Chapter 8: Every Man For Himself
Summary:
Vale and her crew need get in touch with the Republic, or anyone else that might help, but a hunting party gathers in Anchorhead, and plans go awry.
3951 BBY, Anchorhead, Tatooine
It wasn't long before Darek noted the gathering outside of Vale's storefront, advising that she might want to close up shop for good.
"I have a bad feeling about this," he said, mirroring Asra's words from the day before.
Glitch and Orex remained in the workshop, ensuring that their cargo was secure while Vale, Asra and Darek gathered in the shop proper, watching discreetly from the patchwork building's slatted windows.
To anyone shopping the market, the crowd was nothing of note, but to a trained soldier like Darek who had been keeping tabs on all present, the signs were obvious. They were being watched.
"Do you think they know?" Asra asked, already adopting a hushed tone. "About the holocrons?"
"Not sure what a bunch of mercenaries and bounty hunters would do with them, unless there really are Sith involved," Vale replied, fear rooting somewhere deep in her chest at the thought. Was it Revan, having pulled off the greatest con the Republic had ever known, and again no less? Or was it something else?
"Maybe they just want what's theirs," Asra mused.
Vale thought about it before shaking her head, unsure, "These things are ancient, and they're almost not even holocrons. More like a primitive prototype or something, but far more dangerous."
Asra only shrugged.
"I wouldn't be surprised if you were right, though. The Sith are all about their dark lineage or whatever." Vale laughed darkly.
"Cute," Asra retorted, amusement returning to her face before Darek roused their attention.
His skin gleamed a striped red-and-black in the slatted sunlight that filtered into the room against his face, making him look all the more dramatic as he turned to them again.
"I don't think they're here for those things, whatever the hell they are," he said.
"What makes you say that?" The worry was clear in Asra's voice as a trigger-ready finger traced the edges of her holstered blaster.
Vale felt the same. Danger was near, and she didn't need the Force to know it. Instinct kicked in and adrenaline coursed through her veins. Her shock staff was secure against her back for now, and at the sight of Orex in the doorway she knew she might be using it sooner than she expected.
"You're gonna want to see this."
Orex retreated into the workshop before Vale could ask any questions. She exchanged glances with Darek and Asra before following him, her sense of dread mounting.
A bad feeling is right.
Orex stood over Glitch, whose hands were poised over Vale's ancient terminal computer. She mostly used the thing for transactions or logging her inventory these days, but she had a feeling she wouldn't like what she saw when she approached the display.
Vale froze. A younger version of herself looked out from the monitor, her skin untarnished and unscarred under a mess of short hair, a Padawan braid trailing lazily down her shoulder.
"What is this?" she said, her voice low, severe, and unbelieving.
Orex didn't say anything, and Glitch didn't make eye contact. The girl hid behind her own mess of hair and scrolled further down the page instead. Eden Valen had been outed, her records released after almost ten years in exile.
Beneath an image of a young Eden just before she entered the war were various other iterations of herself and their adjoining ID card photos, false names, transport documentations, and forged medical records all laid bare. And stamped on every image of her was an Exchange bounty, 50 million credits worth.
There wasn't a file that portrayed her now. There was nothing on Vale, but there was a photo of her from a year ago, maybe. Half her face took up a pixelated screenshot from what appeared to be a security feed from the Anchorhead docks. Her hair was fully alight in the dyed yellow-blonde that it was now slowly growing out of, and though her garb was different, anyone who had seen her about town would be able to identify her.
"50 million credits, huh?" was all she could muster in an unamused tone, placing her hands plaintively on her hips as her mind raced. She, Orex and Glitch all stared at her console display, unsure of what to do next.
"Who would do this? Why?" Orex pressed quietly, his voice soft, handling the weight of the situation with delicate but deliberate words. He must have known that this was not protocol, that she was erased from the public record. There was no good reason this information should have leaked at all, especially with what the Jedi feared of her. Vale felt oddly comforted, reminded of the camaraderie she often missed with her troops. The Jedi had betrayed her, Revan had abandoned her and Malak had come to despise her and the wounds she left him with, or so she hoped – despite whatever regrets she had for what she lost or what she was denied, her troops had only ever tried to do the right thing, and she always felt wrong in leaving them behind.
