of perverts will pay big for Twi'lek girls. Had to sleep with one eye open most of the time back on Taris."
"Taris..." The word sounded unnaturally heavy under Juhani's lilting accent. A cascade of emotion passed through her face for a moment - grief, bitterness, anger - before she returned to the famous Jedi calm. "A place that held so much for all of us, it would appear. Come, Bastila does not like to wait."
****
Bastila was pacing the common room when they came in. "The Force is guiding us, helping retrace the steps of Malak and his old master - leading us ever closer to the Star Forge."
"Do you know anything about this planet, Bastila?" Kairi asked, leaning over one of the sensor panels.
"Kashyyyk is a lush, but simple and undeveloped world. I would not have expected to find the alien technology of a Star Map here." Bastila gestured for them to come into the room. "I see you've finally agreed to join us."
Mission sat on one of the sofas, crossing her arms (and head-tails) with apprehension. Juhani stood next to it, her gold eyes following Bastila's route around the room. Zaalbar was bringing up the rear, stooping to get through the low door without smacking his head.
The dark-haired Jedi smiled. "Oh, you said that about Tattooine, too." She swung into the console's seat, checking the sensors for the unique energy signatures they had detected on Tattooine. "It looked to be on the forest floor in our vision."
Zaalbar gasped, halting in the doorframe. "The...forest floor? Are you certain, Kairi?"
Kairi nodded. "Yes," she said. "Revan and Malak were on the forest floor. Is there a chance that your people may have encountered it?"
"My people make their homes in the upper branches. Only our bravest warriors venture to the far depths of the forest on their sacred hunts. If they have encountered such a thing, then they would not share the story readily with outsiders like yourselves."
"I see," Bastila said. "Then we are to look for it unaided, then?"
Zaalbar shook his head, running his fingers through his fur nervously. He spoke only to Kairi. She carried his left-debt, so she was entitled to know. "The Shadowlands are a sacred place, Kairi. Much of it is uncharted and unexplored. It is a place of great danger as well. Kinrath spiders and katarn beasts rove in packs and carnivorous blossoms can devour one of even my species!" Zaalbar let out a sigh that echoed off the metal bulkheads. "But there is beauty in the danger, harmony in the unknown...Ah, the words of your kind cannot explain it. I am sorry."
She looked up at him curiously. Indeed, it was hard not to be flooded. Zaalbar was usually quiet aboard the ship, no doubt a little uncomfortable. The Ebon Hawk's corridors had been designed for humans, and were claustrophobic for a giant like him. He also had remarked to Kairi that he was not used to friendly humans, having spent too long seeing them as potential slavers. Kairi took care to treat him with respect. She was still not clear about what a life-debt meant fully, but she could sense how Zaalbar and Mission both saw her, and she wanted to be the kind of person they'd convinced themselves she was.
"You're going home, buddy. That's great news for you...." Mission's enthusiasm dimmed considerably as she saw Zaalbar hanging his head. "Well, isn't it?"
"From what I have heard from the Czerka workers on Tattooine, the situation has become bleak indeed. You know already how I was beset by slavers during a hunt, of how they brought me to Taris as a beast for one of the Upper City nobles to collect as a trophy." Another heavy sigh.
Juhani narrowed her gold eyes, and Kairi could feel the other woman's bitterness - fetid and hot like a wound unhealed. "Yes," she said, muttering. "I know those...collectors...too well."
"Juhani..." Bastila warned. "Mind those emotions."
Though they had been traveling together for two months now, there were still salient conflicts, sharp edges that scraped against psyches, and caused dissonance. Juhani struggled with anger and bitter feelings while Bastila locked her emotions away in a proverbial strong box, and seemed to be sitting on the lid as they struggled to free themselves. Zaalbar's quiet demeanor hid turbulence beneath the calm surface, turbulence he tried to hide from those who would be close to him. Mission was thankfully guileless, saying and expressing as much as she was honestly able.
Juhani rose and glowered at Bastila. "I am, Bastila. But you mind that not all of us have had the privilege of being sheltered in an enclave for all of their lives." She threw up her hands in frustration. "Even now, I struggle...I...I have been wrestling with my feelings inside, trying to come to terms with it, but I find I cannot."
