11: Shadows on the Wind
The twin suns of Tatooine blazed like diamonds trapped in a pool of lava as they rose high into the white sky. Jun Ando lifted his sandgoggles to mop the sweat from his brow and glanced around the loading dock with a weary sigh. It had been more than a week now with no word from his employer. If things went on much longer like this, they'd begin losing contracts. After word had reached them of Taris' destruction, several pilots had already deserted. Suppliers and buyers were losing confidence.
Word had it, Lal Sideen was dead.
Jun replaced his goggles and barked out an order to the crew of loading droids that had just hauled the cargo from the swollen belly of a Corellian Trade Skimmer, recently docked after a run through the Hutt territories. Jun knew the captain, a dusty-little bush pilot barely out of her teens, but with more stick time than half the space rats in port. An Feeda was a willowy Zabrak with barely a full crest of horns on her skull, sporting a brace of clan tattoos on her right cheek. She wasn't much more than a whip, but the girl was utterly fearless, like Lal herself. Jun supposed that was one reason Lal had contracted her and her ship. She was one of the few pilots still loyal. Maybe she hadn't heard about Taris, but it was more likely the girl simply didn't give a womp-rat's ass. Like most of these Outer Rim lifers, An was crazy.
Jun reckoned he fell right into company beside the girl. Still, he was getting paid for his time. As long as he made sure the shipments came through, funds were electronically transferred into his accounts on Munillist. He knew it was largely an automatic process, designed to hide the transactions from Kang, and just because he was still getting paid didn't mean Lal was alive.
Jun just didn't know what to think anymore. He walked over to a wall control pad and pushed the button that would extend the roof over the pit where the landing bay huddled. He watched it slowly spread across the bay, blocking of the glare of the suns, reflected a thousand fold by all the salt particles floating in the sky. An had gone on to the local cantina, likely to get drunk and bet her newfound creds on the Swoops. Probably a good idea.
Maybe Jun would run into Tuha there…try and get back into her bed tonight. Yeah, that was a good idea.
After making his way across the settlement, stepped into the dank moist shadows of the cantina. Didn't see An or Tuha, or anyone he knew. Just a bunch of Czerka corp salary-boys tossing back purple fizzes almost as if they were actual drinks. Jun sneered in disgust and almost decided to leave. Nobody had much love for Czerka; the galactic mega-corporation had set up shop some fifty years back, after some ridiculously premature subsurface surveys. They'd pushed out all the mom-and-pop mining operations that had claims here decades before Czerka's CEO had even learned how to wipe his snotty nose. Most of those old claims were as dry as the salt flats in the Dune Sea now. It was hard to stay in a place like Anchorhead or the outlying stakes without a foot to stand on. Many folks had left nigh twenty years ago. The diehards that stayed had turned to moisture farming…or other pursuits.
One couldn't spit into the wind without hitting either a smuggler, a pirate, a hooker or worse, a company rep. Not in Anchorhead. Most honest folk only came into the settlement for trade. Only real thing of any value on Tatooine was water. Oh the Czerka dung-wigglers tried to flood the economy with their all but useless corporate scrip, and their local vendors shortchanged you when you used standard cred. But it was getting to the point where the few cred clinking about in a man's pockets was hardly worth the water pumping through his body.
There was cred to be had on the Tat; it just wasn't a good place to spend it. Unless you wanted to buy a lot of stock in getting pissed. Jun eased up to the bar to make an investment.
"A bottle of Yellow Bottom," he grunted at the bartender. The man shoved a clear bottle of the sour malt at him and went off to adjust the flickering hologram of a half-naked Twi'lek dancer, writhing in a broken loop a meter above the bar. Jun took a swig of the Yellow Bottom, convincing himself for the thousandth time that the color of the stuff didn't make him think of bantha urine. It burned its way down with an oddly antiseptic hiss that tended to grow on a person. Then the hiss turned into a frothy rumble halfway down his throat.
"Ah," he gasped, "that's good Yellow…"
"Then you'd better enjoy it," a gravelly voice grated behind him. Jun's hand instinctively fell to his blaster as he took another swig. "Because it's gonna be your last one."
Jun's body tensed to whirl and draw his weapon, but a heavy weight blasted into the base of his skull. He staggered forward into the bar and the Yellow slipped from his fingers to explode in a wet crash upon the floor. Jun felt himself falling; his hands hit the ground, skin bursting where glass shards jabbed into him. Darkness swept over him, and he wondered if he was getting paid enough for this…
"You know the one good thing about this salt-cake of a dust-hole planet you got here, Jun?" a voice hissed. "Hmm? No local constabulary. Oh yeah, Czerka pays some of their silky-boys to put on a cap and shine a flashlight into the corners and alleys at night, but those girls don't want any trouble. Not in a town where everybody carries a gun."
Jun shook his throbbing head and tried to stand, but his arms and legs were bound. He blinked his eyes to clear the fog and saw that he was inside the cargo hold of a ship. Small one from the looks of it. Couldn't tell the make.
"That witch has certainly done pretty nice for herself here. I gotta admit, I'm surprised. Yeah. Who would'a thought that Lal Sideen would have the sack to set up an operation behind Davik's back? Not that I care, mind you. Davik Kang was a stupid bastard and personally, I'm glad he's dead."
Jun propped himself up against a bulkhead and squinted in the dull-edged glow to see a powerfully built, squat man in a long coat the color of sand at midday. A pair of goggles rested over a sharp nose and a cruel sneering wrinkle of a mouth. Damn.
"Alright. Might as well get to it. "You know who I am, Jun Ando."
Jun nodded, a grimace of pain and fear twisting his wind-worn features.
"Say it! Say my name!"
Jun's lips twisted as he spat the words out. "Calo Nord."
"You got that right, dust-kicker. Now, I don't have a lotta time to spare cuttin' on you and all that. So we're gonna try something new for me. You tell me what I want to know, and I let you walk out of here."
Jun's mind suddenly raced with thoughts, putting the puzzle pieces together swiftly.
"Now, hold on a sec," Nord went on. "You ain't the brightest bulb in the pack, but you're still smart enough to figure that I'm here on account of Lal Sideen. You're probably thinking that she escaped from Taris. That she's alive. Well, don't hold out your hopes too long or too far. I want you to understand, she might still be walkin' around, but that is one dead woman. Her life ain't worth the effort it takes you to spit dust on this dust-hole. Because I'm after her. Since you know who I am, you know that I'm a man of my word when it comes to killin'."
"How about you just get on with it, bounty hunter."
Calo nodded and took a step towards Jun. "How 'bout I do that. I been watching this little operation for a few days now. Learning the ins and outs. Actually wasn't easy to find it, but it wasn't that hard either. Not once I realized that Lal would be the sort to feather a nest. I remembered when we came out to this crap-hole last time, with Davik. She was real interested in the smuggling operation. And so, here I am, learning just how clever that witch is. You wanna be clever too, Jun. But not too clever, understand? Just clever enough to walk out of here with your life. So, where is she?"
Jun lowered his eyes and swallowed a deep breath that had the salty tinge of blood in it. "I don't know what you wanna know…d-do your worst…"
Calo's gloved fist slammed into Jun's jaw, buffeting his skull. Blood flew from Jun's mouth and he fell to the floor, face first.
"That was very clumsy of you," Calo sighed. "The floor is quite slippery." He used his boot to turn Jun over on his back. "I reckon you didn't hear me as you were slipping. "Where is Lal Sideen?"
Jun spit out a wad of blood along with a tooth and shook his head. "This ain't the first time somebody threw me a beatin', you psycho half-pint son of a hutt."
Calo stomped down hard on Jun's chest and Jun cried out in pain. He tried to curl into a ball, but Calo ground his foot into Jun's throat, pinning him to the deck. "Y'know, I bet you're pretty accident prone, aren't you? You should be more careful."
Jun coughed and wheezed beneath Calo's boot, struggling to get free.
"Did you say something?" Calo asked casually. "Speak up."
"I…s-said…I-I d-don't…know where sh-she…"
Calo kicked Jun in his ribs, and Jun felt a sharp crack in his chest. He gasped and squeezed his eyes shut, whimpering wetly deep in his throat. Calo bent down to haul him up to his feet, and patted Jun on the shoulder. "Alright. It's alright now." Savagely, he yanked Jun forward and lifted his knee into Jun's belly. The Calo spun around and hammered his elbow against the back of Jun's skull.
