6: Well Met in LowCity
The dream.
Bastila knew it was a dream; she'd had it enough times. But she couldn't escape the feel as her muscles shuddered under the clash of lightsabers. Darth Revan drove her back, and hurled her to the deck with a savage blow that jarred her golden lightsaber from her hands.
Jana dashed in, blocking Revan's next strike with her own blade. Revan snarled in fury and kicked young Jana in her face. As Jana stumbled back, Revan opened her belly with a cross slash. Reeno screamed as his sister dropped to her knees, intestines spilling across the deck. Revan whirled on him and thrust forth an open palm. Reeno was blasted from his feet by an unseen gust of Force energy. He slammed hard against the deck and lay still.
"Why do you resist, Bastila?" Revan growled. "Fighting me is futile! Our destiny awaits us! Join me!"
"Never!" Bastila cried, sitting upright.
She glanced around, heart pounding wildly. She lay in an unknown bed in a place she did not know. She struggled to control her heartbeat with a breathing exercise, and closed her eyes. When she opened them, she extended outward with her senses. A large number of young men and women cavorted happily in rooms beyond hers. They were at ease, relaxed; but excited at the same time. Some sort of party, she suspected. Briefly, she wondered if she was still in the custody of those violent thugs calling themselves the Black Vulkars.
But then, she sensed Carth Onasi's presence among them. He did not participate in the celebration, but sat apart, his sobered thoughts dwelling on something…something that felt very familiar…
Bastila threw the sheets from her body and swung her bare legs over the edge of the bed. A glass of water waited for her on a table. She drew it towards her with her will, and it zipped into her hand. It scraped away the dryness caking her lips and throat. Bastila drained the entire glass with a gasp and breathed in deeply.
She also noticed her lightsaber sitting on the table as well. But the Vulkars' leader, Brejik had taken it. How had it arrived here?
Bastila stood and took her lightsaber. It felt warm and comfortable in her grasp. Confidence surged through her body, and she glanced around for some sort of clothing. Nothing presented itself to her, however. Annoyance chewed at her thoughts as she wrapped the sheet around her. It wouldn't do for her to go trouncing about in her underwear, after all.
With her weapon in hand, she stepped out of the room and locked onto Carth's presence. In the corridor outside her room, she very nearly bumped into a young Zabrak girl carrying a bundle of dun colored clothes.
"Oh!" the girl cried in surprise. "I didn't know you were awake. Gadon told me to bring you something to wear. I don't know if this stuff'll fit you, but it's better than running around in your panties, right?"
"Er…yes. Yes of course." Bastila took the bundle of clothes and hoped they weren't anything like the positively scandalous outfit the girl wore. Bastila held the long tabard across her body, examining it. It covered her modestly enough, she supposed. Though it left her legs bare…"Er…excuse me, perhaps you could tell me…exactly where am I?"
"Oh yeah," the girl grinned. "You're with the Beks. We totally rescued you from Brejik! You're safe with us. No worries."
"Rescued," Bastila murmured sourly. "Brilliant. Um, fine then. Uh…could you…I'd like to speak with Captain Onasi if you please."
"Who? Do you mean that dreamboat Lal brought in? He's a complete honey, even though he's older than dirt. No problem. I'll go get him for you…"
"Wait!" Bastila cried, feeling her blood run cold. "What did you say?"
"Carth," the girl clarified. "He's cute is all I was saying. Are you two, like…y'know…together?"
"No, you said a name…Lal?"
"Yeah. Lal Sideen. She's a friend."
"Oh. Oh. Nevermind then." Bastila's mind whirled. It couldn't be…could it? She supposed it was a common enough name. But still, rather a strange coincidence. "I mean… Carth, yes. I'd like to see him. If you could send him 'round, I'd appreciate it."
Carth knocked at Bastila's door and heard her beckon him inside. He stepped in as the door slid open, and saw her struggling into a pair of tall boots that came up past her thighs. He smiled at her and propped his hip on a nearby table.
"You don't know how glad I am to see you, Bastila," he sighed.
"Captain Onasi," she said sharply, reaching up to pin her loose hair up. "I would appreciate a report on what has occurred. Obviously, I have been…indisposed. Ahem."
"Ah…right. Well, let's see. You recall anything about the Endar Spire?"
She waved her hand in annoyance. "Of course, Captain. My memory is intact."
"Right. Well, you got captured by a gang of thugs called the Black Vulkars. I tried to fight them, but they had me outnumbered. I got some assistance to rescue you, though. A rival gang called the Hidden Beks. They're essentially the good guys. They're willing to help us hide from the Sith. Speaking of, I'm pretty sure the Sith have brought the Leviathan into orbit. They've got a planet-wide blockade in effect and have patrols scouring the streets for you."
