However young Mission might be, she knew Taris' Lower City like the back of her hand. She lead him through the streets and corridors with ease, explaining why she chose each route, mostly to avoid encounters with the Vulkars or any of their allied gangs. Within about twenty minutes of walking, she brought them to a building which apparently contained a number of apartments, home to many aliens and the poorer of the Taris citizens.
Mission, he noted, also liked to talk. She kept up a non-stop explanation about everything in the Lower City, and soon Carth knew far more than he expected – or wanted – to know about the origins of the rivalry between the Beks and Vulkars. Although he had to admit that the "avaricious, betraying son" would probably make a decent drama holofilm.
"Kohl has a suite at Davik's estate," Mission explained. "But she never stays there unless she has to. Davik doesn't care as long as she comes when he calls." She led him to a door, which looked a great deal like the one to his own squat, if a bit more rusty.
She paused at the door. "Are you sure you're gonna help?" She looked up at him nervously.
"Mission, I despise slavery. If I can help, I will," he assured her.
She nodded. "Okay. But... Kohl can be scary sometimes. Just let me do the talking." She reached over to key in an access code to the apartment door, and the doors slid open.
She led him inside, and called out hesitantly as the doors shut behind them. "Kohl?"
"Yes, Mission?"
Carth had been expecting a Twi'lek. Someone like Zaerdra, who was certainly frightening in her own right. A shrill harpy, or a growling kinrath of a woman. Instead, the person who emerged from behind a curtain erected as a sort of wall in the one-room apartment was perfectly human, perfectly female, and perfectly identical to the frightening woman who had rescued him from Gina Lavin's thugs earlier in the day. She still wore the same clothing, though she'd shed her jacket, revealing pale, well-muscled arms that could have been carved from marble. Her hair was loose from its ponytail, hanging around her ears and collarbone.
The two humans stared at each other for a moment, surprised. Then her eyes flickered down to the young Twi'lek standing nervously in front of her. "Why is he here? Are you bringing me presents?"
Carth's eyebrows went vertical, and Mission squinted, confused. "You know each other?"
Kohl's face showed faint amusement. "We've met." She took a step back, and looked at both of them with a penetrating gaze. "Now... why is he here?"
There was an uncomfortable pause, while Carth and Mission looked at each other.
"Don't make me ask again."
"I'm here to help," Carth said, at the same time Mission blurted, "Gamorreans took Zaalbar!"
She looked between the two of them. Kohl didn't frown; instead, her face went flat. Something dangerous glinted in her eyes. "Where? They've dared come up from the sewers?"
The Twi'lek girl turned a paler shade of blue. "Um... no. That's where we were," she whispered, looking at the floor.
The assassin closed her eyes and nodded. "Ah." She turned away with her hands on her hips, and was silent for a long moment. "Didn't I tell you not to enter the Undercity?"
Carth shifted uncomfortably. That feeling was building again, like he was trapped in a room with a vicious animal, though Kohl's voice never changed its tone. He didn't know how Mission could handle it, being the subject of attention. The young Twi'lek swallowed nervously.
Suddenly, Kohl whipped around with preternatural speed, seizing Mission by the jaw and slamming her back against the wall of the room, causing the youngster to gasp. "I asked you a question!"
"Hey, don't-"
She halted him with an upraised finger and a seething look. "Your survival depends on me not noticing you, Republic, so you stand fast and shut up!"
She turned back to Mission, snarling. "I've put myself between Davik and you. Debased myself, so that you don't end up sold to one of his associates as a joy-girl! And you walk right into slavers' hands, and take Zaalbar with you? Is that what you're telling me?"
Kohl shoved herself away from the girl, turning away. Tears flowed freely down Mission's face, and Carth felt deeply sorry for the youngster. "I'm sorry! I-I just wanted to show you that I was old enough to handle it, that you could-"
She never got a chance to finish, as Kohl spun, her open palm catching her on a blue-tinted cheek with a crack like a blaster shot. Mission cried out, bouncing off the wall and falling to the floor. Carth began to move, but stopped. He wasn't sure what he should do... or what he could do. He knew instinctively that the warrior woman could take him apart with ease, but he couldn't stand by and let her beat Mission to a pulp.
