Author´s note: Wow, thanks for the positive feedback everyone! I just hope I´ll be able to maintain the quality of my little story.
Sorry, I didn´t realise I was blocking anonymous reviews. Many thanks to snackfiend101 for pointing it out.
And sanitycloud10: Sorry, but I don´t think Canderous will be showing up. I figure in anything other than a game a mere mortal doesn´t stand a chance against a Jedi, no matter how cool. And given Keena´s opinion of Mandalorians and Dark Side issues . . . well, let´s just say than when Candy made some inevitable smartass comment or another his fans wouldn´t like the consequences. And neither would Canderous. :)
Kosiah: Thanks for the help and comments. As for Carth´s marital status, or lack thereof, the answer is very simple, but you´ll find out soon enough.
Anyway, here´s chapter six. Let me know what you think.
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The doors on the small transport slid open and the sight of Brim City greeted Keena as she stepped out.
A mixture of beat up colony buildings, many of them converted into something else, freshly built casinos, cantinas and hotels, and storage houses. The kind of streets one gets when there is no official waste management, although some of the richer places hired people to clean up in their immediate area. And the people: A motley sea of grungy thugs, merchants, spacers, crooks, hobos, and those who judging by their clothes and bodyguards were either nobles or crime lords. Or both.
The soldiers who had come down on shore leave came out one by one, splitting into small groups and going their seperate ways.
Kel Hew, a male Zabrak barely out of his teens, stopped and turned towards her.
´´Are you going to be alright all by yourself out here?´´
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When she finally left the room given to her yesterday (after a nap and a long, hot shower), Keena wandered around the ship to clear her mind.
That was the plan anyway, until she found herself being constantly approached by various crewmembers, all insisting on shaking her hand and inviting her to various social interactions as soon as their shift ended. Mission and Zaalbar, apparently, had made a lot of friends on board. Damn it all.
In the three years following the Storm she´d managed to keep her interactions with other sentients at a minimum. Part of it had of course been the fact that if she couldn´t trust the friends she´d gone through fire and brimstone with, who could she trust? How could she ever let her guard down? However, in her more introspective and honest moments, she recognized that a good portion of it was a need for isolation. For . . . punishment. She´d been completely blind to the growing infection in her friends . . . and herself. She´d let Revan get in her head and make her doubt and question everything she´d held dear. She´d . . .
She´d let Eskon down, although she hadn´t known how badly at the time.
No-one she met during those years knew that, of course. Still, Keena couldn´t shake the feeling that on some level they did. That her failure and corruption was on some level detectable, like a subtle but upleasant odour. She´d gotten used to being by herself.
The year of total isolation, with only the unpleasant company of her own inner voices, had cemented her need for solitude.
And now she was on a capital ship full of people who wanted to talk to her. Keena´s need for a pleasant outer appearance and a certain sense of propriety she´d never been able to fully shake kept her from forcefully rebutting these people, but she wondered how long she could keep it up.
So she went to the most secluded and empty part of the ship her civilian status allowed her, which turned out to be a reserve escape pod area, intended for an emergency in which some or all of the primary pods were destroyed.
She sat down heavily in a corner. Simply retreating back to the bunk would in some weird way have felt like defeat.
What to do? There was of course the option of taking Carth up on his offer and float along with his fleet. Eventually there would be fighting and there was the, ever so slim, possibility of her encountering Eskon.
And then what are you going to do? In the middle of a battle between the Sith and Republic? Apologize for leaving his mangled hide behind with the two monsters? Throw your arms around him and say it´s good to see him again? Or, just for laughs, try to talk him out of doing what he´s doing? You, of all people preaching about the merits of the Light Side? Ha! Might as well start dancing and singing for all the good it´ll do. Face it: You have no idea what you´re doing!
Then Kel had shown up, doing a routine checkup on the escape pods. He´d recognized her and, of course, shook her hand and invited her to share a table with him and his friends during lunch. Bloody hell.
The dining area, full of talking people as it was, felt claustophopic and stifling, with the din of dosens of conversations turning into a chaotic jumble she couldn´t filter through.
