Savior Self

Taris part twelve.

Rated PG13

Disclaimer: I will own Star Wars eventually. Then it's Japan. Then it's Krispy Kreme. And then… THE WORLD!

Savior Self

Cortessa was given some water and a five-minute break. The cam occasionally caught her on the sidelines, her eyes closed, the color slowly coming back to her face, as her mechanic tsked at her for nearly destroying the bike when she had flipped it.

More Vulkars and Beks went, but only one managed to come close to her score, and they still lost.

Finally, one Vulkar went ahead, and beat her time by a hair. The Beks screamed their protests, slamming their fists on any nearby flat surface and brandishing bottles. Mission, now slightly tipsy, could only mumble obscenities and stand up straight.

The mechanic spat on the Vulkar, Redros, as he passed.

Cortessa got to her feet and approached the Duros race announcer. She seemed surer on her feet, now. The cam zoomed on her as she told the announcer she wanted to race another heat.

"Okay," said the announcer. "Let's get you on the track."

Her bike was hauled out again and she jumped loftily aboard. She was deliberate in what she did now and gripped the controls tightly, her feet poised on the brake and accelerator. The clock clicked down and she shot off again with a bang, leaving her mechanic coughing.

She hit nothing this time. She grabbed almost every booster. She raced with beauty and self-awareness this time around, and Carth found himself unable to look away. The finish line was coming up. Another lap and she was done.

Then a young Duros, not even yet out of diapers, tottered into the track to play with the debris in the middle of the road.

Cortessa slammed on the brakes, and the cam zoomed in on her stunned expression as she went flying over the hood of her bike, landing right in its way as it shot forward without its rider.

Everyone screamed, looking away to avoid the gory end to such a fine race, but Carth could not bring himself to. To his utter astonishment, Cortessa did the amazing.

In the split second she hadthrownherself to the ground, swinging her arm out to knock the infant aside. It landed somewhere on the side of the track, unharmed, as the bike whooshed an inch over Cortessa's head. The wind it made ruffled her hair and the back of its engine smacked her in the head, and the exhaust singed the back of her clothes.

The announcer was sputtering. Several onlookers had fainted.

Carth stared, wide-eyed, at Cortessa's body. She lay there flat on her stomach, not moving, her racing suit burnt all the way from her heels to her neck. She had almost made it… What a dreadful end to such a charming person.

Mission looked back and moaned with despair. The Duros infant had been scooped up by a nearby onlooker and handed to its mother, who was pallid and shaking. The cam zoomed in on the family before it panned around the track and aimed at the bike, which had crashed on the side of the track and remained there, burning.

The room was dead silent. A few of the more emotional Bek members had begun to cry. Carth felt numb. It didn't seem real. Just like that, she had died. She hadn't even been lost in a glorious explosion it was just… abrupt… pointless.

The cam zoomed in on her body, where the medics had just arrived. A Duros and a Twi'lek knelt at her side, barking orders to each other, when suddenly she stirred.

Screaming and shouting with horrified surprise, the medics scrambled backwards. The announcer could be heard swearing liberally and the Beks all cried out with astonishment.

Slowly, unsurely, Cortessa rose to her feet, a charred corpse stepping from its grave. Her face was dirty, her hands were charred, and her hair was wild, but she was alive, for her blue eyes stared out at them beneath the grime.

Stunned silence swept over the whole of Taris. Everyone was holding their breath.

Very slowly, she raised her hand and waved. The room erupted with cheers, and people jumped up and down, dousing each other in alcohol and slapping each other on the backs. Cortessa remained standing and the crowd rushed forward to hug her. Carth felt as if he was going to faint with relief. Mission let out a shriek of exhilaration, punching the air.

"YEAH!" she screamed. "GO CORTY!"

The medics recovered and pulled Cortessa from the mob and dragged her into a tent nearby, where they tended to her. The race was postponed an hour, with Redros's score still at the top.

Carth wanted to go down to the track, but he was not allowed to. So he and Mission and Zaalbar were stuck waiting in the cafeteria, amongst the rowdy Hidden Beks.

When Cortessa did emerge, she looked as if none of it had ever happened. Her suit was fresh and her hair was clean, and her skin was hidden behind not a single fleck of dirt. To everyone's surprise, she raced another heat.

Everyone expected something amazing to happen again, but nothing eventful occurred. She just went around the track quickly, hitting nothing, and reached the finish line with a time of 00:23:24.

The fastest Taris record in a history of fifty years.

The Beks in the cafeteria went absolutely wild, screaming and cheering so loudly Carth's head rang.

Mission grabbed Carth's hand and grinned up at him, bouncing up and down. "She won!" she cried. "She didn't even die! Nobody's going to beat that time! Nobody!"

