Chapter 25

Once out of the Czerka office, Mission wandered off to the swoop track to meet Zaalbar. Her young mind still swimming with the implications of her brother's incarceration at the hands of the Sand People and Czerka's easy dismissal of his fate. The only thing that kept her from the dread worry was a Jedi's promise.

"Where to next?" asked Juhani once the teens had departed. "The cantina or the hunter's club?"

"We're closer to the hunter's club, we should to there." Bastila put forth. It was a logical choice- Skye however was known for unconventional thinking and if it was going to amuse her by making the younger Jedi confront her mother in a bar, she'd probably choose the den of iniquity.

"Bas is right; let's hit the all-boys-pissing-club. And hold your noses ladies these desert rats wouldn't know what to do with a shower- hydro or sonic- if they fell into it. The whole damn place will reek of testosterone, posturing and chest thumping."

"And this will be different from the cantina how?" Juhani queried.

Straight-as-you-like, Skye flashed a cocky grin and answered. "No strippers."

"And will you be trying to charm these laggards like you do others?" Shan poised the question as if she didn't wish to hear the answer.

"Not on your life. We won't get an answer with silver-tongued charm in there; leastwise not one we'd want. With all their swagger and sweat, the only thing that lot think women are for is fracking. We may need to play it a bit rough," the former dark lord continued to talk as she walked towards the hunter's lodge. "A bit like that pit in Lowtown back on Taris."

"Only this time we are not playing the roles of downed couriers." Bastila reminded the older woman. "We are Jedi. Are you suggestion we play-act as agents of the Dark Side?"

A dark eyebrow rose at the challenging comment. "Been enough 'play acting' around here already don't you think? No, we play it straight for once, but be coy about being in the Order. If we play as rookie hunters, they will only mock us and tell us to frack off. Just follow my lead. Credits or the promise of it will loosen tongues. Oh, and if any of those sleemos start hassling either you and make a grab for your tits or ass, give them an elbow to the face then pull out the lightsaber before things get too rough. They'll back down. No one wants to risk losing a hand to lightsaber."

The other two Jedi considered Ravensong's words and found themselves agreeing to tactics. "This is why you did not want the child Mission with us," said the Cathar.

"Yeah," nodded Skye. "She and Big Z can handle themselves around swoopers; they know the language- the culture. This is a whole different breed of scum. I don't want to have to worry about her getting molested while I'm pressing one of that lot for Intel.

"Grant you, there maybe a few in there that are legit, but they will be in the minority. Mark my words. Five-to-get-ten we only find one in there worth talking to. And all the others will know his name, his rep and his skills. He'll be the one sitting alone at a table, back to the corner, watching the others while pretending the whole while he isn't. He's got respect and fear and envy.

"The only thing is we'll have to talk to a few of the other twits to gauge what they think of him, how he hunts and what he knows or what they think he knows about the Dune Sea. Once we have a base we can approach him. Now he will have been watching us work the crowd and expect us to hit him up for information. Now this will go down one of two ways: either he's a pro and gentleman with a code of honor he set for himself and that code may not make sense to us, but it makes sense to him and he won't break it. Or he could be a pro and be a complete douche bag over it like Mr. Mushroom Hat was and refuse to talk to anyone else because he views everyone else as beneath him."

Juhani took the words in easily processing them but the last she stumbled over. "Who is Mr. Mushroom Hat?"

"She means Calo Nord. A bounty hunter who worked for Davik Kang back on Taris." Bastila explained. "He liked to count to three before he tossed a flash-bang grenade and shot you just for trying to talk to him. He's dead now, and good-riddance, he was a piece of filth."

Ravensong couldn't agree more.

"And what if he refuses to talk to us?" inquired Juhani.

"Then we get inventive." Smiled Skye.

Bastila shook her head. "Please don't."

The Nagai only chuckled; her features alight with a mischievous glint.

"I have a bad feeling about this," muttered Bastila carefully under her breath.

Skye draped her arm around the human's neck and shoulders and gave her a tender kiss upon the cheek. "You worry too much Princess." With a wink, she released a very stunned Bastila and went for the door of the lodge.

KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR

Carth hated waiting; hated this game Ravensong was playing with him. Sure she said she let bygones-be-bygones- that she didn't hold a grudge over their honor duel. She, after all, had thoroughly humiliated Carth on the battlefield. Stripped naked and armed with only a dagger it was a duel to the surrender. The honour duel had been swift, precise and over. Onasi never had a chance in any heaven of wining the challenge.

From that day to this, he kept losing that battle. Over and over and over. Every time words were traded- he lost. Now here he sat watching over a ship and a little girl. Skye could have easily left the girl Mission and the Wookiee to play watch dog of child and ship. But no, he had been left.

Bygones were not bygones.

A high-pitched scream called the man's attention from in introspective meandering thoughts back to the real world.

It could have only come from the girl.