Kel and his friends had, of course, told her war stories and described Mission´s escapades, into which she unfailingly dragged Zaalbar, talked about their lives back home and anything else that came to mind. Inevitably the subject turned to Revan. Revan and the way she´d found the strength to reject the Dark Side and her position as Dark Lord and saved the Republic, cut the feet under the Sith war effort and brought new hope to the fight.
Keena had surprised herself by holding out through the whole thing, calmly excusing herself from the table at the end of the lunch hour and making it back to her bunk without throwing lightning bolts at random people.
She was not going to hold out. Aside from the scratchy, irritating noice voices had become for her, looking at all these young faces in Republic unifroms all she could think about was the war. She´d mingled with the soldiers on board of the Storm to earn their trust, she´d fought with every ounce of strength in her body and soul, never allowed herself a break, killed and bled with ´´For the Jedi and the Republic´´ on her lips. She´d even, without knowing it at the time, tried to talk Revan from the path she´d chosen.
And Eskon, of course, had done so much more. And what was their reward? How did the Universe reward their efforts and sacrifices?
She´d felt the Force boiling within her, storming, begging for violent release.
Keena had settled for beating her fists into the mattress until she couldn´t lift her arms anymore.
Finally she´d crawled exhausted under the blanket and lain there in quiet, simmering anger. The injustice of it all burned.
She would have to make her own justice.
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Keena met Kel´s wide-eyed, innocent gaze, slightly amused by his concern. She wondered if he´d ever faced a charging squad of Mandalorian savages in heavy armor and sporting ludicrously oversized blasters.
´´I think I´ll manage Kel, thank you. But it´s still nice to know I can turn to you for protection.´´ That last comment actually made her laugh, but she managed to disguise it as a cough.
Without further ado she walked off into the grimy sea of Brim´s scummy residents. She had work to do.
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With all her worldly possessions either on her body or in the backpack and with the rifle slung over her shoulder she had nothing to fear from pickpockets, and anyone making a grab for the bag or Keena´s person would be easily dealt with, so she walked confidently and swiftly down Brim City´s streets.
Unfortunately she´d been here often enough to know her way around, and anyway the steadily more dangerous and grimy appearance of the citizenry told her she was heading the right way.
All too soon she was standing at the entrance of The Black Boot, Brim´s most disreputable cantina. It was where the low-level thugs and hired bullies came in between jobs and leg breaking to either drink away their credits, start a fight, settle a score, or plan tomorrow´s leg breaking.
Pol Svikari could be found here during most of his free time. He claimed to like the ambiance.
Given that Pol had official bounties on his head in just about every civilized part of the galaxy it was unlikely that he had moved his base of operations away from Brim during the last year, and, no matter how much Keena disliked it, he was her best shot.
She took a deep breath and stepped through the doors.
Not much had changed. Gamorreans, Rodians, Aqualish and Trandoshans, doing nothing to dispel the stereotypes of their species, were noticeably numerous. Of course there was quite a lot of humans as well. The bartender´s bodyguard droid had seen a few more repairs and the girls dancing behind the blaster-proof force field were different. Otherwise The Black Boot was exactly the same.
Pol was at his usual spot, a table up on the balcony. On her way up a drunken gangster tried to engage her, but suddenly found himself more interested in going back to his drink.
Pol hadn´t changed either. Brown hair graying at the temples. Six gangly feet tall. Apparently shabby, poorly maintained clothing Keena knew was actually a cleverly disguised, sophisticated Echani armor. Custom built blaster at his hip. And those small, calculating eyes, with crow´s feet and heavy eyebrows.
Keena pulled up a chair at the table and sat down.
´´Hello Pol.´´
Those mean little eyes widened as much as they ever did. Keena felt his surprise at her reappearance. Surprise and . . . something else. She had no special desire to know what and withdrew her Force senses.
´´Keena? Well . . . how about that? Back from the dead? You went off the radar so fast everyone had written you off.´´
´´Not dead Pol. Just busy. And I´m here for a reason.´´ She kept her voice curt and business-like, like she´d always done when around him. And did her best to ignore the slimy voice accompanying the slimy eyes. At least the slimy hands kept to themselves.
´´Oh? Why is that?´´ He grinned lazily and his long, thin fingers tapped the rim of his glass.
