Savior Self

Taris part eleven, now, is it? I'm so freaking confused. I've stopped caring. From this point on, all Taris labels may be discredited. Ugh.

Rated PG13

Disclaimer: We don't need no stinkin' disclaimers.

Savior Self

The force field gave way with a reluctant flicker. Mission glanced back at Cortessa with a smug smile, eyebrows raised.

"Sure, kid, you've got stuff," Cortessa mumbled, and shoved Mission through the entranceway. Zaalbar made a small noise between amusement and disapproval, so Cortessa stopped.

They sliced through some Gamorreans and rakghouls, and finally came to a steep decline. Mission frowned.

"Rancor straight ahead," she murmured, and Cortessa continued, her heart fluttering in her throat. Her shoulders were tense. No one was breathing loudly. Suddenly something tripped her and she went sprawling, landing on the ground face-first. It wasn't the most graceful descent.

Carth laughed openly. She jumped to her feet and drew her blade, pointing it in his direction. "YOU!" she roared, feeling her face flush with anger.

Mission blanched. "Shh!" she hissed desperately.

Cortessa snarled. Carth smiled weakly. "Wasn't me," he said. He pointed.

Cortessa turned around. A severed arm lay clutching a sack tightly. Unaffected by the grotesqueness of it, she dug around in the sack.

"Hmm," she said, tossing a vial into the air and catching it. She read the datapad. "Turns out we have a way to get rid of this rancor."

"What do you have in mind?" Carth asked slowly, suspiciously.

She hated that suspicion. She shot him the meanest glower she could muster. "I'm gonna throw you to the rancor, Carth, and I'm gonna enjoy watching you die!" she snapped harshly.

Carth frowned. "Point taken," he muttered.

She switched on her stealth and snuck out to the rancor's nest. It was more frightening than she could have imagined. The place stank of death and feces. The air was thick and oppressing. The walk was long and silent, and every second made her feel more and more tense, and her mine began to spin with the pressure. She crept over to a corpse pile and grabbed a skull. Carth gasped in the doorway as two bones clinked together.

The rancor – a huge, quivering mass of flesh and muscle in the corner – didn't even stir. Cortessa continued, slowly slipping a grenade between the skull's teeth. Quickly, she popped the cap off of the synthesized odor and dumped it all over the skull before she bolted for it, stumbling blindly for the door. She threw herself into Carth's arms and covered her ears. Mission screamed.

The rancor had eaten the skull. It roared, and the noise was so loud the walls shook. The monster thrashed about madly, twisting and writhing, before it fell over, dead. Blood ran exceedingly from its open mouth, pooling on the floor. Its dead body retched once. Mission blanched and seemed to be struggling with her lunch.

Guards sprinted from behind a door nearby to see what the noise was about. One screamed and fainted. The rest spotted Zaalbar's bulk and began firing. Carth picked them off at a distance with Mission, and for once Cortessa did nothing. Once the fight was over, they made their way through the door and into the Vulkar base.

The base was rather quiet. Cortessa supposed most the Vulkars were out in runs, or dead on the streets because of the war. Either way, it was to her benefit – there was little opposition as she cut her way through the base in search for Bastila.

They arrived at the kitchens and slew whoever dared approach them. A pale, shaking, raven-haired woman cowered in the corner, her eyes wide with fear. Cortessa wiped her blades clean on her pants and turned to face her.

The poor wench looked as if she had been dragged through hell and back. Cortessa knelt before her, sheathing her blades and studying this woman. The woman screamed, recoiling quickly as if she had been scalded.

"Please don't hurt me!" she cried desperately, tears pouring down her cheeks. "I just serve the food here! That's all! I'm not like these others – I'm not even a Black Vulkar! Please don't kill me!"

Cortessa's heart softened. She touched the girl's shoulder and the girl screamed, wincing as she waited for the death blow. She couldn't have been more than seventeen. Her face was still round and full and her body was just barely reaching its peak. Cortessa felt sympathy. "What's your name?" she asked gently.