Jun collapsed to his knees and vomited, doubling over. Calo kicked him onto the deck, on his side. "Must have eaten something that you didn't agree with. Once more. Where is she?"
"C-crazy b-b-bastard…if I knew, I-I…would have t-told…"
Calo snapped back a fist to slam it down into Jun's temple, but stopped. Calo sighed and crouched down over Jun's gasping, trembling body. "Y'know, I think I believe you. You're a clumsy half-witted dust-kicking flatscan, but maybe you've got some sense. You honestly don't have a clue." Calo pulled his knife from the rear of his belt and held it before Jun's wide eyes.
And chuckled.
"I'm a man of my word," he reminded Jun, and sliced the cord around his ankles. He put the knife away, after kissing it, and smiled at Jun; a nasty slash of a smile, with teeth bared. He hauled Jun back up to his feet and patted his cheek. "Your hands remain tied, of course. For my safety. Can you walk? Can you?"
Jun nodded weakly, cringing away from the bounty hunter.
"Good, good. See? I'm not so bad. Now then…where would I go if I was a hutt-slime of a whore on the run…? Maybe…maybe that Jedi is the key…maybe I should be looking for the Jedi instead…"
"Jedi?" Jun coughed.
Calo turned to him and frowned. "Just thinking out loud, dust-kicker," and he drew his blaster and fired point blank at Jun's face. Calo watched the corpse fall to the deck and he sighed, staring critically at the mess he'd made. He held his blaster up and adjusted the gain on the emitter. Then he holstered his weapon and headed out of the cargo hold to the tiny cockpit of his ship.
He crawled into the pilot's seat and reached down to flick on the computer. He cycled to the navigational directory and ran a search on planets used by the Jedi. He had heard something about the Council spreading its members across nearly a dozen worlds, ever since Malak had hit Coruscant a while back. "Coruscant's too visible," he muttered, looking at the list of worlds that popped up. "Same with Alderaan…They'd want some place out of the way…" He called up another planet on the display screen and jabbed at it with his finger. Aha. That's where you went, isn't it? You cowardly little whore…Dantooine…"
"So it would seem you've decided to wear a lightsaber," Master Vrook commented, piercing Lal with a cold glare. Lal's hand reflexively brushed across the lightsaber hanging from her belt. Vrook turned his bitter stare upon Bastila. "Tell me, Padawan; did you consult anyone before you took it upon yourself to put such a dangerous weapon into your sister's hands? I wonder that your feelings are entirely clear on this matter…"
Master Vandar shook his head, causing his long ears to wiggle. He cleared his throat with a grunt and cast a sidelong glance up at Vrook. "Other matters there are to concern us this day, I think, Master Vrook. Besides which, saved the life of Belaya, Lal did. Hmm? Hmm. Easier it is to destroy than it is to create. Great discipline it requires to do otherwise." The diminutive Jedi stepped forward and gazed up at Lal with measuring eyes. "Perhaps good it was the time spent between sisters, hmm? Lal, know do you the reason we are here?"
"I can only guess it had something to do with the events of last night. Before we speak of this, I must ask about Belaya. Is she…?"
"Belaya was gravely wounded," Master Zhar said. "We heard the full tale from Bastila earlier. But thanks to you, Lal, she will recover. This was…somewhat unexpected. At least, so soon, anyway. Because of your Jedi skills, such a thing is well within your abilities, of course. But we worried that this amnesia would sever you from those skills. Unfortunately, this leads into another problem we face.
"You see, Lal," he said, "Belaya was on a mission of utmost importance when you two rescued her. She petitioned the Council repeatedly to be entrusted with this mission, as it was…it was very dear to her."
"She should have been refused on that basis," Vrook growled. "Her emotional attachment led her to this eventuality. And her inexperience."
Lal shook her head, confused by their words. "I'm afraid I don't quite follow…"
"Eager was Belaya," Vandar explained, "perhaps too eager, to undertake this mission safely. Little choice did we have, though. Gone are many of our Jedi Knights, you see. Assigned to postings among the fleet have they been. Necessity."
"You see, Lal," Zhar went on, "for many weeks now, we have sensed a presence…a power…growing strong in the Dark Side. There is a grove, once sacred to the original inhabitants of this world long, long ago. We believe they knew the ways of the Force, but they predated the Jedi traditions by…by thousands of years. Though they are but dust and dreams now, their…presence still manifests in certain places. This grove has stood longer than the Jedi have existed, and always, it has been a place of tremendous power. But something has changed the grove, Lal. Corrupted it. One of the results of this corruption, as you discovered last night…the kath hounds have been…twisted by this energy.
"Kath hounds are normally quite fierce when provoked. But they rarely cross the paths of the few sentients who make Dantooine their home. They are like any other animal in that regard. But this…taint has turned the kath hounds into…into monsters. Guided, it seems, by some malevolent will. Four times now, there have been reports of attacks on settlers. Each attack has been more savage than the last. Belaya asked to be entrusted with the task of stopping this."
Lal did recall that Belaya had seemed impatient when she met her yesterday. Regardless, she wasn't sure she liked where this was going. "I…I'm not sure I understand what you want me to do about this…I thought I was supposed to be a one-woman army against this Malak character. Now you want me to go and kill a bunch of…kath hounds?"
Zhar shook his head. "Your feelings serve you well, Lal. But that is not what is required; killing kath hounds would be like merely treating the symptoms of a disease. The cause of the disease must be addressed."
"Go you must to the Ancient Grove, Lal," Master Vandar said. "Unravel this mystery you will."
"You may consider it a…a test," Zhar added. "To determine if you are…strong enough to bear this burden we must place on your shoulders."
"A test," Lal repeated flatly. "No rest for the wicked, then, is there? It's rather a lot to dump into my lap all at once, don't you think?"
"Predictable," Vrook chuckled. "Insolence. A lack of proper respect. You only see yourself, not others. This is your weakness, Lal. Perhaps it served you well on Taris, but--"
"Excuse me," she cut in sharply. "You people reel me in here and off-handedly turn my entire world on its ear. You place some terrible…duty on me after less than a day, and I'm supposed to just accept it blindly? Then, you tell me I'm suddenly subject to some bloody test? Forgive me if I don't eagerly strike out upon it."
"Hmph!" Vrook snorted in disgust glancing down at Vandar. "Perhaps it would change her mind if we offered a few credits…"
"It might!" Lal snapped angrily. "Listen…I don't know what I was like before I…before I lost my memory, but I doubt I was a fool. You have been treating me as such ever since I arrived. My feelings do serve me well, Master Zhar. Even on Taris, I've always been able to smell a muckrat. You people are hiding something. You're not telling me everything."
She folded her arms over her breasts and cocked her weight on her back leg, watching as the Jedi glanced back and forth among each other, digesting her words. "I'll do this task for you," she finally continued. "But 'test'? I think not. I'll do this for you, but when I do, I want to know everything. This is my life you're mucking about with, and as such, I deserve to know everything."
"Predictable," Vrook sighed. "Do not presume to dictate to the Council, young lady!"
"Lamar," Zhar said quietly to Vrook, "perhaps Lal is right. We are not deceiving you, Lal. But it is understandable why you might feel paranoid. This is all very new and strange to you. And terribly sudden. But here is the simple truth, Lal. The Republic is facing its greatest threat since the days of Exar Kun. The Sith have returned more powerful than ever could have been imagined. Their fleet is unstoppable. The source of their new power is…it remains a mystery to us. We don't have a great deal of time. That's why we are pushing you. We need you. It's that simple."
Lal thought back to Carth's words on the Ebon Hawk. He said much the same thing. And she figured it was only a matter of time before more worlds like Telos or Taris fell to them. She couldn't deny that. And perhaps Carth had been right. She just wanted to remember her life. But there were so many obstacles in her path. The Council was one of those obstacles. And it seemed, perhaps, so was Malak.
"Alright," she finally relented. "I'll help. I assume Bastila knows where this grove is? Let's get this done, then."
Bastila glanced nervously at her boots…
"Bastila will not be joining you, I'm afraid," Zhar said. "Bastila is the only one among us who possesses battle meditation, Lal. She is…too valuable to endanger. You must do this task without her help."
You're joking," Lal cried out. Then she thought better of her words. "No, of course you're not joking. Does this get any worse? Am I to do this alone, then?"