Well, you little puke, I got some things to take care of, but first I need some schmuck to get me the stuff I need for it.
´´I need a few things, fast, and you´re the one to get it for me. I know you know every fence and dealer on this planet.´´
´´That I do, Keen. Whatcha need?
Keena handed him a datapad she aquired aboard the Retaliator. He ran his eyes over it.
´´Well, I can get you some of this pretty quick. Some might take a little longer. You got the credits?´´
´´I will soon enough.´´
´´Heh. Of course. You always were . . . resourceful. Anything else?´´
´´A "kit".´´ she said, referring to the set of gadgets needed to hack into a ship´s security system, change its identity code and so on. Extremely illegal, of course
The grin stretched wider, revealing quite a lot of flesh.
´´Gotten tired of that old bucket you fly around? You know, the Blue Wing has a copilots chair . . .´´
´´Oh, good. Then you have somewhere to put your feet up on those long, lonely flights. A kit, Pol.´´
He laughed. ´´Sure kid. Can´t blame a guy for hoping. I´ll get back to you when I have something. You got a communicator?´´
´´No. Just come and meet me at the . . .´´ Keena scanned her memory for a reasonably priced but inhabitable hotel. ´´. . . The Friendly Tach.´´
´´Will do.´´ Keena got up and made her way down the stairs.
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Despite everything Pol Svikari had a reputation for coming through for people willing to part with their credits, except of course if someone with more credits didn´t want him to. Although she had no fear of him, Keena figured it would be a whole lot smoother to actually pay him than not.
It was an easy feat to pickpocket some credits off a drunken Rodian. Even easier to find a dice game in a casino. And with a little help from the Force, winning over and over again was a breeze.
A couple of hours after leaving The Black Boot Keena was significantly richer. She couldn´t help but wonder what her old Master would have thought of such a use of the Force. Well, no, she didn´t need to wonder. She knew damn well what he would have said.
Keena cut off that particular line of thought as she stepped out of the casino. Too painful.
A Republic shuttle flew overhead, towards the landing site the soldiers used.
Another group of off duty soldiers? So soon?
Keena took to an alley, looked around for witnesses, and jumped twenty feet onto the roof. She landed silently, eyes darting around. The roof was empty but she somehow felt observed. For the last four years she´d worked hard to keep her powers a secret. Somehow blowing her cover in an act of curiosity seemed like a very embarrasing prospect.
Neither her physical senses or use of the Force revealed anything however. Must be nerves.
Pull yourself together.
She detached the scope of the blaster rifle and looked through it towards the landing site.
The small shuttle landed perfectly and the ramp lowered to admit three familiar faces to emerge.
Carth Onasi, Mission Vao, and Zaalbar son of Freyyr.
What was a general and a pair of hired scouts doing down on Brim? Given Carth´s suspicion of an impending attack by Eskon´s forces, for him to take a day off seemed unlikely at best.
Did they see through me? I didn´t exactly have time to construct a foolproof persona. Did Mission notice my uses of the Force back on J-3109? Did they contact the council and get sent a picture of me during my padawan days? Are even now Jedi on the way to . . . what? Apprehend me? Interrogate me on my involvement with the Sith war? Bring me back into the fold whether I want them to or not, like Revan? I will NOT bow down to the scrutiny of the masters . . .
Keena shook her head. Paranoia and pondering had their time and place.
She reflected briefly that while the uncontrolled burst of emotion, fear and suspicion in particular, didn´t bother her, it once would have. And that it didn´t now . . . that´s what bothered her.
The trio disappeared from her field of vision, spurring Keena into motion. She would have to find out if they were on to her or not. Know if she would have to dodge Jedi and Republic soldiers in addition to everything else.
She moved swiftly to the edge of the rooftop. She stopped just short of leaping down, the tension still in her legs. The feeling was back. A vague, but undeniable feeling of being watched.
Her eyes carefully scanned the nearby buildings. Nothing. She would have sensed someone hidden by a stealth field. Her force senses, like before, picked up nothing.
Damn it, what´s going on?
Keena let herself drop, and ran into the street, going where she suspected Carth, Mission and Zaalbar were going.