Fortunately, Kohl merely stood above the girl, menacing, glaring down at her with harsh anger. "You're old enough when you clean up your own messes, when you stop depending on Zaalbar and me to protect you from your own stupidity. You're old enough when you stop trying to prove that you're old enough."
Mission propped herself up into a sitting position, sobbing, afraid to look up. "I want to clean up my mess. I want to help Zaalbar! I'll do whatever you say... Please! I'll do anything I have to, I just want Zaalbar back!"
Kohl took a step back, and some of the anger melted away, to be replaced with... approval? Carth didn't get a chance to tell, as she spun away from them, striding to a large locker on the wall. "Get up," she commanded, and Mission scrambled to her feet, a bright purple spot marking her right cheek.
Opening the locker, she pulled out a blaster rifle, checking the charge. For a moment, Carth feared she was going to shoot them, but she flipped the weapon over and handed it stock-first to Mission.
That flat, emotionless stare was locked on the young Twi'lek. "Make sure your energy shield is charged."
Mission's tears of guilt and fright turned to tears of relief. "Yes... yes, thank you, Kohl, I'll help-" She reached out and took hold of the rifle.
The older woman tugged on the weapon, causing Mission to stumble forward. She leaned down and hissed in the teenager's face. "Don't thank me. Do you think I'm giving you this for show? That those slavers are going to give up a prize Wookiee just because I tell them to? We're going to kill them, Mission. And you're going to help." Kohl shoved her away, and Mission scrambled back a step, looking down at the rifle she held as its significance finally sunk in. "You can be an adult," the assassin said, "or you can be innocent. Not both."
Kohl turned away to prepare herself, strapping on a back scabbard with a pair of vibroblades, and a belt stocked with a number of knives, and a pair of small blasters. "You coming along, Republic?" she asked, slipping on a pair of black synthetic gloves, then tying back her hair with a piece of cord fetched from her pocket.
He glared at her back. "Mission said you could use another blaster."
"Fine." She turned to face him, geared for war. She tossed him an energy shield, and he nearly dropped it while catching it. "Don't expect payment."
"I won't," he sneered. "I'm a soldier, not a mercenary."
His implicit comparison drew no reaction from her at all.
Kohl walked at a quick pace, and Carth and Mission needed to scramble to keep up with her. Mission understandably hung back from the woman, and Carth walked beside the teenager. She played with the settings on her rifle, gripping the stock and the barrel.
He leaned slightly toward her. "Have you ever fired one of those before?" he asked quietly.
Since being handed the weapon she'd appeared to be in a sort of daze; now, she looked up at Carth, slightly offended. "Yes! I'm not a k-" She halted in mid-word, realizing what she'd been about to say. Ahead, Kohl's head had turned slightly. Mission swallowed and ducked her head. "Yes," she replied in a lower tone. "Kohl made me learn at the shooting range on Davik's estate. Those were pistols though."
Carth nodded. "You'll be okay. Although..." He reached over, and folded down the front grip of the rifle, where she could grasp instead of the barrel, which would have heated up and burned her hand. If anything, the youngster blushed a deeper blue.
"The rifle has a powerful emitter. It'll hit farther and harder, but it'll kick more than the pistols you're used to." He spoke to her like an old hand. He was bothered by old memories, remembering taking Dustil behind the house to teach him to shoot, much to Morgana's annoyance. He looked down at the teenager, who happened to be the same age as Dustil when he'd lost him. "You can hang back, give us covering fire," he told her softly.
"No," she replied. She gripped her weapon more tightly. "I got Big Z into this mess, I'll help get him out."
Ahead, Kohl said nothing, although Carth had no doubt she'd heard every word.
They came to the end of the wide corridor, where they found a large cargo elevator, the primary access to the Undercity. Unfortunately, being the primary access, it was guarded by a Sith trooper.