The girl stared at her for a moment and stammered before she found her resolve. "My name is Ada," she said. She seemed to be struggling and her words came out jerky as she battled with her terror and tears. "My father owed Davik some money, but he couldn't pay." She took a deep breath. "Davik killed my father and sold me into slavery here at the Vulkar compound to pay off the debt."

Cortessa gasped. How awful! But she knew she had to do business first, but she swore to let this girl go free. "Don't worry, I won't hurt you," she said warmly. "I just want to ask you a few questions."

Ada's eyes grew wide and she bit her lip. "But I don't know anything!" she cried desperately in her panic. "I'm just a prisoner here – a slave! The Vulkars don't tell me anything, they treat me like dirt, they beat me if I screw up their orders!"

Carth knelt beside Cortessa and gently grasped Ada's shoulder, his eyes firm but warm. "You may know more than you think, miss," he said. "Help us and we'll help you, okay?"

He seemed to calm her down. Her head stopped reeling and she took a deep breath. "Well… alright," she said. "I still don't know how much help I can be. But I sure hope you get rid of all the Vulkars. I hate them!"

Cortessa nodded. "We're looking for another prisoner. A woman named Bastila."

Ada's eyes grew wide again and recognition struck her features. "Is she that Republic soldier?" she gasped. "I-I heard one of those Vulkars mention her, but she's not here. He said Brejik didn't trust his men around her." Her voice grew bitter and sad. "I guess she's too important to be a slave here in the kitchens getting pawed and groped and kicked and spit on like me. Brejik must have taken her somewhere safe." Her lip quivered.

Cortessa brushed her hair out of her eyes. "If I let you go can you find your way out of here?" she asked.

Ada looked up at her, her eyes shining with relief. "Now that you've killed the guards who were supposed to watch me I think I could find my way out of here," she said desperately.

Cortessa grinned. "Alright then, hurry. Run out of here."

Ada screamed with joy. "I'm free to go? You're not going to kill me?" She hugged Cortessa tightly, sobbing. "I don't know how I can ever repay you! Thank you! Thank you! I… I…" She blinked. "I have to get out of here before any of the Vulkars see me." She jumped to her feet and bolted, giggling as she ran.

Carth grinned at Cortessa. "That was a good thing you did," he told her.

She rolled her eyes. "As if I would have done anything else to her," she muttered unhappily, and got to her feet. Carth frowned, watching her as she rose.

"Hey, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she spat back. She didn't really feel like talking to him – not after how he'd been treating her. He sensed this and fell into a wounded silence.

Mission frowned. "You guys aren't going to get into another fight again, are you?" she asked reluctantly.

Zaalbar looked at them. "What?" he said. "Are the humans fighting?"

Mission sighed. "I dunno, Big Z. They never talk about it. They just get mad."

"Is that unusual for humans?" Zaalbar asked.

Mission tilted her head to one side. "I guess. They either really hate each other or really like each other." She ignored their mortified cries and continued. "Either way, it's getting on my nerves. You'll see in time, Big Z. It doesn't take long for them to snap."

Cortessa glowered and continued on. She picked the lock on a nearby door to reveal a startled-looking Twi'lek. Mission cried out as a blaster shot narrowly missed her headtail. She ducked and Cortessa charged, slashing his chest with her vibroblade. The Twi'lek cried out, clutching his chest, and sank to his knees. Blood ran fresh and hot between his fingers.

Mission stared, horribly entranced.

"I surrender!" the Twi'lek gasped. "I surrender! Please don't kill me! I'm not like these others! I'm not like Brejik and his new Vulkars!"

Cortessa frowned, considering this Twi'lek. "What are you on about?" she said, not bothering to keep the contempt out of her voice. "You're a Vulkar, aren't you?"

The Twi'lek nodded, desperate to appease her and get her into letting him leave. "I'm a Vulkar," he said. "But I was here long before Brejik took over. I was a Vulkar back when it meant something. Back when we had honor." His voice was bitter. "Then Brejik and his followers took over and turned our gang into a bunch of violent thugs and bloodthirsty punks. Now they treat all us original Vulkars like second-class citizens. Take me, for example. I used to be one of the highest ranking Vulkars in the gang. Now I'm stuck on guard duty here in the back, all thanks to Brejik!"

Cortessa didn't understand. "If you hate Brejik so much, why don't you leave?"