"Sasha!" Carth yelped ruining towards the direction where the scream emanated from. He took only three steps before the scream sounded again and continued almost non-stop.

Carth rushed the cargo hold where the girl had been playing with the dolls Mission had given her. Metal slid from nylon and his blaster was pointing at the skull of an Aqualish male.

"Stop right there!" Onasi barked. A millisecond later a sound order issued from his mouth, "Sasha, get out of here now!"

The girl didn't hesitate, didn't question the words she didn't understand. She grabbed her dolls, and fled deeper into the confines of the Hawk. She sprinted to the starboard bunks and hid in the far corner under one of Skye's Jedi robes. Tears fell from her eyes as she clutched a black haired female Jedi-doll close to her chest.

Back on the garage, Carth still had his blaster pointed and the spider-like sentient and his two followers who were carrying an anti-grav skiff between them with three crates upon it.

"This shipment, did it come from Skye Ravensong?"

"Who?

The hum of the blaster coming to life made the skiff loaders jump. "You three will get that skiff off my ship now!"

"I'm Jor..."

"I don't give a flying frack who you are, Aqualish. I will shoot you dead if don't depart NOW."

"But... but I have a shipment for docking bay thirty-two, everything is here as requested!"

Time serving in the Mandalorian war, and time on Taris taught Carth many things. He shot the two skiff loaders in quick succession and then pointed his muzzle back to the Aqualish. "I said get the hell off my ship."

"You shot my men! You wanted the cargo!" the man screeched.

Carth shot once more. He wasn't taking any chances. Skye was the risk-taker, not him. He went first to the male that was called Jor-whatever-his-name-was, scooped up his body and laid it upon the loader and piled it upon the crates with the other two bodies.

He wasn't going to take any chances and open the crates here. They and the damned spiders would be liquidated as soon as he got them off his ship. Off Skye's ship.

Maybe the Nagai was right to leave him here. It wasn't a punishment. She needed someone marginally trustworthy to hold the line. The Mandi might have taken off with the Hawk. The two kids might have been taken in by the Aqualish. She wouldn't leave her Jedi so that left Onasi to guard and protect.

He could do that. Guard and protect. It fell into his oath when he enlisted into the Republic Navy. And he was a father, even if his son was not with him anymore, he still knew how to be a dad- how to relate to kids and protect them. He was the only one on the team that had been a parent; none of the others knew.

It wasn't a punishment Onasi realized. But absolute trust. So why did it make him feel a hundred times worse than when he believed Ravensong was holding a grudge over him?

He was offloading the skiff still piled with the contraband creates and the three dead Aqualish males when four Czerka operatives rushed the Hawk weapons drawn. "Hold it right there!" One of them shouted, the dock master. "What the hell is this? You're coming with us!"

"I was protecting my ship from being boarded. If your people were doing their job I wouldn't have had to shoot them. They were hauling contraband. If you have issue, I suggest you take it up with the Jedi whose ship this belongs to."

The youngest looking junior officer, a towheaded youth, looked to his superior for guidance. If this was a Jedi's ship and smugglers where trying to stow contraband on it, it could cause a great deal of trouble for Czerka if the Jedi pressed the issue of incompetence. He dropped the muzzle of his blaster unsure what he should do.

The other two kept their guns trained on Carth.

The dock manger grunted in contempt. The Republic officer had the right of it. If the Aqualish and his men were trespassing on the Jedi's ship, her man had every right to protect her property.

The towhead operative backed up, tripped over on one of the arms of one the dead Aqualish. He tried to stop his fall by grabbing one of the crates by the corner. The jarring motion caused it to topple over on the ground along with the boy. The crate smashed opened spilling out dozens and dozens of gizka. The frog like creatures swarmed over Towhead, covering his body like a blanket.

"Get them off! Get them off!" Towhead was screaming flaying his body about, trying to get the gizka off of him. They were everywhere, hopping—croaking, swarming about the legs of everyone, under the skiff, some even headed for the Hawk's gangplank. They didn't make if far. Onasi either shot them or kicked at them or stomped on them creating gray-green splats. There was no way he was going to allow those accursed things to infest the ship.

The officers sped out over the docking bay, scrambling in different directions. The juniors were frantically trying to recapture the emerald amphibians and put them back into in the broken crate. The dock manager had a better solution. He shot the damn things.

Escaping gizka, frantic shouts and blaster fire filled the air of the hanger. The amphibians fled their-would be captors by leaping into the small market stalls near the city gates, causing the owners to yelp out shouts of dismay and simultaneously cursing the Czerka thugs who caused things to swarm them in the first place.

Out of all the commotion Carth heard a child's giggle. He spun around and saw Sasha standing on the gangplank watching the complete pandemonium unfold. Onasi started to shoo the child back into the safety of the Hawk not trusting the Czerka twits to fire straight. Besides, Ravensong would make his life miserable if he allowed even one of those squishy slimy critters on the ship.

KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR

"Night Mother's blood I think I need a bath." Skye complained walking out of the Hunter's Lodge. "How in the hell can a desert rat hole make you feel slimy?"

"I don't know but I'll take that shower with you." Bastila groused. "I don't know what was worse, the Gamorrean's drooling threats, that sleemo Venn stripping the three us naked with his eyes or the reek of testosterone in that den of iniquity."

"That shower will be a threesome," Juhani added wrinkling her nose. "Please tell me we do not have to go back in there any time soon."

"Not if I can help it," Skye responded. "And not that I'm not up for a threesome in the showers," she leered at Bastila with a playful smirk, "but we got something at least. That Komad Fortuna guy seemed at least to be the friendliest of the bunch. I think he may have something. It's like a Youngling's fairytale... you want treasure, look for a dragon guarding it. I say we check out the krayt dragon dens out in the dune seas. Besides, the visions show a cave of some kind. A dragon's den is as good as any other place to start."

So, what do we know about these beasts other than they're really really big?

"I mean I know that the Order call the Shien and Djem So forms—'The Way of the Krayt Dragon' for their power and ferocity. But other than the fact they have pearls inside their gizzards that are highly valuable and can juice up a lightsaber with the power of the beasts themselves, I know as much as the next layman."

Juhani stepped forward. "Back when I was a Youngling just after I joined the Order I would spend hours studying Xenobiolgy," she looked away form a moment." It was how I knew how to manipulate the kath hounds."

Skye put a hand upon the younger woman's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "It's okay. You didn't stay there. So, tell us Lady Bookworm, what'd you know about dragons?"

The Cathar grinned showing her fangs in the warm smile. "I know they are heavily attracted to areas that are strong in the Force, especially the dark side. Taking one down will not be an easy task. They secrete lethal venom, through its teeth and spines which has several different toxic proteins. The biological significance of these proteins is disputed, but the glands have been shown to secrete an anticoagulant, as well as septic pathogens. I know Jedi researchers have found fifty-seven strains of bacteria in their saliva. They drool more than Gamorreans."

"Okay good note, don't let them slobber on you." Skye winced. Thinking how a tiny scratch would be your undoing out in the sands. No wonder it took down banthas so easily. All it had to do was get one small nip into the wooly hide of a bantha and just wait for the toxins to do the rest.

"Anything else?"

The Cathar nodded. "A bit. Their hide is extraordinarily tough and the density of their bones makes them highly resilient to damage even from its own kind. But they have a weakness. The krayt have difficulty discerning two-dimensional images, often attacking shadows. We can use that. Thirdly, a well-placed blaster shot or in our case your force lighting Skye could bore right through the weak sinus cavity hitting it's the brain. And thirdly, their favored prey is bantha."

"Oh nice!" Skye said with a massive smile. "We bait it just like Mission, Onasi, Big Z and I did with Fido down in the Tarisan sewers. Instead of frag grenades and corpses we use landmines. A lot of them. Thermal detonators wouldn't hurt. We lure it into a trench by using banthas. There has got to be wild ones out there, not just the ones used by Sand People."

"To lure banthas we'll need fodder," Bastila said. "There must be stall around here that sells the stuff."

"Or we can pick some up when we go to the Sand People's enclave to rescue Mission's brother. There is bound to be some there." Skye suggested.

"You mean to steal from the Sand People?" the younger Jedi chastised.

"Nooo. Not stealing- confiscating and allocating needed supplies in the time of war. Ask Mr. Orange Jacket. Soldiers do it all the time." Ravensong flippantly responded.

Bastila folded her arms and scowled.

"Alright, alright we can trade with them for it." A hapless shrug. "Happy?"

"Marginally. Besides right now getting the fodder is a moot point. Fortuna wasn't so open about where to find them."

"That shouldn't be so hard to find out from the locals. Krayt dragons are big- means they take big prey or a lot of little prey. Acid lizards, bocatts, bone gnashes and gnawers, cu-pa, banthas, razor backs, dewbacks, wamp rats, armored krakkiss- and people, just to name a few that are on the menu. We can scour the sands and look for massive piles of bones or we spend time with the locals. Get dirt under the finger nails so-to-speak."

Bastila nearly rolled her eyes, but the disdain was thick in her voice. "You mean to go to the canteen don't you."

"But of course, my dear Princess. Where else does one get 'the dirt' other than a cantina? If anyone has tales of krayt dragons it will be in the 'Pit of Drowning Despair'," a smirk played blindly bright upon the Nagai's lips. "After all, we already visited the 'Den of Iniquity'." She pointed her thumb behind her shoulder towards the Hunter's Lodge. "After the Pit, it's the 'Cesspool of Greasers'—meaning the swoop track of course."

"Of course," Bastila said without enthusiasm. "And let me- guess after a few drinks and a few hands of pazzak to loosen up the local desert rats you intend to do something similar with the track, don't you? Which means you will be racing."