Carth tensed, his hand nearing his blaster; he swallowed nervously as he saw that the trooper wasn't alone. A quartet of auto-turrets had been placed around the elevator. The droid intelligence embedded into the turrets caused them to swivel and target the group, their blaster barrels aligning menacingly.
"Halt! Access to the Undercity has been restricted by the governor," warned the Sith. He left his weapon hanging at his side, evidentially considering the turrets to be firepower enough. "You'll need proper authorization papers to be permitted access."
"Tracker team," Kohl replied. She dipped into a pouch on her belt, producing a folded sheaf of papers and handing them to the guard.
The Sith took the papers, making note of the authentication seal. He looked at her, and at Carth, lingering on the soldier for an uncomfortable second. Finally, he jerked his head toward Mission.
"What is this, a school trip?"
"She's my apprentice," Kohl replied flatly.
"A bit young for hunting amongst rakghouls, isn't she?"
The woman raised an eyebrow. "She doesn't think so." Behind her, Mission shuffled her feet.
The guard looked back and forth between them, and again at Carth, who forced himself not to react. After a moment, he handed the papers back to Kohl. "Fine. Whatever. Enjoy your little family trip."
The guard waved them past, and the four droid turrets turned to aim back down the corridor. The three walked into the elevator, and Kohl stabbed the down button. The big metal doors closed, and the elevator began its long descent to the Undercity.
Carth looked at Kohl suspiciously. "You have valid Sith papers?"
She glanced back at him, completely ignoring his vague accusation. "The Sith I took them from didn't need them anymore."
He was about to ask her how likely it was that one woman could "take" papers from a five-man standard armoured Sith patrol when Mission punched him lightly in the side. He looked at her, and she shook her head, seemingly reading his thoughts.
His question was forgotten a minute later, when the doors to the elevator opened and he was hit with his first taste of Undercity air. It was rancid, smelling of dust, rot, sweat, and rust. It was astonishingly dark, and the air itself seemed heavier and oppressive.
Kohl led them out of the elevator, walking confidently through the darkness. After a few moments Carth eyes adjusted to the gloom, and he found himself looking out onto what appeared to be a village. Primitive tents were set up, using wreckage as structure and old, rotting fabric as covering. Dark shapes moved around the village, and Carth realized that they were being watched, as the glitter of eyes could be seen nervously ducking behind the tents and other wreckage as they passed.
"What in the galaxy is this?"
"Taris does two things with criminals," Mission replied softly. Her eyes moved over the nervous refugees with sympathy. "Either executes 'em outright, or banishes 'em down here. Once you're here, you aren't allowed back up... ever. There are families who have been down here for generations."
"What kind of crimes deserve this?"
"It doesn't take much," she admitted. "The nobles would stuff their own mothers down here if they thought they could get away with it."
He shook his head, appalled.
The three came to what appeared to be the outskirts of the village, tall walls built from scrap metal, looking far sturdier than most of the construction of the place. Briefly, Carth wondered what kind of creatures roamed beyond those walls, for the outcasts to place so much effort into building the walls over the construction of their homes. Set into the north side of the wall was a gate, operated by lever, watched over by a bearded man dressed in rags. The man watched them approach uneasily, and Carth wondered if the reaction was for anyone he didn't recognize, or something special due to the group's leader.
"Let us out," the assassin commanded. The gatekeeper scrambled to obey, the big metal grating which served as a door tipping to the ground like a drawbridge.
As Kohl led them out into the wastes beyond the outcast village, Carth quickly noticed that if the village was purgatory, the Undercity wastes definitely qualified as hell. The dirt they walked on hadn't seen the sky in centuries, with low-light plants, fungus and moss clinging to life. Metal wreckage was strewn everywhere, adding texture to what was otherwise a flat landscape.