As she mingled into the motley crowds the feeling vanished. Her sense of unease did not.
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Keena´s hunch proved right. The three where headed to the part of Brim city´s downtown favored by the Republic soldiers. Relatively trouble-free (by Brim standards), but still with some interesting stops.
It was a simple matter to walk around the cantinas and various entertainment businesses (although Keena doubted Mission would be interested in entering Hark´s House of Negotiable Affection), and scan for their presence.
The process was slowed somewhat by Keena´s efforts to hide her own Force presence, but she eventually found them at Tully´s, a relatively wholesome cantina/diner.
There was some amount of Republic soldiers around the area, but Keena kept the hood of her cloak up in case someone from the Retaliator might recognise her. Dropping it would of course have answered the question of whether an alarm had gone up about her disguise, but she decided on the subtler approach for now.
She walked up to the door and risked a look inside. Tully´s was dimly lit but she spotted a shape that could only belong to a Wookiee.
They were sitting in a shadowed corner, with a bit of space between themselves and the rest of the patrons. Mission and Zaalbar were sitting opposite Carth, who was casually dressed and keeping an eye on the room.
Keena wrapped her nondescript cloak around herself, walked in when Carth wasn´t looking and made for a shadow by the bar.
She sat down and ordered a drink, being careful to keep her voice down. She then glanced over her shoulder to make sure there was a clear, straight line between herself and the three before putting a tiny receiver in her ear. A small directional microphone held in one hand and pointed towards them allowed her to listen in without getting too close. The matching pair was a relic from her smuggling days that she´d kept in her backpack on J-3109 in case she´d need spare parts to repair the rifle.
´´. . . well Carth, where are they?´´
´´Relax Mission. They said they might be onto something and could be delayed, and you know why we can´t use communicators.´´
´´Yeah, yeah, I know. I´m just a little uncomfortable being out in the open if you´re right about this.´´
´´Hey, I´m just going on what I´m told.´´
Zaalbar growled something Keena didn´t quite catch. Whatever it was Carth and Mission agreed.
´´But how long are we going to sit around here, the fleet, that is?´´ asked Mission. ´´Everyone agrees Eskon´s up to something, or looking for someone or something. Whatever it is it can´t be good for the Republic. Are we just going to sit by and let him do his thing, or are we going to go kick his butt?´´
Carth sighed. ´´I know what you mean, Mission. I don´t like this sitting around any more than you do. But Eskon´s got a sizable fleet, more than a match for us if we´re not careful. We can´t just charge ahead turbolazers blazing. And if our . . . undercover people are right he might have people watching us. Maybe even from the inside. I for one am not itching to go into battle while worrying about assassins and saboteurs.´´
´´ I know, I know, I know. I´m just . . . I´m just uneasy about him sitting nice and quiet and plotting strategies and gathering forces and inventing new Force powers, like . . . I don´t know, "Force Rectal Disembowelment" or something.´´
Zaalbar rumbled.
´´Well, if it´ll put you two a little at ease;´´ Carth lowered his voice and the state-of-the-art microphone barely picked it up. ´´I got a secret, encoded message from the Jedi Council yesterday. Bastila´s coming here.´´
Bastila Shan is coming here? The fleet-kicker herself? I´m sure Eskon would be flattered to know.
´´Princess is coming? Wow, great! I haven´t seen her in ages!´´
´´Two months, Mission. And uh, do try to keep it a secret.´´
´´I know, you fussy old geezer, that´s why I used her codename!´´
´´Codename? Heh, I´m sure she´ll be delighted to hear that. That or put your jaw in stasis.´´
´´Nah. I´ll just tell her it was your idea and she´ll put . . . something else . . . in stasis.´´
Carth and Zaalbar laughed.
Keena could remember sitting around with Revan and the rest, during what quiet moments the war allowed. Talking, joking and laughing as much as Jedi padawans did. It seemed strange that the best memories of her life were inevitably connected with the worst.
She sighed and took a gulp of her drink. While the little snippets of information she was getting were nice they only seemed to create more questions. Just what was Eskon up to? What had the "undercover people" found? How long before all out war? Were they onto her or not? And what made this whole thing important enough for the Council to dispatch Bastila?