"Of course," the prideful smirk was still brilliant. Then it fell away as swiftly as an extinguished lightsaber. "Bas... I built a reputation as the Mysterious Stranger on Taris. It gave me a near all-zones pass card. It was useful. If I can build a narrative mythology here on Tatooine as a champion swoop racer, then we have an upper hand. Not only to scope out the location of relics... or finds or dragon dens but also if there are any of Malak's agents sniffing around.

"Malak isn't as subtle as Revan. He's a fracking thug. And he will use blatant open attacks and mercs, but if he has operatives that are say, a bit more inventive, we're going to need to know about it. Having a windfall as a champion swoop racer may give us that doorway. Not just here but on the other worlds we have to visit. Even if it means I have to race on those world's tracks.

"A swooper's world is different than the world of a Jedi, or hardcore pazak players, or the fans of either. We have been able to invest ourselves in those worlds, understand at the very least a few layers of it, to use it effectively to our means. We must match the footprint of the worlds we're stepping into, Bastila. That means the dirty; the gritty; the underbelly, and a hell of a lot of places that little book 'The Jedi Path' tells you to avoid. Because if you follow that little child's book to the letter, you will lose so many opportunities to harvest information. "

"Skye is right; we need to use the means we have at hand to our advantage." Juhani put forth. "However distasteful or sullied."

Bastila nodded causing her loosened curls to bob. "Of course, I know she's right." She looked to the former dark lord. "Of course, you're right," she put a hand upon her bondmate's shoulder, "just don't do something incredibly stupid."

Skye winked. "Don't worry. I have no intentions of dancing with a sarlacc anytime soon."

"Yes well, we all know what you plan to do and what actually happens are not always one and the same," the human's sardonic tones drifted into the older woman's ears which caused Ravensong to actually snicker.

"Too true-too true. Can't deny it." The Nagai flashed a full megawatt smile. "But hell, that's what makes life so much fun, Princess."

"Oh brother," muttered the younger Jedi under her breath.

Juhani only smiled at her fellow Jedi's interactions. A part of her was marginally jealously of Bastila and her connection to a woman she was drawn to- sexually attracted to. But another part of her- the greater part of her- drifted to her lover back on Dantooine-her sweet Belaya, the woman who held her heart, however secret their affair had to be.

Before proceeding to the Cantina, there was one stop Skye had to make first. A woman named Sharina had entrusted (though with some reluctance) the three Jedi with a desert wraid plate to sell within the hunting lodge. She and her children were counting on the credits to leave Dantooine and purchase tickets to Coruscant. Her husband wasn't a proven hunter; he was a retired soldier who became a miner. But because the mines scaled back employment he had lost his job leaving his family practically destitute. Any credits they had had gone into buying him hunting gear. Unfortunately, he wasn't prepared for the cut-throat world of desert hunters. Allegedly he had been murdered by a pack of Gamorreans. The only thing left on his person when it was returned to Sharina was rags.

The wraid plate had been from an earlier hunt that had been secreted away. Sharina's husband was positive the next hunt would bring in more so they waited to sell it, but her husband had never returned. And now Sharina had no way of selling it; not without a hunting license. And she didn't know who to trust amongst the hunters. Her husband hadn't known any of them. The Jedi however were another story. By reputation alone, the young widow believed in them. Her desperation was so grave she felt she had no other options- not if she wanted to leave the arid world.

"Sharina..." Skye sauntered up to the young mother. "It appears the plate was worth more than what you thought, here..." the Nagai handed over a chit worth seven hundred credits.

"That's incredible! Oh, thank you! Thank you! That is more than generous of you. I don't what to say. I just don't!"

"Not a problem." Ravensong shrugged with a half-smile. "Just get your family some place safe.

Sharina wrapped her arms around the taller woman in a tight, fierce hug that caused the Jedi to take a half a step back in order to not lose her footing from the impact of the unexpected embrace. "Whatever it's worth, may the Force be with you. You saved us!" she let go, clutched the chit to her chest and darted off to the east, presumably to her home and children.

Bastila stepped up next to her bondmate and rested her hand upon Ravensong's shoulder. "Thank you for helping this woman. It may not seem like such a great thing to you but you are making difference."

"You have truly chosen to walk the Jedi path. Not many would go out of their way to aid one so desperately in need." Juhani added to the praise.

"Isn't this what we're supposed to do? The higher choice?" Skye looked off to the direction the human had darted off. "Though I don't know how much we've actually helped her. Poverty here or poverty in the lower levels of Coruscant- not much of an improvement. And unless she has friends or family to stay with or a job lined up it will pretty rough going."

"Better a life in the slums with a minimum wage job as a waitress in a greasy spoon than slave fodder on an unforgiving world." Juhani said with a voice tainted with prior knowledge. "Ultimately it is her choice. One you gave her the chance to make."