"I see. Did anyone else from the Endar Spire survive, Captain?"
Carth folded his arms across his chest and shook his head gravely. "They started targeting the escape pods. We're the only ones who made it, Bastila."
Bastila's mouth fell open and her eyes fluttered in disbelief for a few moments. She struggled to regain her composure before Carth, but his words hammered into her. The only ones who made it…
"I…see," she murmured softly, thinking about the Jedi she'd known on the Spire. Those sent to help her; those who had become friends…Bastila forced herself to remember her training. She could not allow this news to deter her from her mission.
"Indeed," she said, struggling to keep her voice even and calm. "I estimate I've been out of commission for roughly a week…Is the mission in jeopardy, Captain Onasi?"
He chuckled bitterly and shook his head. "Yeah, Bastila. I'd say, at a guess, mind you, yeah. It is. It hasn't been officially compromised. But I don't see much chance for success. The Sith are crawling all over the place. Even if we could complete this secret mission of yours, I don't see how we could escape."
"I see, Captain. I'd like to remind you of protocol. Please refer to me as 'Commander' or 'Commander Shan', if you would."
Carth rolled his eyes and stood up straight. "Right. Listen, Commander, it's like this: our survival depends heavily on secrecy and stealth. If I go around referring to you as commander and if you go around referring to me as captain, then very soon someone's gonna be clued in to the fact we're military. And since neither of us looks like Sith, that means it's gonna be assumed--"
She berated herself for being stupid. Of course he was right. "I see your point, Captain. I mean…Carth. Of course you're correct. I'm…still a bit confused from my ordeal. Well then. Now that I'm in command, we're going to be doing things a bit differently. Our first priority, of course is completing our mission. Have you been briefed about the specifics, Cap—er, Carth?"
"Briefed? Not exactly, Bastila. All the other Jedi perished aboard the Spire before they could brief me, I'm afraid…"
"Er…of course. What I meant was…oh nevermind. I'll fill you in as best as I can. Our second priority is to secure transport off this planet and back to Dantooine. You say the Sith have placed an orbital blockade around Taris? That could present a problem."
"Yeah. It might."
Bastila glanced sharply at him. "Captain, forgive me, but I don't think you're treating this situation with the seriousness it is due."
"Quite the contrary," he sighed. "Look…I realize you've been given authority on this mission, and I'm fine with that. However…I think you should consider the…very strong possibility that we may have to cut our losses and make a run for it. The Sith know that you are here. You're too damned valuable to the Republic. If they get their hands on you, our fight might as well be over. To be honest, I don't even know why the Council decided to send you on this mission."
"Of course, I welcome any suggestions you wish to make, Carth. But this mission is of utmost importance to the Jedi Council. And to the Republic."
"Alright, Bastila. I'm all ears."
"Very good. First of all, what can you tell me about this 'Lal' individual?"
"Lal Sideen. Well, first of all; if you ever have to go into a fight against a Rancor, she's the one person in the galaxy you want to have with you. Second of all; she looks damned nice in a skirt…"
Lal had been awake for some time now, but didn't have the energy to actually sit up. Besides which, Mission had fallen asleep across the lower half of Lal's bed, and she didn't feel like waking the girl up. So Lal just settled her head back against her pillow and stared up at the ceiling. She couldn't sleep anyway. Not with her shoulder throbbing. Pain meds had faded away. And she could feel every inch of the hole in her arm. Not to mention her side still ached. Then there were the burns on her hands, and various assorted scrapes and bruises…
For someone who never stuck her neck out for others, Lal was racking up a respectable amount of injuries.
But perhaps now, all that nonsense was over and done with. Ostensibly, Carth had his Bastila back, and they could go off and quite merrily perform whatever damn fool quest they'd come to Taris to do. The Vulkars were no longer a threat, and Brejik had paid with his life for what he had done to Selli. Now, all she really had to do was figure a way out of this mess with Davik.
She hated the thought that he wanted her dead. After all she had done to help him, she could scarcely believe it. But Canderous had no reason to lie to her. Did he? That was not the Mandalorian's way. She supposed he could have been deceiving her in some manner; trying to be an ally so she'd lower her guard when the time came to kill her. But that seemed overly elaborate for him. That was more Lal's style instead of Ordo's. She didn't know if she bought his whole call to glory bit.
But the man knew a surprising amount of information about Lal's side operation. And of course, he had been completely right. While she had no intention of interfering with Davik's comfy little set-up on Taris, Lal was well and truly tired of serving others. Davik had a good set-up with the Exchange; he was more than content to be a member of their Old Boy Network. Lal craved independence, though. And she figured she had the guts to do it.
She had a number of people loyal to her here on Taris, and a few scattered on a handful of planets across the Rim. And she had business prospects; men who confused fiscal sense with their desire for her. Lal figured that, given enough time, she could carve out a nice little living for herself on some world, maybe Tatooine or some place similar. And from there, the sky was the limit.
