"I thought you were cutting back on the drinking."
Trista looked up as Atton stopped at her booth in the cantina. "So did I. Have a seat." She patted the spot next to her, and he set his glass down and settled in. "I'm here on business."
"Business meeting in a cantina, best kind." He leaned back against the cushion. "And what unfortunate soul are you pestering today?"
"The Exchange."
"Wait." Atton snapped upright. "Look, I don't know how out of touch you are—"
"Shush." She sipped her drink. "I survived on the Rim for ten years."
"Yeah, and I'm wondering how."
"You try having the Force push itself back into your head, unwarranted, and see if it doesn't throw you off balance." She took another sip, feeling the bitter liquid burn on the way. "I'm coming to terms with it, and it's getting easier to focus without that screeching 'look at me' inside your head."
"So the first thing you do with your newfound sanity is meet with the Exchange." Atton shook his head and downed half his drink. "And I use the term 'sanity' loosely."
"Not the Exchange," Trista said, "Luxa. Slusk's third in command."
"Not better."
"There you are." The Zeltron slid into their booth, still wearing only a small amount of leather that left swaths of her purplish skin bare. "Luxa. We met before."
"Yes." Trista took a sip of her drink before offering her hand. Luxa shook it. "Trista Morace, as I'm sure you've heard. This is Atton Rand."
Atton did not extend his own hand. "A glorified bodyguard, if you were wondering."
"I wasn't." Luxa turned back to Trista. "So what do you want, Jedi?"
"For everyone to stop calling me that, first. I'm not a Jedi."
"Shame. Fair enough. I can't speak for everyone, though, there are a number of preconceived notions about you."
"Second, I want to know if the Exchange has my ship."
"I don't know, but I can find out. Is that the only reason you arranged this meeting?" Luxa took a sip of her own drink, raising her eyebrows over the rim. Atton finished the rest of his.
"No, I need to meet with Loppak Slusk."
"Loppak Slusk? What do you wanna see the squid-head for?"
"I'm working with the Ithorians, and they want the Exchange to back off. I would ask you, but I'm sure speaking with Slusk would be more efficient."
Luxa nodded, one long nail tapping her glass. "I can get you in... with one condition." Trista nodded. "You seem like a capable sort. Tell me, are you?"
"I can handle myself."
"Good, I like that in a woman." Atton's hand tightened on his glass next to her. Trista took another sip, ignoring the woman's near-sultry tone. "So here it is. You help me, I'll keep the Exchange off your back, find your missing ship... and get off the Ithorians. Sound good?"
"What's the catch?"
"I want you to kill Slusk."
Trista sighed. "I'm not a hitman. What's your issue with him?"
"What, besides his being your typical slimy Quarren?" She spat. "Slusk works for Goto, out of Nar Shaddaa. Now this Goto, he's rigid, ruthlessly efficient, and all he sees are numbers. Goto keeps the squid around because he maintains a steady flow of income... but it's half of what I know it could be. I should be the Citadel's boss – but Goto doesn't allow breaks in the chain of command. I can't go over Slusk's head, so I've got to take care of him myself." She pointed. "And that's where you come in."
"Pretend I'm interested. What are you proposing?"
"I can get you into the Exchange in Residential 082. They're west of the entrance, across from Czerka."
"The Bumoni Exchange."
"Yes. More than a few of the guards are in my pocket, so there shouldn't be much resistance. When Slusk's out of the way, I'll clear up this bounty and get your ship back. Deal?"
Trista sipped her drink.
::She is lying.::
::I am aware.:: It wasn't hard. She'd been out on the Rim, traveling between worlds, homesteading, staying off everyone's radar. But she had learned to trust her gut and her instincts. Trista leaned over to Atton, turning her head away from Luxa's eyes.
"You heard of this Goto guy?" she whispered.
"He's one of the Exchange's big shots on Nar Shaddaa."
Yeah. Even if Luxa moved up... she might get the ship, but not the bounty. She wasn't high enough in the food chain. Trista turned back and took another sip of her drink.
"You'll get this bounty removed, or just ease up on me on Telos?"
She waved her hand. "I'll see about getting it removed. I can't make any promises — that's up to Goto."
Trista pursed her lips. She doubted that so deeply she could feel it in her core.
"Get us into the Exchange, and we'll see. How's that?"