"I'm afraid we cannot send any other Jedi to assist you, Lal," Zhar said. "Most of the Padawans here at the Enclave are…too inexperienced. Unfortunately, Master Bolook and Master Nemo are involved in other duties. I'm sorry, Lal. Please try to understand. We have spoken to Bastila at length about you, today. Based on her recommendation, we feel this task is within your abilities to complete."
Lal sighed heavily and nodded. "Alright, then. I'll do what you need me to do."
"Ah chutta," the Twi'lek merchant smiled at Lal as she walked into the surplus store. "Bo Crattis Yurkaloia; Ting-neboong cha, ni dah!"
Lal nodded politely to him as she glanced over the stacks of battered metal crates and shelves of weaponry. She noticed several droids in the back, going through inventory lists, and a younger Twi'lek perched over a work table, using a microwelder on a broken down motivator assembly.
"Jedda bodda wanna needa boddo?" Crattis Yurkal asked her.
"Actually, I'm looking for a decent Slipsuit," she replied. "You sell military surplus here?"
He nodded and moved towards a stake of crates, gesturing for her to follow. "Meeli wo rong chee." He hauled down one of the crates from the stack and popped it open on the floor. Inside rested a dozen jiggling spheres of black jelly, with metal studs lodged within them. Crattis knelt down and ran his green fingers over the studs in each of the jellied balls. He then looked up at Lal, examining her size and shape. "Er…eh…heh…ning chop-pekto…heh," he began nervously.
Lal chuckled and shook her head. "No, I won't be needing a fitting. I wear an Alpha-eight-six-gee."
"Ah," he nodded, seeming a bit disappointed. He reached into the crate and pulled out a globe. He stood up and held it out for her inspection.
"That'll do," she told him, checking the tiny code laser-etched into the metal stud of the ball. She could tell from the globe's jiggling consistency that these Slipsuits were genuine Durosian-manufacture, never used before. "I'll also be needing a rifle. Something compact, but with stopping power."
He glanced at her in confusion, and gestured to the lightsaber at her belt. "Nee Jedi no wadda…? Keeng no chuuk--"
"I'm going on a hunting trip," she told him quickly, silencing his speculation. "Lightsabers rather take the sport out of it. I was thinking maybe a Blastech G-227? I don't want one of those cheap Czerka knock-offs you've got stacked up there."
"Ki-poona!" he hissed, nodding sagely at her. "Czerka neek-chong meely wang!"
Lal tried not to listen too closely as he ranted about Czerka's various monopolistic practices. She smiled and nodded where appropriate, though. And he led her to the rear of the shop, where he opened a closet. He grinned proudly, revealing a hidden stock of higher quality firearms stacked almost reverently within the closet. He pulled forth the Blastech she'd asked for and slapped the receiver plate open for her inspection.
Lal examined it closely, noticing that there was hardly any carbon scoring, and nodded. "Very good. I'll also be needing supplies. Add them to my bill, if you would."
Lal returned to the front counter as Crattis began filling her order. She saw Canderous leaning in the open doorway of the shop, his arms folded across the breastplate of his blue and silver armor.
"Planning a countryside jaunt, then?" he asked.
"I have business to which I must attend, Canderous."
"So I can see," he replied as Crattis set a crate of supplies down on the counter beside Lal. Lal checked over the supplies and nodded at Crattis. She pulled forth a credstick and handed it over to him. Crattis smiled and slotted the stick into a data reader on the counter.
"Moocha chappa packa," Crattis nodded, handing the credstick back.
"Canderous, make yourself useful, would you?" Lal smiled, nodding her head at the crate of supplies. She slung the rifle over her shoulder and headed for the door. Canderous sighed and hefted the crate up onto his shoulder.
"I noticed you cut quite a striking figure with that lightsaber on your belt," Canderous said as the arrived at the Hawk's ramp.
She glanced over her shoulder at him as the stepped up into the Hawk's belly. She walked straight back into the maintenance bay and laid her new rifle down on one of the work tables. Canderous set the crate down beside the table and leaned against the wall to watch her. Lal pulled up a chair and sat down. She propped the rifle upright and flicked a lever that swung up the receiver from the main assembly. She pulled out the emitter coil and began field stripping the weapon with sharp efficient movements. After she had it stripped down, she began cleaning the parts.
Canderous reached out to flick on a light above the table.
"Thank you," she said. He shrugged in reply.
"Very efficient break-down," he told her. "I doubt I would be much faster."
Lal looked up at him as she polished the emitter lens and then began reassembling the rifle. As she did so, she removed the stock and tossed it aside. Even though it was a collapsible stock, it was too damned heavy. Once the rifle was back together, she held it in one hand and sighted down the length of it. Satisfied, she laid the rifle down and swiveled in her chair to face Canderous.
"Your…sister was here earlier," Canderous said. She told the others you might require assistance in this…business of yours. An argument ensued between your soldier-boy and the little Jedi. He complains a great deal about things he has no power to change."
"Carth isn't my soldier-boy, Canderous."
Canderous shrugged. "As you wish. I take it as a sign of weakness that he has not already claimed you. It is clear he desires you."
"What business is it of yours if he does or doesn't?"
"Only the business of amusement, Lal. If I didn't have these bright little moments in my life, I'm sure I would just simply…burst."
Lal suppressed a chuckle and shook her head. "Your sense of humor's coming along nicely."
"I've been working hard at it. So, you will need my assistance."
"Why do you think that, Canderous?"
"Heh. You are sharpening your spears, so to speak. When a clan readies its blades and pins their cloaks to the ground, they are preparing to fight and die."
"Canderous…your metaphors are truly colorful, but…"
"Obviously, you are embarking on a dangerous task. You will need assistance. Your sister claimed she was restricted from aiding you, but that your…ah…friends might be allowed to help."
"Canderous, I know we've spoken about this--"
"Then it need not be spoken of a second time."
"Canderous…I find myself…needing to be honest with you…more so than anyone I know…I don't know why…"
He chuckled. "Likely because I am honest with you when no one else you know is. Except for Mission. She is too simple-witted to be deceptive."
"Leave Mission alone, Canderous. I'm trying to tell you something important. It's about my…my past."
"You're a Jedi?"
"Er…yes…so it seems…"
"Heh. But you are not sure you believe this?"
"Yes. No. I don't know…I can…do things, Canderous…"
"'Things.' Ah. Impressive."
"Oh forget it!" she growled, leaping to her feet. She turned to walk away, but he grabbed her hand, and snapped her around to face him. He yanked her close to him and glared into her face.
"Canderous, she hissed softly, her wrist pulsing in his iron grasp, "If you're not planning on kissing me, I would suggest you remove your hand."
"Bastila has made you too trusting, Lal. Listen to me! I know these Jedi! They are not to be trusted! They are cunning dogs…"
"Perhaps, Canderous," she snarled, pivoting sharply out of his grasp, "you are thinking of Revan and Malak."
"Revan and Malak at least had the courage to stand up for what they believed in. The rest of the Jedi chose cowardice. Though they claim to be champions of the light, they do not hesitate to rely upon deceit and manipulation to achieve their ends. I would respect this if they weren't hypocrites. Respect cunning, Lal, but beware it when it is paired with moral superiority. Whatever they have told you, Lal, do not trust. Their brand of fanaticism will get you killed."
"Canderous…I don't think I can offer you the same…opportunities as I had planned. I must learn what the Jedi know. What they know about me. I have no choice in that. And I cannot have you waiting around for something I may never be able to…to give you."
"Heh. Luckily, I wish for nothing to be given to me. We shall see what we shall see, Lal. And that is all that needs to be said about that. For now."
Lal left Canderous in the maintenance bay and took the corridor that led to the starboard crew cabin. When she saw Mission sprawled across one of the bunks, snoozing fitfully, Lal almost left. Instead, she moved quietly to peer down at Mission. The girl was truly beautiful when she was at rest like this; placid and silent and still. Lal chuckled as she noticed that Mission's lips pouted when she slept, making her seem even younger.
Lal wished she hadn't said what she'd said to Mission. The girl was every inch her sister…as much as Bastila, perhaps. In the past three years, Lal had never loved nor cherished a damn thing. Mission was special. She was no burden. She couldn't be. Not to Lal.