But to do this, to escape Taris's nightmares, she had to get off the planet. She had to get away from Davik. However, with the Sith fleet hanging over her head, she didn't see how that was exactly possible. Maybe she would have another chat with Canderous. Maybe he had some thoughts on the matter.
The door to her room hissed open and Zaalbar trundled in. he cradled a steaming bowl in his paw; probably soup. Smelled good. In his other paw, he carried a glass of water. He grunted his greetings at her and she smiled. He sat the bowl and glass down on a table beside her bed. He glanced down at Mission fondly as she slept, and he softly whuffed.
Lal nodded her head. "I know. Yeah, you were right. But don't give me a hard time about it, hmm?"
He told her to eat her soup.
"Giving orders, now, are we?" she chuckled, reaching for the bowl. She had to sit up, though and Mission stirred sleepily.
"Wuzzat?" Mission grunted, sitting up. "Ow! Cramp…"
Lal took a sip of her soup and nodded. "Not bad. No, don't tell me what's in it. I don't want to know. But Zaalbar, could you be a fuzzy dear and get me a Tarisian Ale? And some meelee sauce?"
He shook his shaggy head.
"What, is it dinnertime?" Mission asked, rubbing sleep out of her eyes.
"You haven't eaten anything, Mission?" Lal asked.
"Nah…I guess I fell asleep. Duh. I just wanted to be here if you needed anything…"
"Mission, I swear. You're bloody-well turning me into an old woman."
Mission rubbed at her spine and cocked her head curiously at Lal. "Huh?"
"Nevermind," Lal said. She handed Mission the bowl and went on, "we'll share."
"No, I completely need something solid, Lal…maybe a salad…"
"Sounds good to me," Lal said. "Except for the salad part. Hey, since you're all uninjured and healthy, why don't you pop 'round Lien Lumb's for some Lan oodah?"
Zaalbar barked an admonition and shook his head defiantly. He pointed a claw at Lal and chewed out a string of grunts. Lal sighed and sat back as Mission sipped at the soup.
"I don't see why a blaster wound should keep me from eating anything spicy," Lal told him.
Zaalbar growled out an further bit of explanation and lowered his eyes.
Lal frowned at his words. "Lien's been arrested? Those damned Sith! What, do they believe just because he's an alien that he's a Republic sympathizer? Damn it!"
Just then, there was a knock at the door. Carth poked his head in tentatively. "Did I come at a bad time?"
"Technically," Lal told him.
"Okay. I'll come back later…"
"No, Carth," Lal sighed. "That's not what I meant…come on in. Everyone else has." Lal pulled her sheets up close to her chest and leaned back against the headboard of the bed.
Carth sat down on the edge of the bed and smiled down at Lal. "Anybody ever tell you you're amazing?"
"Ummm, yes. But no one whose opinion mattered to me."
"And my opinion finally matters to you, then?" he chuckled.
"I wouldn't go so far as that," she grinned back.
"I see. And I seem to recall a promise to negotiate for a kiss…"
"I don't recall any such bargain," she shrugged innocently. "Besides which, not in front of the Wookiee."
Zaalbar howled out a chuckle and shook his head.
Mission nodded in agreement with the Wookiee. "Yeah," she said, "why don't the two of you just mate and get it done with? Humans are so…complex…"
"It's called flirting, Mission," Lal said.
"Oh I know all about flirting," Mission said with a blush. "That's about all I do know about…"
Carth smiled at the Twi'lek. "Don't worry, Mission. I'm sure you'll find some nice Twi'lek guy out there who will be more than willing to worship you."
"Worship," Mission mused. "Yeah. I could get used to that…"
Lal grinned and watched them banter and joke for a few minutes. It felt comfortable. It felt good to have friends, she decided. Even something…something rather more in Carth Onasi. In another time and place, she was sure they'd be doing more than the occasional flirting back and forth.
"So Carth," she finally said, "How is your friend doing?"
Carth's smile faded and he ran a hand through his hair. "Fine. She's up and around. Actually, she wants to meet you."
"Meet me? What for?"
Carth shrugged his shoulders. "She wouldn't say." Lal's smile disappeared, and she realized Carth was lying to her. She didn't know how she knew; perhaps she had simply learned to read his face when he spoke. She was good at that. Regardless, he was holding something back.
"Carth," she said softly, touching his arm. "What is it?"
"Nothing," he continued to lie. "Bastila just wants to meet you is all. She wanted me to ask if it was alright for her to stop in."