The assassin had drawn her blaster; she scanned in each direction as they walked, picking up the pace. Despite himself, he was impressed by how silently she could move; the gravel and metallic bits crunched beneath his feet, but she passed over the ground like a ghost. Some of what she knew had already been passed on to Mission who, while not as proficient as the older woman, was also very quiet. Carth felt let a drunk bantha next to the two females.
Mission had fallen back to walk beside him, and she kept her rifle at the ready. "Be careful... keep an eye out for rakghouls."
"What do they look like?"
"They're mutated humans. Really ugly, sorta greyish... with claws, and one eye. They claw, and bite. The disease is contagious, and it can mutate you into one of them... you don't want to see if happen, trust me. Mega-gross."
"There's no cure?"
"Only the one on your hip," Kohl stated coldly from ahead of them.
"And you explore down here for fun?" Carth demanded of the teenager.
Mission shrugged. "Rakghoul disease only affects humans. Big Z can deal with a pack of them pretty easy."
Her comments didn't ease him any, and he found himself watching the darkness, looking for these sinister monsters. Fortunately, they weren't accosted during the walk to the sewer entrance, a large piece of metal grating with a lever. Kohl pulled the lever, and with the groan of old, unmaintained motors, the piece of grating slid upward. Carth risked a glance from his guard position, seeing a ladder which extended downward into the sewers.
The three slid down the ladder, and Carth found himself in a complex of ductwork and pipes and grated floors. Water could be heard trickling, and the air was heavy and oppressively warm. The smell was horrible; he nearly choked, but since neither female was complaining, he fought down the reaction, trying to breathe slowly though clenched teeth.
The sewers were equipped with lighting, so it was slightly easier to see, not that there was much more to look at. The tunnels seemed to stretch in all directions.
Kohl turned to Mission. "Can you find your way back?"
The teenager nodded, and stepped forward to lead them.
"Draw your blasters," Kohl commanded. "There are rakghouls down here as well... and perhaps Vulkars, and the Gamorreans. If you see something smaller than a Wookiee moving, kill it."
They advanced through the tunnels with more care than in the Undercity, since there was plenty of corners for enemies to hide behind. Carth took up rear guard, watching carefully.
It was as they passed through a cross-tunnel that he saw them; down the shaft, a series of grey-headed beasts, devoid of hair, with skin that seemed slick with some kind of grease. A single gleaming eye glared at him from each head, and he heard what sounded like heavy breathing, like a tired ronto.
"What in the galaxy-"
When he muttered, it was like a spell was broken over the creatures. One made a low, gurgling roar, and then bounded forward on all fours, claws clattering on the grating. Suddenly Carth was glad he was holding his blasters; he raised them and fired without hesitation into the group of creatures. Plasma seared into pallid flesh, and the creatures howled with rage and pain.
He kept up the fire, and the beasts plowed forward into the onslaught with little heed to their own safety. Kohl stepped up beside him, her own blasters adding to his own.
The last of the creatures fell just as it swung a claw at him. The soldier danced back, and the claw scraped into the metal where he had been standing just as Kohl fired a shot which cored completely through its head. The mutant collapsed onto the floor, and though its brain had been reduced to steam and ash, the body still quivered on the floor for long seconds after its death.
Carth felt the bile rise in his throat as he saw that the creature still wore clothing – scraps of cloth that he recognized as matching the rags worn by the Undercity villagers.
Kohl looked at the body with impassive interest. "That is a rakghoul." She looked at him. "Killing them is a mercy. Now you know why."
She turned to Mission and scowled at the teenager, who had stood back, clutching the blaster rifle she held. "Did I give you that weapon as a decoration?" she berated. "Make yourself useful next time."
Mission blushed, ashamed, but didn't try to argue.
Their progress from that point on was easier. Within a few more minutes walk, Mission announced that they'd reached the point where she and Zaalbar had been attacked. Kohl took point again; advancing further into the tunnels, they came across an old door, one of the few they'd passed in the sewers, and more unusual due to the glowing lock indicator.
The older woman leaned against the door, listening. Carth waited patiently, while Mission looked on with hopeful eyes.