But then Lal realized Mission wasn't the burden at all. Davik would never have given a second thought to Mission had she not been friends with Lal. He wouldn't have hunted her down. Wouldn't have beaten her. Mission's azure skin was still mottled with the bruises and scars of Davik's hospitality. She didn't heal as fast as Lal seemed to.
Lal sighed and turned away from the Twi'lek girl. There was nothing to be said anymore. Nothing she could tell Mission to remove the hurt she'd inflicted. And there was nothing to be done. Being too close to Lal would be the death of Mission. Lal couldn't let that happen, no matter how much it hurt Mission.
Lal pulled her tunic over her head and tossed it on another bunk. She sat down naked on that bunk and began wrenching her boots off. She tugged them off with a grunt and tossed them aside. Then, she stood, holding the jiggling black globe of the unformatted Slipsuit in her palm. She pressed the sphere to her belly and thumbed the metal stud. The jellied ball suddenly splashed over her body, running over her skin like oil. It filled every hollow and spread across every curve, formatting itself to her body. In seconds, it polymerized to a glistening rubbery sheen, covering her from her throat to her toes. As she breathed, she felt the suit shifting and stretching to match the movement of her ribcage.
She bent down to retrieve her boots and Mission grunted behind her.
"Real considerate puttin' your butt in my face," Mission mumbled.
"I'm sorry, Mission," Lal said, sitting down to pull her boots on. "I didn't mean to wake you." Mission rolled onto her side to face Lal, and stared at her with slitted blue eyes.
"I know why you said those things to me, Lal. I'm not stupid. Took me a while to figure it out, but I ain't dumb."
"I know you're not, Mission," Lal sighed, looking down at her lap.
Mission propped herself up on her elbow and scowled. "You coulda just said that you didn't want to put me in any danger. I woulda understood."
Lal finished pulling her boots on and stood to strap her belt around her hips. She noticed Mission's lips still bore the pout she'd worn in sleep. Lal moved to sit down on Mission's bunk, and twisted to lay a hand on the girl's shoulder. The frown wrinkling Mission's brow smoothed out as she looked up into Lal's eyes.
"We've been through a lot, haven't we?" Lal asked softly, stroking Mission's arm. Mission simply nodded. Lal reached out to touch a faint scar the ran down Mission's cheek. "I'm responsible for this," Lal told her. "I don't want to be responsible for anything else. You and Zaalbar are…you are the only things I've ever cared about, Mission. I'm not used to that. I…I don't…that's not an excuse…oh bloody hell…"
Mission rolled onto her back and folded her arms across her breasts. "I'm a liability. Canderous was right."
"Mission, I…you…You and I are…Carth accused me of thinking too much of myself. I suppose he was right. But that's all that I really know. And right now, I know that I'm going to be doing some dangerous things."
"But why?" Mission moaned. "Why do you have to? Because Bastila says she's your sister? Because you're some sort of…Jedi or something?"
"Does everybody know about this, then?" Lal sighed.
"Lal, we could just go. You don't owe them anything. We could find some planet, some beautiful little place no one's ever heard of…you, me and Zaalbar. You've done enough for the Jedi…or the Republic…or whoever…" Mission fell silent and rolled her eyes.
"Mission, I wish I could explain it…so that…so that it makes sense. I can't because I don't even understand what's going on…But, I must know who and what I was, Mission. You must understand that. The past three years, Mission, it's like they've been a dream…a nightmare. No…not even that. I wish I could put it into words, Mission. I really do. It's like…watching a holo-vid; you see what's happening, but there's no…no connection to any of it."
Lal lowered her eyes and rose to her feet. She placed a hand on her hip and gazed down at Mission. "Bastila is my sister, Mission. I feel the…the truth of that. But I have another sister."
"Huh?" Mission grunted, sitting upright. She stared blankly at Lal. "You've got another sister?"
Lal nodded, a smile peeking past her lips. "That's right. Although she is a bit slow sometimes. Not much of a family resemblance."
"Oh…" Mission's face brightened and she grinned broadly. "Lal, you completely had me going…"
"You're rather an easy mark," Lal chuckled. Mission popped up out of her bunk and threw her arms around Lal. Lal faked a sigh of annoyance and hugged Mission tightly to her.
"Lal, you'd be so proud of me, because I'm a completely incredible shot! Zaalbar says I'm a natural, and I'm sure I could help you out, you know? Like, I could watch your back and stuff…"
Lal groaned and held Mission at arms length to look into her eyes. "Stop."
"But, Lal…I…"
"Stop."
"Lal…my place is with you! I don't have anything else…My brother abandoned me…my parents…I don't have any parents…I'm just…I know I can be useful. I mean…not a burden and all…"
Lal sighed and pulled away from the Twi'lek. "Mission…I can't believe you. I just…Do you think I enjoy this? That I'm happy doing the things I've done? Is that what you think? Why do you think it's so bad being…being a normal girl?"
"Normal girl…I'm a normal girl?" Mission sank back down on the edge of her bunk and chuckled. "I'm a normal girl…okay. Makes sense. Thanks for clueing me in, Lal." She pointed to the slave tattoo burned upon her brow. "This should tell everybody, right? Mission's normal! She has a normal life! She has friends and a boyfriend, and she's smart and knows normal things…hey, maybe she can go to University on Coruscant, and she can study…study…I don't know…she can study! Because she's normal!"
Lal sat down on the bunk opposite Mission and placed her hands in her lap. She gazed across at Mission, and for the first time, recognized the helplessness she saw in Mission's eyes.
"Lal…I may not be as smart as you or as good as you…I don't know things like you do…And I know that…I need to know things. To survive. This thing on my face tells everyone that I'm just a piece of property. On my own…it's only a matter of time before someone decides they have the right to make me…to make me do what they want. Don't you understand that?"
Lal stared at Mission in silence and reason waged a war with sentiment inside her skull. The cold logic that had been born in Taris' gutters whispered in Lal's thoughts, promising that Mission would be a liability. That chill, analytical voice computed the variables and displayed them as hardened unadulterated fact. But her heart moaned and bleated, and cried that Mission's worth could not be reduced to such base terms. Mission needed someone to guide her and protect her.
And since nobody else cared about Mission, that person had to be Lal.
"Alright, Mission," Lal finally said. "I will explain to you how things will be between us. First, let me tell you something: if you get yourself killed, I shall be very cross with you…"
"I don't like the thought of camping out in the open," Carth grunted, taking a bearing with the auto-compass built into the wrist computer he wore.
Mission peeked out the hatch of the heavy speeder they'd rented and squinted into the dying orange globe of the setting sun. "Well," she sighed, "it doesn't look like there's a whole lot out here besides 'the open'…"
Carth rolled his eyes and slowly turned to face her. "Why, Mission, thank you for pointing out the merely obvious as opposed to the extremely obvious…"
The Twi'lek frowned at him as she stepped down from the massive speeder. "Huh?"
Lal glanced back at both of them where she stood on the edge of the hilltop. "The point being, we don't have much choice, and this hill is as close to a defensive position as were likely to find before dark." They'd coaxed the huge Sorosuub speeder up to the crest of a bulge in the grasslands, a modest hilltop that afforded them a clear view for miles. The Sorosuub X-10 sat like an armored blister on the spine of the hill. The vehicle was squat and wide-bodied, like an Iridonian turtle dragon with its horned skull and spiked limbs drawn inside its shell to bear down against an acid squall.
On her palmtop, Lal looked through AyVee's eyes as the little droid soared high above the ground, searching for any signs of movement. The droid also did an occasional terrain scan, pulsing a sensor beam from his under-chassis to update the ancient map the Jedi had downloaded into Lal's computer. Twice already, Lal had been forced to redirect AyVee's lagging concentration; curiosity had sent him zipping after a flight of manta-wings drifting low for an afternoon feed. And he had dropped altitude to have a chat with a decidedly lonely communications relay droid sitting in a dry gully several kilometers back.
On the screen she could see the tiny image of Canderous, far below AyVee, setting up perimeter charges. For a moment, Lal wondered where the Mandalorian got all the explosives he gleefully put into play. Zaalbar was also out there, somewhere, his fur blending in with the tall dun-colored grasses, tracking the spoor of kath hounds. Lal didn't like the Wookiee being alone out there in the long grasses, but figured he was more than a match for a kath hound or two.