Lal frowned and glanced away. Now that she thought about it, she was more than a little curious about this Bastila woman. "You know what? I think I'll go see her. I feel like I've been asleep for a bloody week. Of course…I need my clothes…"
"Oh yeah," Mission said suddenly. "Your things were all burned and ripped. And filthy. We just threw them away…"
"How wonderful," Lal groaned. "So I have nothing to wear but my own kindness?"
"Well," Mission went on, "I was gonna go by your apartment to pick up some stuff for you…"
"No, that's a bad idea," Lal sighed. "Especially with the Sith arresting aliens. Besides, Davik's probably got someone watching my apartment. He'd have you picked up, in all likelihood."
"I'm sure the Beks have something you can wear," Carth told her. "Of course, I'm curious to see about that 'kindness' outfit you mentioned."
"You and every male on Taris," Lal said.
The only thing that managed to actually fit Lal's curves happened to be a skirt composed of Zeltronian sensor-mesh. It clung tightly to her, but it continually shifted to accommodate her every movement. It wasn't the most modest of outfits, having been designed for a Criblez courtesan. But it was easily as comfortable as her Slipsuit.
She knocked on Bastila's door and heard the woman bid her to come in. The door slid open and Lal stepped in. Bastila was performing some sort of slow moving combat form. Lal was familiar with this sort of thing. This form appeared to be a more meditative style. But she easily recognized the movements as lethal.
Bastila finished her form and released a deep breath. She turned to regard Lal curiously. Lal felt a cool tingle trickle down her spine as the young woman watched her. There was something about her eyes, the smooth cut of her face. It reminded Lal of something…or someone. But she couldn't quite place it.
"You are…Lal Sideen?" Bastila asked. She placed a strange inflection on Lal's name. As if she were testing the sound of it out.
"And you're Carth's friend. Bastila, right?"
"I am," she replied, continuing to stare at Lal. "Bastila Shan. I…I'm told…well, Carth told me…that I have you to thank for my lightsaber."
Lal's gaze flicked to the cylinder on the table beside the bed. A memory of the weapon flashing in Brejik's fist burned across her vision for a moment. "Yes…I figured…I figured it would be of some use to a Jedi Knight."
Bastila smiled tightly and nodded. She cocked her head thoughtfully at Lal, and then took up her lightsaber. "Are you familiar with the device?" she asked, handing it over to Lal.
Lal shook her head, but took it anyway. She thumbed the activation switch, and a golden shaft of energy hissed forth. It hummed and sang in her hand, shedding yellow light across the room. Lal noticed a second switch further down the cylinder and activated that as well. A second blade snapped out from the opposite end, surprising Lal.
"I've…seen them before, of course," Lal explained. "Never seen one with two blades. Isn't that rather a bit of overkill?" She closed down both blades and handed the weapon back to Bastila.
Bastila accepted the weapon and hooked it to her belt. "Not overkill. A Jedi does not carry weapons for their innate destructive potential. The lightsaber is a tool of defense. Not offense."
Lal chuckled. "Best defense is a good offense, though isn't it?"
Bastila arched an eyebrow and sat down on her bed. "I'm told that you're rather an influential personage on Taris; that you work for a…a gangster."
"You could say that," Lal nodded. "Or you could also say I'm an assassin and cutthroat cold-blooded witch."
"Ah. Fulfilling work is it?"
"Has its perks. Never a dull moment. And being a Jedi…is that an exciting job?"
"A Jedi does not crave excitement. And it's somewhat more of a calling than a job."
Lal nodded silently and folded her arms across her breasts. "Sounds like great fun. So you wanted to talk. Did you simply want to compare careers? Or was there another reason?"
"To be honest, Miss Sideen, I wanted very much to thank you for your…efforts…your…contribution to my, er…rescue. I understand this was done at great personal risk. I'm very grateful, of course. And…I wanted to meet you. I'm glad Carth was able to enlist your assistance. Carth is a capable man; a legendary soldier. But I fear, without your help, I'd still be in a stasis tube ready to be auctioned off to the highest bidder."
"Carth is a good man," Lal replied. "Good to have at your back in a fight."
"Oh, no argument there. But he is not a Jedi."
"Neither am I."
A strange little smile passed briefly across Bastila's lips. "No. I don't suppose that you are."
"Bastila, I don't mean to be rude," Lal sighed, "but is there a point to this?"
"I believe so. How long have you been here on Taris, Lal? About three years?"
"I…yes. That's right…"
"And," Bastila continued, "you have no memory of your life before that."
"I…what the bloody hell…? How did you know that?"
"Nothing sinister, I assure you. I am able to…sense certain things. To tell what a person is feeling or thinking. To sense if a person is lying or telling the truth."
"So you read minds," Lal growled. "Cute trick. A word to the wise; stay out of my head."
"Have you never questioned your life beyond Taris? What it might have been like? What you might have been?"