Skye found bitter wisdom in the Cathar's words. Now was not the time to dwell on the matter. The life of the human was no longer her concern, getting to the Star Map was.

The Jedi resumed their way deeper into the large sprawling city. All the buildings had the same look to them- most were domed and all were of adobe construction to protect against the twin suns. The streets were broad and packed with beings of every shape and size. Vendors hawked their wares from beneath awnings which provided moderate shade.

Side stepping racing speeders and stepping in the dung of dewbacks, banthas and other beasts of burden proved to be the greater challenge.

The trio of Jedi kept a wary eye on the horizon; the warren of streets was ripe for pickpockets and other trouble makers. Rodians, Aqualish and Dugs were the usual suspects. Most paid the Jedi little mind; they had long learned the merits of keeping their heads down and avoid gaining unwanted the attentions of the Hutts or of late Czerka.

The Jedi however had not wholly gone unnoticed; a trio of dark Jedi hunters filtered from the side alleyways. The Dark Side of the Force swirled around the miscreant trio, their blood-red sabers alight.

Skye called upon the Force, gathering it to herself and wrapping herself within it. She breathed it in deeply and held it in- billowing, writhing, whirling inside her heart, until there was only itself. She became the axis of the Galaxy. This was the true power of the Force. It was the very center.

She drew the power into her soul until the Force existed only to serve the former Dark Lord's will. Powered by the Force neither Light nor Dark, Ravensong's perception took the measure of those before her with exhilarating precision. She became a storm cloud, a fierce tornado.

One of the dark Jedi leaned forward; his armor-weave cloak billowed like wings. He somersaulted easily into the air and descended into the throng of women, his blade coming down like a headman's axe. Skye spun, blocking the strike with her black-bladed saber in a reverse hold. The blades crackled; the air smelled of lightning. The Dark one's strikes were playfully deflected. Skye was toying with her enemy, deliberately antagonizing him into desperate assaults to tire him. Black and green sabers flashed brightly against the ruby. Leaping and whirling, Skye's raining blows seemed almost to strike at random, like tracking the spastic movements of a hawk-bat, further infuriating her enemy until he was quite mad with rage.

With a flourish, Juhani shed her cloak from her shoulder's leaving her sword arm free. She brought her blue blade to a Shien ready: hand cocked high at her shoulder, blade angling upward and away. Her opponent came in hard, fast and brutal- but clumsily in his anger. The Cathar vaulted away from a blade of her foe, stretched out her hand and propelled the human backwards with a Force push. So hard was the jolting impact, his head whiplashed backwards.

Bastila's golden duel-bladed saber pressed away the last dark Jedi with a succession of weaving, flourishing thrusts that had her foe stumbling backwards. He had underestimated her fierce control of the Force. Judging her dedication to the Light as an exploitable weakness, he had not counted on the mastery of her blade. He fumbled with a novice's mistake. Bastila seized the opening and she hoisted her foe into the air at the same time Juhani had pushed hers away. In perfect coordination, the bodies collided and collapsed into a heap upon the yellow dirt of the desert city. Neither were moving.

The Force crackled around them and the scream of Ravensong's enemy coiled into a ball as the energy tore into him. His body seized with fingers of jade lighting; unable to hold onto his lightsaber, it toppled from his numb fingertips and clattered to the ground. The life had been burned from him.

Without saying a word Skye policed the red sabers to be dismantled at a later time. It would be foolish to leave them behind for anyone to pick up; either to attempt to use them or sell them on the black market. As she had on Taris, the bodies were discreetly disposed of, dragged back into the alleys from which the males had emerged.

"Good bet Malak knows we're here." The Nagai said at last.

"Master Vandar did warn us discretion of our movements may not be an option." Bastila added. "Do you think they came from Korriban or from Malak's ship?"

"Malak." Skye answered without hesitation. "They had sabers. If they come from Korriban they'd be armed with training blades in attempt to earn their sabers like the Governor on Taris was trying to do."

The trio knew that the Sith do not make their blades like the Jedi with the Force. Instead they are given blades by their masters with inferior crystals crafted from alchemy and sorcery. Because the sabers were crafted not by the 'Padawan', the wielder had no true connection to them as with the Jedi. The crystals were not attuned to them as were a Jedi's, how could they possibly be a part of them? Ravensong's own unique black and viridian blades were proof how attuned her blades were to her- how much a part of her they were, just as the gold duel-saber was to Bastila and Juhani's sapphire.

"If they attacked us within the streets then they do not have the map." Juhani logically pointed out. "Otherwise why bother to waylay us."

Skye nodded in agreement. "You know the way some of those hunters were acting; I wonder just how many of them were paid off by Malak's people?"

"Probably a fare few." Bastila responded. "Those Gamorreans backed off rather swiftly. They're not known for intelligent choices. Their egos would have demanded they take us simply because we are Jedi if only to prove themselves to their clan."