Lal hooked the palmtop to her belt and sighed. The sun was low enough that it made long-legged spiders of their shadows, scattering them wide across the hill's rounded surface. Behind her, Carth flicked on a bulky heater pack. Inside it, trinium coils began to warm up with a hum, sending out a sphere of dull heat. He glanced at Lal and managed to summon up half a smile for her benefit. But she could sense his mounting frustration. She smiled back and watched him as he tossed Mission a food-pak and then tore open one for himself.
Mission glanced at her food-pak and gingerly ripped open the silvery wrapping. She sniffed the contents experimentally and fished out one of the uninspired gray protein blocks. Carth chuckled as he watched Mission, and bit into his own food.
"It's good for you," he told Mission. "It'll put hair on your chest."
"Just what I always wanted," Mission growled, taking a tiny bite. Her face contorted and her eyes shriveled shut in disgust. "Mmm. My favorite…permacrete flavor…"
Carth laughed and wiped crumbs from his mouth with the back of his sleeve. "Dust flavor is the best," he joked. "One good thing about these protein blocks, they actually brush your teeth while you're eating…"
"Better not give any to the Carpet, then," Lal said.
Mission immediately brightened up. "I bet he's found something better to eat…maybe some tube grubs…think they have rubblebugs on Dantooine?"
"Tend to doubt it, kid," Carth said. "You don't really eat those things do you?"
Mission cocked her head and her lekku quivered indignantly. "They're totally considered a delicacy on Ryloth," she announced. "If you fix 'em right. So I've been told, anyways. 'Course, they were a cred a dozen in Undercity. But those low-dweller pink skins always over-cooked 'em…"
"Never seen Ryloth, huh?" Carth asked.
Mission shrugged and hugged herself tightly in the chill air. "Not so's I remember, anyway…my brother, Griff and me left when I was a baby, after our parents died. I was too little to remember a whole lot…"
Carth grunted and nodded. "Heatstorms make these weird convection patterns in the Sandlands. At mid-sun, the sand gets stirred into the air and forms fractal patterns, held together by static discharge. They spin around like kilometer-wide snowflakes…"
"What's a snowflake?" Mission asked.
Carth stared at her in blank surprise. "It didn't snow on Taris?"
"Maybe it did at one point in time," Lal said. "They'd been engineering weather for so many centuries that the seasons were all bollicksed up."
"Pity," Carth sighed, grinning at both of them. "You ladies would love the snow sheets of Auris Prime. Little resort world just off the Koornacht. Low gravity, so the skiing is insane."
"Never found much value in resort worlds," Canderous said, rejoining them, "at least, not beyond what could be looted and pillaged. Heh. Nothing like a resort world for booty, of course."
"For what?" Mission gasped.
"Treasure," Lal explained.
Canderous seemed to think about it for a moment and shrugged. "That too."
"Great," Carth hissed, his mood souring, "color commentary from the bloodthirsty savage."
"Heh," Canderous chuckled, turning to Lal. "Charges are set. Belly-poppers loaded with Free-Shot. Should rip the guts out of any quadruped that gets curious.
"Just make sure you don't go sleepwalking, Joygirl," he pointed a finger at Mission. "Or it'll take a good deal more than make-up to get you pretty again."
Mission waited until Canderous had his back turned before she stuck her tongue out at him. By then, Zaalbar had made his way back up the hill, with three bloodied carcasses slung over his shoulder. The Wookiee growled a warning to stay away from his dinner, and he moved off to the far corner of the speeder to hunker down and tear into the meat he'd rustled up.
"Just going to eat that raw, are you, Carpet?" Lal murmured, her nose wrinkling up.
"Ugh," Mission groaned. "I think I'm gonna be sick."
"Yeah," Carth nodded, "I think dinner's over. I'm gonna take first watch."
Revan smiled beneath that iron mask and glanced down at Malak, trusted, loyal Malak. Before them, stretched over every surface of a bridge suspended over the LowCity canyons of Taris, stood a hundred Jedi Knights from every corner of the known galaxy, their fists raised into the air; lightsabers gleamed into the golden morning. And behind the hundred Jedi stood the elite guard of the Republic, cheering, all staring at Revan.
Revan stood on a makeshift podium; a hovering STAP floating in the midst of a blocked intersection. Never had Revan seen so many Jedi in a single place. Revan could hardly believe there were so many…
"This…is the dawn of a new day," Revan cried out, not knowing where the words had been born. "A new season! When you find yourselves at a quiet moment of your life, looking back on the path you walked, you will always be able to say, 'I stood in the first light of that first day! I was there! I made it happen!' Today is the day when we stare the darkness in the eye, when we do not turn. Today we stand and say, 'YOU WILL NOT PASS! HERE IS THE LINE WE DRAW, AND PASS IT AT YOUR PERIL!'"
A roar rose up, cheering Revan's words.
Later, Revan and Malak walked the Loop of LowCity, accompanied by an honor guard of young Jedi. "More are coming every day, Revan," Malak whispered excitedly. "I mean, most of them are just Padawans, but they are eager for the fight…"
"Eager," Revan sighed. "You say that like it's a good thing…"
Malak turned and frowned at his best friend. "Well…isn't it? I thought…"
"Mal, this isn't going to be like the few skirmishes we've been in so far…We'll be fighting fleets! Armies! Eager is going to get these Padawans killed! On Coruscant, they taught us fear was the path to the Dark Side…but I rather think it'll be the thing that keeps us all alive. They must learn that. I don't need fearless men!"
Malak glanced back at the other Jedi walking with them and shrugged.
They came around the Loop to an open archway where several Jedi stood guard. Revan glanced back at Malak. "Is this where the Hutt is?"
Malak nodded and gestured to a young woman approaching through the archway. She was a Jedi, small of frame with eyes like dark coals. Her close cropped dark hair framed her soft face in curled spikes. She fell in beside Revan and nodded curtly.
"We've run the Hutt aground as you wished, Revan. He had all but abandoned his operation here in LowCity. He was trying to escape when we picked him up. He had…several Mandalorian thugs with him, Revan…"
"Thank you, Sideen," Revan said, glancing at Malak. "We would speak with this creature."
Tanka the Hutt was a mound of quivering pale flesh, laying in swollen coils in the center of a large, dimly lit chamber. Several Republic warriors stood guard on the Hutt, while other soldiers stood over a trio of manacled Mandalorians in a corner. A cluster of nearly naked humans and aliens huddled fearfully together under the watchful eye of one of the Jedi Padawans.
Revan's gaze swept over the naked ones, and saw several children in their midst. Utterly terrified. Revan turned to glare coolly at Tanka the Hutt and strode up before the fat-jowled monstrosity. "Well. Quite an honor, I'm sure," Revan hissed. "Your name is feared across half the quadrant."
"Eee chutta," Tanka rumbled, his voice like wet thunder. His slitted yellow eyes narrowed angrily as he glanced back and forth at the Jedi and soldiers assembled before him.
Revan chuckled at the Hutt's foul mouth. "You're going to tell us where you were going, Tanka. Your Syndicate can't save you now."
"Mucha chaap paak, Jedi. Nee chuupa no Pazaak-cha."
"Nevertheless, you will speak. Your operation here is shattered. No more slaving, I'm afraid. These people are now free." Revan turned and eyed a young girl. Revan smiled and walked over to take the girl's hand. She was tall and slender, her white skin frosted with a down of silver fur. Stripes cut across her fur in dark slashes. She glanced up at Revan with fearful orange eyes.
"It's alright now, child," Revan soothed, smoothing the girl's ragged silver hair. "You are free. Tell me your name, girl."
"J-Juhani…"
Lal awoke with a start and glanced around. Zaalbar hovered over her, grunting softly as he looked around in the night. His wet black nose twitched as he scented the air. Lal rose silently beside the Wookiee and her hand slipped towards the lightsaber at her belt. Carth was up, pulling a long rifle from the cargo bay of the Sorosuub. Canderous drifted beside Lal like a ghost.
"Movement beyond the perimeter," Canderous whispered. He nodded his head to the west, and Lal's eyes followed. Beyond the broad sweep of the hill, she saw a blanket of thick white fog clinging to the top of the grass. In the distance, she could see dark swirls wafting through the pale mists, forming milky shapes that swam beneath the cloudy surface and disappeared.
Lal fumbled for her palmtop and flicked it on. "AyVee," she whispered sharply, "up. Now." At her command, the little droid whizzed up out of the speeder and jetted into the sky. She turned back to Canderous. "They're not coming any closer…are they?"