"Alright, listen," Lal snapped, "I did not come here to be the subject of some sort of…analysis. I trust you've satisfied your curiosity."
"Please don't go," Bastila called as Lal turned to leave. "I don't mean to insult you, Lal."
"I'm not insulted," Lal told her. "What I am is busy. So if you'll excuse me…"
"I need your help, Lal," Bastila said, rising to her feet. "Carth and I need your help."
"Don't you think I've helped enough?"
"More than either of us had any right to expect," Bastila admitted. "But in this, I believe our goals cross paths with your own. Lal, the Sith will tear this planet apart to get what they're looking for."
"So I've noticed already. I might add that they're looking for you."
Bastila lowered her eyes and nodded. "I cannot deny that. But should the Sith capture me, it will lead them to…to another. I cannot allow that to happen."
"Right…so, how do I come into this problem of yours?"
"Well, we require transportation off-world. To get past the blockade. I can sense that you too are in need of transport. That to stay here much longer would be dangerous for you."
Lal thought about denying it. But she knew that this girl could read her thoughts as easily as a datapad. "Didn't I warn you about doing that?"
"It's rather difficult to avoid when you're broadcasting your feelings like a beacon, Lal. It's not intentional. It's akin to standing naked in the middle of the street and then getting upset when someone glances at your body. I could teach you…some…techniques to guard your thoughts."
"I'll pass. Listen, this blockade has my hands tied. Assuming for a moment you have any insight into my motivations and plans…I don't have a ship that can make it past a Sith blockade. I have off-world contacts, but they'd probably get blasted out of the sky before they came within an AU of Taris."
Bastila nodded in thought. "Have you no other options at your disposal, then?"
"I didn't say that. But even if I do, why would I want to bring you and Carth along? Granted, I may like Carth well enough, but he's been nothing but trouble. And my suspicion is that you're twice the trouble he is. And I've got better things to do than get killed."
"You may not believe in the importance of our fight, Lal," Bastila said, "but sooner or later, you will be forced to take a side. It is the way of things. In times like these, we don't always have the luxury to walk the middle road."
"Please. Spare me the diatribe. On Taris, there are no roads but the middle ones. Right and wrong lose meaning here. And no matter who wins your war, things will be the same here. Why should I care who sits on some throne on Coruscant?"
"Amazing. You have within you the power to change things, Lal, and yet, you fail to recognize it. Does not even an evil man prefer to have good neighbors over evil neighbors?"
"Alright. It was nice meeting you, Bastila," Lal sighed, heading for the door. "I'd love to stay and chat with you…actually, no, I wouldn't. If you'll excuse me…"
"So you finally decided to talk to me," Canderous said between bites of food. "I knew you would."
Lal glanced at his leathery face and sighed. Then she returned her gaze to the plate of food before him. It was piled with dark rubbery chunks of meat which smelled like a dank pond. He speared each piece of meat hungrily with his fork and shoved it down his throat. He followed that rather sloppily with a wash of dark Mandalorian beer. And tossed out a belch every so often, mainly for effect.
"I take it talking with your mouth full is rather popular on Mandalore, hmm?" Lal pointed out, a pained frown wrinkling her brow. She leaned forward and took a whiff of his food. Her nose crinkled up at the sharp reek. "Eww. What is that you're shoveling down your throat?"
Canderous chuckled and wiped his sleeve across his mouth. He pointed with his fork to the squat Nautolan standing behind the bar, taking orders from customers. "See that chap there? He runs the place. For enough cred, he'll fry up a baby Nautolan for you. It's considered a delicacy."
Lal tried not to throw up at that. "Y-you mean to tell me…Canderous…you're eating a baby Nautolan?"
He shrugged. "It's an acquired taste, I admit…you should try some. It's really quite delicious…"
Lal covered her mouth and stared at the man in horror. "Canderous…th-that's…"
"Eh," he grinned widely at her distress. "Actually it's just shellfish, Lal. Heh. You know, you almost turned as green as that Nautolan over there. Heh."
Lal closed her eyes and shook her head. "So, that was what passes for a joke among Mandalorians? Very colorful, Canderous."
"Women across the galaxy are gullible." He tossed back another gulp from the beer bottle at his right and leaned back to stare at Lal. "Clothes. Heh. That's a different look for you."
Lal sighed and rolled her eyes. "You're never going to let that go, are you?"
"Well, it's our little secret, of course. But I see no reason not to torture you endlessly about it."
"Well," she growled ruefully, "aren't you just in a pleasant mood."
"Indeed. My belly is full. Things are looking up. And the great Lal Sideen has finally seen the wisdom of my words."
"Wisdom," she grunted dubiously. "Right." She set a tiny round object onto the table between them. Several red lights flickered on the surface of the little globe.
