The hidden stairwell had gotten the two women away from the swoop track, but unfortunately it did not extend up to the Upper City. Kohl led them through a labyrinthine series of tunnels and more stairs, until Bastila was so turned around she wasn't sure she'd be able to find her way back. The amnesiac woman didn't seem inclined to explain her destination, and Bastila was fearful of asking. So she followed, and hoped she was doing the right thing.
Finally they came to the end of a tunnel, and Kohl opened a door, which was more of a hatch, embedded into the wall. Inside was a dark shaft, and the sound of rumbling machinery. She ducked her head inside, then quickly pulled back, as a wall of metal descended past.
"Just in time," she commented. "Be ready to jump!"
"What? But-"
She squawked as Kohl seized her wrist and pulled her through the hatch, just as the object had cleared way. She found herself falling, her Jedi reflexes kicking in, using the Force to slow her descent, and she landed on top of what she recognized as a large industrial lift. Kohl landed beside her, making no more noise than she, and Bastila was astonished to realize that the other woman had done so without using the Force at all.
Of course, now she found herself on top of a giant rumbling box, currently descending toward the Lower City. "What are we-"
Kohl gestured angrily for silence; creeping over to a panel on the roof of the elevator, she lifted it slightly, peeking inside. She waved Bastila over, pointing. She followed, and when she looked inside the elevator, she saw an entire company of armed Sith troops. Her eyes went wide with alarm.
The raven-haired woman let the panel fall back into place carefully, then sat down, as if she lacked a care in the world. Bastila watched with a barely-concealed mix of awe, fear, and amusement.
After half a minute more of travel, the elevator came to a rumbling stop. From on top, the two could hear the doors open, and the Sith troops empty out with the sound of stomping armoured feet. When the door was heard closing again, Kohl leaned over and lifted the panel, confirming that no-one else had gotten on.
"Right, then." She stood, and walked to a corner of the elevator, peeling up yet another panel, reaching inside to dig around amongst a variety of exposed wires. She selected a pair, cut them out with her knife, and then touched them together. The lift rumbled back into action, climbing upwards.
Trying not to think about how Revan was known to be fond of and adept with machinery, Bastila glanced upward at the dark shaft which stretched above them. "Should we climb down?"
Kohl shook her head. "No, we don't know who will be outside the lift when it opens up top. We let it open, see who reacts, then we drop."
"We won't be crushed against the top of the shaft?"
"That would be embarrassing, yes." Kohl said no more, and Bastila found herself fighting back even more worry.
Kohl opened the panel to the inside even as the lift ground to a halt a minute later, and the elevator stopped far short of the top of the shaft, to Bastila's relief. The older woman's caution proved reasonable, as when the elevator doors opened seemingly of their own accord, they could hear a tinny voice query from outside. After a moment, a trooper in full armour advanced cautiously into the lift.
The next sound the trooper made was a yelp as Kohl dropped onto him; he only staggered as she glanced off him from above, but she didn't let up, landing as easily as a cat, seizing his helmet and driving his head into the elevator's side wall with brutal force. Dazed, he was unable to even lift his blaster as she did it again, and when he collapsed to his knees, she wrapped her arms around his helmet and twisted. The Sith flopped bonelessly to the floor.
"You can come down now."
Bastila hopped down apprehensively. The vicious fighting style Kohl sported was far different from what she was used to, and was unlike anything she expected a Jedi to use, current or former.
"Could you use his armour as a disguise?" she suggested, looking down at the limp form.
"It'd take too long. Help me." Together, they picked up the trooper by the arms, and carefully peeking out through the elevator doors, dragged the body outside. The corner of the city they emerged into was mercifully free of casual traffic. The two pulled the dead trooper over to the side of the Upper City platform, and with zero remorse, Kohl pitched the body over the retaining barrier to enjoy a long drop to the Lower City.
"That'll confuse them for a bit, if they even bother looking for him. Come."
Kohl had evidentially planned her exploits well in advance; ducking around a corner, they came upon a speeder parked nearby. She hopped in and fired the vehicle up, and within moments the two were soaring through the skies amongst the normal Tarisian traffic.
Bastila observed her escort as she guided them through the traffic, keeping their speed down so as not to attract attention. "So how did you meet Carth Onasi?" she asked hesitantly.
Kohl glanced sideways at her passenger, and her lips quirked slightly. "The usual way. He caught my interest in a bar."
Bastila nearly exploded at that announcement, but Kohl took some small pity on her and explained the circumstances of their meeting while manoeuvring them to the apartment building where the others waited. The Jedi was pleased to hear that they already had a plan to get off the planet, though the other woman didn't immediately go into explanations.
Landing on the roof of the building, the two had soon taken a lift down to the floor where Carth's hideout was located. They received sideways glanced from the aliens which passed them in the halls, but were unconcerned about being reported. Keying-in the agreed-upon passcode Mission had hacked the door to use, Kohl opened the door to the apartment.
