The Skeins

Baara stared at Zenda's retreating back in disbelief and indecision for a few long seconds before jogging after her.

"You're coming with me?"

"I'm lost, like you said," Baara muttered darkly.

For some reason, she'd expected a sarcastic reply, perhaps a snide, mean spirited remark, but Zenda just hmm'd thoughtfully and continued to trek alongside her in silence. Which would have been fine, except that her strides were a lot longer than Baara's short frame could manage, and she didn't appear to show any signs of slowing down for the sake of politeness.

"Why are you walking so fast?" her only consolation was that two years of hard labor meant she wasn't yet out of breath.

"Why are you so short?" Zenda quipped.

"I can't exactly help it," Baara huffed angrily. To Zenda's credit, she did slow her pace to a more moderate one, glancing sideways at Baara as she did so. Baara ignored her look and continued to walk alongside her.

"Are the other members of your crew Imperial?" she asked finally, when the silence had stretched itself past its limit. Zenda didn't appear to be the chatty type, or maybe she just didn't feel like talking to her specifically. The awkwardness of unfamiliarity and hostility wasn't anything new to Baara. She'd dealt with plenty of unpleasant people before...

But that was usually under the light of day and not while she was trapped in a subterranean maze with no easily discernible way out except playing nicely.

"No."

When Zenda failed to elaborate, Baara asked, "So how did you end up working with them?"

"I filled out an application."

Baara's scoffed. "Are you purposely being obtuse? You know what I meant." Some of her annoyance faded at the playfully amused expression in the other's gaze. It was the most genuine reaction she'd gotten from her yet, and it served to lessen her nerves somewhat.

"Why were you there then, at the presentation?"

"Personal interest," Zenda shrugged. "Not to sabotage you."

Baara didn't answer, a little embarrassed that she'd hit so close to the mark with her comment.

"Your name's Baara Amittai?"

"Yes," Baara answered, cautious by reflex. People posing that question usually followed it up with inquiries about her family and their standing in the Empire. Baara didn't particularly like to discuss exactly what being a 'minor noble' entailed with strangers. She didn't appreciate being cast into a role before she'd had a chance to try to make one for herself. She was only grateful that her family's relative unimportance in the upper tiers of Imperial hierarchy meant that the question didn't arise very often.

Zenda didn't appear to be aware that there was a potential follow-up question to ask, though, and, after a moment or two passed, Baara allowed herself to relax.

"Zenda Roshni," she tried out the stranger's name, weighing it on her tongue. Zenda's eyes flickered momentarily to her at the noise, before returning to the path ahead of them.

"What are the odds your crewman managed to find his own way back?"

"I don't have much faith in Mardura," Zenda replied.

"I was afraid you'd say that," Baara mused. The tunnel was beginning to widen around them, sloping ever so gradually downwards.

"I wouldn't worry too much about him," Zenda cut into her thoughts. "If the Imperials don't storm these tunnels before long, the natives will. Someone will find him soon enough."

"They'll shoot him," Baara answered, aghast at her lack of concern.

"Maybe," Zenda admitted. "If he's smart, he'll find somewhere to hide and follow them back to the surface."

"You just said you didn't expect much from him."

"Well," Zenda answered. She'd drawn to a stop in front of a maintenance hatch. Tucked away behind a column of rock, Baara would have missed it entirely.

A small glass pane sat in the direct middle of the panel. Through mostly coated in a fine layer of dust, here and there clearer spots stood out, revealing the yellowed, fogged surface below. Baara couldn't imagine what had disturbed the centuries of accumulation, but some of the spots looked a bit like someone had swiped their fingers down the pane.

Raising the hatch, Zenda revealed a rusted metal ladder, which descended several feet before vanishing into the gloom. The space around it was narrow, and cracked with age. However, unlike the cave in which they now stood, the stonework was generally uniform enough to point to its artificial origin.

"I've been wrong before."

Swinging one leg over the opening, she placed her foot on a rung and turned to looked at Baara. "It's a bit of a climb..."

"Then you'd better hurry up and get started," Baara cut her off smoothly. "Unless you'd prefer I went first?"

Zenda smiled faintly, hardly more than a twitch of her lips before, wordlessly, beginning the descent.

She hadn't been lying though. Baara had the strange sensation of descending into the depths of the ocean as she watched the light slowly grow smaller above them. The space was tight and claustrophobic, but she avoided thinking about it by focusing on the placement of her hands and feet as she descended. The rungs were badly corroded in places, and the sharp metal tried to prick at her palms. Fortunately, barring a few minor scrapes and scratches, she managed to avoid any serious injury.

