Legacies

15 ATC. Rakata Prime.

If it was uninhabited, this would be a beautiful planet. The view from the landing zone, white sand beach and pristine water as far as she can see, makes her wish for a bathing suit and a drink with a little umbrella in it. The pieces of wreckage do rather spoil the scenery, though, and if her experience on Tatooine is anything to go by she's guessing the natives aren't friendly.

Still, Nine strips down to her undershirt while she waits to review the mission parameters, letting the sun shine on her shoulders. It's hot, after all, the warmth a pleasant change from the chill breeze of Manaan; maybe she'll even manage a hint of a tan. (Probably not. Probably sunburn and more damned freckles, but one can hope.)

She's also pretty sure, as she bends to lay her jacket on the Nightshrike's steps, that that 'pub agent's staring. When she looks back over her shoulder his sightline flicks upward about two degrees, settling on her back holster.

Definitely staring. Hm.

"My eyes are up here, Republic."

He blinks, then gestures toward the small of his own back. "Just looking at your holdout."

"My holdout. Really." She turns fully around, drawling out the words in amusement. "Assessing my weaknesses?"

Theron- she should use his name, since the four of them seem to be stuck together for the time being (a Sith Lord, a Cipher, an SIS agent and a Wookiee- a list that ought to end with "walk into a bar," really)- shrugs. "Let's call them limitations, if we're pretending to be friendly. Don't you worry you can't draw it left-handed?"

"Very diplomatic of you. But," she says, lifts her right hand and waves at him as she twists her left behind her back, drawing the little blaster and bringing it forward for him to see, "limitations are for amateurs. Modified release. And a centered holster gets in the way of my rifle."

That might have been a nod of approval; not exactly a chatterbox, him. "Fair. I'm ready when you are, by the way."

She crosses back over to where he's standing, looks over the planned route on the map projected onto the side of Jakarro's ship. "I didn't realize there were still this many Rakata alive."

"Outside of this planet, there aren't. There were more a few hundred years ago, from what I've read, when Revan was here. But ever since the Star Forge was destroyed this place has been pretty much off limits." Theron gestures toward one of the larger pieces, a colossal shard of twisted metal at least a quarter-kilometer long. Three whole sentences in a row- that's the most he's said since they all left Manaan. She might actually be winning him over. "They're dying off, little by little."

"Normally I'd call that hypocrisy," she says, "but given the first Rakata I met tried to turn an entire research base into cybernetic slaves, I'd call it good riddance. And didn't Revan want to use the Star Forge? It looks an awful lot like he blew it up."

He shakes his head. "You don't know the story, clearly."

"Not really, no. I know Revan was a Jedi and then a Sith and then a Jedi again, and then he tried to kill the Emperor and ended up imprisoned for three hundred years." Until you idiots let him out and he tried to build another army, she doesn't say. She'd read some of the Revan dossier, years ago, but they were focused on weaknesses then, not deep details of the man's biography. "We don't focus on Jedi history much."

"That's-" he clearly wants to add something more, but bites his lip- "that's the very short version, yeah. You're missing a pretty big chunk out of the middle. But no, he tried to use it the first time. The second time he came back to- he destroyed it, that time, so it wouldn't be used."

She waves a hand dismissively. "Like I said, Jedi history's not my thing."

He shrugs and turns back to the map as Lana comes striding down the exit ramp.

"Are you ready, Cipher?" Lana, too, looks to the map. "Feel free to bring whichever of your crew you prefer. Jakarro's agreed to be our distraction, so he'll be heading out momentarily. I've tracked Darth Arkous and Colonel Darok to the temple complex here-" she points- "which is your destination. On arrival, confirm target presence and activity."

"Wait. I thought we were all moving on the temple together. If they engage I'm going to need more than a two-man team, especially with a Darth in play."

"Avoid direct engagement unless absolutely necessary. Jakarro will be nearby, and we'll be monitoring you from the shuttle here and providing remote support. We need to figure out what they're doing before we decide on a plan of attack." Lana continues marking points of interest with careful swipes of her finger along the projection: the temple and an adjacent courtyard; a few villages along the shoreline; further inland, a stone circle with-

She eyes the map dubiously. "Is that a rancor?"

"Yup." Theron reaches across and adds sharp claws and pointed teeth to the drawing. "Also recommend not engaging the rancor. Take the long way around."

"Noted." She flips him off and turns back to the Sith Lord. "Seriously, though, I'd be happier with a four-person team. I can only cover two with my generator, but can't Theron-"

He shakes his head. "I don't have stealth equipment with me. If you're going in cloaked, you're better off letting me slice from here."