The Jedi exiled her for a reason, and they sealed her records away in hopes that no one would go looking for her, Revan included. But they were sure to keep tabs on her, to ensure that the wounds that festered in her wake were controlled, monitored, and maintained. And who, pray tell, would take on such a task, or dare say revel in it? Vale knew the answer.
"Atris," she whispered, her voice unable to speak the woman's name at full volume with the weight of it.
Orex cocked his head slightly, but allowed her a moment's breadth to continue.
"My old Master, or one of them anyway," she sighed, still unnerved by all of her past selves passing judgement on her from the monitor, "But as to why part? I have no idea."
Orex nodded curtly, returning his attention to the screen as well.
"We'll need to be quick about this," he said, though Vale wasn't sure if he was speaking to her, to Glitch, or to the both of them.
"Quicker than before?" Vale asked, eyeing the munitions pack now tucked beneath her workbench.
"We need to move immediately, if not yesterday," Orex responded, shooting her a half-hearted smirk. Vale felt rain again, but this time only in her memory. And she remembered his name, then. Agent Antares. Pushing the recollection from her mind, she mentally mapped out her shop, the city and the dunes beyond, and even the sector of the Outer Rim where Tatooine resided. She could hold her own, and so could the others, but she would be damned if she was the reason they were all in danger.
"There's a passage not far from here. Out the service door, about ten paces down the back alley, there's a grate to some old tunnels that belonged to a moisture rig once-upon-a-time. The machine's gone, but the channels are still there, and they're large enough for all of you to get out safely. You can follow the tunnels to the cantina, that damn Czerka post at the edge of town, or out into the desert for all I care, but you have to get out of here."
Doling out orders was still second nature, and Vale was surprised it came so naturally, even now.
"You've planned an escape route everywhere you've gone, haven't you?" Orex smirked knowingly.
Vale may have taken that as an insult, but she knew Orex meant well. The man probably did the same. Life on the Outer Rim was merciless, especially for ex-soldiers.
"You know what they always say about bad habits," she quipped, despite the urgency welling in her bones.
"But what about you?" Glitch asked. Near dumbfounded, all Vale could do was stare at her. The girl watched her from behind her dark veil of a fringe, eyes wide though her expression stern. How old was she, anyway?
"I'll distract the bounty hunters, or whoever the hell is parked outside." Vale glanced through the narrow slit of a window in her workshop, making sure that the alleyway was clear at least, lest her one and only plan go awry before they even got started. "The rest of you need to get off planet. Find the Republic, anyone that might help."
Glitch looked from Vale to Orex, as if awaiting his answer to the proposition. The girl's face was emotionless and Vale couldn't tell if that was just how the girl was wired or if her plan was a dumb one.
"And the crystals?"
Orex was careful not to call them holocrons – they were never sure what they were back then, and they sure as hell weren't any surer now.
"You'll have to take them with you. The Jedi can't all be wiped out, and if anything they'd be allied with the Republic, right?"
Orex nodded despite the words that came out of his mouth, "I don't like the sound of this."
"They want me alive, but that's not to say they're not willing to kill to get to me. If any of those bounty hunters see you with me, you're dead. We'd be lucky if they haven't already," Vale pleaded.
Glitch and Orex exchanged glances before the girl looked to the munitions pack again. For a moment, Vale felt the unease radiating from her, but it may have just been her intuition. They were all pretty uneasy now as it was, herself included.
"There was a third…" she thought aloud, but the other two were barely listening.
Glitch returned her gaze to Orex and the two nodded, turning again to Vale.
"Stolen sandcrawler," Orex said without any elaboration. It sounded like a call sign. Vale knew what Orex was up to without even asking, and she smirked at the fact that he trusted she'd make it out of this alive.
"Stolen sandcrawler," she affirmed, nodding.