Inside, Canderous sat in the chair furthest from the door, facing them, his blaster nearby should he need it. Carth was stretched out on a bed nearby, his head rising up at their entrance, a medpack attached to his arm. Mission and Zaalbar sat nearby, the youngster playing with her Pazaak deck and Zaalbar fiddling with the internals of T3. The little droid twittered a greeting as they entered.
"Carth! Thank the Force," Bastila exclaimed, walking toward him.
He winced as he pushed himself up on the bed. "Bastila! You're alive! Finally, things are looking up."
Kohl looked over the two battered men. "What in the galaxy happened to you?"
"Sith Dark Jedi wannabe," grumbled Canderous. He raised his cigarra to his lips for a puff, wincing as the fresh skin around his mouth stretched. Though the Mandalorian had been far more badly injured than Carth, his regeneration implant had dealt with the injuries much faster than the kolto treatments, to the pilot's profound annoyance.
Kohl stood in front of the pilot, arms crossed. "Are you going to be able to fly?"
"Some burns, bruises, and cracked ribs. The kolto's doing its work. I won't be running any marathons, but I can fly."
She nodded, satisfied. "Mission." The girl looked up from where she was watching Zaalbar tweaking his bowcaster on the nearby workbench. "You and Zaalbar head to the estate and wait for me in my quarters. We can't show up all at once, but if you arrive early it won't be suspicious."
Mission stood, pocketing her cards and slinging her rifle over her shoulder like she'd carried one all her life. "Right. Come on, Big Z. Maybe you can get one last raid in on Davik's kitchen." The Wookiee yowled an exasperated reply, but picked up his own weapon and followed the Twi'lek out of the apartment.
There was silence in the room for a few moments. Canderous blew a stream of smoke, causing the assassin to glare at him, but he paid no attention. "How long do you think we have?"
"I don't know. Three, maybe four hours at most. Gadon and the other gangs will tie up the Sith in the Lower City for a while, but eventually they're going to figure out who the crime boss of Taris' refers to, and come knocking on Davik's door. We need to be there first."
"The medpack will have fixed my ribs in about half an hour. Can we wait that long?" Carth asked.
Kohl nodded. "You two will head out first. She and I will arrive in about an hour. That'll give Mission and Zaalbar time to get to the estate, and it's a believable amount of time for me to have escaped the Sith and subdued our Jedi friend here."
Bastila started. She had watched the conversation go on, obviously displeased at being out of the loop. "Subdued? What?"
Kohl reached into her pocket and pulled out a neural disruptor, and Bastila looked at the device with a new sense of dread. "Put this on."
"What? No!" Bastila took a step away. Alarmed, Carth levered himself to an upright position despite the pain in his sides.
The other woman rolled her eyes. "This collar is disabled. It's a necessary cover... since you decided to mouth off to the whole planet that you were a Jedi. If you were just a Republic officer, it wouldn't be necessary, but there's no way Davik is going to believe I could contain you otherwise."
"Contain me? What are you talking about?"
"That's the rest of the plan. Davik has the Ebon Hawk, the ship we need to get away. Canderous is going to introduce Carth, and mention how he helped him get the codes. That's enough to get them inside the compound. But for you – since Carth insists on bringing you along – the only way we'll get you in is if Davik thinks I fetched you to use as a bargaining chip with the Sith. Understand?"
"You expect me to put me back into that... thing, believing it disabled just because you say so?"
Kohl's eyes narrowed, and she stepped into the Jedi's personal space, growling into her face from a hand's breadth away. "If I wanted you in a working collar, I wouldn't need to trick you."
"It's a good plan," Carth offered. "And pretty much the only one we have at the moment."
"How much do you know about these two?" she demanded, turning to him and removing herself from Kohl's intimidating proximity. "I've just spent two days in one of those collars, and I'm not keen on putting myself back into one based on a couple of strangers!"
"We already have the codes, Bastila. They've come through this far." He shook his head. "Don't let your ego get in the way-"
"I'm your commanding officer, Commander, try to remember that!"
Carth's nostrils flared in sudden anger. He opened his mouth to respond, but Kohl interrupted, slashing the air with her hand. "Enough! When we're off-world, you two can sort your authority issues. Until then, the Ebon Hawk is the objective."
She focused on Bastila, jabbing the Jedi in the chest with the collar. "You're going to put this neural collar on, and you're going to pretend to be a slave. You will keep your mouth shut, and do what you're told, just like if the collar was still working." She tilted her head, staring the other woman down. "If you endanger the rest of us over a matter of pride, I will sacrifice you. Do you understand?"
She visibly wilted under the woman's unyielding gaze, and after a hesitation, gingerly took the collar.
Kohl nodded, satisfied. "Good. Now I'm going to get out of this damned racing suit." She strode over to the refresher, Canderous tossing her a pack of clothing.
As soon as she'd closed to the door, Bastila sat down on the bed next to Carth with a sigh. Taking pity, he leaned in toward her. "It really is a good plan," he assured her.