She arches an eyebrow at that. If he was involved in the Republic's strike on Korriban in anywhere near the same capacity Lana had been for Tython he must be fairly high up the food chain, but he's not dressed like it; as far as she can tell he's got two pistols and probably a holdout but no longer-range guns, no decent melee weaponry, no poison, minimal armor and now no stealth. She'd pulled his dossier on the way from Manaan, though it didn't tell her much- he's been active a few years longer than her so he's probably a few years older, but no codenames, a few vague links to old missions but nothing concrete which means either he's never gotten caught or, if he did, he killed his captors. If that's how the SIS supply their elites, no wonder she's run circles around every 'pub agent she's ever met.

(Hunter didn't count.

Hunter wasn't SIS. And in the end, when she slipped her collar, broke free of the leash Hunter used to drag her by, she put a round straight through that bitch's head.)

"Your people don't give you much in the way of kit, do they?" Glancing in his direction again, she gives his gear another once-over. "You- oh, dear. You are a field agent, aren't you? Not that there's anything wrong with data analysis, of course, but-"

"I am not," he narrows his eyes at her, lip curling in irritation, "a desk jockey. I can handle myself just fine."

"Oh, I bet you can." She grins. The expression on his face is somehow familiar- she's sure they've never met before, but he reminds her of someone that she can't quite place. It'll come to her eventually, she's sure.

(Lana giggles.

Oh, shut up, you.)

She ends up bringing Temple; she can still use more practice with stealth and Lana and Theron keep promising, even as they finalize the route and Jakarro takes off along the path toward the first village, that it's just a scouting mission. She hooks the little camera over her ear, connecting the cable to her transmitter so they'll have visual. Get in, report, hold position. Easy.

So of course it goes to complete shit less than an hour in.

The attack on the village should have drawn the Rakata guards off the shoreline path. They should have all been chasing Jakarro by now, but instead they're fortifying the watchposts with more guards and trained beasts, fleeing the villages like cowards but running straight into her path at the same time. She and Raina get past the first two by skirting along the water's edge but the third's a problem- they'll either have to wade and risk being heard, or try to get up over a rock outcropping that takes them dangerously close to the beasts.

She signals; Temple nods, and she draws her pistol and her knife, just in case, as they head up over the rocks.

They would have made it. Halfway past the guards a little sliver of loose stone goes sliding down the cliff face, though, and hearing the noise one of the creatures turns its head, takes a deep sniff- and looks straight at Temple, growling. The Rakata beside it huffs and raises a hand.

They freeze, too late.

She shoves her down as an arc of lightning takes a chunk out of the ledge above their heads and the debris breaks their stealth field. After that it's messy, six Rakata and four warbeasts between the two of them, and even as she gets her generator up again and they wade into the sea to try to purge the scent of blood from their armor she can hear alarm klaxons sounding all the way up the coast.

"The coast route's a no-go." She hisses into her transmitter. "We're blown. Requesting extraction plan from Watchpost Gamma."

"I'm not so sure. The main complex is still quiet." Lana answers back, her tone less confident than her words. "The alarm doesn't appear to have reached them yet. Keep going."

She pulls Temple into an alcove as a patrol team moves past their position. "I've got a bad feeling about this op. Reroute me, but I'd be ready to move in if I were you."

"Take the right-hand path from your position," Theron chimes in. "It'll take you inland."

"Past the rancor."

"Right through it." He sounds entirely too smug. "Unless you don't think you can handle it?"

He's trying to goad her, of course- it's the favorite pastime of rival agencies since the dawn of the modern age, when they're not actively trying to kill each other- and she isn't going to fall for it that easily. Beside her, Temple rolls her eyes. Cocky bastard, she mouths, and she grins and nods agreement. "Watch and learn, Republic. Watch and learn."

One can't sneak past a rancor, not really. It's got far too keen a sense of smell and even after their quick salt-water bath there's still enough blood and enough sweat in their armor for a hunting species to pick up. The best she can hope for, then, is to turn the surroundings to her advantage; she gives Raina and her sniper rifle a boost up onto one of the standing stones around the ring where the creature prowls.

Still hidden, she creeps from the shadow of one stone to the next, gets back behind and downwind of the rancor and raises her knife, signaling up for the first shot as the field around her flickers out and-

She catches sight of the Rakata chief out of the corner of her right eye just before he closes on her and has just enough time to duck; his staff whips through the air above her head and she dodges, rolling forward through the rancor's legs. A rifle shot takes it between the eyes and it roars, stomping, as she dives forward again.

"You could have mentioned the clan chief." She has to shout to be heard over the bellowing as she peers around a pillar, launches a shock dart straight at the charging figure.