Defensively, Kairi blocked out her mind, but sprang between them, taking Juhani's shoulders. "Juhani..."
"You have no idea of what others must endure," Juhani continued to growl at Bastila. "To walk down the streets, to have people look at you in disgust; like an animal. Most did not know anything about me, but it was there all the same. Because I was 'alien' - different from them, frightening. I doubt any of them had seen my people before, so they persecuted me. They looked down upon me and my family, charged us more for food, spat on us, would not let us walk down 'their' streets..."
Kairi tried to push Juhani back and away from Bastila. "Juhani, please!"
"Just let me vent my anger! I need...I need something to blame - anything!" As quickly as the flash of rage started, it passed, and she sagged. Kairi steered Juhani to the other side of the room.
"She needs chastisement, not comfort," Bastila said to Kairi. "Comfort will only reward that behavior."
"Who died and made YOU Jedi master, Bastila?" Mission stood up, hands balled into fists.
Bastila closed the gap between her and Mission. "Do not speak to me on topics you know nothing of, youngling."
Mission raised her fist. "I may be young, but I can still..."
"ROARRRRR!" Zaalbar's shout shook the bulkheads and brought all conversation in the room to a dead halt. Kairi sighed, still looking pale with between the morning's vision and the toll of trying to keep the arguments blocked from her mind. She smiled weakly at Zaalbar.
"Thank you, Zaalbar," Kairi said, joking feebly.
He bowed slightly. "Glad to help."
Kairi walked to the center of the room, leaning on the console in its center. "Please, everyone. The Council, the Republic...they're expecting us to do this, and if we're fighting among ourselves, we're just better targets for the Sith, or...other enemies."
Zaalbar had scooted over to the far end of the padded bench. His head was hanging and he almost seemed to be curling in on himself. The effect would have been comic if not for the distraught expression on his face. "I fear, Kairi, that I may make things worse for you, not better."
"What of your people, Zaalbar?" asked Juhani. "Do they not resist this plague upon them?"
"When I left, some did, but there are also traitors in the midst of my own kind. Too often those who stood against this became the targets of the slavers."
"Our job here is to get the Star Map - remember this," Bastila warned. "We are also not to draw attention to ourselves, lest we alert the Sith."
"You do have a point, Bastila," Kairi said.
"Good," Bastila thought a moment. "And perhaps there is a way to go unnoticed. Slavers will not speak to us if we go about announcing we are Jedi. There are some fine clothes in the cargo hold - Tarisian high fashion. It should serve our purposes."
Juhani scowled when she realized what Bastila planned.
They landed at Czerka's space dock and paid their fees. Mission and Zaalbar were first off the ship, Kairi, Bastila, and Juhani at the rear. Zaalbar looked around, sniffing the air.
"I...I know this place, the sounds, the smells. The walkway and the dock are recent. We have no need for these things when traveling the branches, but this place is close to Rwookrrorro - my home village!"
"That's good news, right?" Mission looked around cautiously.
"I had thought I would never return. Perhaps, I never should have..."
"I feel...dirty in these..." Kairi whispered to Bastila. The fabrics were satiny micro-fibers, and both women wore glass jewels and thick nerf-wool capes lined in silk. Apparently, Davik entertained many a girlfriend or prostitute aboard the Ebon Hawk, and wished them attired to his liking. Bastila dressed in the finer clothing, looking every bit the aristocrat. Kairi's costume was subdued by comparison - passing herself off as the slave-handler or personal servant.
"Remember our role, Kairi," Bastila said. Kairi could sense that her Jedi mentor only felt slightly less uncomfortable and disgusted with what they were going to pretend.
They walked into the Czerka office to pay their docking fare, and were directed to the protocol officer when they tried to ask for information. The local Protocol Officer, an Ithorian named Janos Wertka, came to greet them. "Welcome to Edean, planet G5-623. As always, Czerka welcomes new and returning customers."
"Edean?" Kairi asked. "I thought this planet was called Kashyyyk."
"That is the name the dominant indigenous species gives this world, but maintaining the outpost gives Czerka Corporation naming rights in the trade guides. Given your choice of traveling companion, I do not think you will require a translator."