Her eyes swept over her workshop, stalling over a loose grate near the alley window – a hiding spot she located upon first buying the place. Vale always had emergency rations and several other unused ID cards she could utilize if she ever needed to move on. Without a word, Glitch followed her gaze and investigated the grate. Taking hold of the rucksack inside, Glitch shrugged and handed it to Vale.
"You might want to work on your tells."
"I'm getting sloppy," Vale laughed darkly as she took the sack and looked at Orex approvingly. "Kid's got potential."
Vale held back a laugh and nodded as Orex placed a heavy hand on her shoulder. After years of isolation, of avoiding contact or attachment, there was something about this small gesture that felt so natural – and so bittersweet and heartbreaking at once. "I have a feeling we'll meet again."
Vale wasn't sure what made her say it, but the thought did not process in her mind before being spoken. It was simply stated, and it was the truth. Orex's good eye fixed on hers as he nodded, affirming her feeling and the sentiment it carried.
"We'll meet again."
The room was almost too quiet before Asra's uneasy voice sang through her workshop's doorway. "Guys?"
On instinct, Vale's hand reached back for her shock staff. She unhitched it from her back as she entered the main shop. Darek held his rifle at the ready and Asra's blaster spun around her finger, itching to be fired. Vale's eyes locked on Asra's, asking without words. The Togruta's warm yellow eyes darted to door on her left. The side entrance. Darek still had his eyes fixed outside, presumably watching their latest threat as they contemplated making their move.
Asra's blaster remained aloft as she rushed to Vale's side, placing a gentle hand on her arm.
"I want to hear all about your dashing escape, ya hear?" she whispered with equal parts threat and affection.
Vale placed a hand on Asra's, nodding solemnly, silently regretting their circumstances but thankful that she hadn't made more of a habit of making friends in her exile. This wouldn't be easy.
Vale felt Orex and Glitch arrive in the doorway beside her. Orex shot Asra a look. Within an instant, Asra understood. She nodded at Orex and looked to Darek, catching wind of their silent exchange. In the span of a moment, the two were in sync and up to speed with Orex's soundless orders. Orex and Vale made eye contact once more, silently saying their goodbyes as the rest of the crew filed into the workshop and through the unseen service door without a sound.
Vale was alone again.
For the first time in years, Erebus was afraid.
Word on the street was that there was a Jedi in town. The image circulating the holonet was familiar to enough of the locals that Erebus' plan was thrust into action. He parked himself just outside of his sister's stall, but upon doing so was immediately made aware of the other hunters on watch. Most of them were unremarkable, and he knew he could best them easily in a fight, if necessary - but there was one that troubled him.
At a nearby food stall sat a girl, hooded and cloaked. Though Erebus could not see her face, he could feel the faintest signs of the Force welling in her cells, urging her bones into patient action, preparing to strike when the moment was most opportune. She watched and waited, just as he did, but her presence unnerved him still. Especially since he did not know who she was or why she was here.
He knew that his Master knew, now, and that he had a lot to answer for.
Not only could Darth Nihilus easily discover where Erebus' ship was docked by asking some subordinate to retrieve his ship's coordinates, but Nihilus could simply reach out with the Force and discover that his apprentice dawdled before the doorstep of their very Maker and hesitated upon it.
Erebus scoffed at the idea, but knew that in some way, it was true. Nihilus and Sion were ravaged by what happened at Malachor, and were born from what ruins remained. Their master, Darth Traya, had brought them out of the ashes of oblivion so that they could reign over it. And it was her ambition to study that forsaken moon and the wound that still festered there, but most importantly, what had created it. Or who.
Erebus was who he was because of his sister's slaughter, because of her abandonment on Dantooine, because of their innate connection through the Force. He could wrong her as she had wronged him by taking her to Nihilus and letting his master do what he will. Or he could take her for himself. He could kill her, yes, but there was another part of him that just wanted to take her away from all of this. There was a part of him that felt like home in the wake of her shop, a part of him that felt warm again.
Before his plan of action could be decided, he'd have to dispose of the Echani first.
But he had to know – who was she?