He shook his head and squinted out into the distance. "Don't quite know why. They're all around, though. Waiting for something…"
Carth stepped up beside Lal and hefted one of his blasters against his shoulder. "Doesn't really matter what they're waiting for. You set the charges, right Canderous? So, when they do come it'll look like a Mandalorian holiday. What we need to do is lay down some fields of fire to take out anything that gets through."
Lal looked at him, searching his eyes; she found the steel she needed and gave a nod. "Canderous, north face. Zaalbar, you go with him and set up on the opposite side of the Speeder. Stay in sight of each other. Carth, south side of the hill, and I'll take the eastern face."
"Lal," Mission whispered from the speeder hatch, poking her head out, "I know you probably want me to hide in the speeder…but I'm a real good shot…"
Lal sighed and glanced down at her palmtop. AyVee flew in a wide circle high above the ground, peering down. His scanners sliced into the infrared spectrum, stripping away the sheets of cold white fog and painting the ground beneath in blazing reds and vulgar greens. Lal sucked in a breath as she saw the powerful bodies whipping about on the screen; they snarled and butted heads against densely muscled flanks. Tails snapped and teeth gnashed and blackened talons clawed at the ground.
AyVee flew over the writhing mass of kath hounds, banking sharply. He released a tiny trembling whistle as he moved, and on the screen, Lal saw a figure standing amidst the swarm of beasts. Tall and lean in the infrared scan, burning red and orange. The figure glanced upwards, directly at AyVee, and Lal saw its eyes, pitch black against the heat of its body.
The screen erupted into static.
"What the bloody hell," Lal hissed, frowning at the palmtop. She felt a shiver of electricity crawl down her spine and she glanced up into the dark sky. A pin prick of blue light jabbed through the black curtain of night and blossomed into a burning rose of fire. She heard AyVee cry out sharply, sounding like a human. Smoke trailed downward, making a fiery arc into the ground. "AyVee!" Lal called.
The droid fell to the ground enfolded in sheets of lightning and flame, illuminating the pacing kath hounds in shades of red. Lal gasped angrily, hooking the palmtop back onto her belt. She squinted out into the darkness and saw the shapes surge forward all at once. Her hand dropped to the hilt of her lightsaber reflexively. She gave a tiny shake of her head and reached instead for the rifle slung over her shoulder. She brought it down against her hip and waited for Canderous' charges to blow. She fumbled with the rifle, couching it in her arms, and then bracing it against her shoulder. Strangely, it just didn't feel…comfortable in her grip.
With an annoyed sigh, Lal turned to Mission and tossed the rifle to her. Mission caught it with a look of surprise. She stepped out of the speeder and moved to stand beside Lal.
"Down on one knee," Lal said to the girl. She moved in behind Mission as she knelt, and guided the rifle up against Mission's shoulder. "Hold it tight. It'll have some kick. Only shoot at what you can target along the sight. When they get close, drop the bloody thing and use that pistol on your hip. Understood?" Mission simply nodded, sighting down the length of the rifle.
The first explosion slammed a sheet of light and blood into the air. Another followed, bursting hound flesh into flaming gobbets. Detonations cracked and whumped all around them as the kath hounds charged madly towards the hill from all sides. Torn bodies flew through the air amidst clouds of fire and thunder. The mists were ripped away by compression waves and wet heat.
And still they came.
The second ring of charges went, shattering bones and shredding meat. Corpses fell in pieces, littering the grasslands and painting the ground red. Carbon charred the air with it's smoking stench. Lal couldn't even begin to count the bodies, but heard the keening wail of the pack as more charged through. Their numbers were thin, now; instead of a wave, they surged forth in rivulets of churning muscle and flesh. Snorting, snarling, growling, they tore up the hill.
Canderous and Zaalbar opened fire; Canderous with his heavy blaster rifle, spraying energy bolts in sheets down at the creatures; Zaalbar hurling plasma spears from his bowcaster that tore bodies apart. Carth unleashed with both his weapons, surgically dropping kath hounds with devilish accuracy. He fired from the hip, or stiff armed, snapping shots of with casual skill.
Mission murmured a string of incoherent babble under her breath as she sighted and squeezed the trigger. The powerful rifle blazed neat little holes into skulls and flanks, and Lal noted with some amusement, that nothing Mission aimed at got back up again.
But she had only a second to think on this. She almost didn't notice the lightsabers humming in her palms. Didn't question how they'd gotten there. She didn't stop to ponder the wave of liquid electricity coursing through her muscles. She didn't think. She didn't wonder.
She simply moved.
Propelled by a phantom gale, she flew down the hill, into the midst of the charging hounds. Her lightsabers struck like lightning bolts crackling in her fists. She spun and slashed, whirled and thrust. She dropped to one knee and whipped both blades in a low arc around her body. Flesh sizzled as bodies fell around her in a blur. Hounds screamed like men as her blades burned through muscle and bone.
The pure unadulterated ecstasy of motion flooded her senses, and she felt herself becoming a storm, imagined a whirl of wind and light surrounding her. Her blades sang back at her as she spun and twisted them around her.
And all at once, she stopped, because nothing around her lived. She glanced around in shock at the sudden stillness, and looked back up the hill. Carth rose from a crouch and finished off a kath hound that had fallen only a few feet away. Mission lay gasping on her back, pressed against the speeder. She held Lal's blaster pistol in both hands, still aiming it at a massive hound laying in a heap atop her legs.
"Mission," Lal murmured, running back up the hill. Carth was already at Mission's side, heaving the body from her legs. Zaalbar and Canderous joined them, both breathing hard. Lal knelt beside Mission and checked the girl for injuries.
"I'm f-fine," Mission panted, her eyes wide with terror. Lal helped the girl to her feet and slid an arm around her trembling shoulders.
"You did well, honey," Lal whispered, kissing Mission's sweating brow. Mission gave a stiff nod and clutched the blaster tightly against her thigh.
"What has driven these kath hounds to this madness?" Canderous wondered aloud. "It was as if something was…driving them onward. Like a fire."
"Never seen anything like it," Carth murmured, fixing a questing gaze on Lal. She suddenly realized he wasn't talking about the maddened kath hounds. She glanced down at the lightsabers, now joined into a single cylinder, hanging at her belt. "You really are a Jedi," he said breathlessly.
Lal turned away from him to stare out across the dark plains. She could feel something standing out there in the night. That billowing shadow she'd seen the night before. "Something is out there," she said quietly. "It destroyed AyVee. It's controlling the kath hounds…"
Canderous scowled dubiously at her and shook his head. "How? How is such a thing possible?"
"The Force," she whispered back, shrugging her shoulders. "Don't ask me to explain it…" She returned her gaze to the mist-drenched grasslands, feeling that presence again. Like a weight leaning against her inside a dark closet. "It's out there, and I have to stop it."
Zaalbar howled at her and shook his shaggy head. Carth nodded in agreement. "He's right, Lal. You can't go out there alone. Not until it's light. You asked us to help you, after all. We'll do this together, when the sun's up."
"Much as I hate to admit, 'Public's right," Canderous grunted. "Only a fool would go out there alone. It stinks of a trap."
"I'm not alone," she told them. She was about to add: The Force is my ally, but had no idea where that thought came from. Or perhaps, she did know. But she refused to give voice to it. "Evading a trap requires knowledge of it. And I know. I'll stay in contact with my wristcomm."
"Lal," Carth warned, "This is stupid! Don't--"
"Carth," she cut in sharply. "I'm still who I am. I didn't survive three years of Taris by being stupid, did I? Did I?"
"Then don't be stupid now!" Carth snarled back. "Dammit, Lal…the Council is gonna get you killed doing this!"
Canderous chuckled and nodded. "He said it, not me. Of course, I have already told you this…"
"Would you all stop worrying? You sound like old women. Besides, when have you ever known me to go into a situation unprepared? I have a plan."
Which was, of course, an utter lie.
Lal trudged knee-deep through the thick, clinging mists. It tugged at her feet and legs, and squeezed icy fingers against her flesh through her Slipsuit. The fog covered the land for miles, like stale custard, and she could no longer even feel the grass whispering against her legs. Looking around, she wondered if she was even on Dantooine any longer. She could have accidentally stepped through her dreams into some hazy nightmare. Or perhaps, with a single unknowing step, she had leaped far above the ground, and now walked across the clouds. An absurd thought, perhaps. But she had no indication of the ground. Not any longer.