The older Jedi nodded. It was queer that the porcine thugs had backed away as if they knew something was in the works. Skye shrugged a sigh. "Doesn't matter much now. If there is a bounty on our heads, we'll soon find out once we leave Anchorhead for the Dune Sea."

Juhani studied the other woman. "And you do not think there will be more attempts within the city walls?"

"Doubtful. Look around." Skye gestured to the milling residents of the village who were sneaking peeks at the three Jedi. As swiftly as they looked, they looked away fearful that they may bring the wrath of Force users down upon them. "Word will spread of the defeat of the dark Jedi and how easily and efficient we carried it out. Some may rise wanting to test their metal. But they'll do it outside the city gates where they think to ambush us."

"How can you be so certain?" Juhani asked. "A bounty can be a powerful incentive."

"Look at the inhabitants. They don't want any trouble. So, they keep their heads down, just going about their normal mundane lives. Czerka won't be an issue; their boss believes she is getting something from us. She will wish to keep 'using' us. The hunters? Again, I don't see them as opposition save maybe for the Gamorreans; then again they are always a problem."

"Skye, you forgot one thing." Bastila commented.

"Yeah?"

"Two Tarisian teenagers, one of whom has a very smart mouth on her." At her fellow Jedi's questioning look Bastila pointed with a lifted chin at Mission who was barreling directly for them at top speed.

Skye let her head fall into her hands in gesture that was commonly referred to as a face-palm. "Rot! We were not gone more than an hour and a half. How in blazes does she do it!?"

"Skye! Skye!" the young Twi'lek screamed.

"Where is the Wookiee?" Juhani asked, looking around for Mission's rather shaggy shadow. "I do not see him."

"Oh..." Bastila started.

"...crap." Finished Skye. The later sighed. "Any takers on a bet that her big mouth got him into a real fix that only 'Jedi' can get him outta?"

"No, I'd rather keep my money." Juhani shook her head causing her topknot to bounce.

"And toss away what little credits I have? No deal," the human snorted.

"Please, you have to get him!" Mission pleaded.

Knowing who she was referring to, Skye drew out the child's plight. "Mission I already made the promise to help your brother, didn't I?"

"Yes," the girl nodded. She stopped just before colliding with the three Jedi. Unaccustomed to the heat of the desert and the toll it took on the lungs, the girl bent over, rested her hands on slightly bent knees taking in great greedy gulps of air. She had a stitch in her side from the length she had ran and sweat was pooling around her forehead. "No. It's Big Z."

"Yes, I do not see him," Ravensong's tone became that of a stern mother. "I told him not to let you roam to freely without having a care for your safety."

"It's not his fault." Mission pleaded. Her breath still heavy but at least now she was upright. "I... I sorta insulted a Hutt in the swoop office. I bragged about you winning the Season Opener on Taris and the sleemo just laughed and laughed. All the kriffing racers were laughing. Said anyone could make that claim on account it's all blown to hell an' stuff." Her eyes glistened with remorseful tears.

"I told them to get stuffed, you did win it and you could win the championship here. And they laughed more and I got mad at them for laughing at you! Calling me a liar. I said you were a Jedi and you'd make a new record here and they'd have to eat their own bantha poodoo. I kinda insulted that big fat slug too. I um... said he was too skinny and smoothed skin to be a real Hutt. It's why he's all back here by his lonesome running a lousy swoop track."

"Oh frack!" Skye growled. "Missssionnnn."

"That was very unwise." Bastila shook her head.

"I know. I know- a bad thing. But I can't unsay it, can I? He really pissed me off ya'know? So, he had his guys take Big Z prisoner. They won't let him go until you make a show and um..." Missions blue cheeks turned a rather heady shade of purple. "...win the championship."

Skye snapped her teeth together. "MISSION!"

"I know. I know. I'm really, really sorry!" the girl all but cried. "Please! You have to help him."

Still cross, Skye walked up to the younger female and gripped the teen by her little rounded chin and hissed. "Next time I should leave you to babysit the Hawk." She let go. "Well? What are you waiting for? Lead the way."

Mission wrapped her arms around the Nagai Jedi, hugging her close. "Oh, thank you. Thank you. I knew you wouldn't let me down."

Skye pushed the girl off her and straightened her robes without further comment but the look she was still giving the teenager spoke volumes.

"I have to wonder just how they subdued a Wookiee?" Juhani asked the question that buzzing around Ravensong and Bastila's minds as well.

"They had lots 'o blasters and Motta- that's the Hutt- he had one of his sleemo goons point one right at my head. That stupid slug said he was only using Big Z as insurance to make sure the Jedi shows. Once you walk through the door, they'd let him go."

The swoop office contained the same order as many garages- unwashed sweaty bodies, and the stink of Hutt slime, grease, old booze and the stale smoke of death sticks. Motta, though smaller than the Hutts on Taris, was fat, flatulent and had a sever no-nonsense sneer on his flabby face.