Kairi tried not to let her tension show as she redoubled her efforts to block out her companions. Nothing could be blocked entirely, of course. It was more like covering one's ears in a noisy cantina - filtering down the din to levels that were more comfortable.
She could hear Juhani mutter the Code under her breath in an effort not to betray her anger. Mission scowled and was doing only slightly better then Juhani in maintaining her temper. But they were muted compared to Zaalbar! Normally the very model of the term "gentle giant," the Wookiee was blasting rage and murderous anger at the Ithorian protocol officer. Kairi was astonished as the level of control he was exerting not to give into it. It would have made a Jedi master pale.
The life-debt, Kairi realized. The only reason he keeps himself under control is because he feels that I own his life and cannot act unless I wish it. The understanding stunned Kairi, and made her realize the delicacy of the situation. If she gave into her own anger about this atrocity, Zaalbar could lose his freedom - or his life.
Janos spoke only to Bastila. "It would appear that you are quite the collectors of exotic species. Perhaps you are in the market for another Wookiee? You appear to be pleased with your current purchase."
Kairi was tempted to tell Janos where he could go, and what he could do there, using some of the saltier language she'd picked up from Carth and Canderous. The greed and callous disrespect for life rolled off the man like rancid oil and made her gag. Kairi bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to draw blood.
"This is merely a refueling stop," Bastila said, lying easily. "But I am curious about your operations. How is it that the Republic allows you to do this?"
"This is not a Republic world, and Czerka is too large to be accountable to outside law. The company polices itself according to the charter we submitted on Courscant. Inquiries may be made there if one wishes to read it."
"We'll pass," Bastila said dryly. Kairi sent her gratitude down the bond. At the moment, everyone else was controlling their tempers, and Kairi was attempting to deal with the overload. "And a restraining device shall not be required. Zaalbar's loyalty is assured by a life-debt sworn to my assistant."
"A life-debt. That is hard to arrange!" Janos commented.
Kairi felt a near-audible snap in her head before Zaalbar roared at the Ithorian. "Do not mock the life-debt! I should tear you and all your slaving kind apart where you stand!"
"Hostile turf, Big Z," Mission said quietly. "Starting a fight here isn't a good idea..."
There is no emotion...Kairi held up her hand. "Let me handle this, please."
Suspicion crossed Janos's narrow face as he watched Zaalbar. "I must warn you that you will be held responsible for the actions of your Wookiee. Please, call him off..."
Mission pulled on Zaalbar's arm and drew him back from the Ithorian, standing slightly in front of him.
Bastila was still trying to deal with Janos. "So, the slaving operations are the reason Czerka set up shop here?"
"Look around. This planet has many resources, but they are underdeveloped. We are currently testing indigenous plant life for medicinal purposes, but research takes time and money. The bio-harvesting of the Wookiees provides an economic base for later diversification."
"I wonder how Czerka manages it," Kairi said, her voice riding a knife's edge. "The Wookiees are neither a weak or passive people. Surely, you have resistance."
"Arrangements have been made with the local leadership. Harvesting is handled quite delicately," Janos said impatiently. "As I'm certain you must know, a compliant local government was important to establish even before we built the spaceport and started operations."
"Interesting." The iciness in Kairi's voice made Mission wince.
"If it will satisfy you, I will give you the details. We supply arms and technology in exchange for a supply of healthy Wookiees. Both sides profit. I'm glad I don't deal directly with the local Chieftain, thank goodness. Far too brutish."
"Is there any way I may meet this Chieftain?" Bastila asked. "I'm looking for something he may know about."
"If Chuundar knew anything, he would be happy to report it."
Zaalbar's face blackened with rage. "Chuundar...Foul traitor! I was hoping never to hear his name again."
"Whoa! Whoa!" Mission said. "Who is this guy?"
"Zaalbar, what is it?" Kairi asked.
"I will have to explain later - away from Czerka ears."
"Very well, Zaalbar," Bastila said plainly. "Thank you."
The Ithorian drew back his hammer-shaped head. "You allow the beast to speak directly to you? That is more liberties that most of our customers permit. It would also appear that your thrall is unhappy with this arrangement, but Chuundar's leadership is not questioned."