"I hear them," she said. "I can't make out the words." She glanced at them. "Activate your shields. This is it." They obeyed, and a blue glow surrounded their bodies, adding slightly to the dim light in the tunnel.
"This is an old lock," Mission said. "I don't know if I can pick it with the tools I have."
"Don't bother," replied Kohl, drawing a simple knife from a sheath on her belt. "There's an easier way to open a locked door." Calmly, she raised the knife, and with the metal pommel... she knocked.
Carth was certain she was out of her mind.
Just as he was about to say so, the large durasteel doors slid apart vertically. Standing on the other side was a big, round Gamorrean, wearing ruddy fibre armour and carrying the large battle axe favoured by the brutish species.
The Gamorrean's piggish eyes opened wide as he realized who stood in front of him.
"Hi," Kohl began conversationally. "Let's talk." Her hand shot up, sinking her knife deep into the thick neck of the slaver. She gave a twist and yanked it out, letting a spray of blood emerge. The Gamorrean dropped with a thud, convulsing.
The others in the room squealed with panic and scrambled for their weapons. The assassin jumped over their fallen comrade, her knife already whistling through the air to embed itself into the temple of a Gamorrean just starting to rise. With the singing of metal, her vibroblades were in her hands, calling for blood.
Carth slipped in behind her, his blasters raised. Picking a target, he squeezed off a number of shots in rapid succession, the red bolts splattering on the rusted metal around the head of a slaver who'd been looking to join the fray around Kohl. The big alien snorted and ducked, using his big axe for what little cover it provided. Beside him, Mission opened fire with her blaster rifle. She was barely big enough to handle the kick of the plasma emitter, and her first shots went wide, but as she set herself and took hold of the front grip the way Carth had showed her her accuracy improved.
Carth lowered his sights, and fired a cluster of bolts into his target's knees... the Gamorrean screeched in pain and collapsed, dropping his axe. The pilot ended his pain a moment later with a shot straight between the green creature's horns.
Kohl flashed in and out of sight among the slavers trying to surround her, her blades spinning in her hands as if they were extensions of her body. Ducking under a horizontal swing, she hamstrung her attacker, causing him to collapse backwards. Another tried to split her in two with a powerful overhead blow; the axe whistled past her, bouncing off the steel floor, even as she spun and drove her left blade up into the Gamorrean's armpit.
Mission had managed to pin down one of the slavers behind a table, which the Gamorrean – showing unusual intelligence – had overturned to serve as a shield. Carth didn't think he was worth worrying about, until he saw a grenade arc up and over the table at them.
"Mission, down!" He dove at her, knocking her aside in a flying tackle that carried them beside the door. The energy shield she wore stung him, but he managed to get her out of the way of the incoming grenade. The lethal ball hit the ground and rolled just past the entrance to explode, sending shrapnel flying in all directions. Thankfully the door shielded them from the deadly metal.
The explosion seemed to shake the entire level; the concussion hit them just as they hit the floor, knocking the breath of Carth's lungs and turning the world upside down. He managed to roll sideways enough to not land on top of the teenager, but they both hit the ground heavily, and Mission groaned with dizziness.
Carth heard grunting, and opened his eyes to see no less than four Gamorreans standing over him, all with an axe raised. He raised his blasters and fired at the centre of the grouping, hearing a squeal of pain. Then the deck plating he lay upon shook as the big alien fell to the ground. He sat up, shaking his head and blinking until he merely saw two of everything.
One Gamorrean was ugly enough, he decided.
Beside him, Mission groaned. "You okay?" he asked.
"Someone tell that Hutt to stop singing," she muttered. He chuckled as she sat up, rubbing her head. "Are we done?"
He looked up to see the last slaver sliding off the end of Kohl's vibroblade, with some assistance from her foot. The bodies of the others were arrayed around her, blood starting to pool around her boots. The assassin turned, surveying the destruction, and apparently not liking what she saw, stabbed one of the bodies in the chest. The alien jerked, then collapsed again with a wheeze, no longer merely playing possum. Kohl yanked out her blade, satisfied.