The girl at the stall was stoic, sure, and unlike any other creature he had ever come across. Debasing was his way of staying aloof, but his curiosity was getting the better of him, and it was making him clumsy.
She was unlike any Jedi he had ever known, or ever met for that matter, and he had yet to come across a Sith that was as adept as she was when it came to blocking his mental intrusions. Erebus thrived on forcefully probing into the thoughts of others, especially given his love for learning, prying into unsuspecting minds for information that was by no rights his to take. But her mind was vice-tight and silent as stone. She had been trained for this.
Electricity poured from his fingertips without his consent. It was only a matter of time before the Force-sensitive girl noticed it, too.
Vale held her shock staff aloft as she surveyed her shop for the last time. None of the other dwellings she had inhabited in her exile ever stood out. In fact, she could hardly tell them apart. But here, she felt tempted to grow roots, and she almost had. She had a shop, a clientele. She had friends. Friends.
Her eyes glanced back at the storage room door when a monotone voice spoke coolly in her ear.
"Affirmative Statement: Master, I believe we should vacate the premises immediately."
Vale swung around, her shock staff still at the ready, and came face-to-face with an HK droid. It was one of her many salvaged droids, lined up pretty, all in a row. But none of her stock was programmed to activate pre-purchase. In fact, she kept most of the intelligence modules in storage, unless a customer requested an on-floor demonstration. The droid's amber eyes stared vacantly out at her, it's head cocked sideways in crude imitation of more sentient capabilities.
"Admonitory Warning: Time is of the essence. A horde of bounty hunters and mercenaries await you, as well as a Sith Agent and an Echani-trained warrior."
The HK's voice drawled softly in the open space, as if aware that they may be overheard.
"How did you-?"
"Assertive Suggestion: I believe we should vacate now and ask questions later."
And with that, the HK droid took it upon itself to approach the main counter and procure the blaster rifle she kept hidden beside the register.
Vale's eyes widened, watching wordlessly.
"Wh-?"
The words were hardly out of her mouth before her shop's side door burst open. Before instinct could kick in, blaster fire singed the air around her. The intruders, the mercenaries, bounty hunters, whoever they were, lay dead on her doorstep within moments. She didn't even have the chance to get a good look at them.
"Confident Assumption: You have miscalculated your odds. You may want to reconsider them."
"Who are you?" Vale found herself saying, incredulous. Though she knew full well what her inventory consisted of, it just didn't add up.
"Astonished Admission: I am an HK-50 model droid. My primary functions are to facilitate communications and terminate hostilities. You should know these things, Master."
Vale rolled her eyes.
"Right, should I be surprised?" incensed that she had forgotten how pompous protocols were before the droid could respond with another quip of its own.
"You might want to find cover."
Without elaboration, the droid moved toward the sales counter. Heart racing, mind on fire, Vale ran to its side, ducking beneath her sorry excuse for a register as the front wall collapsed in an ear-shattering explosion.
"The rear exit is our only option, Master," the droid stated, its drolling monotone muted by the aftermath of the blast. Vale's ears were still ringing, but she understood loud and clear. Whatever the hell was happening, her body urged her onward, and she wondered just how far the others had gotten. If they were lucky, they were already in the moisture rigging tunnels, and whatever happened afterward would only propel them further away from this disaster.
With the HK at her side, Vale ducked through the workshop doorway and glanced out her side window. The slatted shades permitted her a view of the alley again – the way was clear.
"Now you might want to find cover," Vale said this time, slamming her open palm on a hidden panel in the workshop doorway. Several figures entered the shop proper through the blasted entrance, (Fools, Vale thought to herself) just as the rest of the shop collapsed on top of them. She was already out the back door with the mysterious HK at her side when the rest of the shop followed suit, dissolving into the sands behind them in a cloud of mushrooming dust and debris.
Flashes of memory invaded her grasp on the present: she felt as if she were one moment, she was darting through the alleyways of Anchorhead and the next she felt the weight of humid air, tepid and stagnant despite the rain – and even as Anchorhead's sand threatened to fill her lungs as she ran, she heard the distinct sounds of Mandalorian vehicles thrumming as they weaved through dampened trees, kicking up mud into the underbrush. Vale was already halfway down the narrow path towards the cantina when a cloaked figure swept into the passage, blocking any advances, bringing her memories to a staggering halt.