It was sweltering, though. The subterranean chill melted as some of Vitheon's characteristic heat materialized around them. No room for air circulation had Baara sweating within the first several minutes of the climb. Compared to the surface, of course, it was a minor inconvenience. Nothing could quite beat the jungle heat under the midday sun.

Still, she was grateful to set foot on solid ground again. Wiping the sweat from her forehead with the back of her sleeve, she gestured to Zenda. "Lead on."

Hiking through the sewers was far easier than the trek through the tunnel. Far less claustrophobic too. As the sweat cooled on the back of her neck, Baara unconsciously tugged her jacket tighter about her frame, chilled unexpectedly. Stone walkways and short narrow bridges lined portions of the network, but, in other places, they were forced to cross pools of stagnant water to get across. Water sloshed up on her boots as they trudged through the semi darkness, and the smell at times made her wrinkle her nose, repressing a gag.

None of it seemed to perturb Zenda, though the woman would stop periodically, glancing down dark tunnels with her head tilted slightly at an angle as though looking and listening for something Baara could neither see nor hear. What there was to see or hear beyond the steady dripping of water from the ancient ceilings, Baara didn't know. Zenda hadn't answered any of her inquiries about it the first couple of times it had happened, so eventually the shorter woman had given up asking.

Let her be weird if she wants to be. As long as she gets us to the surface before someone else finds us.

That goal seemed almost attainable now, as the leering gargoyles had been replaced with faded, cryptic signs placed at semi regular intervals. Baara had picked up enough of the local language to make out a few of them, though others were tarnished beyond comprehension.

"We're getting closer to the surface. Look," Baara shined her light on one of the signs, reaching up to wipe at the rust and grime that had accumulated on its surface. In retrospect, she had no idea if Zenda could read Vitheon, so the action might have been pointless. "Level 1."

"I know. We climbed down from a manhole on the street."

Baara dropped her flashlight, hurrying to catch up after Zenda once again as the woman resumed walking. "Your crewman, how badly is he injured?"

"He can't walk," Zenda replied. "He was caught in a blast, and I assume he broke his leg."

Baara winced. Patting the pocket of her jacket, she added, "It's not much, but I have a field medpac on me, by the way. You didn't ask."

"Great. There's a reason to keep you around after all. Even if you hadn't had one, I doubt telling you to go away would have worked, though."

Baara scowled at her. "No. I'm very difficult to get rid of. Quite proud of the fact, actually."

"Good for you."

Baara's scowl deepened, but she didn't answer, glaring resolutely at Zenda's back as she trailed after her. The blonde woman's footsteps were more hurried now, and Baara struggled to keep up. The light from her torch jumped up and down and back and forth as she nearly jogged just to keep time. Shadows here weren't as disorienting as in the caves, where irregularities in the rock could turn shallow crevices into deep pools of inky darkness, but a clearer direction just gave Zenda an excuse to set a faster pace. Overall, the swinging light, lack of air, and pounding blood in Baara's temple were beginning to give her a headache.

"I know we're in a hurry," god, she could hardly breathe in this fetid sewer air, "but can you slow down just a little?" Sweat was pouring down her neck, but the humidity kept it from evaporating, meaning she might as well have grown a second skin that was slowly strangling her with her own body heat.

Zenda did slow, quite abruptly, and Baara staggered past her as she herself slowed to a halt. "Thank you," she managed to gasp primly. Somewhere over the drumbeat of her pulse, she thought she detected voices. Turning, she shone her light down one of the many small offshoot passages connecting a series of larger sewer tunnels together.

"Is this the way?," the water was shallow, no more than half an inch, but it muffled her feet as she took several steps into the passage. The tunnel continued straight for about ten meters before splitting off to the right and to the left. Her light bounced off another marker sign at the dead end marking the passage split, illuminating the two side tunnels. Baara could hear voices and see more ambient light besides her torch drifting from the left one.

"Hey! Hey, I think..." arms wrapped around her and a hand covered her mouth as she was bodily dragged backwards. She stumbled, nearly going down, but the person who'd grabbed her kept pulling. On instinct, she opened her mouth, teeth scraping against flesh as she prepared to bite down hard on the hand muffling her.

"Shh..." it was nothing more than a breath of air tickling her ear. Baara didn't relax, but she let herself be pulled back into the darkness, tucked behind Zenda's back as the latter peered out at the main passage from the safety of a side alcove.

"What...?"

"Quiet."