"I guess that would conclude our conversation," Bastila was still even, aloof - the perfect aristocrat. It was a good thing she was able to play such a part, too. Kairi wanted nothing more than to crawl back into the ship and get away from this place.
"Very good. Feel free to inspect our facilities, but I would advise against going too far from the outpost. This is a brutal planet, and we do not send patrols for lost tourists."
Janos watched them as they left, then called over one of the patrol captains - a sleazy-looking Twilek. "Those women are not what they claim. I think they're here to cause trouble. Watch them closely. I'll make arrangements for their ship in the meantime..."
****
While the women and their "collection" were making inquiries at the Czerka office, Carth was put in charge of provisioning and finding repair parts for the ship. The wooden planks creaked beneath his feet, and made Carth a bit edgier than he wanted to be. It was an awfully long drop if these folks cut corners on the construction. On his heels, T3-M4 glided along like a faithful pet. The droid's sensors would be helpful in picking out parts as the little guy could see flaws or damage that the naked eye wouldn't.
He was scanning around for a kiosk or parts shop of some kind when he heard a voice calling out to him.
"Carth! Carth Onasi, is that you?"
Carth could hardly believe his ears. "Jordo?" Turning around, he faced his old friend. Jordo certainly had changed a lot since the Telos militia - he sported a full beard and a few wrinkles now, and he had filled out somewhat. He still had the round face and the stocky build that were hard to miss, though.
"It IS you, isn't it?" Jordo put out his hand and shook Carth's. "I knew it when I laid eyes on you! You old space dog, how have you been? I thought for sure that you'd be fighting on a ship out there."
"I was. I crashed." Carth punctuated it with a shrug.
Jordo laughed. "That's pretty rich! I can't imagine what it would take to put you on the ground."
"So, what are you doing here, Jordo? The last time I saw you was on...um...well, Telos, actually."
Jordo let go of Carth's hand and sighed, shaking his head. "Yeah. It's a shame about home. Telos still hasn't recovered. The family and I moved on. I have my own ship now, carrying cargo. Damned if my engineer didn't quit last port. Know where I could find a decent one on this rock?"
"Not off the top of my head, Jordo, sorry."
"Nice ship you got there," he said. "Saw her when you landed."
"Ah, I just fly her."
"Look, I gotta get back to my ship, so I'll leave you be, but if you run into a good mechanic who needs a job, I'm at dock seven, trying to make do without one. Maybe we can hook up later for a drink and a little reminiscing."
"First part sounds good, at least. See you around, Jordo."
He's done well for himself, it looks like. Carth thought. And at least the lucky dog still has a family and a place to go...He rolled his shoulders to get rid of the knot that was starting to form in his back and patted T3-M4 on the top of its chromed head. "C'mon, little guy. We've got some parts to pull."
Across from the rough-hewn cantina was an open-air kiosk, selling weapons and equipment. The merchandise was stowed in footlockers and metal crates, aside from one half-repaired droid that a young human man was working on while another human stood near the payment register.
"So, new spacers have come to wild Edean?" said the snooty-looking human. In comparison with the technician's plain coveralls, he was dressed in finery suitable more for the Tarisian Upper City than a hostile forest. "Please, look well upon the wares of Eli Gand. I live to serve your needs."
"Just be sure to pay cash," drawled the man that was pulling fried parts from a damaged droid. "The interest on his loans will drain you like a Deluvian flatworm on a Hutt's backside."
"First off, Hutts are all backside. Secondly, I don't much like the comparison. No need to get personal; it's just business." He turned back to Carth. "Poor fellow. He's been waiting for his friends to return for a standard month now. Ah, but you needn't hear of this..."
"I know, Eli," grumbled the indentured mechanic. "Standard trading rules. I just want to know where the crew went. I was only gone for two days. This isn't like them."
Eli had a smile like a viper, his voice full of mock sympathy. "Yes, rather sad that they would abandon you, especially while you were doing me a favor by repairing one of my freighters. You think you know someone, and they turn out to be a cheat. Oh, not like you, Matton. You honor your deals. A word is a bond in trade."
"Nice arrangement," Carth drawled as he inspected a stabilizer coupling. "Looks like slavery is standard practice here."