"I know. I apologize for my outburst. I've been under a lot of stress and..." she shrugged, blushing.
"I understand. But we can't get hung up on who's in charge."
Canderous, who had been fitting a heavier blaster pistol into T3, picked that moment to pipe up. "What he means is, you're not top kath hound, princess... so get used to it."
Both Republic crew members regarded the man icily, but it was unlikely he would have cared, even if he'd been facing them to see.
Bastila dropped her voice to a near-whisper. "She frightens me, Carth," she reluctantly admitted.
He sighed, rubbing his hand through his hair. "Oh, good. So it's not just me."
"It's more than just her demeanour. It's..." She shook her head.
"What?"
"No, I'm just guessing. I'm speaking of things best left to the Jedi Masters."
"What? What kind of statement is that?" Carth paused, thinking it through in his mind, coming to a disturbing conclusion. "Is she Force-sensitive?"
"I... I don't know. She certainly doesn't seem to be. But she's accomplished too much for it to be written off as a coincidence."
Carth sat, thinking. "That's a disturbing thought. I've seen her mad. With Force powers, she'd probably give Malak a run for his money."
Beside him, Bastila flinched.
From space, Taris gleamed like a jewel. Long ago, atmospheric scrubbers had removed the pollution of millennia of industrial growth, leaving the skies crystal clear. The skyscrapers of the city-planet shone even from space, stabbing upward from the planet as if the flaunt themselves.
To Malak, it was ironic. The chrome surface, so beautiful, hid such ugliness beneath. Rust, rot, disease. He'd come to the conclusion that everything in the universe was this way, that everything beautiful was built upon ugliness, and it was merely a matter of cutting away enough of the false beauty to show the truth.
He glared through the viewport at the world beneath. Taris... he hated this world. He remembered when he first visited it with Revan... how proud they'd felt, smashing a slaving ring, freeing hundreds of victimized sentients. They'd been adored by the populace.
They'd left, as Jedi inevitably did. And the Tarisians had gone right back to their old ways, preying upon each other, separating into castes of haves and have-nots, when the truth was they were all weak, all pathetic. The only thing left of what they'd done were the memories Malak carried of the camaraderie with his old friend. And that made him hate the world more than anything else.
And now, the reports that the primary base on the planet had been infiltrated, the appointed governor assassinated.
Revan had often said that Malak was too blunt, too direct, unable to see the subtleties of possible actions, of approaching a problem sideways – first as gentle teasing, eventually growing into active malice. But he was no fool, despite what that wretched woman had implied.
That base, that very office where the governor had been found reduced to bare DNA samples, held the codes which bypassed the defence network arranged within the fleet. There was no reason to believe that the Sith governor had been targeted as a political victory by the resistance on Taris, as some of his underlings suggested. There was every reason to believe that the codes had been the goal, sought by a certain troublesome Jedi, and the governor had simply gotten in the way. No; the codes were loose, and the defence network was effectively compromised.
He could order the codes changed. But there was a more expedient, far more satisfying solution. His troops would pay the price for their own failure; the Tarisians would pay the price for their pathetic existence, their false beauty.
"You summoned me, Lord Malak?"
The Dark Lord turned to face Admiral Karath, and gave the order to slaughter a world.
As planned, Carth, Canderous, and T3 left a short while afterwards for Davik's estate, launch codes in hand. The pilot was nervous about leaving her alone with Kohl, but Bastila assured him that she would be fine. He'd taken apart the collar, proving to her that its power cells had been removed, and she'd put it on, using many of her Jedi calming exercises to ward off the trepidation as she did so.
The two women had idled around the apartment for a time, not saying anything, and Bastila took the opportunity to eat one of the rations left behind by Carth, deciding she'd need her strength, regardless of what happened. Not for the first time, she wished she still had her lightsaber.
Finally, Kohl glanced at her chrono and declared it time to go. Together, the two headed back to the roof, and climbed aboard Kohl's speeder. Soon enough they were in the sky, arcing across Taris toward the district which contained the Davik estate.
Bastila found herself quietly observing the other woman with fascination. Carth had shared some of what he'd learned of her... her amnesia, her strange alliance with the crime lord Davik. How she seemed to adore Mission and Zaalbar, and yet could be completely ruthless all the same.
And then there was the Force. It swirled around the woman, raw and untamed, and she seemed completely unaware of it. Neither dark nor light, it seemed simply... pure. She wondered if making the woman aware of her Force-sensitivity would change that, as if the Force remained untainted by Kohl's darker tendencies simply because of her lack of awareness.
She wondered what the Council would make of this new Revan.
Her internal speculation stopped as she realized that Kohl had begun her descent toward a large, sprawling mansion, placed on top of one of Taris' many upper platforms. The building was square, with a large portal set into the side, which she guessed was the hangar which held the Ebon Hawk. The top of the building held a garden – a strange indulgence for an Exchange boss – with a wide variety of plants from many worlds. Paths of stone meandered amongst trees and meticulously-trimmed grass. The top of the estate was oddly pastoral, and Bastila wondered what kind of man this Davik was.