"White sound generator," Canderous noted, glancing at the object. "Very clever of you. And if I had any bugs or transmitters set up within thirty feet or so, it would be effective. But I do not."
"Can never be too careful."
"True."
Lal watched his face and sat back in her chair. She crossed her legs and narrowed her eyes into slits. "So, you wish to work for me."
"Quite."
"Mmm-hmm. So, I can match your current retainer right now. I can double it in perhaps a month, maybe two. But right now, I can't pay you any more than Davik can. Convince me why I should believe you're ready to come on board."
"Money serves a purpose," he told her. "But only a very gross one. It buys me food, and a roof to put over my head. And little more than that. I have, over my lifetime, acquired a substantial amount of money. More so than anyone suspects because I live simply. Plainly. Simply put, Lal, neither your money nor Davik's money is the bait upon which I will be hooked."
"Okay. Fine by me. So what do you think I can provide you that Davik cannot?"
He drained his beer and waved for the waiter to bring him another. "It's already become well known that you raced for the Beks. Your fight with Brejik is still being shown on the holo-vids. Glorious fight, Lal. Glorious. That is what I seek. To fight and to fight well. It may seem…bloodthirsty to you. Since you are not of the Blood of Mandalore, I doubt I could explain it to you better than I already have."
"Do try," she told him.
"Lal…we Mandalorians were born and bred to be superior in every way to other humans. We were born so from necessity. We fought and bled and killed to build one of the greatest empires ever known. Once, our influence spread across entire sectors. It was a constant challenge for my kind; to build the empire and to protect its borders. We are not a solitary people, Lal. Every man and woman and child is valued. We knew the importance of community. Everyone had a role to play. And so, when we fought enemies who threatened us, that community was always foremost in every warrior's thoughts. If I killed a man, it was because I knew that that man posed a threat to my brother. Or my sister. Or my son…or daughter…No Mandalorian ever fought without these thoughts driving him to victory. For the glory of the empire, and the honor of all.
"But that has changed," he went on, lighting a hand rolled Paagh stick and puffing on it. "Now, we are scattered to the solar winds. We have no glories, and our honor is forgotten."
"I…suppose I can…understand that…but I will not lie to you; honor…I have no honor, Canderous. Not the sort of honor you seek."
He inhaled a gout of smoke and released it through his nose. "Heh. Untrue, Lal Sideen. In a world of cutthroats and scum, you are the most honorable person I've met. To live honorably…to kill honorably…it is a challenge. It alone is an end to itself. I have watched you over the years. I have seen this to be so. Do not insult me by denying it. There is a…a greatness to you. To your actions. Something I have not felt since…well. Certainly not for a long time. I do not know what your ultimate destiny is, Lal Sideen. I know it will be great, however. And I know that fighting at your side will be…worthy of song…"
Lal nodded slowly, wondering exactly how to respond to that. She was pretty sure that Canderous Ordo was a madman. All this talk of destinies and glory was beyond her. She didn't know how to sound competent in such a discussion. Nor was she terribly interested in learning. But Canderous seemed fairly honest.
It may have been a mistake for her to think like that, but she was running out of options.
"Alright, Canderous," she said. "We'll try this out. I'm in charge. You do what I say. If you have a problem taking orders from a woman, let's hear it now, because I won't tolerate any dissention down the line."
"I have no problems following a woman's commands…as long as that woman is you."
"Canderous…you make it sound so dirty…"
He threw his head back and laughed. For a brief moment, when he threw out a deep belly laugh like that, he sounded like any normal person. But then, she recalled his talk of entrail-dancing, and she pushed that thought right out of her head. She waited for his laughter to die down before she went on.
"First order of business, Canderous: we need a way to get off the planet."
"Logical," he agreed, downing a gulp of beer. "Of course, Davik has been thinking much along the same lines. I reckon he's decided that working with the Sith would ultimately be futile."
"I figured as much. Davik's got an entire fleet grounded right now because of the blockade. It won't be long before he starts losing distributors."
Canderous smiled wickedly. "And that would set up a perfect opportunity for someone who was ready to take advantage of Davik's loss, hmm?"
"I don't know anything about that…" she said, glancing away. "Davik is in a sticky position because he has a number of ships he needs to worry about; the same plan probably wouldn't work for each vessel. If he was willing to sacrifice one or two ships so that the rest could get away in the confusion, that would be different. But he can't afford to. One ship would actually be easier to slip past the blockade."
"Perhaps. A fast ship. But there's a problem with that as well, Lal. The Sith are doing something I haven't seen since the war. Normally, when they blockade a planet, they simply move in a number of heavy cruisers and train their turbolaser batteries on anything that moves. But the Sith have deployed half a dozen automated orbital batteries. They're called Eradicator Batteries. There are no crews, no coordinations with the fleet. You don't have a fire control officer taking the time to gain fire permission from his commander. These beauties simply open fire on anything not broadcasting a code sequence. And these Eradicators can track, acquire and lock-on to a target a thousand times quicker than a capital gun-crew can. The Jedi warriors, Malak and his master, Revan used these devices almost exclusively at the end of the final skirmish. Since it's believed Malak is in command of the Sith now, he's probably the one who fielded the Eradicators."