Her blood stilled, her limbs frozen in half-recognition, but before her brain could recognize the figure standing before her, a phantom hand grabbed her elbow, jerked her sideward, and straight into the durasteel side of a dumpster.
"Always hated this place," an almost sing-song voice uttered in her ear, annoyed despite the melody inherent in her speech. Vale cursed the absence of the Force and the clumsiness of her natural skills, still struggling to keep up with everything going on. The alleyway she left behind still felt heavy, the presence of the cloaked figure weighing it down with a dark familiarity she hadn't felt since the massacre at Malachor V. And yet, despite the urgency with which she assessed the threat, Vale was pressed with another matter: the massive Wookiee and the blue-skinned Twi'lek at her side, still stabling her arm in a vice grip.
"We'll exchange names and braid each other's whatevers, later," the Twi'lek quipped, "but right now, you best be coming with me, sister."
"Cautionary Proposal: Master, we do not know who-"
But before the rogue droid could spit out another word, the Wookiee reached forward, grabbed its head and clawed its intelligence module straight out. Without any further explanation, the Wookiee tossed the module at Vale, expecting her to catch it, and roared "You can fix this hunk of junk later, too."
Vale's Shyriiwook was rusty, but she got the gist of it, the module tumbling into her half-suspecting hands.
"Your friends are up ahead, and if you want to see them again, we need to move."
With another jerk of her arm, Vale was up and running again. The Twi'lek was slender, small almost, but wiry strong, and the Wookiee lugged what remained of the HK over his hulking shoulders as he kept up the rear. Instead of making a clear run to the cantina, the Twi'lek led them towards the loading area of the Czerka outpost, where there'd be plenty of cover. Smart.
Vale ran but managed to catch her breath, and in the meantime kept tabs on everything going on, falling back into hold habits the longer she ran with it.
Acid and adrenaline ran her veins as she kept up with the Twi'lek and the Wookiee, both of them hazarding glances and shots back over their shoulders. Vale ran with her staff in one hand, electrifying the air around them as they rushed forward, and her blaster in the other. Trigger ready, she looked back to find the Wookiee firing at nothing, the droid lolling at his side.
The Twi'lek pulled Vale back into cover once they reached the restocking station, reloading her weapon and looking over the edge of the cargo canister they were now breathing heavily against.
"If that sonofa-"
But before the words were out of her mouth, the air sizzled with energy behind them, and Vale knew her shock staff wasn't the one responsible.
The figure from earlier stood nearby, and though Vale couldn't see him, she could sense him.
This was no regulated static charge - it was the Force.
A crackle electrified the air again and the Twi'lek's eyes widened, her grip firming on her blaster. The Wookiee growled, swatting at his now static charged hair. There was silence, and then another round of blaster fire, only this time, it wasn't from the Twi'lek beside her. Vale glanced around the cargo container, spying a rifle poised from the roof of the Czerka building and nearby a trail of Zabrakian horns poking out from the side of a vent exhaust. Darek.
The yard stirred, and though the stranger remained hidden, two others joined the firefight.
Two Czerka-clad officers slipped out the back entrance of the outpost, assuming positions behind other nearby cargo as two security cameras swiveled along the wall behind them. Vale heard the buzz of a comlink just before one of the officers opened fire.
A pipe ruptured nearby, and the figure emerged again, but unafraid. He walked to the center of the unloading station and stood, waiting.
Blaster fire filled the air again, missing the cloaked figure entirely. With a wave of his hand, one of the Czerka officers lurched sideways and into his partner, leaving them both in a muddled heap.
Another shot rang through the space, echoing off the canisters, this time managing to singe the sleeve of the figure's cloak. As Darek took his second shot, a beam of violet light sliced through the air, deflecting it. One of the security cams burst into sparks, subdued by the flames that followed.