"Don't be fooled," Kohl said, appearing to read her mind, though it was more likely she'd seen Bastila's eyes marvelling at the rooftop paradise. "Davik is one of the basest sentients you'll ever meet. There are Hutts in the Lower City with more class."
A landing port opened on the side of the building at some signal from the speeder. The older woman glided the vehicle in with consummate skill, setting down next to another speeder which occupied the small bay.
She turned to Bastila, eyes intent. "Remember: Don't speak. Don't move unless told. Don't react."
"I remember," the Jedi muttered. "I was in one of these things for two days."
"I wore one for a month, so don't expect sympathy," she replied, causing Bastila to blink with surprise. "We just need to stall Davik long enough for Mission to slice through the security system around the Hawk. Then we're out of here, and you can burn that thing for all I care."
Bastila nodded, and the two of them climbed out of the speeder. Kohl took hold of Bastila's arm and led her over to the door out of the speeder bay. Behind them, the launch portal closed, doing nothing to lessen Bastila's feeling of being trapped.
She nearly jumped when the door opened to reveal two men. One was a taller man, balding, who looked like he hadn't shaved in a couple of days. He reminded her somewhat of Master Vrook, although the comparison was ridiculous – Vrook would never be caught dead in such a garishly coloured armour. Beside him was a short man, who despite his lack of height was broad and muscular, with arms that seemed bigger than Bastila's thigh. He was armed with a pair of blasters, and had a heavy coat on over armour. Much of his head was hidden under a desert-style hat, and he even wore swoop goggles to hide his eyes, though she had no doubt he was evaluating both women with a hawkish gaze.
She quickly schooled her features into those expected from a person under the spell of a neural disruptor. She let her face go slack, and her eyes glaze over. It was like being half-asleep; reacting to nothing, doing everything commanded as though in a dream, with thoughts continually just beyond reach. She delved into her Jedi training, the many exercises she'd been taught as a youngling on how to immerse herself into the Force, to let the material world pass her without effect.
The older man – Davik, she assumed – spoke. "Ah, you're back. I expected you hours ago," he said, an edge to his words.
"I had to lay low for a few hours after the race," Kohl replied. "The Sith saw the broadcast too," she reminded him evenly.
"Everyone saw it," the shorter man remarked. He was looking at Bastila with suspicion. She fought to maintain her glazed expression, to not let any of her anxiety show, surrounded on all sides by enemies and a dubious ally. "You didn't mention that the officer in question was a Jedi."
"I didn't mention it because I didn't know," the assassin snapped.
"Yet you managed to catch her anyway. A Jedi. No mean feat."
"I caught her because I'm that good, Calo. You should watch sometime... you might learn something."
"Enough!" Davik barked. "He has a point. She's far more dangerous than we expected, Kohl. She broke free from the neural collar once."
"And she'll do it again, if we give her enough time. Which is why we shouldn't dawdle. Make your deal with the Sith."
Partially-immersed as she was in the Force, Bastila could feel Davik's displeasure at the implied command from someone he considered property. "The Sith are in disarray right now. Canderous hit their base while they were out looking for you, and Gadon Thek has been ambushing their search parties in the Lower City."
"Well!" Kohl exclaimed with false cheer. "We've all been very busy, then." She raised an eyebrow at the short bounty hunter. "At least Calo is well-rested. He can protect us if she gets loose again."
The bounty hunter snarled, but didn't get a chance to act, as Davik suddenly slapped Kohl across the face, snapping her head back. Bastila was glad that they weren't looking at her, as she was unable to suppress a small jump at the painful sound.
"You are exhausting my patience, Kohl. Take the woman to the interrogation room and put her in the force cage. You guard her." He raised a finger into her face menacingly, a hand print glowing in painful red on her alabaster skin. "If she gets loose again, you pay the price," he warned. "You."
She looked back at Davik with naked hate. Kohl's chest was heaving from the force of her rage, so towering that Bastila could feel it shivering the Force. It made the young Jedi want to cower in the corner. It impressed Davik not at all. "Yes... Master."
Davik nodded, and then turned away to stride down the corridor. Nord lingered a moment, to send Kohl a satisfied smirk, then followed. The two women watched them go; Kohl's hands clenching and unclenching, as if imagining a throat in her grip.
When she judged it was safe, Bastila whispered to the other woman. "You must be calm. We're close-"
"Shut up," Kohl commanded, her voice husky. "I'll be calm when I've had my reckoning, which will be soon enough." She seized Bastila's arm with bruising force, and dragged her down the hallway, opposite to the direction Kang and Nord had taken.
Not wanting to draw the woman's anger onto herself, Bastila allowed herself to be pulled. She tried to distract herself by surreptitiously observing the surroundings. She was appalled by the colours that assaulted her inside the building. Quite unlike the garden above, everything was decorated in the same purple which made up Davik's armour. As the two walked through the corridors of the estate, the Jedi noted wall hangings from Alderaan, light fixtures from Coruscant, carpets from Ithor... many things which indicated a great deal of money, but not a great deal of taste.