There were a few moments of silence as everyone turned their attention to what they´d ordered.
Then Mission: ´´Say, has either one of you seen Annie? I haven´t seen her since we got back.´´
Keena took an easier breath.
´´Hm? No, but I saw her name on the list of the last off-duty people coming down to the surface. Presumably she´s still around. Why?´´
´´No reason, just wanna see her again.´´
´´You two becoming fast friends?´´
´´Well, maybe not quite yet, but I´d like to.´´
She wants to be friends?
Keena tried to come up with some bitter, acid-drenched inner response to that but couldn´t find one. For a moment her shoulders slumped and she just felt terribly tired. And terribly alone. Anger and loneliness were oh, so very draining emotions to live by.
´´I mean, she did . . . save our lives. I may not be a Wookie . . .´´
Zaalbar chuckled, rubbed the top off Mission´s head and said she was Wookie enough.
´´Hey, stop that! Like I was saying I may not be a Wookie, but that´s not something I take lightly. Know what I mean?´´
´´Yeah, I do. I´ve seen a lot of warfare, Mission. It draws out the worst in people . . . but there are also moments when it brings out the best, such as risking one´s life for a complete stranger. War is strange like that.´´
It certainly is. Strange and horrible. A bloodthirsty, rat-bastard of a warlord to a bunch of savages decides to start a gigantic pissing contest with the entire galaxy, and it leads to the strangest side effects. Like maybe a young padawan taking on more than she´s trained to handle and turn into a sad, lonely, self-exile determined not to belong anywhere. And why?
She found herself standing up and turning towards their table.
´´Convenient she crashed on that exact planet, isn´t it?´´ Carth said after a short silence. ´´In the exact area you landed in a year later . . . What are the odds of that?´´
Mission sighed with amused exasperation. ´´What, you think the Sith planned the whole thing to get a spy into our midst? Oh, come on. Don´t tell me Carth Everyone´s-Got-An-Agenda Onasi is making a comeback. Please?´´
Carth´s face was neutral for a moment, then he smiled. ´´Nah, I´m just letting my mouth run. Old habits I guess.´´
´´Right. And anyway, it was probably, y´know, the Force or something. Like when you, Bastila and Tana where the only ones to get off the Endar Spire.´´
Oh, right. THAT´S why. "Tana." The bitch who betrayed me, who betrayed us all. And who got a clean slate as a gift from the Jedi, who is a HERO to the Republic! THAT´S WHY!
Keena felt the familiar anger flare. She welcomed it.
Feed it. Love it. It´s better than the pain.
The three of them kept talking. Keena pulled the receiver out of her ear, pocketed it and the microphone and drained the remains of her drink. Enough of this. Time to get the info she wanted and get on with things.
She took a few moments to mask her emotions, to create the surface of an easygoing, unemployed scout named Anna Kolm.
She walked over to the table.
´´Oh, hey you guys.´´
Carth helloed, Zaalbar growled a greeting and Mission beamed.
´´Anna, hi! I was just wondering where you were at! Watcha been up to?´´
No reason not to tell the truth.
´´Hitting the casinos. What can I say: I have a vice.´´ She was getting real good at smiling convincingly.
´´A vice? Hah! Hang around Zaalbar for a while. If he were stuck on a desolate planet he´d eat his own foot within the day.´´
Zaalbar barked an indignant reply.
´´Mind if I sit down?´´
´´Oh, sure, sure, go ahead.´´
Keena did.
´´So what brings you three down here among the common folk?´´ she asked jokingly, getting the now-expected embarassed reaction from Mission.
Carth put up a casual front; one that would have been quite effective on anyone untrained in the ways of the Force.
´´Oh, we´re just waiting for some friends of ours. Stick around, I´ll introduce you.´´
Suddenly something poked through Keena´s self imposed restrictions in Force sensitivity. A strong Force presence. No, two. Real close.
´´Say, Carth, that reminds me,´´ Mission piped in, ´´when´s "Princess" coming.´´
Keena knew the answer before Carth glanced towards the door and smiled.
´´Right now.´´
Keena looked herself. Two hooded and robed figures had just entered.