As was tradition, the race went on until the end of the day, when the Duros announcer called the attention of both gangs. "Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the winter of the year's swoop race!" he barked. The cafeteria shook with the Bek's applause. The Duros motioned for Cortessa to step forward. "Put your hands together and show your appreciation of the most daring riders this swoop track has ever seen!"

If that wasn't the understatement of a year. She had survived being run over by a swoop bike!

"Through your skill and courage you have proven yourself the premier swoop rider on Taris, and brought great glory to the Hidden Bek gang! Now, here to present the champion's prize: Brejik, the leader of the Black Vulkars."

A dark-skinned man with a hooked nose stepped forth, dressed in tight armor that made his head look too small. He lifted his hands and the cheering dulled down. He spoke, his face twisting with anger. "People – hear me! Before I present the so-called champion of the Beks with her prize, there is something you must know: the winning rider cheated!"

Everyone gasped. All eyes turned to Cortessa. She lost her composure, her eyes flickering with unmasked fury. "You're a damn liar, Brejik!" she roared.

Brejik slapped her in front of everyone, and the world shuddered with a unified gasp. Mission and Carth knew all too well that Brejik had just crossed the line, and he was now a dead man. What he said then didn't matter, for as he spoke them to everyone else around him, Cortessa had recovered and was drawing her vibroblades, her eyes burning with hatred.

"Her swoop bike was using a prototype accelerator – clearly an unfair advantage! Because of this Hidden Bek treachery I'm withdrawing the Vulkar's share of the victory prize!"

The announcer sputtered with rage. "You can't do this, Brejik!" he cried. "You know the rules: nobody's allowed to withdraw a victory prize after the race. It goes against all our most sacred traditions!"

Carth watched Cortessa and cold dread filled his stomach. Her mechanic and the Rodian that had brought her there earlier were desperately trying to hold her back. Her blades burned white on the screen.

Brejik foolishly ignored her, thinking his armor would protect him against her. "You old fool!" he shouted to the Duros, who looked as if he was going to pass out from terror. "Your traditions mean nothing to me – I am the wave of the future! If I want to withdraw the prize and sell this woman on the slave market myself, nobody can stop me!"

Just as Cortessa managed to free herself and had poised her blade about Brejik's head, the woman in the cage stirred. The cam gave a jump and quickly zoomed in on her as she looked up and smiled nastily, her dark blue eyes swirling with her inner power.

"I might have something to say about that, Brejik," she growled, and the cage exploded, sending her guard sprawling with a metal rod through his back. She knelt down and grabbed his weapon, her eyes fixed on the rest of the Black Vulkars.

Brejik stammered, and his skin turned pale brown. "What? Impossible! YOU were restrained by a neural disruptor! How could you have possibly summoned the will to free yourself?"

Bastila gave the double-sided vibroblade a twirl and nodded with satisfaction. "You underestimate the strength of a Jedi's mind, Brejik," she said coolly. "A mistake you won't live to regret."

Brejik panicked. "Vulkars – to me!" he screamed. "Kill them! Kill this woman! Kill the swoop rider! Kill them –!"

He didn't get to finish his sentence. Cortessa had jammed her vibroblade through the back of his skull and the tip of it now glinted ruby red between his lips. Blood gushed over the front of his armor and he jerked once before he gave way and died.

Cortessa flicked him away, beyond the range of the cam, and the screen went blank.

The cafeteria was dead silent. The Beks stared at each other, each one paler than the last, and their food lay forgotten on the counters.

Mission stared at Carth and he nodded. Silently (and no one stopped him), he paid for Mission's drinks and led the group out the door.

------

The swoop track was still barricaded from the public, so no one could go down and see what was going on. But if someone pressed their ear to the door the sound of blasterfire and the clang of bladed weapons was obvious.

Everyone thought that Cortessa had died. Despite her murder of Brejik, she looked to be too frail to survive against an entire swoop gang.

Carth and Mission knew better. So, leading a reluctant Zaalbar, they went back to their apartment and holed up in there for a while.

Sure enough, about an hour later, Cortessa limped in, muddy and ragged. Her hair fell in her eyes, masking them, but Carth could tell from the way she held herself that she was feeling wretched. He reached out and grabbed her hand, and she looked up at him gratefully.

Another woman stepped inside, her hair pulled back still in its complicated bangles, her breasts practically leering at them all inside that horrid outfit the Vulkars had forced upon her. To make up for it, she wore Cortessa's vest, which Cortessa didn't look too happy about.

Carth, despite himself, cried out with joy. "Bastila!" he cried. "You're alive!" Well, of course she was alive. She was a Jedi! But he had feared the worst – worrying that their entire mission was in vain. Apparently not, for here Bastila stood. "Finally, things are looking up!"