Kohl turned a corner and stopped in front of a set of doors leading to a bedroom. She pressed the call button, and within a moment the doors slid open to reveal Carth, Canderous, and T3.
"About time," Canderous said without preamble. He saw the fading hand print on her cheek and his expression darkened. "Davik met you?"
"Him and his new favourite pet," she confirmed.
"He ditched us in here as soon as word came that you were coming in," Carth said. "Is he normally that jumpy?"
"No," she replied. "He knows that the Sith are going to come knocking soon enough, and he needs to have the princess here." She looked at Carth, while Bastila screwed up her face in distaste as the sarcastic title. "He showed you the Hawk?"
"Yup. She's a really, really nice ship," Carth said. Unlike his earlier edginess, the pilot seemed far more cheerful, almost bouncing on his toes.
"Never mind that. He showed it to you? He was impressed by you?"
"He's suspicious, but interested," Canderous said. "With Hudrow out of the picture, he needs a pilot, especially with your little prize promising to make the Sith go away. He's running a background check."
"I'm fairly well-known in the Republic," the pilot warned. "He's not going to like what he finds."
"It won't matter, we need to grab the ship soon, as soon as Mission slices the security consoles and disables the alarm systems." Kohl said.
Canderous raised an eyebrow. "In a hurry, are we?"
"We need to get out of here."
"Your intuition again?" None of them noticed the odd look which flashed across Bastila's face.
"Yes."
The Mandalorian nodded. "Fine. Grab the brat and get her to do the work, and we'll get out of here. I'm not in much of a mood to dawdle either."
Without warning, the entire room shivered slightly. "What in the galaxy-" Carth asked.
Another tremor shook them, much stronger than the first. Rising from his chair, Canderous tilted his head, like a dog listening to a whistle. "That's a turbolaser blast. Naval cannon."
More rumblings rattled the building, as if to agree. The shocks grew in strength and frequency, until the entire building trembled, and items were knocked from tables, and it nearly became a challenge to stand.
Bastila went white. "By the Force... the Sith... they're bombing the planet."
Kohl snarled. "Change of schedule. Get to the ship, now." She pulled one of her blades, flipping it over to hand to Bastila. "Kill anyone who gets in your way."
"Where in the galaxy are you going?" Canderous demanded.
"To get Mission! Go!" And she was gone, dashing out of the room.
Canderous grabbed his repeater, slinging it over his shoulder into ready position. "You heard the lady. Move!"
Kohl tore down the halls of Davik's estate, dodging light fixtures knocked loose by the bombardment, and some of Davik's servants who wandered the halls in near-panic. One of the guards, a Rodian, tried to stop her, to demand an explanation; without slowing down, she grabbed him by the face and drove his head into a wall as she passed, not even bothering to see whether he stayed down or not.
She passed through Davik's "throne room", the ridiculously opulent area where he hosted dinners and business meetings, and into the main wing where the crime boss' own bedroom was located. The assassin's assigned bedroom, which she never willingly used, was located right beside his, for the greater convenience when Davik felt the need to indulge in some of his baser urges.
It occurred to her as she ran that she wouldn't need to put up with that any longer... one way or another.
Her room was not locked, and the door barely slid open in time for her hurried approach. Within, Mission and Zaalbar waited, the young Twi'lek clutching the Wookiee in fright.
"You two! Come!" Kohl ordered.
"What's happening?" Mission wailed.
"The Sith are trying to kill us all. Come on, we've got to get to the Hawk." She grabbed Mission and physically hauled the girl to her feet. Zaalbar quickly bent to grab his equipment pack. "Zaalbar, now!"
Dragging the Twi'lek along, the Wookiee taking up the rear, the three headed out the way Kohl had come. The ground was shaking almost constantly, and sometimes the trembles would grow so violent that the three were tossed against the walls of the corridor. Mission wasn't able to keep up with the assassin's pace, and her fright was becoming unmanageable. Zaalbar grabbed her, picking her up to carry her against his chest. She clung to him like a Wookiee child, sobbing into his fur.
"Come on, come on!" Kohl hissed at no-one in particular, pushing the other two in front of her. They were close; one last corridor to the hangar. The door to the Hawk lay in front of them, parting at their approach.
Suddenly a red bolt cut through the air, searing into Kohl's unarmoured back, knocking her to the ground with a cry. Zaalbar spun and roared with rage, but was forced to duck back behind the door frame to shield his precious burden as more bolts struck around him.
"And where are you three going?" came Calo Nord's voice. The bounty hunter approached slowly, weapons raised, a sneer on his face. "Davik told you to guard the woman! But I guess you're in the middle of a double-cross, hmm? I knew this was coming."
"Go! Get to the ship!" Kohl cried. Mission struggled, trying to get to her, but her strength was nothing compared to a Wookiee, and Zaalbar refused to let her go.