The Twi'lek shrugged, glancing at Mission once and raking her with an approving gaze. She glowered back at him and folded her arms protectively. The Twi'lek sighed and spoke again. "I've been trying to work up the courage to leave, but it's not that easy. Brejik's followers will try to hunt down anyone who leaves the Vulkar gang. He says he won't let traitors live." He forced an abrupt, angry laugh. "Ha! Brejik and his followers are the real traitors! They turned on Gadon and now they slaughter the Beks in the streets… and anyone else they happen to run across. Brejik knows anyone with character will never willingly follow a leader like him, so he uses brutality and violence to stay in power."

Cortessa was getting bored. "Look, I need some information, if you'd please."

The Twi'lek grinned. "Yeah, sure. Whatever you want to know. It's not like I owe that scum lord Brejik anything."

Cortessa tossed her head. "Where can I find the prototype accelerator?"

The Twi'lek blinked. "Right – that gadget Brejik stole from the Beks. He's got the accelerator in the basement garage. The only way down is by using the security elevator in the back of the base. By the security elevator is protected by auto-targeting laser cannons. You'll be vaporized before you ever get near it, unless you get your hands on a pass card."

Cortessa's curiosity was piqued. "Where can I get a pass card?"

The Twi'lek rolled his shoulders. "If I had one myself, I'd give it to you. But Brejik only gives them to his lieutenants. You'd have to get a pass card from one of them, but I doubt they'd just hand it over to you."

She gave her head a thoughtful twitch. "I want to ask you something else," she said.

He nodded. "Sure."

"I'm looking for a prisoner. A woman named Bastila."

Recognition flittered over the Twi'lek's face, but it was quickly erased by wry sarcasm. "Yeah, right. Brejik would just leave a trophy like that in here with this scum." He shook his head. "He's got her stashed away somewhere safe, I'd guess. Somewhere outside this base."

Cortessa frowned and exchanged glances with Carth. Bad news. She sighed. "Alright, fine. Get out of here, you. I'm going to let you live."

The Twi'lek bolted without a second thought, leaving Cortessa there with a rising problem. "Let's go get that pass card," she said. "But hold on. I want to try and hack the system." She approached a consol nearby and hacked in. She knew she was shaking because the commands were hard to get in, but she finally managed to get it right.

When she finished, she had shut down all security doors, and had found away to overloud a power conduit in the rec. room, killing the majority of Vulkars inside. Knowing at least one remained, she drew her vibroblades and stepped inside. Sure enough, one lone Vulkar remained, and tried to attack her, but with a smooth slice upwards, she drove her blade through his heart.

Carth shifted uneasily behind her. "It's unnerving how you fight like that," he said.

She ignored him, rooting around in the Vulkar's remains. When she finished, she flashed him the pass card she had unearthed.

"Let's go get that accelerator so we can win that swoop race and save Bastila," she said.

Mission rolled her eyes. "You make it sound so easy."

Cortessa rested her hands on her hips. "Would you rather I make it sound impossible?"

"Would you rather I slap you across the face?" Mission countered.

The sheer ridiculousness of it made Cortessa break out in laughter. Zaalbar sighed, shaking his shaggy head, and Carth grinned absently. Mission struggled for a moment before she, too, began to laugh. They hung on each other, giggling insanely for several minutes, before they calmed down.

"Let's get moving," Cortessa gasped at last, wiping a tear from her eye. "We still have a lot to do."

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Author's Notes: Boom! Oh, and my current assessment for KOTOR II: Not as deep as KOTOR I, far more confusing, a lot more stressful, and not as fun. Still, though, it's an okay game. Atton's character is interesting. I've been playing the game a lot, trying to get into it. I CANNOT get influence with Kreia. It's like she has a pair of breeding gizka up her skirt.

FaintlyAlarming - How're you? XD

SilverSentinal21 - I'm sorry that someone harrassed you about your religion. I imagine it must be pretty hard to take.

Amme Moto - Getting used to Telos. MANAAN SUCKS. Oh my god... I hated it... I ran around in circles for days before I could find the Republic Embassy. And Sunry's murder trial... UGH.