Then, without her active knowledge, the land swept upwards in a broad, gentle slope, pulling free of the white mists. Standing at the crest of the slope was the ragged shadow; the fluttering, billowing thing that was master of the pack. Lal paused and glared up at the shadow figure. She made to climb the slope, but realized she had company. To either side of her, twenty or so feet away, there crouched two of the largest kath hounds she had yet seen. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched them. Built like mountains with squat, powerful legs, these hounds were each crowned with a pair of long, knobby horns thrusting out from either side of their massive skulls. Thick, heavy incisors stabbed forth crookedly from their silently gnashing jaws.
"They will not strike unless it is commanded," the shadow whispered, its words worming their way inside her head. Lal felt her skin prickle and shrivel as the thing spoke in her mind. She felt the urge to claw the sound of it from her ears. "Who are you to come in the night, Jedi?"
"I am Lal Sid—Lal Shan…and you…what are you?"
"A shadow. A ghost. Nothing more than a memory. A memory of anger. Of sadness. Of betrayal. Of loyalties lost. Once chained and manacled in a death ill-deserved. Now there is only this. And…hunger."
"A memory? What is that supposed to mean? Am I to believe you're some ghost?"
"Once there was life. Now…no longer. Only will. Only desire. Only power."
"Why are you controlling these creatures? Making them kill? What do you want?"
"It is the way of the Force. The Pack obeys because it is the way. Want is unknown. There is no want. There is desire. There is hunger. There is will. You have come seeking. Seeking to fill the expanse inside you. Seeking to know. Knowledge exists…"
Lal frowned at the spectral thing and took a step forward. "What? What do you know of me?"
"Only that you have been here before. That life for you ended and was begun again. Here."
Lal slowly moved closer, watching the hounds out of the corner of her eye. "You're not making any sense. Speak plainly!"
"That is not why you have come. Your answers must be twisted like the roots…like the roots of the Grove! You seek the shadow! And you will find it! For you are blinded. Blinded even as you walk…"
Lal snarled and leaped forward. Her lightsaber sprang to life, unleashing both blades. The hounds charged her with a roar, and she found herself leaping above them as their horns crashed together. She swung her legs up and over her head, tumbling in the air to land behind the creatures. She stabbed her blade forward, like a spear, burning a hole into the skull of one hound. She twisted the hilt apart into two blades, and swept downward into the thick neck of the second.
Lal stepped back as both creatures fell dead. She glanced up at the shadow and hurled herself towards it. Her blades spun in her hands, slashing bright lavender circles through the shadow's billowing body. But she cut through thin air. And the shadow remained before her. It lowered its hooded face towards her and burned down upon her with glowing red eyes.
"Your blades will find nothing here. You will find nothing here. The Grove. The Grove…"
"Damn you!" Lal cried angrily. "What are you? What are you?"
"I am the Grove…" It gave a final moist hiss within her thoughts and then disappeared. Lal jerked backwards, shock and disbelief trickling down into her belly in cold, heavy droplets. She glanced around suddenly, and saw the mists evaporating, burning away before her eyes.
Heat flooded the smooth planes of her face and she glanced up into the sky. The sun soared up from beneath the horizon like a firebird. It tore a path through the night, stripping away the darkness in an instant. It's burning arms painted the sky orange and white, and dizziness spun Lal's brain inside her skull. She gasped, feeling a wave of icy nausea spilling forth from her belly.
The sun suddenly paused in its too-swift ascent to glare down on her like a single orange eye. And then, blades of light pierced her, and she fell to the grass. She groaned and writhed, trying to stand. But her muscles were rubber.
A shadow fell across her and she reached desperately for her lightsaber…
"Lal?" Carth's voice called above her. His shape blotted the sun's glare from her eyes. "Lal, are you alright? What happened to you?"
"I don't know," she murmured, letting him help her up. She huddled weakly in his strong arms as her stomach quivered. He stood her up, but she fell heavily against him. "I feel so…so strange…"
She glanced around and saw the Sorosuub speeder hovering to a stop a few feet away from her. Zaalbar howled angrily from the top hatch of the speeder, waving his long arms above his head. Lal listened to his growling, warbling rant and she shook her head.
"No, that's absurd," she told the Wookiee.
"No, Lal," Carth said, holding her tightly to him. "You've been out here the entire night. We've been looking for you all morning. Are you hurt? Let me take a look…"
"I'm fine," she gasped, shaking her head. "How long did you say?"
"It's been…it's been at least ten hours since you took off, Lal…"
"Ten?" she cried, staggering drunkenly away from him. He caught her before she could fall. "N-no…It was only an hour…two at most…I saw it…I spoke to it…"
"It? It? You…you must have passed out."
"No. No, I must get to the Grove. That must be where it is…where the power is coming from. I have to…"
"You're not going anywhere, Lal," Carth told her. "You're in no condition to do anything! Look, I'm taking you back to the Enclave. We'll--"
"No, Carth! You're not…I'm not going back just yet! I have to get to that Grove, and that's what I intend to do! I'll bloody-well walk if I must!"
"Dammit! You…you're even more stubborn than Bastila!" he sighed angrily and glanced away. "Alright, Lal. We'll do it your way."
The Sorosuub speeder rumbled and trembled around her as Lal tried not to sleep. The dreams came every time she dozed off, it seemed, and she was tired of them. Tired of seeing Revan hiding from her, within all that armor; tired of seeing Malak innocent and loyal. And there was that woman…the Jedi. Sideen. That was what Revan had called her. Why did she have the same name as Lal?
Lal had to stop herself; Sideen was not her real name. Shan was. Perhaps the question was, why did Lal take the name of this woman? Was she…were they the same person? Lal reflexively touched her hair, remembering that she often felt uncomfortable with it being so long. That's why she pinned it up and tied it back to keep it out of her way. This woman…Sideen…her hair was almost a perfect length for what Lal did…it would never get in the way or fall over her eyes at the worst possible moment…
She tried recalling the woman's face in her dream, but could not. The details, the faces in her dreams were only clear while she was dreaming them. Not after. Never after…
Lal shook her head to clear her thoughts and gazed out the windshield. Beside her, Carth drove the heavy speeder into a series of ancient riverbeds, now grown over and run riot with long grasses. He had to tune up the repulsorlift-feedback because the ground was deceptively uneven beneath the tall grass, and sharp stones and boulders jutted suddenly up, threatening to tear the speeder's belly open. Canyon walls rose up in shades of gray and white, bleached by the sun, forming meandering channels and dry, ox-bow valleys.
In the rear cabin of the speeder, Zaalbar divided his time between piecing together AyVee's scorched parts and teaching Mission how to field-strip her new-found rifle. Luckily, most of AyVee's logic architecture and CPU shielding was intact; the droid could still communicate…well, as much as his beeps and whistles could be considered communication…but his chassis had been completely charred and many of his primary systems were fried. Lal almost felt sorry for the droid as he lay there, utterly helpless and immobile, crooning in forlorn tones.
"Don't worry, Little guy," Mission told the droid. "Big Z will make you just like new." She flipped the rifle up on her thigh and smiled. "There."
Zaalbar grunted dubiously at her confidence in his skills. Then he glanced up and snarled at her, pointing a claw down at the pile of bolts left over. She glanced down and shrugged innocently.
"I thought there was always supposed to be stuff left over when you take something apart…"
Lal shook her head. "Mission with a gun. Maybe that was another bad idea…"
Carth just flicked his eyes at her and continued driving in silence. Lal sighed and nodded. "Okay…I wonder if Canderous is ever going to get tired of sitting on the top of this bloody can…"
The Mandalorian rode up top, his leg dangling lazily down through the open hatch. Though he'd claimed it was a good vantage point to spot any more kath hounds, Lal was sure he just wanted to get away from the rest of them. Lal often thought she was the only thing keeping Canderous from killing all of them in a fit of annoyance…
She wondered how long that would last, though. The man remained a mystery to her. A psychotic killing machine with a sense of…honor? Nobility? Perhaps that wasn't so strange. She'd know a lot of killers in her time on Taris. Many of them had problems with impulse control, of course, and working as a hired gun for Davik was just the sort of release they needed. Mindless thugs, mostly, with no concept of moderation. They were like sledgehammers, terrifying only because of their ability to crudely and completely pulverize things.