"Enslave? I resent that!" Eli barked. ""Simply fair business - this man's fellows left without settling their debts, so he stays behind to work it off. It happens from time to time, you know. Especially with spacers. Credits are scarce, and not everyone is as honest as Mr. Dasol here."
"You'll get your damn money, Eli."
"Of course I will. Until then, however, I can make use of your superior mechanical skills."
"An honest guy and a top-notch mechanic..." commented Carth, putting the stabilizer aside. "I wonder how much debt buys a man's life."
"Oh, the amount isn't important. Matton here is worth far more than what is owed, especially on this planet. It's the principle. I am an honest man, and Matton is even more so. His friends show up and settle his debt, and he'll be free to go. Let no one say otherwise. Besides, he's a hard worker. I'd hate to lose him."
"What do you know about Kashyyyk?" Carth tried to play casual. "First time here. The guys I work for have some business with Czerka, I don't know what."
"I don't concern myself with what goes on past the spaceport. The Wookiees are...ahem...very difficult to deal with. No business sense."
"Low tolerance for cheats...I can see that..." Carth grumbled. Half this crap was overpriced, and the other half was pure junk.
"No, they don't respect the finer points of a good business plan - give and take. That is why Czerka merely takes."
"Speaking of taking," Carth said, an idea coming to him. "How much would it take to -"
"Hullo, Eli." Carth smelled the man before he saw him. He was an ugly man - one Carth could see was down to the soul ugly. He shuffled along with one gimpy leg, and carried a Mandalorian blaster carbine (one of the nastiest blaster rifle models ever made). The man stank of old blood, sweat and cheap booze, and Carth was willing to wager the man hadn't had a trip to the fresher since Exar Kun's
"Hullo, Eli." Carth smelled the man before he saw him. He was an ugly man - one Carth could see was down to the soul ugly. He shuffled along with one gimpy leg, and carried a Mandalorian blaster carbine (one of the nastiest blaster rifle models ever made). The man stank of old blood, sweat, and cheap booze, and Carth was willing to wager the man hadn't had a trip to the fresher since Exar Kun's War. He dropped an equipment pack at Eli's feet. "Another good hunt," he said, his scarred face breaking into a sinister grin. "Helping Czerka in putting down the beasts. Mighty profitable ventures, too."
Eli's eyes lit with a greed that would make a Hutt blush and dove into the pack, pulling out a couple bowcasters and some rather ordinary blasters and short vibroblades. He inspected the goods, then fished out a wad of credit vouchers and handed it over. "Good show of salvage, Mr. Xor. Always a pleasure doing business with you."
As Xor hobbled away from Eli's makeshift shop, Carth noticed that the injury to his leg didn't seem to slow him down much. Carth couldn't keep his eyes off the bowcasters, either. The massive crossbow-style weapons were almost exclusively made by and for Wookiees. The blasters looked used, too, as did a few trinkets Eli was pawing through at the bottom of the pack. This Xor was a hunter, all right...one that preferred his prey sentient.
Aside from Eli's kiosk, the spaceport consisted of the Czerka office (the only building here made of stone - sticking out like an insult among the wood), and a rough-hewn cantina. Advisories were posted to come armed and that Czerka would take no responsibility for injuries or deaths caused by wandering from the spaceport. The Czerka guards and employees were especially surly to them when they saw Zaalbar was traveling along.
The dominant topic of conversation among the workers was about money - how much they could grab before the planet's resources were exhausted.
"Nice planet," Mission muttered.
"It was not always this way, Mission," Zaalbar said sadly. "If only you could have seen it as I did. Now, it seems much like Taris - a land where the corrupt prosper and the honorable suffer."
"Taris," Juhani said bitterly as she walked. "As much as I hated it, it still was home."
"Didn't know you were from there Juhani," Mission said. "And I'm sorry it was a bad place for you. I liked it okay...but I never knew anything else, either."
"For me, it was hell," she explained. "When the Mandalorians attacked my home world, my parents were among the lucky few who escaped. They carried me with them as a baby. They fled as far and as fast as they were able. When they reached Taris, I think they could run no further." Juhani let out a bitter sigh and leaned over the walkway's railing, part staring into the distant woods, part looking into the distant past. "But it was a terrible choice they made. Intolerant of other species, infested with filth and crime, and the few jobs for non-humans were backbreaking labor for meager pay."