As they fled, Calo raised his weapons toward them, but was forced to block as Kohl pulled her knife and flung it at him. Taking the distraction, she didn't bother gaining her feet, instead rolling toward him, slamming a foot into his knee as she slid out flat. She lashed out a foot, catching him on the wrist and sending his blaster flying. He moved to grab it, but she scissored his legs, bringing him down, crawling up his body to try to get a powerful arm around his neck.
Calo may have been short, but he was still a bounty hunter with a deserved reputation... he was tough, strong, and he knew how to fight. He abandoned scrambling for his blaster to elbow her in the face. The blow shocked her enough for him to get an arm around her neck, and he grabbed his own wrist and began to squeeze, choking her. She punched him, but the force of the body blows was turned aside by the tough Mandalorian armour he wore beneath his coat.
She tried to pull his arms loose with one hand, while her other clawed its way over his neck toward his face. She jammed the blade of her hand against the pressure point below his nose, pushing his head back as he snarled with pain and defiance. He squeezed harder, and she shifted upward, sharp fingernails digging under his goggles for his eyes. He was forced to release her head to grab at her arm, which he tried to twist to get a position where he could break it.
She was ready, rolling her forearm around, reversing the arm-bar and driving his face and shoulder into the ground with a twist of her body. She held the arm and smashed his back with hammering elbows.
Calo managed to get his knees beneath him, ignoring the pain in his arm as her shots to his back began to have more effect. His swept a short leg underneath her, flipping her over, then kicked out, catching her in the face.
She rolled away, coming up to an unsteady standing position. He scrambled to his feet as well, and the two combatants glared at each other across the trembling hallway. Blood trickled down the side of Kohl's face, from where the skin on her temple had been split by Calo's boot. Scratches marred Calo's face, and he stood slightly hunched over. Both were acutely aware of the blaster lying on the floor just a couple of metres away from both of them.
It was Calo who moved first, darting toward the weapon. Again, Kohl intercepted him, catching his good arm, smashing an elbow into his face. She shoved him against the wall with all of her strength, punching him twice as hard as she could. He caught her arm on the third try, more through luck than skill, and spun about, slamming her against the wall. He pulled her forward again, kneeing her in the gut, and brought a heavy fist down upon her back, onto the blaster wound, finally tearing a cry of pain from the assassin.
He lift her to pound her against the corridor again, but she came up swinging, the flat of her hand finding Calo's nose, breaking it with a sickening crunch. She stabbed a toe into his gut, pushing him away, gaining the space she needed to spin. Her boot heel arced up to crash against his head, sending him spinning to the floor.
Blinking away dizziness, Kohl moved in for the kill. But as she stepped forward, Calo rolled over to reveal the retrieved blaster in his hand. A hurriedly-aimed shot caught her in the shoulder, sending her back to the ground with a cry. He climbed to his feet, never letting his weapon waver. Kohl watched him, her teeth clenched, clutching at the fresh hole in her shoulder.
Blood dripped from his nose and mouth, coating the lower part of his face in red. Calo snarled. "I've been waiting for this for a long time." He aimed the blaster between her eyes. She glared up at him, un-cowed, muscles tensing for her next move.
Just then, the entire complex shook, as the Sith intervened with a direct hit on the estate. The wall next to Calo blew inward, filling the air with dust, and the bounty hunter was forced to shield his face. He had enough time for an angry shout before the ceiling collapsed, a torrent of ferrocrete and metal wreckage cascading down to bury him.
When the avalanche of debris finished, Kohl opened her eyes. She blinked at the pile of wreckage, no less surprised than the Calo had been. Staggering to her feet, she looked for signs of the bounty hunter amongst the debris. Not finding any, she stooped to pick up the dropped blaster, quirking an eyebrow. "I guess patience is overrated."
Getting to the Hawk had been rough going. As soon as the bombardment had begun, those of Davik's guard which hadn't fled for the Lower City had realized that the next logical place to go was to the hangar, where presumably – hopefully – their employer would take them when he fled. As a rule, Davik did not hire the most intelligent of thugs, but even the dimmest among them knew that when Canderous had entered the hangar, in the company of two strangers and a utility droid, something was not right.
This was pretty much confirmed a second later when the big Mandalorian opened up with his blaster carbine.
Between Canderous' repeater and Carth's blaster pistols, the four thugs cowering near the security console by the Hawk fell in short order. Together they walked over to the ship, crouched safely behind the glowing blue force fields that made up Davik's security system. In front of the fields stood the console which awaited the authorization codes to bring down the fields and allow access to the ship.
Canderous growled. "That woman better not take long fetching the brat."
The door which they'd entered from slid open, but instead of admitting Kohl and her two charges, a squad of Rodian guards charged in, blasters blazing. Canderous swung about, dropping to one knee, while his repeater roared. One of the guards was caught in the shoulder, but the rest dived out of the way of the fusillade.