Carth's mouth went dry. "Apparently." Why do I feel like I would have been more useful holding her coat?
Wiping and sheathing her blades, Kohl walked towards them. She nodded at the large door which made up the wall on one side of the room. "Is that where they put him?"
"I think so," Mission replied, jumping to her feet, dashing to the door with a new sense of urgency. She banged on the door with the butt of her rifle. "Big Z! You in there?" A muffled roar and a decidedly stronger pounding echoed back. "We'll have the door open in a sec, just hang on a minute!" Blue fingers fiddled with the door controls.
"Can you open it? Or will we have to blast the door open?" Kohl asked.
"It's an old-style magnetic lock. I could cut the power to unlock it, but then the doors won't move." Mission looked around, frowning. "There should be a key. It might be on one of the slavers."
Kohl nodded. She looked at the pilot. "Onasi, check that locker for the key."
He shot her a quizzical look, but obeyed, holstering his blasters and walking over to the footlocker by the door. Popping it open, he found only a few grenades and a medkit, which he pocketed.
The two females had gone to rifle through the pockets of the dead Gamorreans. Kohl searched with cold efficiency, but Mission screwed up her face with distaste. She couldn't keep a grin off her face as she came up with a handful of credits, though.
As the Twi'lek lifted the vest of one of the largest of the slavers, the alien suddenly moved, a giant hand reaching up to seize her throat, cutting off her shriek of surprise. Carth jumped up, his blasters ready, but Mission was in the way.
There was the high-pitched notes of blaster fire, and the Gamorrean collapsed back onto the ground, his chest full of holes from Mission's rifle. From point-blank range, there had been no way she could have missed. She held her throat, choking at air, looking at the corpse with giant eyes.
Blinking, she looked up at Kohl, who had her blades out, but hadn't immediately intervened. Carth saw the lack of surprise on the assassin's face, and realized that she'd known the Gamorrean had been faking the entire time. That she'd engineered the situation to force Mission to react.
Kohl nodded at the youngster.
No longer innocent.
To say that Zaalbar was pleased to be released from captivity would be an understatement. As soon as Mission opened the lock, the Wookiee had exploded out and swept her up into a hug, causing the teenager to drop her rifle and disappear, laughing, into a mass of fur.
After that he put her down, and nearly prostrated himself in front of Kohl. He clearly expected a violent reaction from her, either physically or verbally, and was surprised when it didn't happen. She just locked him with that laser-like stare, arms crossed, radiating dangerous disapproval.
Then she spun on her heel and walked away.
The Wookiee and Twi'lek looked at each other, clearly surprised. Mission stepped forward hesitantly. "Uh... Kohl? Are we going back up-city?"
"If you want to." The woman didn't bother to turn around to answer, bending down to retrieve her knife from the dead Gamorrean it was still embedded in.
The Twi'lek frowned, confused by the answer. "I... kinda promised Carth that I'd take him back to the Beks. He needs their help and-"
"You do whatever you want, Mission." Kohl twisted her head to look at her. "You're an adult, you don't need my approval." Sheathing her knife, she turned and walked out of the room without a glance backward.
Mission watched her go, looking nearly broken. Carth felt sorry for the poor girl, and a deep stab of animosity for the woman who had abandoned her. Zaalbar growled in sympathy, laying a huge furry paw on her shoulder.
Drawing her arm across her face, she roughly wiped away the tears which had begun to roll down her face. Shrugging off Zaalbar's paw, she picked up her blaster rifle from the floor, shouldering the strap. "Come on, we should get to the Beks before all their swoops are spoken for." She turned and walked resolutely to the door, unconsciously imitating Kohl as she did so.
Carth and Zaalbar watched her go, then looked at each other, Carth nearly straining his neck to look up at the big creature. The Wookiee warbled something forlorn.
"I have no idea what you just said, but I think I probably agree anyway." Shaking his head, he moved to follow.