"Hey," Mission said. "I know Taris wasn't great, but it wasn't all THAT bad, was it?"
"Mind your emotions, Juhani," Bastila warned.
Juhani whipped around so quickly her topknot took a second to catch up with her. "If it were not for you, Bastila, the Sith would not have had reason to destroy that world. It was your fault for being there!" She thrust out her hand as an accusation. "Without your intervention, the Sith would have had no cause to lay waste to my childhood, to destroy all I had known prior to Dantooine."
Kairi stepped between them. "Juhani, please!"
Juhani pulled back her fury, but not the bitterness in her voice. "As much as I hated that world, everything I learned as a child, I learned there. It is as much part of me as the air I breathe. I...I have this ache inside where all my childhood memories lay, and find your face there with them. If not for you, that world would still exist!"
"I am sorry, Juhani, but there...there was nothing we could do to stop it," Kairi said.
"Kairi's right," said Mission. "I was...I was there. Please don't be mad at Bastila. It's not her fault. She wasn't the one..." Mission shuddered.
"There is no emotion, there is peace...there is no death, there is the Force..." Juhani whispered, forcing herself to cool her rage. She let out a deep breath. "I forget myself."
"It would seem that there is still much for you to learn," Bastila said. "This anger of yours is dangerous, Juhani."
Turning on her heel, Kairi blasted her disapproval to Bastila with her face and the Force. Bastila was still stone-faced, giving no indication that any of this had moved her. She looked upon all of them with subtle disapproval.
Attachments to places, things, and people. Do you not see now how they corrupt? Kairi let out a sigh of annoyance. Bastila could read her thoughts and communicate in mental speech, but Kairi was unable to do the same, limited only to all those untidy emotions Bastila was trying to suppress and purge. While Kairi had long ago dismissed this as Bastila's method of following the Code to the letter, a growing part was starting to wonder if it wasn't deliberate mind-blocking. And what Kairi had seen on Dantooine as control and dignity was starting to look more like arrogance.
"We'll talk about this later," Kairi responded. It was the politest response she could think of. A little time might cool everyone's heads, hers included.
"I know it hurts, Juhani," Mission said sadly. "If you wanna talk about Taris, I'll listen."
"Thank you," said Juhani sheepishly. "Perhaps grief shared with be grief halved."
Zaalbar let out a low, sad sound of assent and hugged Juhani very gently. The Cathar woman seemed a little confused at the gesture, but thanked him for it before silence fell again among them.
Reaching the end of the spaceport's path stood a large wooden door and two bored-looking Czerka guards. As they approached, one put out his hand.
"Hold here, spacer. Czerka Corporation doesn't recommend traveling in wild Edean. The Katarn attacks are especially bad right now. Wookiee hunters usually keep the numbers down, but I think they leave certain areas infested, hoping some human gets killed."
"Interesting," Kairi said. "What do you know about the Wookiees?"
"Well, you're the Wookiee-lover. You tell me. I'm sure you're real close friends..."
Zaalbar let out a growl of indignant rage. Mission crossed her arms. "You tell 'em, Big Z."
"Keep your pets on a leash, lady, or you'll be wearing them! I've no love for those animals. I've seen them rip a guard to shreds."
"So," Juhani said. "They are fighting back?"
"What? You a bunch of anti-slavers? Here's the deal - any Czerka employee gets hurt or killed by a Wookiee, we take ten extra. The animals stay in line, and we don't have to raise the quota."
"I think I'm looking at the animals," Kairi grumbled under her breath. All her instincts and the empathic feedback she was getting - her party's rage and disgust, and the cruel mocking of the guards - all of it. Damn, she wanted to step forward and shout at them, protest their casual indifference to the suffering around them. How could they just stand there and not notice it?
There is no passion...there is serenity...Force help me... Bastila seemed to sense her faltering and narrowed her eyes. Kairi could feel Bastila adding her own strength to the empathic shields, mercifully dimming the emotional noise around her.
"When the Wookiees rip your heads off," said the second guard, laughing as he drew another drag on his cigarra. "We'll fish them out of the Shadowlands and give them a proper burial. How about that?"
"You needn't bother," Bastila said icily. "Goodbye."