But a few were truly madmen, as precise as a surgical laser, cutting away exactly what they intended and nothing more. Such men often had rituals. Routines. Soulless, calculating logic. They adhered to their codes of conduct, like Canderous seemed to. He was not a brute, even though he relished killing. She felt safe with him, so long as she followed his codes. Unfortunately, she didn't really know what those codes were. She didn't fancy the thought of what would happen if she unwittingly stepped outside his invisible boundaries.
But every man had his limits. Within those limits, they were tiny little gods, full of confidence and strength enough to snap anyone in two. But pushed outside those limits, they tended to break down. Lal knew how to push them beyond their limits. But further, in order to survive, she had learned to impose her own boundaries on them once they were outside. She doubted any of her old techniques would work on Canderous.
They barely seemed to be working on Carth.
And while Carth was certainly being pushed further and further outside his own limits, Lal was equally certain she had no interest in manipulating him. He was already being manipulated, in her estimation; by the Jedi Council, by the Republic High Command…She almost wanted to just grab Carth and take off to some alien paradise, as Mission had suggested, just to get him away from all of this death and uncertainty. To need nothing more than a beach of smooth white sand and seas of pale crystal…that would be heaven.
Instead, she had this world, with its Jedi and its nightmares and ghosts, and its madmen and tyrants…
She turned to Carth once more and watched him for a few minutes as he drove. "You're upset with me again."
"I'm not upset with you," he said, glancing briefly at her.
"You're upset."
"No. I'm not."
"Yes, you are. I know you well enough by now to know when you're upset."
He pressed a hand to his forehead and groaned. "Lal, I'm not upset, but you're driving me crazy, over here…"
"I get that a lot, actually," she chuckled, giving him a wicked grin. "However, I think you'll find that it's almost impossible to stay mad at me."
Carth sighed and released a grudging smile. "I'm not mad at you."
"Not anymore."
"Gimme a break, huh?" he grinned, "I'm trying to drive and you're distracting me."
"I can think of a much more distracting form of distraction, Carth…"
He chuckled softly. "Lal…I want some answers. I think I'm entitled. Besides…we both know you're really just trying to distract yourself…"
Her smile faded with a sigh and she stared down at her hands in her lap. "I…I suppose so. I wish I had the answers for you, Carth. There's…something in this Grove…whatever it is, it's responsible for what's happening to these animals. I intend to stop it. Beyond that, I don't know what to tell you…"
"And this is what the Council wanted you for? This is why I was sent to help Bastila rescue you? To stop…some thing from messing around with some local wildlife? Pull the other one, huh?"
"Carth…I…you…you're problem isn't with me. It's with the bloody Council. I honestly don't know what this has to do with anything…they keep feeding me a line about needing my expertise to fight Malak…but that's patently absurd. I don't remember…a…thing…" She caught herself drifting away, her mind filling with dreams…She shook her head and looked over at Carth. "You obviously know more about it than I do…About Revan and Malak…."
"Nobody really knows a whole lot about Revan. Always wore that damned mask. Malak…I heard tell that he used to be a slave. I don't know if there's any truth to it, but stories say he was trained from childhood as a pitfighter on Nal Hutta. He'd be a lethal bastard even he wasn't a Jedi. Well…former Jedi…."
"But…my face…my name…You don't recognize…you never met me?"
"Lal, you…I'd never forget your face…The uh, the Jedi, and Revan and Malak…they didn't exactly fraternize. And certainly not with the junior officers. Besides, it wasn't like I was involved with them during the entire war. I mean, my squadron had a lot of missions with the Jedi, but we were usually flying escort, or high cover. Or we'd be knocking the hell out of some target while they were ground-pounding. Not a lot of time for chit-chat when you're strapped into the cockpit of a Sweep-Wing that's just dumped steel on a target and is pulling gees off the hard deck, climbing back up the well to get back to the hangar before enemy sensors could paint you for a concussion missile…"
"So…so why did the Council want you to escort Bastila to find me?"
"Well…first thing you gotta understand is, the mission went south from the get-go. We ran afoul of a Sith interdictor. Pulled us right out of hyperspace with a gravity projector. The Endar Spire was just a frigate. Not a battle wagon. They hit us with everything they had. All the Jedi on board got killed. It was supposed to be a task force. I think there were five other Jedi on board. A unit of commandoes trained for urban ops, too. None of 'em made it out.
"When Revan and Malak turned their war against the Republic, I was running my own squadron on the Aurora Star. When we began coordinating with the Jedi on Coruscant, they gave me a promotion to Captain and put me into special ops training. I had a lot of experience from back when the Mandies were trying to invade Telos. After I made Captain, I was driving a sleek little Corellian corvette. Almost as small as the Hawk, but with a hell of a lot more firepower and armor. The Black Hammer. Technically, the Hammer was a capital ship, but she was really a fast transport. Designed for quick Down-Well hops. Fire support, troop transport, that sort of thing. I put down a lot of Jedi over the course of the first year. Sometimes, I had to go in with them on whatever op they were pulling. Usually, I'd just stay on-station and provide cover. I flew on more missions with Jedi in my hold than anybody. Right up until the Hammer got blasted out of the sky. Because of that experience, Command shipped me off to Coruscant, working with the Council directly."
"The Council was originally on Coruscant, right?" she asked with a frown.
He nodded. "The Jedi decided to move their leadership from Coruscant once Malak proved he could touch them there. Rather than have their entire leadership situated in one place, they split them up. Now…there's no one Council anywhere. But these guys…Master Vandar is just about the oldest Jedi around…Wherever he is, that's probably gonna be the senior Council of the moment if you follow my meaning."
Lal absorbed his words with a slow nod. It brought certain other things to light that had given her pause. If the Council was in hiding, and had spread its numbers across the galaxy, then it was little wonder they had no one available to deal with the Grove. It also explained why none of the Council members had embarked on this mission; they were each too important to risk. Better to leave it to an amnesiac who, if nothing else, was eminently expendable…
"I wish your droid hadn't gotten himself fried," Carth sighed, glancing down at the map on his wrist-comp. "We could use a little aerial recon right about now." Carth brought the Sorosuub to a halt and pointed up ahead, where the canyons began to narrow into a warren of ancient channels and dry waterways. "Not gonna be able to get this beast through there."
"And obviously," Lal added, "visibility will be…compromised." And so, she had come to the moment she had been dreading. A cold knot of desperation twisted her insides and sent a shrill twinge up into her chest. She sighed heavily and glanced at Carth. "This…is where we part company, I should think. I'm going to have to do this next bit on my own."
She made to get up from her seat, but Carth grabbed her wrist and stared up into her face. "Lal. That's…that's not wise. There could be an ambush laying in wait around each of those twists and bends up ahead. Hell, you could hide a whole army in there and we'd never see it…You're hell with that lightsaber of yours, but…"
"But what Carth?"
"But…think, Lal. Would you do this on Taris? It's just not smart…"
"There are a number of things I did on Taris that were not smart," she told him pointedly. He lowered his eyes and released her wrist.
"Okay. I had that coming…"
She smiled and knelt down beside his seat, taking his hand in both of hers. "Carth, I'm glad I did at least a few of those things. If I hadn't, you'd likely be dead now. And I wouldn't have the chance to…"
"To do what?"
She leaned forward and kissed him. "That."
He smiled against her lips, and let his eyes trail down from her face to her throat, to her body sheathed in glistening black. "Well…we've done that before…"
She chuckled and rose to her feet, smoothing a hand through his hair. "And we'll do that again. That is, of course, if you decided I'm not a tourist anymore…"
His brow wrinkled and he rose to stand before her. "Lal…don't do this to prove anything to me…When I said that…I was just upset…I…"
She laid her fingers over his mouth and smiled lushly. "I'm not doing it to prove anything to you, flyboy."
"Alright…fair enough. But why are you doing this, Lal?"
She wrapped her arms around herself and shrugged her shoulders. She glanced out the windshield at the maze of canyons waiting for her. "Whatever is out there, Carth, it's another piece of who I really am. Not the miserable woman who kills people and whores herself out for a piece of scum."
"And does this mean Lal's…out of the business?"
She grinned playfully and squeezed his hand. "Out of the business? Who knows? But at least, when I know myself…who I am really…well, maybe I'll be able to make an informed choice."