Luxa nodded. "Fair enough, but I suspect Slusk won't give you another option. I'll spread the word and have things in place by morning." She stood, saluting sardonically as she did. "See you later, Jedi."
Atton was silent as she left, and then predictably exploded afterward. "Are you serious?"
Trista sipped her drink again. "As a rancor pit."
"This is insane." He stood, leaning down on the table. "I mean, really, I've done some crazy things, but this is insane. I'll be in the next room. Try to not make a deal with the Sith while I'm gone."
Trista nodded, and he left.
::Our time would be spent more efficiently elsewhere.::
::The Ithorians have shuttles to the restoration zones, Kreia. If we help them, they will help us.::
::The affairs of a single planet are distracting you,:: she chided. ::Do you not think there are other planets more deserving of your aid or, perhaps, a galaxy that requires a guiding hand to avoid destruction? The restoration effort is doomed to fail without the fuel Peragus provided. There is no reason to assist these people.::
She set her glass down on the table hard, then smiled awkwardly when a few nearby patrons looked her way. ::What else would you have me do? Sit around and wait for the ship to fall into our laps, or for the Sojourn to take us to Coruscant? I have never done well with waiting.::
::If I recall the path of the Mandalorian Wars, it was you who urged Revan to take the less expedient road.:: Trista nursed her drink irritably. ::She feared the Mandalorians would resort to a war of attrition if not stopped. You did not agree.::
::We did not agree on many things. That was just one of them.::
::And yet you followed her orders unquestionably... and did not when she left for the Unknown Regions. Curious.::
Trista downed half her drink in one swallow. ::I wanted us to return to the Jedi. I wanted to return to the Jedi. We fought, and she left. That is that.:: Her dream from the night before returned, and she coughed as she almost choked on her drink.
::Indeed. Perhaps someday we will discover who was correct.::
::It isn't about who's right.::
Kreia fell silent. Trista finished her drink, paid the bartender, and left after stopping to tell Atton she was doing so.
Outside, she tucked her jacket around herself, despite the air inside Citadel Station being comfortable, and walked along the entertainment module. This part of the station was on its night cycle, and quiet save for the booming of the cantina's music. The further she got from the cantina, the fewer people she saw.
She let herself muse.
Regaining the Force had thrown her, hard. To go from a decade of loneliness, dead inside her own mind, to feeling life and energy around her — to feeling like a Jedi again. It was like being tossed from a cliff into a maelstrom. It had deafened her as soundly as that last day at Malachor. But now that her feet were under her, she thought perhaps, maybe, she was growing used to the new normal.
She still had to deal with people again, and that was hard. While she'd run into some on her travels, and sought them out rarely, the moments had been few. She had been content to take the odd job here or there, too transient to settle in one place, too worried that as soon as she stopped running her past would catch up.
Just like it did.
But something held her back. The torrent of the Force felt hollow, as if something ate away at it. Close, like she could turn around and touch it. It frightened her, made her afraid to seek it out — to immerse herself again like she once had. Even now it loomed behind her, threatening to overwhelm her if she'd let it.
"Looking a little lost, aren't you?."
Trista snapped out of her musing and stared down the man who'd interrupted her.
"I'm walking. That's not a crime yet."
Should she be acting like a Jedi? She'd been trying, but it felt fruitless — why try to emulate what she wasn't, even if that's what everyone wanted? People would expect what they'd expect, and that was their problem. She was already tired of the ruse.
"Nah," the man said. The overwhelming Force presence vanished into two men stepping up behind her. Great, a shakedown. "But there's a bounty on your head, on the 'pretty little Jedi bitch.' Besides Goto's. That means you, sweetheart. So come along quiet or we'll make you."
"You're mistaken, about many things. Especially if you think you can manhandle me."
"Didn't think we were asking." His hand snapped out and locked around her wrist, and she pulled back.
She had little doubt the second bounty came from Benok, in revenge for breaking his arm. So, because it was a secondary Exchange member, they would not take her to Slusk. Therefore, any attempt to go with them wouldn't let her toy the situation to her advantage — especially not when the ringleader seemed particularly dense.
That meant a fight and, at the moment, she wanted to oblige them.
"Let go. I am far more than you can handle."
"Ain't seen much more than talk, right now. You gonna come quiet, or—"
Trista slammed her elbow down on his arm, forcing him to release her. A swift kick pushed him back, and she drew her vibrosword and swung back to the other two men. One lunged for her and she sliced across his chest, cutting deep. A quick spin of the blade echoed it down the second assailant's chest. The first man came up and tried to grab her arms, and she pushed him back into the wall. When he struggled back to his feet, she smacked the hilt of the sword into the side of his head. He dropped.