Hood drawn, the figure's face remained concealed, though their intentions laid bare. Dark gloved hands bristled with electricity as the violet light disappeared into the hilt of a crude metallic cylinder, now holstered at the stranger's hip.
A lightsaber.
"What in the hell?" the Twi'lek muttered at her side, equally in awe.
Darek did not dare fire again, and Vale watched as he retreated, out of sight. She had no idea where the others were, but she knew they must be nearby. If they knew what was good for them, they would continue retreating and not look back until Anchorhead and all of Tatooine were far, far behind them. Other shots fired. More head hunters were on their tail, and gaining on them. If they didn't think quickly, they'd have nowhere to run.
Vale's mind churned with questions she knew she was not yet be able to answer, yet somehow, she trusted the girl beside her and her Wookiee companion. If anything, they wanted to see her out of this mess. Even if they were only in it for the price on her head, they at least wanted to bring her in alive, and she could work with that. As for the figure standing before them, the only thing she could imagine he wanted was the crystals, the ancient holocrons still safe in Glitch's pack – or so she hoped. If they were smart, Orex and the others had resumed their escape… and Vale could buy them time.
She stood, holstering her blaster. The Twi'lek grabbed at her hand, but Vale pulled back. Her shock staff at the ready, she faced the hooded figure and waited for him to make a move. She assumed her position, falling into pseudo-Makashi formation, and waited.
Her shock staff bristled with blue-white light, rivaling the electric tendrils that snaked the idle hands of the stranger.
"It's been a while," a male voice admitted, almost informally, his voice gravelly but wistful.
Vale faltered. She was missing something. She expected his words to be menacing, but they were sorrowful, heavy with regret. Maybe he wasn't here for the holocrons, maybe he was-
She almost expected him to continue, to explain himself, and though his voice betrayed him, he extended a hand with a violent thrust and Vale felt her feet leave the floor. Her throat tightened, the breath squeezed out of her lungs as she lunged forward. Within the span of a moment, Vale rushed through the open air, her limbs dangling, as the stranger puppeteered her toward him with the pull of the Force.
She sputtered, gasping for air on her hands and knees, at his feet.
It only took her a moment to gather her breath and to push the disgust that rose at the back of her throat at the stranger's display, but she remained on her knees, watching the outsider with her peripheral vision, her keen senses tracking his movements and the calm complacency that settled over him at the sight of her supposed submission.
And just when he thought he had the upper hand, she grabbed his ankle and jerked it toward him, pulling him off his feet.
"Doesn't feel so great, does it?" she sneered, pulling herself upright again.
Vale reactivated her shock staff and prodded the man's chest, but her limbs almost went slack at the sight of him.
His hood displaced by the fall, the man's pale face lay exposed to the twin suns above, revealing familiar green eyes, so much like hers and yet so different just the same. They'd changed. So much had changed.
"It has been a while," she found herself saying, her voice a hoarse whisper now despite her defiant words only moments before.
A question formed in her mind, the words rattling around her mouth unsurely, but a rustling in the alleyway drew her attention before she could fathom the composure to speak.
Vale's eyes darted, but her staff remained poised, pinning the man to the ground. Aiden, Vale thought, after all this time.
He stirred. Without thinking, she prodded him the chest with force, suddenly reminded of their youth, but also recalling only moments before when he had used the Force against her. Her stomach churned.
"Not so fast," she uttered, all sentiment dissolving from her tone of voice. Vale narrowed her eyes and hissed, "We're not done here, yet."
"So, some things never do change," he spat back at her, his eyes indignant, glaring. It was only now she noticed just how unnaturally green they had become – bright and menacing, no longer their natural soothing sage.
Vale prodded him again.
"Evidently."
The Twi'lek and the Wookiee changed positions, having inched closer to Vale in the moments that followed. She felt the Twi'lek's eyes on her, her blue lekku visible in her peripheral vision as she assumed position beside a nearby crate, her blaster at the ready.