"Canderous, how do you know about this? As far as I understood, there was a planet-wide information black-out about the specifics of the Sith forces."
"In ages past, the Mandalorians had favorable dealings with the Sith. There are still those among the Sith who remember those alliances. Which leads me to my next point: I know a man at the Sith base. Anticipating your need to get off the planet, I convinced him to make a copy of the code. He was going to deliver it to me, but unfortunately, he got himself beheaded. He was able to hide the code copy in a lower security buffer in the Sith mainframe. It does us no good, of course, unless we can get to it."
Lal folded her arms across her breasts. "I think I might know a way to get in."
"How's that?"
Lal glanced up at him and scowled. She still didn't trust him. "You let me worry about that. But even if we get the codes, there's still the problem of not having a ship. It needs to be fast. Faster than anything the Sith have got. Even if we defeat these Eradicator things, the fleet can still get a visual on us."
"Fast ship, you say?" Canderous mused, watching her face closely. "I believe I know where you are going with this. You have a devious mind, Lal Sideen. But that will be a challenge within itself. To steal the flagship of Davik Kang's smuggler fleet. No small task."
"I have some thoughts on the matter."
"Oh?"
She nodded. "I was thinking of asking nicely."
"Heh. The ship is locked down when not in use. He has moved the Ebon Hawk to the hangar in his estate. Getting in will be difficult."
"No, it actually won't," she told him. "Getting in will be as simple as sin. Getting back out will be the trick."
"Kee wa keen cuucca-Cheen!" Janice Nal cried happily when Lal stepped into her workshop.
"Janice," Lal smiled. "You remember Zaalbar?"
The Wookiee rumbled a greeting and Janice nodded. The Twi'lek flipped her lekku back over her shoulders rose from where she had crouched over the open chassis of an astromech droid. She tossed her hydrospanner into a toolbox and wiped her greasy hands on her pants legs.
Lal pretended to be interested in the rows of deactivated droids Janice sold out of her shop. Zaalbar gaped like a kid in a toy store, however. He drifted over to a broad cargo-lifter droid, and ran his claws over the droid's inert lifting arm.
"Nee wanna-wanga?" Janice asked Lal as she perused a tiny messenger droid.
Lal turned to face Janice. "Is he ready?"
Janice smiled and jerked her thumb towards the rear of her shop. She led Lal to the back and through a doorway into her storeroom. Janice continued chattering away in enthusiastic Huttese as she guided Lal through aisles of droid components. Six months ago, after coming into a bit of extra money, Lal had commissioned Janice to build her a custom droid, almost from scratch. It had been an exciting prospect for Janice who was a savant with droid systems and AI.
Janice gestured to a table which held a black metal frame. Locked within the frame rested the droid. It had no legs to speak of, and was shaped roughly like an egg laid flat. As they came near, the wide visual sensor plate on the droid's "head" swiveled up to watch them. Beside the wide blue sensor were three tiny red vid recorders.
"He's…on-line?" Lal asked. Janice nodded. She reached out to unlock the frame and the droid slowly floated up into the air. It rose up to Lal's height and unfolded eight spindly arms from the bottom. She glanced down and noted the various grasper claws, micro-welders, and mini-actuators hanging from the slender limbs. The droid reached up an actuator and used the delicate fingers to examine a curl of Lal's hair, hanging over her shoulder.
"Hey!" she said, pulling away from the curious droid. It snatched the probing fingers back and released a string of high pitched beeps and whistles. Atop its back a pair of flat repulsorlifts mini-drives flicked out almost like wings. It shot back away from her and zipped around to hide behind Janice. Lal rolled her eyes. "Oh he's bloody shy, is he?"
Janice shrugged. "Nee nanna chutto." She reached down to the table and grabbed a palm-top computer. She tapped a few commands onto the keypad and the droid zipped back out from behind her. It's large blue "eye" stared blankly at Lal while Janice continued to enter commands. With each command she entered, the little droid emitted a beep.
When she was done, Janice informed Lal that the droid was now programmed to recognize Lal as its user. It drifted back towards Lal and began examining her hair once more.
"Um…" Lal frowned, glancing around at the droid as it floated behind her. "Is there any way to make him stop doing that?"
Janice chuckled and patted Lal on the shoulder. She pressed the palm-top into Lal's hand and explained that if she wanted to change any program settings, she could use the module to do so.
Lal nodded. "Does he have a name?"