Carth squeezed the triggers on his pistols, putting himself between the guards' fire and Bastila. He slapped his shield band, covering himself in the protective blue glow of a personal shield. "We've got no cover here!"
"I'm glad you noticed!" Canderous replied.
The same was true for the attackers, and the two groups found themselves exchanging fire across the open plain of the hangar. Bastila stretched out a hand, and a pair of Rodians flew backwards to slam into the wall of the hangar. Only one stayed down, the other staggering to his feet, until Carth knocked him back down with a pair of blaster shots.
The door to their right slid open, and Canderous brought his carbine to bear, ready to mow down the reinforcements. But instead Zaalbar appeared, carrying Mission. He ducked as blaster shots scorched the metal around him, roaring in defiance, shielding the young Twi'lek. He lifted his bowcaster with his free hand, sending bright green plasma back at the enemy.
"Cover him!" Carth called, and began squeezing off shots as fast as his pistols would cycle; Canderous joined in, laying a heavy barrage of suppressive fire that made the guards dance, trying to dodge the blasts as best as they could. Even T3 helped as best as it could, adding its own little pistol to the rain of red bolts.
Zaalbar dashed across the hangar toward them as fast as his hulking frame would allow. Blaster bolts passed dangerously close, scorching his fur, but he made it to their side. He dropped Mission behind Canderous, and turned to add his own fire to the two humans'.
Canderous turned to cast a quick glare at the Twi'lek, who was scrambling to properly aim her own rifle. "Brat! Get over here and slice the security system!"
"But Kohl is fighting Calo Nord! We need to help her!"
"Helping her won't mean squat if we don't get the damned ship ready to go! Do it!"
Mission shivered, but did as commanded. Her fingers flew over the console, and she pulled a computer spike out of her pocket, jamming it into the console's data port. "I unlocked the other data port... T3, help me!"
The droid twittered, rolling over and jacking in. Together they tore at the system's virtual protections, the Twi'lek's intuition and cunning combining with the droid's processing power and inherent skill. But they were still taking fire, and Canderous' own shield was starting to flicker as he used himself as a shield for the young Twi'lek.
"Mission," Carth called between clenched teeth, his own shield starting to fail. "Faster is better!"
"I'm trying!" she snapped. "The encryptions on this thing are insane! Where in the galaxy did he get this stuff? He-"
Just then the hangar took a direct hit from the murderous enemies in orbit, and the entire building shook. Part of the roof effectively exploded, sending wreckage flying in all directions. Mission screamed as she was knocked to the ground, and Bastila barely deflected away a heavy piece of durasteel with the Force before it crushed them.
The firefight had paused as the two groups realized how close they had come to destruction.
"We don't have time for this," Canderous said as he laboured to his feet. "The Sith are razing the planet while we trade pot-shots with these idiots."
"Is there anyone else we can get the codes from?" Bastila asked.
Mission took hold of Carth's arm and shook it slightly. "Guys?"
"We'll have to grab Davik and beat the codes out of him. Let's hope he's not dead already-"
"Guys!" the Twi'lek shouted.
"What?" Canderous snarled.
"The Sith did the job for us," she pointed out. They looked, and saw that she was right; the blast which had demolished part of the hangar had also destroyed one of the field pylons, leaving a gaping hole in the Hawk's security.
"Well, I'll be damned," Carth muttered.
Canderous stood gaping at the open field for a second, then shook himself. "Well, don't stand there staring, get aboard!"
The group obeyed, with Carth, Canderous, and Zaalbar providing covering fire. Blaster bolts splashed off the remaining force fields as they retreated around, getting behind the fields and dashing up the Hawk's open boarding ramp. The guard's fire gained a desperate quality, as they realized that the Sith bombardment was intensifying, and the only thing that stood a chance of reaching safety was Davik's ship.
"Where's Kohl?" Canderous growled as the moved into the main room of the ship. Carth passed him on the way to the cockpit, Bastila on his heels, intent on starting the ship's power-up procedures.
"She should be here any second," Mission said. "That pit-slime Calo wouldn't have beaten her-"
Mission's statement was interrupted a second later, as an arm clad in purple armour reached out from the Hawk's garage, snaking around her neck and pulling her backwards. "What do we have here? Thieves in the hangar!"
Zaalbar, still near the loading ramp, roared in sudden rage, his bowcaster rising toward Davik. The crime boss responded by pulling his own blaster pistol, aiming at the Wookiee. Carth and Canderous, who had entered the Hawk's central room, reacted by lifting their own weapons. The pistol swung toward them as they did so.
Davik glared at the two men. "So, Canderous and the pilot. You know, I was planning on taking you along. I need a pilot, after all. But you decided to jump the gun. That's not the kind of loyalty I was hoping for from my newest employee, or my top man. I'm disappointed."
"That was kind of the idea," said Canderous flatly, drawing a snarl from Davik.