Vale shot the girl a look, still unsure of her next move. The girl's brown eyes darted between Vale and Aiden, though Vale doubted he went by that name anymore. Without speaking, the girl nodded, and looked over the edge of the crate to get a better look at the alley beyond. She didn't seem to see anything either, but the Twi'lek poised her blaster instead, still careful to aim and take cover at the same time.
Aiden squirmed again, his hands prickling with static lightning once more.
"I can destroy you," he said, his voice finally assuming the venomous authority Vale had expected the first time he opened his mouth.
"So, what are you waiting for?"
Vale thrust the edge of her shock staff into Aiden's chest, their electrical currents mingling for a moment before he laughed. His voice was hollow but guttural. Aiden had never been this strong, nor this confident. Cocky, yes, and self-assured, but never when it came to physical endeavors. His command of the Force had been elementary, his skills best put to use in the Jedi Archives. Vale had never known a more brilliant mind, but that hadn't stopped him from slinging insults at her when she told him about joining Revan's cause. As much as things were undoubtedly different, he was right. Some things didn't change much, no matter how many years had passed.
Aiden seethed, seemingly unable to control his anger or use it to his advantage. Isn't that how Sith harnessed their power? Through hatred and anger, fear and violence? Maybe that's what's changed, Vale thought to herself. Perhaps he had begun to put his bitterness to other uses.
For a moment, Vale had almost forgotten the world outside the one where only she and the man she once called her brother stood in a deadlock. There was someone else here in the yard with them, she could feel it, but she couldn't see them. She jabbed at Aiden again.
"Where are they?" she demanded, knowing he could reach out with the Force, but Aiden remained sputtering, angry and red in the face on the ground beneath her. She shoved at him again.
"I said, where are they?"
Her blood was boiling, and the voice that escaped her throat didn't feel like her own. Catching herself off-guard, she blanched, shocked at her own words and the seething hatred that fueled them. But just as she came back to herself, she saw Aiden's face contort with rage, feeding off of her. In a flash of movement, her brother grabbed hold of her shock staff, the electrical current circulating with his own now, and he brought himself back to his feet, sending Vale back.
Staggering, she held her grip as Aiden knocked her back into a cargo canister. She yanked the staff from his prying hands, but she wasn't exactly sure what she planned to do with it. Aiden stood there menacing, a sickly grin plastered across his gaunt face. It was then that she noticed just how pale he was, how twisted his face had become. His features assumed the sharp angles of the bones underneath, abandoning the warmth they once possessed beneath freckled cheeks that often blushed when speaking with his superiors at the Academy. There was hardly anything familiar about him, and yet, Vale saw a reflection of herself in his eyes, a reflection of something she could have become but turned away from.
Vale caught her breath and pulled her blaster out of its holster just as Aiden revealed his lightsaber, still attached to his belt behind his billowing cloak. She braced herself.
His hand reached for the hilt of the weapon, but before his fingers could detach it fully, a body came soaring out of the air, knocking Aiden to the ground.
The new stranger's hood fell as she landed square on her feet, immediately assuming a solid Echani stance upon gaining her balance. It was another girl, this one pale and human, short white hair cropped to frame her porcelain face and the fierce ice-blue eyes set in a determined stare.
"You again," Aiden muttered, the words dripping with poison.
Taken aback, Vale stepped away, looking for the Twi'lek – but the Twi'lek found her first.
"Explain later, go now."
She grabbed her arm again and guided her towards the Czerka station's back entrance. As much as the girl was right, she wanted to know what in the hell was going on?! First the bounty on her head, then the ambush, her brother? And who was that young woman? Was she another Jedi? A rival Sith? Who was she that she thought she could take on a man who had just displayed the ability to manipulate lightning? And who exactly was she following anyway? Vale had the feeling that the girl knew Orex, given her liberal use of the word "friends". She swallowed her reservations, her regrets, and shot one last look back at her estranged brother, still alive after all this time.
Trailing the Twi'lek and droid-carrying Wookiee, Vale hurried alongside them through the Czerka office, ignoring the startled employees as they rushed passed. She heard what must have been a manager call after the men they had sent into the docking yard earlier and call for backup, but they were out the door and rushing into the street before the woman could ask what under the suns they thought they were doing.