"Hold on-" Theron again, accompanied by a very loud metallic bang- "Lana's meditating again, and I lost visual for a sec there. What are you- oh. Well, you've got him contained now, right?"

"For the next ten seconds, at least." She gets around the Rakata as his limbs twitch. Her knife can't cut through the ceremonial collar at his neck so she slashes at the backs of both legs before he can turn. "Are you two trying to get me killed?"

(Of course we weren't, Lana huffs indignantly. It wasn't well-scouted, yes, but-

I realize that now, she grins. But I didn't have the best track record with SIS or the Dark Council at that point, remember. For all I knew, someone had put both of you up to taking me out.

I suppose you have a point.

She shoves another biscuit into Lana's mouth. Of course I do. Now stop interrupting.)

"Don't be-" he sighs. "Look, we'll have better intel when you get to the temple. I've got about three-quarters of their the surveillance system sliced and I'm working on the last few now."

The chief's slower now, at least, staggering around and toward her as a flash off Temple's rifle sight warns her out of the line of fire. "You'd better. I don't do suicide missions."

The shot, unlike her blade, gets through the collar just fine, and with no further distractions the rancor, too, goes down in relatively short order. It's a shame they haven't got time to take the teeth and claws- the last time she fought a rancor she'd had Vector and Doctor Lokin go over the corpse; Lokin had needed rancor bile for his research, for whatever reason, and they'd sold the sharp bits at the Mandalorian Enclave for a pretty sum- but the noise of its death has drawn a crowd, a tight phalanx of guards approaching over the rise of the hill.

Just in time, her generator recharges, and they sneak carefully away toward the temple complex.

The building itself is massive in a way that reminds her more of Korriban than Dromund Kaas. The courtyard fans out around the temple in all directions, great stone steps drawing one's eye up to the high spire in the center, flanked by rough-hewn statues of a masked and hooded figure.

Revan. Fucking Revan, again.

When they'd raided the Foundry the rest of the strike team swore up and down that Revan had died. (Herself, she'd gotten thrown head-first into a pillar and spent the last moments of that desperate fight in stunned semi-consciousness. Not her finest moment.) He couldn't have survived it, they said, all that lightning, even though he hadn't left a body behind- that sometimes happened, apparently, with particularly powerful Force-users. His dream of a droid army, at least, had been quite thoroughly quashed.

They're trying to build an army too, this group of conspirators, so she supposes it makes sense they'd end up here. Their plans on Manaan had failed- Rakata technology there, as well- and there must be some functionality left in that ancient temple. Was that what they'd been looking for in the archives on Korriban and Tython? Maps to ancient places, long lost to living memory. Places like the Foundry, like the Star Forge that used to fill the sky here...

But why?

Theron's voice in her ear derails her train of thought. "Hey. I've got visual on the temple and… um. Did you bring any ion grenades with you?"

"Only two." She pauses. "It's cyborgs again, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Augmented soldiers in a cordon around the entrance. Human, this time, but the tech looks a lot like what you described from the underwater facility."

"How many?"

Silence for a moment, then- "Four? No. Six, and one in heavier armor."

She sighs.

"Too many?"

"I'll manage. Where's Jakarro?"

"Close," Theron says. "But loud. You get backup or surprise, not both."

That's an easy choice. "Surprise, always. Keep him clear." He knows the protocols, she hopes, or they're all in trouble. "Requesting radio silence."

"Copy that. Await your all-clear." The channel clicks off. Not entirely useless, then. Good.

The heads-up did help. She gives Raina the second grenade and they split off a hundred meters out, the range on their synchronized generators just enough to let them flank the cordon from each side of the wide staircase; the grenades drop all the soldiers, their augmentations overloaded and sparking, leaving just the commander- who, of fucking course, has a rocket pack and another six cyborgs-

No. Another dozen cyborgs, in two separate waves.

Still, she manages. She always manages, though there's a long scorch mark across her chest where she got too close to the commander's downdraft by the time they're done and Raina's got a graze along her left thigh that's left her limping. As the other woman presses a kolto autoinjector against her leg, the needle triggering with a soft hiss, her earpiece chimes, then chimes again.

"I thought I called silence, Theron." Now that they've a moment to rest her left shoulder's hurting, too, a dull wrenching ache, and she rolls it backward and forward. "And it was eighteen Void-damned cyborgs, not six, so you'd better have good news for me or I am really going to be very cross."

"I'm afraid it's more bad news, Cipher." Lana sounds strange, distracted, her words slurring together. (I remember that. I had a terrible headache, Lana says. I was hearing Revan even then, but I didn't know it… it was just a roar. Like sticking your head in a turbine.) "Arkous knows you're coming, and they've got a shuttle on the roof. You may have to engage after all- we can't afford to let them escape again."