"So you all thought you were going to steal my ship, and leave me high and dry? Sorry! Not gonna happen!" Mission struggled in his grip, but he tightened his hold around her neck, and kept his blaster shifting between the three males. "Nobody makes a move. You, pilot!" Her gestured at Carth with the weapon. "Get this ship into the air. We'll sort this out after we've gotten away from the Sith."
"You're not going anywhere." Davik jerked around to look at the speaker, and found Kohl standing at the bottom of the ramp. A blaster hung at her hip, but her hands were empty, and her face was bruised and half-covered in blood.
"And finally we're all here," he remarked snidely, though he clutched Mission to himself a bit tighter. "So you're the leader of this little rebellion? Fine. You tell them to get the ship into the air."
Another close hit demolished part of the hangar behind her, causing all of them to wobble on their feet. But her icy gaze did not move from Davik. "I said, you're not going anywhere."
Her defiance enraged the crime lord. "This ship belongs to me! And so do you! You live and die at my whim! Now do what I tell you!"
Kohl gave no reaction, continuing to stare him down. "Fine," he snarled. "You wanna play that way?" He swung his blaster up toward Mission's head. "Let's see if you're more obedient with a blas-"
He never got a chance to finish his sentence, nor carry out his threat. As soon as the blaster started to move toward Mission, Kohl drew her blaster and shot him with lightning speed. He yelled in pain as the bolt cored into his arm, jerking backward. Mission yanked herself loose, firing a weak elbow into his stomach, rolling forward and away into Zaalbar's arms. The Wookiee spun about, using himself as a big, furry shield.
He grasped at her escaping figure, but Kohl was walking up the ramp, firing each step of the way, unhurried, face cast in iron. The plasma bolts burned against his chest armour. When he tried to lift his blaster toward her, she shot him again in the shoulder, and his weapon slipped from nerveless fingers. The crime lord crumpled to his knees.
When she was close enough, the assassin kicked him roughly onto his back. She planted one foot on his chest, his purple armour smoking and pitted beneath her boot, and glared at him down the length of her blaster. She stared at him, face like a sphinx, and savoured his fear.
"You can't," he rasped. "You-"
She pulled the trigger, and did not stop until his face and head was a charred ruin. "I just did," she told the corpse.
She turned to the rest of the crew, who watched the dust and blood-coated, blaster-holed woman with a varying mix of shock, horror, and confusion. She looked at them as if they were all idiots. "What are you doing? Get this ship in the air!" she roared. That broke the trance; Carth and Bastila scurried to the cockpit, glad to be away from her.
"Canderous, take the keel cannon. The Sith aren't going to like us running out on their party." The big man nodded, jamming his repeater into the weapon rack on the wall, then striding off down the corridor to the turret hatch.
"What do we do?" Mission asked.
"You strap yourself in." Her tone brooked no argument. She gave Davik's body a kick. "Zaalbar, get this trash off my ship, then you do the same."
The Wookiee yowled in acknowledgement, but she was already moving, dashing over to the ladder to the Ebon Hawk's dorsal turbolaser turret.
The ship rumbled as the main thrusters ignited, then rose into the air under Carth's deft hand. As they emerged from Davik's hangar, a turbolaser shot caught the vessel on the port side, the force of the plasma bolt nearly flipping the ship onto its edge. The small transport's shields dissipated the shot, but the crew was tossed around inside, and Zaalbar would have been thrown out the closing loading dock if not for a powerful, clawed hand wrapped around a support strut.
Carth's hands danced across the Hawk's controls like a virtuoso performer. Grabbing the flight stick, he pushed the throttle to maximum, and the Ebon Hawk shot into the sky. Behind them, the city of Taris smoked in deathly ruin, while fire continued to rain from the sky.
Within moments they broke atmosphere, managing to avoid being hit by another shot from the powerful naval cannon of the Sith fleet. Unfortunately Kohl's prediction was accurate, and as they shot away from the planet, a wing of Sith fighters swooped toward them in pursuit.
"Get us a hyperspace route out of here," Carth commanded the Jedi, and for once she merely nodded, pulling up the navigational interface. The Hawk danced beneath his hands, surprisingly nimble for a transport ship, dodging the fire from the Sith fighters. There were too many to dodge them all, though, and Carth began to sweat as blasts splashed against the ship's dangerously weakened shields.
The Hawk's own batteries were answering back, and Carth noted that there were certain tactical advantages to having a Mandalorian and a psychotic woman manning the guns. A snub-fighter exploded in the Hawk's upper quarter, but the fleet was already sending out reinforcements, and Carth knew that the nearest capital ships were likely already receiving orders to use their turrets to swat the annoying escapee out of the sky.
Are you out there, Saul? You're not getting me this time, either. "Bastila, now would be a good time."
"It's in!" she cried. Carth slid the throttle forward to its final setting; and for a few, terrifying seconds the Hawk was out of his control, as the navigational computer took over, aligning the ship. Then the stars stretched, and the Ebon Hawk shot away, faster than the pursuing bolts of energy from the oncoming fighters.