The usual afternoon bustle swallowed them whole. Vale looked over the crowd as they ran. Dust filled the sky where her shop had been, and no one other than annoyed bystanders paid them any mind. As far as she could tell they weren't being followed. For now.
Darting between passersby and around shop stalls, they continued on without stopping – until they reached the docking bay. Just as they rounded the corner, the Twi'lek grabbed at Vale's elbow, wheeling her into a side-stall. The purveyor, a wide-eyed Duros, glared at them, muttering a few choice obscenities in Durese under his breath before asking if they planned on buying anything with a pained (and obviously faked) cheerful disposition. All three ignored him.
After catching their breath, the only thing the Twi'lek said was, "Act casual."
The girl squared her shoulders, drawing herself up in height as the Wookiee did just the opposite. He slumped casually beneath the weight of the droid still splayed over his shoulders and nodded in Vale's direction, urging them onward. The Twi'lek looked at Vale for a reaction. After a moment of confusion, she nodded in haste.
"Yeah sure, whatever."
The Twi'lek and the Wookiee exchanged glances again before leading the way. The three of them blended in as effortlessly as possible into the milling crowd, the girl fumbling through her pockets like any other spacer with leisure on their side might for her docking pass and ID card. They sidled up the dock officer, the Twi'lek smiling sweetly.
"Looks like we'll be heading out now, Miss-" she read the woman's name tag carefully, "Deena."
She smiled again, sliding her documentation across the log-in console at the red-haired woman before them, clad in a somber smile.
"Leaving so soon?" the woman asked, sincere. Vale rolled her eyes.
The Twi'lek tried to act as nonchalantly as possible, but every time she steered the conversation toward giving them clearance, the more questions the dock officer asked. It was only a matter of time before she noted the unrest in the crown behind them, the bounty hunters and mercenaries undoubtedly catching up, and word about the "unsanctioned destruction" of the droid shop reached her ears.
As soon as her documents were scanned and their clearance granted, the Twi'lek swiped her stuff back and shoved them into her pockets as they sauntered onward with a running start.
Vale's eyes scanned the crowd of departures and arrivals for any sign of Asra, Orex, Darek or Glitch, but it was all a blur. Her new companions seemed equally lost until a comlink buzz from the girl's belt got their attention. They were still half-running, half-walking as she answered.
Indecipherable chatter erupted from the comm, the Twi'lek shaking it with haste in an attempt to clear the signal. "Damn it."
"Did you come here on a ship or what?" Vale finally asked, under her breath, trying to sound as nonjudgmental as possible.
"Of course we did!" the Wookiee growled.
"They were supposed to meet us three loops ago," the Twi'lek muttered back. Vale realized they had been walking around in circles.
Finally, identifiable words emerged from the comm, garbled but clear enough.
"Change of plans, meet us in Docking Bay 94! I repeat, Docking Bay 94!"
It was Asra.
The Twi'lek and the Wookiee exchanged glances just as another explosion sent them forward. Near enough to the blast zone, they tumbled into the passersby ahead of them, the crowd worked into an instant frenzy.
The Wookiee groaned.
"I have a feeling that was ours," the Twi'lek responded, pained, but they were running out of time. She grabbed Vale by the elbow again as they ducked under the door with the numbers 9 and 4 poorly plastered above it.
Inside the hangar bay was a vessel far too small for the landing pad, but the image sent chills down Vale's spine nonetheless. It was one of Revan's ships. A basic Imperial shuttle, nothing flashy, but she could tell by the armor plating that it had come from the Star Forge long ago. Or was the damn thing still suspended in space, churning out ships for all eternity?
The girl led Vale up into the belly of the ship, hardly getting a good look at the thing before boarding the on-ramp. Before she could ask any more questions, Asra pulled her aboard, taking her hand as she reached the inner belly of the small beast.
"What a day, huh?" the Togruta teased, though the anguish was clear on her face.
Vale nodded, wondering if she had wandered into a dream, as the loading ramp closed behind them.
What a day, indeed. But it wasn't over yet.