Cortessa's hands slithered out from his and got lost in her pockets.

Carth continued, ignoring the obvious warning signs from both women. "Now we just need to figure out a way to get off this planet."

Bastila wrinkled her nose. "You mean you don't have a plan to get off Taris yet?" she said incredulously. "What have you been doing all this time?" Carth sensed that she, too, was expecting the least of him in a crisis, and had assumed that he and Cortessa… well. His face turned red with embarrassment and anger.

Cortessa spoke up in a hissing voice, her tone clearly resentful. "We were trying to find you, remember?"

Bastila looked at her, raising her eyebrows scrupulously. "I see," she said. "Well, now that I'm back in charge of this mission, perhaps we can start doing things properly. Hopefully our escape from Taris will go more smoothly than when you 'rescued' me from Brejik."

Cortessa snarled. Carth's anger blew. "I know you're new at this, Bastila, but a leader doesn't berate her troops just because things aren't going as planned!" he shouted. "Don't let your ego get in the way of the real issues here!"

Bastila cocked her head in a haughty way, folding her arms. "That hardly strikes me as an appropriate way of addressing your commander, Carth," she spat. "I am a member of the Jedi Order and this is my mission. Don't forget that!" She took a deep breath and went on a romantic rant about herself. "My Battle Meditation ability has helped the Republic many times in this war, and it will serve us as well here, I am sure."

Carth sneered. "Your talents may win us a few battles, but that doesn't make you a good leader! A good leader would at last listen to the advice of those who have seen more combat than she ever will!" He was beginning to like working under Cortessa's leadership more – at least she had respect. Her constant questions were far better than Bastila's lack of concern.

"Both of you shut the hell up!" Cortessa screamed at last, and Mission piped in from the background: "Yeah!"

Zaalbar took a deep breath and roared his agreement.

Bastila, paling beneath the Wookiee, consented. "Yes… you're right, of course," she mumbled. "I apologize, Carth. This has been a difficult time for me. Of course I'm happy to listen to your advice. What do you suggest we do?"

Carth wanted to seal the matter off for good. "First of all, we can't get hung up on who's in charge; we all need to work together if we want to get off this rock. The answer's out there, we just need to find it."

Bastila nodded. "Well said, Carth. And the sooner we start looking the better; I've already been a prisoner of the Vulkars and I don't plan on being captured by the Sith."

Cortessa was impatient. "Let's get on it, then!"

Bastila glared at her. "I think we'll need some help getting off Taris," she said. "Maybe if we ask around one of the locals can help us out. We should probably start by asking around the cantinas."

Cortessa rolled her eyes and flopped on her bed. "I'm going to lights-out," she informed them all. "We have a busy day tomorrow."

"Rest well," Bastila said, a little reluctantly.

Carth nodded silently, and Mission waved. Zaalbar curled up beside the door and began to snore.

As everyone else went to bed, Carth couldn't help but wonder: What had he gotten himself into?

------

Author's Notes: THANKS SO MUCH FOR 1,650 HITS. Can't find the captain in JekkJekk Tar. Want to stabbity pointless people who just glare at me. I'm running around in circles and getting in trouble with people for opening doors. oo;; And Atton is like, "I don't want to talk to you. We're not 'ready.'" I'm like, "if I beat you at pazaak, will we be ready?" and he's like, "That's not a dialog option." and I'm like, "screw you."

Amme Moto - I liked the catfight, too. I'm glad you noticed it. I'm also glad you noticed her bloodthirstyness... ness...

Dante-Revan - I'm actually several chapters ahead in the story (I like to be two steps ahead). From what I can tell, I get better as the story progresses. Not much, but a little.

SilverSentinal21 - Visas reminds me very strongly of Juhani. I think Bioware has an obsession with Jedi alien girls whose homeworlds were bombed and who seem to be frighteningly attracted to your femal character, and willing to follow her every step.o.O Maybe if we take of Visas'shead mask, she'll actually be Juhani IN DISGUISE. I actually wrote a short little skip where Jolee mistakes Visas for a drape... eh. But yeah. Yay Visas. XD
Actually, though, Imet these Twi'lektwins who told me about Atton's past. And he was like, "Hahahahaha it was fun." And I was like, "o.O"AND I STILL GAINED INFLUENCE. It was awesome. And Kreia was like, "I knew all along. -smirk-" And Visas was like, "Huh? Wha?" And Bao-Dur was like, "I can't heeeearr yoooooooou." And remote was like, "-floaty floaty-"

FaintlyAlarming - Me too. I hope you like this one more.

Ilea Dreike - Nice to see a new face. Hello, there. Thanks for the kind comments, they mean so much.