"Ah…bo Ay-vay-ood-oia," Janice said. Then in very careful and slow basic she said, "Arakyd-Vie-purrr-Ate. Mmm…mod-ee-fied."
"AyVee-Eight," Lal mused. "Cute, Janice. Corny, but cute. Alright. Here you go." She handed Janice a two-K credit-spike. That brought the total she'd dropped on her new droid to six thousand credits in all. "You'd better be worth it, my little friend."
The droid whistled confidently and floated close to her head as she walked out into the shop.
"Zaalbar, stop playing with that droid," Lal said. The Wookiee jumped away from the cargo-droid he'd been inspecting and clasped his paws innocently behind his back. AyVee caught sight of the huge Wookiee and screeched in alarm. He dodged behind Lal while Zaalbar pressed his paws against his ears and roared. "Oh, knock it off, you two!"
Zaalbar pointed a claw at the droid and fired off a warning bark. AyVee gained a little bit of confidence and whistled and hooted at the Wookiee over Lal's shoulder. AyVee rather rapidly determined that his high-pitched whistles sliced right into the Wookiee's sensitive ears.
"Oh bloody hell," Lal groaned. "You two stop it this minute!" she yelled. Both Zaalbar and AyVee fell reluctantly silent, glaring at each other. Lal glared furiously at both of them. "I cannot believe this," she hissed, aiming a finger at AyVee. "I'm not even out of the shop with you, and you're acting up!"
AyVee hummed apologetically and drifted low, sinking beneath Lal's knee. Zaalbar grunted in satisfaction and folded his arms across his massive chest.
"And you!" Lal whirled her fury on the Wookiee. "You should know better! Now stop acting like children. Let's go."
Lal stormed out of the shop while Zaalbar and AyVee fell in behind her. Zaalbar turned and bared his teeth to the little droid. AyVee rolled his scanner away in irritation.
The Sith had occupied a cluster of buildings in UpCity's docking sector. Before their arrival, ships blistered into the atmosphere day in and day out to touch down on platforms precariously suspended over the soaring urban canyons far below. The only ships that flew now were Sith snub fighters and a few transports commandeered to ferry supplies and personnel to and from the surface.
The Sith base had been built in less than two days, relying upon the Sith defense philosophy of the mobile fortress. When Sith troopers put down on a planet, they brought with them modular components for their strongholds; security walls that could be mounted against existing structures to make them secure; autoblasters to lay down killing fields; sentry check points.
They'd take what had been a bustling warehouse and turned it into a citadel almost overnight. Now, troopers patrolled the docking bays, and posted guards along the bridge that connected the Docks to the main plaza of UpCity. Sensor towers mounted on collapsible lattice-works scanned the skies while turbolaser batteries crouched upon the rooftops.
Heavily carapaced Sith speeders prowled the city streets beyond the Access Bridge, and a massive Speeder Tank rested just before the main gate. Beyond it, on the bridge, two heavy blaster positions had been set up, and the crews delighted in running targeting drills on civilians who strayed within their sights.
But as secure as the Sith had made their ersatz stronghold, it was still a warehouse facility in a docking complex nearly as large as a city. There were many entrances, and pathways winding in. To deal with this, the Sith had unleashed hundreds of patrol droids to crawl the walkways and guard the doors, like gleaming white metal spiders hunting their next meal.
They also put a guard station at the LowCity entrance; no tank could fit in those corridors, but they did set up gun emplacements and checkpoints. A covered walkway led to the Dock entrance, and through the long, narrow windows of the passage, several docking platforms could be seen glinting in the orange sky.
The Sith manning the entrance did not see the tiny Arakyd surveillance droid hovering in passive scan mode above them. One of its three vid recorders glowed a dim red, capturing the movements of the Sith troops and relaying them back to a hand-held, palm-top computer module.
Soon, a trio of troops in bright silver armor marched up to the first checkpoint at the far end of the walkway. The two taller soldiers held heavy blaster rifles on a pair of prisoners; a towering Wookiee and a woman in a dun-colored tabard. The shorter soldier stepped up to the guard manning the checkpoint and jerked a thumb back at the prisoners.
"We caught these two on patrol, she said, her voice turned into a metallic growl by her helmet's respiratory filter. "We think the female may be the one Lord Malak is after."
The guard nodded and waved them through the post. As they stepped onto the walkway, two massive blaster cannons swiveled to cover them, the gunnery crew staring impassively at them.
"Hold it," an officer in gray and black ordered, walking briskly from the entrance. He stopped before the three soldiers and stared curiously at their prisoners. "I haven't heard any reports of prisoners being taken. What unit are you with?"
The female soldier stiffened her posture and stared straight ahead. "Fourth Ground Assault mechanized, Sir!" she replied smartly.
