Disclaimer: Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic II and all of it's planets and character are owned by LucasArts and Obsidian Entertainment. I will be using quite of bit of in game dialogue in this story, which will be marked in italics. In short: It ain't mine. Thanks for letting me borrow it.
Collusions
Chapter One: Inception
The docking official stood nervously in front of the hanger bay door, shifting his weight from one foot to the other like an anxious child. He glanced sideways at the man standing next to him, trying to draw his gaze. The man stood solemnly, his stance militaristic, and he made no indication that the dock officer even existed. Finally, the official looked away and sighed loudly.
It had been nearly two hours since an unknown freighter had requested permission to dock at Peragus II, and he had been waiting here for nearly that amount of time. It wouldn't have been so bad if the Peragian Security Council hadn't decided to send a taskforce down to meet the ship. The members of the squad were notorious for being about as cheerful as the dead, and the silence that filled the area did nothing to counter that claim.
Unknown ships were often viewed with suspicion, but there had been no need to send down an entire unit. The official quietly nudged his silent neighbor and whispered,
"When do you think they'll get here, Tarel? If they have the astrogation charts, it shouldn't be taking them this long."
Tarel turned to look at him, irritation showing in his eyes. He waved his hand and answered offhandedly,
"Well, our sensors registered a space battle close to this sector. If this ship was involved, it'll probably have taken some damage. It takes time to limp into port."
"Ah." The official nodded, and Tarel went back to staring at the metal walls. The official looked around again, his gaze resting on each and every member of the squad. Stillness filled the room again, and even his breathing seemed unnaturally loud. If the ship didn't arrive soon, he decided, he was going to go insane.
There was never a lot of free time when you worked at the Peragus Mining facility: Coorta had come to terms with this long ago. Normally, one drink and a few hours of sleep was all one could manage before the next shift began. Work on the shelf for a few hours, toss down a couple ration bars while the foreman wasn't looking, then back to the station for the beginning of the cycle again.
It wasn't a great life, but it was better then other things he could be doing. And when he was one of the larger, more intimidating members of the workforce, well, that made it all the better. There were things he could get away with that someone else couldn't.
Like calling in for extra workers when the shelf was slow, and asking for that extra detonator when supplies were low.
And it helped him learn things that he wouldn't have otherwise known. Like where the underbelly of the Facility was; where betting and black market trading was as commonplace as the pieces of Peragus II that floated past the barrack's windows. Growing up in the slums in an Outer Rim world had shown him that the only way to survive was outside of the law.
He was at home there, with the spice addicts struggling to hide their afflictions, and the ex-Exchange enforcers looking to make a quick credit. He made connections, contacts, acquaintances… but never friends. Friends were an unnecessary risk.
After all, they could betray you, without warning, at any moment. The nice thing about the people Coorta surrounded himself with was that he could trust them to be dishonest. That way, he always knew to watch his back.
He could have had a different job. He could have been something other then a lowly miner, ordered to put his life on the line for a few shipments of fuel. But the truth was, he didn't really mind. He had a nice set-up on Peragus, and it would have to take a great deal of money to persuade him to leave.
Security Lieutenant Jedo Tarel strode through the passages of the freighter, scanning for any sign of life. The ship has taken its share of damage, with the telltale signs of carbon scouring and vibroblade slashes dotting the inner walls. A good chunk of the ship was simply gone, a testament to a battle gone ill. He slowly turned over a large piece of metal he had found in the rubble and ruefully tossed it aside.
It would cost a small fortune to repair the ship, and he was not looking forward to having to collect the payment from the occupants. If they were even alive.
Tarel continued down the corridor until he reached what he guessed to be the main room. The lights were flickering on and off, and he couldn't really tell where he was going. He took a step forward and nearly tripped over something soft. Stifling a string of curses, he flipped on his light and searched the area near his feet.
The beam shone on the form of a robed woman who lay crumpled on the ground, surrounded by several broken droids.
He quickly called out to the medical officer who stood a few lengths behind him and slowly removed the woman's hood, revealing an aged face. The medical officer pushed her way through the debris and was almost instantly as Tarel's side, her dark hands already feeling along the woman's neck for a pulse. After a few moments, she looked up at Tarel wearily.
"Get someone to take this woman to med bay and check her for life signs." She ordered curtly, and Tarel nodded.
As he ordered the remaining personnel to carry the woman out, the medical officer disappeared into the hallway leading away from the cockpit. After making sure the old woman was taken care of, Tarel stood up and followed her.
On the way there he nearly tripped over a deactivated utility droid. This time he was not able to control his mouth, and he swore loudly, pushing the droid aside with his leg. He caught up with the medical officer as she turned into the ship's med bay and stopped, eyes widening in shock. She turned towards Tarel and motioned towards the lone medical bed.
A young woman lay on it, as still as death. Cuts from shrapnel dotted her body, and several long cuts ran down her arms, flecked with dried blood. Tarel looked back at the medical officer and met her gaze. The officer nodded, then dug into her medical pouch. Pulling out a medpac, she jabbed it into the woman with the practiced tension of an expert. Tarel reached for his comlink and roughly switched it on.
"Tarel to Med Bay. We have a survivor."
"Only one survivor, placed in the kolto tank for recovery. The carbon scoring on the vessel suggests it was in a battle, but no indication of who fired on it..."
The medical officer leaned towards the woman floating in the kolto tank and grimaced, dark hair falling into her eyes. It had been nearly half a day since the patient had been brought up to med bay, and she still showed no signs of coming round. The officer turned to the computer terminal that sat next to her and continued to report.
"Aside from the lone survivor, we recovered an old woman, no life signs. There was also a protocol droid and a utility droid on board - sent both down to maintenance while security sorts through the other items on the ship."
She sighed, and quickly brought up the medical history of the patient. The patient's body was tinted a sickly yellow, an effect of the kolto, but the cuts on her skin were knitting up at an amazing rate, leaving new pink flesh behind. The woman was healing extraordinarily fast, and although the officer was relieved that the wounds hadn't been life threatening, she had her suspicions.
"She could be a Jedi, but we won't know for sure until we get the transmission back from the Republic. If the survivor is a Jedi, that would account for the recovery rate... but I'm more concerned that a Jedi here may cause trouble, some of the miners are already starting to argue about what to do with her."
With another sigh, she shut off the holorecorder. The computer terminal returned to displaying the patient's life signs, beeping regularly. The officer took one last long look at the woman floating in the tank, then quickly turned around and left her.
The maintenance room was empty, devoid of both life and sound. Dim lights flickered on and off, illuminating the deactivated mining droids placed around the room with an eerie glow.
Footsteps sounded outside the large sliding doors; the security officer making his final rounds of the night. Then the noises faded away, and silence stretched throughout the room.
Suddenly, the noise of whirring machinery sounded, unnaturally loud in the darkened room. The pounding of heavier footsteps started to reverberate against the metal walls. Then, two glowing red eyes appeared in the darkness, taking in their surroundings with a cold, practiced glance. A chilling voice emerged from the depths of the shadows.
"Statement: All systems operational."
Author's Note: This is a rough version of an idea I've been bouncing around for a while. I know it's rough, so if there are any grammer or fact errors, please let me know. Like it? Tell me. Hate it? Tell me how I can improve. Don't have any feelings either way? Tell me what you want to see happening, or just say hello. I would really appreciate it. And yeah, I know the grammer is weird. It's just my writing style. Love it or hate it.