Steps sounded down the hall, and she turned to see a few TSF agents running toward her. She sheathed her sword and held up her hands. Cameras. Made sense, given how close they were to the 081 office.
"I was being assaulted," Trista said as she stepped to the side. "None of them should die, but they will need medical attention."
"Stay there for now."
Trista thrust her hands into her pockets and waited as the TSF cleared up the scene, questioned the two she'd sliced as they applied kolto bandages, and handcuffed the lot of them.
"There you are!" Atton danced around one of the TSF agents to join her. "Just followed the closest TSF patrol and figured I'd find you. What happened?"
"Benok put a bounty on me, I think."
He scowled. "Not surprised, Exchange mooks are sensitive." Atton rested his hands on her shoulders and looked her over. "You okay?"
"Fine." She nodded. "It's my fault, I wasn't paying attention to where I was. I just had to clear my head a bit."
"Not your fault, hJust be careful. You know, don't get yourself killed or anything. It's apparently bad for the galaxy or something."
Trista replied with a smile. "Or something."
He looked about to say something, but one of the TSF agents interrupted. "Master Jedi, Grenn says you can leave."
Trista sighed and started to correct him, but then let it go. "Thank you."
"Let's head back."
Trista nodded, and they started for the shuttle. "How'd the pazaak go?"
Atton stretched. "Oh, fine, I made a few credits."
"Good. At least someone has something around here."
"Yeah, better than nothing." As they settled down on the shuttle, he glanced over again. "You sure you're all right?"
She nodded, wrenching her mind back from her earlier thoughts. "Why wouldn't I be?"
#
The next day, the trio approached the Exchange's Rodian door guard. The alien leaned up against the door, fiddling with a blaster, and didn't look as they approached.
"You have no business with the Bumoni Exchange Corporation," he said. "Get out of here."
"I'm working with Luxa."
The Rodian looked up, narrowed his bulbous eyes, and then straightened. "I hope you know what you're getting into." He turned back to the panel. "Vula, a human is here to see Slusk. Everything checks out. Please open the door." With that, he glanced at them again, then sprinted deeper into 082. The door opened next to them.
"You ready?"
"Nope." Atton drew his blaster. "But let's go."
Trista glanced at Kreia, who nodded, and started into the offices.
Inside, an older human woman sat behind a desk. She motioned them over.
"I'm terribly sorry, but there appears to be a mistake. I don't have a record of your appointment. Are you sure it was for today?"
"Of course." Trista put on her most winning smile. "Why else would they let me in? Perhaps the mistake is in the system."
"Well, if..." She sighed. "Very well, what was your name?"
"Trista Morace."
"Really?" Atton hissed.
The woman nodded and opened her intercom. "Excuse me. Lopak Slusk's 1030 appointment has arrived. Please open the reception door." The door opened, and she looked up and smiled. "There you are. Have a good day!"
As Trista stepped through, the Gamorreans gathered inside gave them one uninterested look before going back to their grunting conversation. Trista swallowed, nodded, and then glanced to either side. "We'll start over there," she said, pointing, before heading left.
Through the single door stood a series of three force cages. Only one was active, holding a worried-looking Ithorian who cowered away from her as they approached.
"Oh, boy," Atton said. Trista approached the cage.
"Hi there."
"Have you come to torment me, like the others?" The Ithorian drew back, almost to the far edge of the cage.
"No, of course not," Trista said. "Why are you here?"
"Perhaps you will free me? I was placed here by two large Gamorreans, and I do not know why. They have not fed me, and will not allow me to return to my herd."
"Do you know where the control panel is?"
"I do not. I believe it is operated remotely. There should be a security panel somewhere."
"I'll see what I can do. If it goes down, run as fast as you can back to the Ithorians."
"Oh, thank you. I will."
She turned back. Atton had opened the other door in the room, but was closing it with a shake of his head as she turned.
"Just storage. Nothing interesting."
"Okay. Let's keep moving."
The Gamorreans were just as disinterested as they moved through this time, and they opened the other door into a hallway. As Trista reached out her hand for the second door, Kreia stopped her.
"I sense much life ahead of us. We should prepare ourselves."