Baara fell silent, listening intently. Gradually, the light grew brighter, until the tunnel in front of them began to glow and she felt certain they would be spotted. Heavy, thudding footsteps, snatches of speech in an alien tongue. Dark metal blaster rifles gleamed in the hands of the Vitheon scouts prowling through the subterranean labyrinth. A youthful human male, hardly older than Baara herself with blonde hair and a bruised, soot blackened face, limped between two of them. Every now and then, he would pause for a millisecond to grab a breath of air, and one or both of his jailers (as Baara now realized that's what they were) would jab him sharply in the ribs, sending him into a wheezing fit as he stumbled forward. Another man, older, with weather beaten skin, was slung, unconscious over the shoulder of the largest alien soldier. The scout used his second pair of arms to keep the man from sliding while his shorter, clawed hands gripped his rifle.

Despite the prisoner's limp, the group was making good time, and it wasn't long before the light from their lanterns began to flicker and disappear from view. Still, Zenda waited several long minutes after they'd departed, keeping Baara pressed uncomfortably into the corner of the alcove. Her back began to grow damp and stiff, and she felt a chill creep up her torso. She needed to move and soon.

Finally, Zenda moved aside. Baara utilized considerable self control not to shove past her as she stepped out into the tunnel again. Her back popped as she stretched, and she rubbed her hands up and down her arms, trying to generate heat to combat the shivering caused by her now damp jacket.

"Was that them?" she queried. "Your crewmen?"

"Yes."

"And? Aren't you going to do anything about it? They're your friends..."

"They're my crew. Not my friends. And what could I do?" she gestured to the blaster that Baara just now realized was strapped to her hip. "I'm low on ammo, and I'm outnumbered."

"...Why are they going deeper into the sewers?"

"Probably looking for myself and that waste of space, Mardura."

"My team..." Baara began, but Zenda cut her off.

"We don't know they're heading towards the caves. Even if they are, there's nothing you can do about it now. We need to get to the surface and get backup."

Baara wavered with indecision for a moment, but ultimately, she decided Zenda had a point. There was very little chance of her finding Dr. Witwar and the rest of the group again. Even if she did, there was little she could do to defend them.

She hated being useless.

Nodding stiffly at Zenda to continue, she fell into line behind her once more. Finding the surface meant, hopefully, finding reinforcements. She only had to trust that the garrison could hold their own against the influx of rebels flooding the streets above.


3 BTC

The space station was old. Nearly two and a quarter centuries had passed since its initial construction. It had been lost, rediscovered, and lost again half a dozen times in the interim.

When its first metal corpse had finally showed signs of collapse, the frugal scavengers that had reclaimed the wreckage chose to create a patchwork station on top of the original, replacing bits and pieces piecemeal and covering up anything else that couldn't easily be swapped out. The end result was a series of mismatched levels descending (or rather ascending) from the oldest, sub layer of the station to the more recent landing docks that had been installed to screen the masses passing through. The profit conscious overlords of Level One did business with Republic and Empire alike, as it turned out. Whatever trouble the two caused later on could be sorted out by the overlords of Levels Two through Fourteen.

This foresight to divide the two groups ensured that Level One remained the safest on the station. Things tended to become progressively more dangerous the further one descended. Most didn't make it past Four.

Something unpleasant was alive at the heart of the station, tucked away in the darkness behind layers and layers of rusted bulkheads and pipework. It wriggled and writhed in the darkness, fed by smaller points of energy that crawled and scuttled through the walls.

The Sith could feel it, could almost reach out and touch it.

One of the smaller lights darted past, and the Sith's hand shot out. A sharp squeak echoed in the thin inner layer of the bulkhead. Frantic scrabbling, like nails on metal sounded as the Sith stepped closer, examining the creature through the Force, feeling its racing heartbeat.

Small, beady black eyes darted frantically back and forth as the tiny, furry mammal sought escape from the child's fingers. The Sith had a feeling the boy was about to get bitten, but he didn't seem to realize this fact.

He'd positioned himself resolutely in front of where the Sith sat, holding out the creature as he silently looked up. Four, maybe five, with black hair and green eyes that were as full of curiosity as fear.

"Why are you showing me this?" the Sith asked, perturbed by the boy's solemnity.

"This is Dragon," the little boy proclaimed. "Mummy got him for me."

"That doesn't answer my question..."

The little boy frowned, looking confused. He didn't last this way for long, however.

Scuffing one foot back and forth on the carpet, he tilted his head to the side, contemplating the Sith. At last, seeming to come to a conclusion, he drew a deep breath, as though bracing himself, and hopped up onto the couch to sit a few feet away.

Though clearly wary, he had no qualms about slowly inching closer, like someone trying to make friends with a disagreeable dog. Green eyes shone happily as he placed the strange little creature on the couch and began to babble about a variety of inane topics that were somewhat difficult to follow due to his limited vocabulary.

Only, at one point, he got a bit too excited, poking the creature accidentally while indicating it. It let out a sharp, affronted 'squeak', turned around, and, predictably, bit him.

The Sith blinked.

The aura of the creature trapped in the wall's flickered and went out.