"You're on your way, I hope."

"Yes, but-"

She flicks the tip of the transmitter with her fingernail and gets twin yelps in reply, which serves them right because they're going to get her killed and she is not going to die here, not today. "Let me guess- but you're not sure you can get here in time."

"No. We can get there, but Darok just fired up the turrets and I can't get into that part of the security grid remotely. Going to need a distraction to be able to land near the tower." Theron's still trying to slice in, probably, given the amount of clicking in the background.

"How lethal of a distraction?"

"The goal is still live capture, if at all possible," Lana says, her voice a little clearer.

She grumbles under her breath. She can hear Jakarro across the courtyard, so it'll be three on two (the droid doesn't count); those still aren't ideal odds, though if she can foist Darth Arkous off on the Wookiee… well. It's something. "Oh, all right. Shall I do it without armor, too? It'll be an extra challenge, if you're going to handicap me anyway."

That earns an unamused huff from Lana, and, over the continued terminal noise, a muttered I've got cameras on top of the tower, right?

"You're still transmitting, Theron. Moving to intercept."

She imagines him blushing as she and Raina and now Jakarro, too, bounding up the steps four at a time behind them, fight their way through the entrance to the main temple, through the halls and up the turbolift to the shuttle platform.

In the end it didn't matter.

Darok and Arkous were never going to surrender, never going to let themselves be taken alive, and she kicks herself for not suspecting the Revanite connection sooner; it explains so easily how they'd ended up here, following in the footsteps of a dead fool, though the Revanites had deeper roots than she'd imagined. She thought they'd stomped out the last of that heresy years ago, when she'd exposed the leader of their cell on Dromund Kaas- but she'd never followed that through, distracted as she was by the destruction of Jadus' Dominator. Clearly, at least a few of the rats had dodged the trap.

She'd left her transmitter wide open while they'd fought, and as Jakarro gives Darok's body one last ferocious kick she slumps against the rooftop console to nurse her bruised ribs and get the perimeter guns powered down. Opening the holoterminal and a slicing channel, she catches her breath as Theron and Lana flicker into view, side by side.

"You heard all that, I hope?"

"Heard and felt- the colonel is dead, too? I sensed Darth Arkous' passing." Her expression dour, Lana shakes her head. "It's a shame they wouldn't say any more."

Theron's shifting from foot to foot, fidgeting with his datapad. "I'm pulling data now, but there's not much here. Damn it, we may never figure out what they were really up to. They were building an army for someone, but-"

"We'll- oh-" Lana flinches, eyes scrunching shut as her face contorts in pain, and she staggers for a moment. "Something's coming."

(And to think I used to envy you that mind-reading thing, she says, nudging Lana teasingly. It seemed so useful.

It is, sometimes. But it's hard to control. One ends up- she nudges her back, two fingers prodding at the side of her neck- seeing things one wishes one hadn't.)

The ship's already darkening the sky when she looks up, the figure projecting from it nearly half again the height of the tower and looming high overhead like something out of a nightmare, all cape and hood and mask and-

Raina ducks out of sight; Lana's staring, eyes wide, up at the figure, and Theron's gone pale and quiet and his lips move, silent- she told me he wasn't dead, she knew-

"Oh, for fuck's sake." She rests her hands on her hips, scowling upward in the general direction of its face, if it can see her at all. "Revan. I'm pretty sure I killed you."

I don't remember Theron saying that. Lana turns her head, eyebrow a perfect arching question mark. Who did he mean, she?

She shrugs. I assume he meant his mother... I'm not sure, actually. But you remember the rest of what happened after that, don't you?

Lana nods. We should have waited for you on the beach, but Revan's flagship was firing on us, too. Splitting up seemed the safest option. Then by the time I made it back to Vaiken, the death warrant was already active. Arkous' failsafe must have kicked in the moment he died, and the word of a Darth, a Dark Council member, even posthumous, against mine- She shrugs. I ran, and hoped you'd get my message.

And Theron did the same, and Jakarro. I only slipped the net by virtue of not technically actually existing, I think- it wouldn't work now, not with the old Minister gone, but he used to wipe my dossier once a month. It made it rather difficult to pin me down.

Lana grins at that. A trick I wished I could have replicated, but no such luck. So it was quite a relief, really, when you showed up on Manaan again, though I'm not sure Theron felt quite the same.

He said he was glad to see me. The pillow beneath her head's gone flat; she fluffs it carefully, and settles back down. Although asking for a mutual debriefing may have been pushing it just a little too far.

(Stuttering out a denial, he'd blushed so hard his scalp turned pink. Oh, Force, he was cute when he blushed.)