It wasn't his contentious expression that caused Skye to groan inwardly. It was in fact his size that made her leery. Small meant young in Hutt terms. It also meant Motta was trying to make a name for himself, prove himself to be worthy of a position within one of the clans. A made Hutt.

Crap, a Hutt trying to make his name was worse than one of the mighty lords. It was like facing an untrained novice armed with a lightsaber or a master of the blade Dark or Light. Better to face the master, at the very least they knew control. Hutt bosses only sought to maintain their iron-fisted control over their territories, they had nothing to prove. They were not reckless with heated tempers.

"Simply follow my lead." Skye said in her mother tongue confident in her fellow Jedi's abilities to understand Nagai. "This is going to take a bit of swagger to cover up Mission's frack-up."

"Jedi." Motta rumbled in Hutteese, watching the three females walk into his domain. "Your slave has much to learn about the proper manor to address her betters."

"I have no slave. As for my ward knowing how to speak to her betters, she does- it is only that she saw none here."

Motta slammed his meaty fist against the small table his hookah was resting upon causing it to upend and shatter on the floor of the office. "You dare, puny Jedi?!"

"Dare what? Speak true? It is no dare to do so. There are only racers here-and," Skye paused for effect, "you." She starred directly into the bulbous orbs of the Hutt. "You have another one of my companions."

"The Wookiee. You want him? Then prove you are as your slave boasted." Motta insisted using the derogatory designation for Mission. "She lays claim that you won the Taris season opener."

"It is no mere claim, it is true." Ravensong countered.

"The place no longer exists and there are no records, anyone can make this claim."

"I am a Jedi as well." Bastila stepped forward. "I bore witness to the race. Will you say I am lying as well?"

"Jedi bend truth to their own point of view." Motta growled. "Very well Jedi, prove it. You will take the championship if you can, little knife-ear. Only then will you have your beast."

"Very well."

Motta's massive mouth curled into a magnificent malicious smile. "Not so fast Jedi. There is the matter of the racing fee. One hundred credits."

Skye folded her arms over her chest. "No."

"NO!"

"You heard correctly, you great slug. No. you want me to race? Fine I will race, but I will not be extorted by you. If you stop me from racing it will be known you fear the Jedi, and the prowess of the Force. Or you have me meet your challenge. Your choice."

Motta was silent; glowering. It was a deafening stillness that caught the attention of every swoop jock within the office. All their eyes were on the Hutt, waiting to see how he would play the Jedi's game.

Skye started for the door of the office. "Jedi, Mission, with me"

She had just opened the door when Motta's gravelly bass voice boomed out. "Wait! I have decided to allow you to race without the fee this one time. However, you will have to pay a usury fee for a swoop bike."

"No need. I have my own." Skye smirked. "I want my Wookiee to retrieve it for me."

"You push too far knife-ear."

"Not as much as you think. Zaalbar pledged a life debt to me. If I remain here he will return to me. If you know anything about Wookiees, you know how much they value the honour such of a debt. He will not flee."

The rolls of fat jiggled like a bowl of gelatine dessert as Motta let out a massive belly laugh. "Very good," the Hutt's chuckled deepened, "well played Jedi, almost worthy of a Hutt."

"Yeah, how about that?" Skye scoffed. "Well is he free to go fetch for me or what?" Ravensong deliberately used the word playing into the Hutt's superiority complex.

"Command your beast to retrieve your bike. Meet him on the track. You have to best twenty-seven seconds. We shall see if you are everything you claim to be, Jedi." Motta turned to a Rodian lurking at a kiosk. "Send for the walking carpet."

The unnamed minion hastily complied with his master's wishes. A few moments later, Zaalbar was shoved into the main office from one of the garage bays by three defence droids. His arms were bound before him. His angry barks and howls didn't need translation.

Skye stretched out her hand and pointed two fingers causing the binders to clatter to the floor. Zaalbar roared in defiance, ripped around and tore the head off one of the droids. The other two clankers drew their blasters. Their weapons zipped through the air into the hands of Bastila and Juhani.

"Stop! Zaalbar stand down!" Skye ordered.

For a moment, it looked as if the Wookiee was going to ignore the order. But reluctantly he obeyed.

"You are paying for that Jedi! Droids are expensive." Motta growled.

Skye ignored the Hutt, giving her full attention to the Wookiee. "I need you to go back to the Hawk and get my swoop bike and bring it back to the track. I'm pretty sure you know why."

Zaalbar grunted his acquiescence; it was very clear he did not want to obey but did so.

Skye spun on her heels heading toward the forefront of the swoop office where the other racers were milling about. On her flanks were her sister Jedi and one very contrite Twi'lek.

"I can't believe you got the Hutt to back down." Mission gleefully praised.

"If you noticed I didn't. I still have to race." Skye retorted reproachfully. "Now I know you nosed around a bit, what do you find out about the other racers?"

Mission looked appropriately chagrined. "Yuka Rill holds the first heat's time of twenty-seven. Garm Totryl and Zoriis Bafka are clinging to last vestiges of racing careers. They're pushovers compared to what you faced on Taris. That last guy, the Twi'lek—Nico Senvi is tough. He's really good but not as good as you. Motta wants to sign 'em up in some big contract for the sleemo's company banner, have him go pro on some big tour circuit.

"Nico's kinda stuck up about it though, I wanted to help him out and all on account the contract doesn't pay well. He's getting a lousy cut. He won't talk me about it. Thinks I'm nothing but a little fan girl." Mission pouted. "I should have popped him one."

"Interesting." Skye's mind plotted courses. "This might be something we can use against the Hutt."

"Will you clarify?" Juhani questioned. "How is this advantageous to us?"

"Hutts always double deal. Now we have a token on the dejarik board Motta won't expect. If needs be we can agree to convince this swoop kid to sign up on the Hutt's ticket if he agrees to give-in to our needs."

"And what of the double-dealings?" the Cathar further questioned. "What makes you think he will honor that agreement if he breaks the first? Is this not a miscarriage of our power?"

"Greed. The one sure thing you can count on for a Hutt to bend to is his own relentless greed." Bastila answered for her bondmate. "And perhaps we can convince Motta to give this boy a fair deal. Everyone wins."

Skye nodded. "And it won't hurt to have the good will of that Hutt in our corner, especially after Big Z destroyed his droid. We may actually need a few points in our favour. However, that's neither here nor there, I still have this damned Championship to win." She gave a look to Mission causing the girl to shrink back "I'm heading out to the racetrack. Zaalbar should be back by now."

KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR

Two Jedi and two teenaged Tarissians watched the monitors anxiously as Skye zipped in and out of the rubble striking as many accelerating pads as possible without careening into the barriers. If she missed one set of pads she'd end up slowing down considerably. Swerving expertly in the beginning, the Nagai was awarded with a long line of booster pads near the end of the finish line.

Bastila felt as if she was astride the saddle along with Skye. She felt her bondmate connect with the Force. What was happenstance on Taris was a deliberate act here on Tatooine. Skye was using the Force to see rather than relying on her eyes to give her vision.

The first two heats posed little problem, on the third however, Motta threw a curve ball. Zoriis Bafka's time was 23:35. For the ingrained slight of the destroyed droid, Skye was given the time as 22:51. Motta apparently didn't believe the Jedi could best it. Skye managed 22:47- it was close, too close for the Jedi's liking but she managed to cross the finish line.

Swaggering into the office Skye moved directly for the Hutt.

"HA! You did well Jedi," he gruffed a begrudging complement in a dry chuckle.

"Even with the altered time you swindled," the Jedi countered. "I'll take my winnings now."

"Not so fast," Motta shook his massive head. "You owe me for that droid your pet destroyed. Your winnings should just about cover it."

"I don't think so." Skye would not be bullied. "You will give me my winnings and a slight bonus. In exchange, I will get what you want."

"What is that?"

"That boy. You want him to sign a contract, yes? I can make that happen. Thing is making sure he wants to. The split sixty-forty needs to be in his favour."

"That is not how I do business, Jedi."

"Well that explains why you're on this sandpit and not on Nar Shaddaa." The former Dark Lord taunted, "short-sightedness tsk tsk... Not very enterprising, is it? Now if you were, say, the innovative sort, you would see the great potential before you."

Motta was incensed yet intrigued and allowed the Nagai to continue.

"A substantial amount of credits can be made. Let this boy have the better end of the deal. He will make your name a brand name spoken about in every home from here to Nal Hutta. A household name..." Ravensong tempted, her voice smooth—dripping with possibilities. "Think of the potential. You will have the attention of all swoop racers, all clamoring to join your banner. When they ask that kid..." here she paused waiting for the Hutt to fall for the bait.

"Nico Senvi." Motta supplied.

"Right, right. That is, it." Skye snapped her fingers. "Shame it won't be a name anyone else knows either. Not if he doesn't sign with a brilliant Hutt like you, that is. If he were though, other racers will ask him 'Senvi, what percentage do you get?' He will tell them 'Sixty under Motta the Hutt's banner.' Then they will clamber to join you but they cannot expect to be given the high-ranking deal Senvi has been given, can they? I mean they'd have to earn that privilege. Wouldn't they?"

Motta rubbed the smallest of his row of chins. "Yes. Yes. More contracts, more credits and they will have to agree to my price."

"Brilliant tactic, I must admit." Skye uttered silkily. "A bold one- and wisely played."

Motta nodded. "Take your racing bonds and tell Senvi about the amended contract. Now leave my track, Jedi. You may be Tatooine's champion, but you are not welcome here."

Skye bowed. "By your leave, oh most flatulent opulent one."