Trista flicked on one of the shield generators they'd found, and Atton did the same. "Let's be ready, then. Atton, use the door for cover if you need it."
"Already planning on it, Tris."
With a short, curt nod, Trista punched the door's access panel, and it slid open.
Directly ahead of them stood a Quarren in white robes, delicately and expensively embroidered at the edges, talking to Benok. Scattered about the room were several other rough-looking mercenaries, most of whom turned as the door opened. Trista counted — five. She motioned to Kreia, and she nodded.
"—idea who this appointment is. Head out, vet them and let them through if you think—" Slusk and Benok finally spotted them. "Oh. You've got a lot of nerve coming here, Jedi, with the bounty we have on your kind."
"Which is stupid, given I'm not a Jedi."
"Good, it'll be that much easier to kill you. You're marked, human, whether you're a Jedi or not means nothing to me."
"I thought I was worth more alive."
"Maybe, but I'm not a gambler. It's easier to ship Goto a corpse in a cargo container than a live prisoner, and you're worth enough dead. Now what do you want?"
"Well," she said. "That's a long list. We'll start with these, though: everyone to stop calling me a Jedi, these bounties off, my ship back, and for you to lay off the Ithorians."
"I'm not obliged to do any of that."
"Then I'm not the one who will die today."
"Yes, yes, very melodramatic. Benok, take care of this nuisance."
Benok eyed her with a slanted grin. "With pleasure."
Trista shot off like a rocket through the door, throwing her vibrosword through one of the Rodians. She pulled the sword back to her and brought it up to meet Benok's. He bound them together and grinned.
"He's not a betting man, but I am. You put this sword down, I won't hurt you."
She used the Force to shove him off her, back into the workbench behind him. "Comparatively, he's a genius."
Benok snarled and brought his sword down again, and she stepped back so it whistled behind him. One hand snapped out and she grasped a chair with the Force, flinging it toward him. He dodged and she swung her sword again, sending a series of sparks flying from his breastplate. He growled and lunged again, earning him another chair straight to his chest. Benok held up his arm to block and Trista threw herself forward, jamming her sword into the weak spot just under his arm. He released a surprised huff, then slid off her sword.
She glanced back, but found the other Exchange goons already down.
"Everyone okay?"
"Fine," Atton said. He kneeled next to her and picked up Benok's blaster. "Mind if I keep this?"
"It's... all yours?"
"What? It's not like he's using it." Atton shoved it into his belt. "And it's better than mine."
Trista pulled out a tunneler out of her bag as she headed for the door. "I already said you can keep it, Atton."
The door zipped open, into a large room populated by more disinterested-looking Gamorreans.
"Before we keep going." Atton grabbed Trista's arm to stop her. "Can we talk real quick?"
"If it is quick," Kreia said, and he glared at her.
"You don't think Luxa's going to hold up her end of the bargain, do you? I just want to make sure we're on the same page."
"Don't be ridiculous." Trista pulled out of his arm. "First, I don't think she knows where the ship is. I'm hoping Slusk's system does, or that he's willing to help us. Second, if Goto is a big Exchange boss, he won't give a damn what some mini-boss says, not if he's paying out the nose for Jedi. If I had to guess, she'll use us to kill Slusk, try to take out the two of you, and then bundle me off to Nar Shaddaa once we're deep in the office."
"Okay, good. And when Luxa turns on us?"
Trista raised a brow. "I didn't expect you to have these qualms."
"Look, you're the one with morals. I'm trying to make sure we're going the 'killing' route instead of the 'talking' route."
"If Luxa decides she'll fight us, then yes, wWe kill her."
"Great!"
Trista nodded curtly and headed into the room, giving the Gamorreans a wide berth. The smell was something atrocious. Only focus kept her from gagging, from pulling her shirt over her nose. With a hesitation born of overworked olfactory channels, she approached the one beside the next door's access terminal.
"Hello, I'm—"
The Gamorrean planted one beefy hand on her chest and pushed. She caught herself before stumbling and grabbed his hand, pushing back. The Force glimmered inside her and she grabbed for it, feeding it into the push, and the big, heavy alien stepped back with a grunted chuckle.
"Luxa said you were strong," he grunted. "I will get you inside. We will see how strong you are." He turned for the panel, and Trista glanced back at Atton and Kreia. "Boss! Matu is here with Koobis, from the door. You want to see him?"
"Yes." Slusk did not sound happy.
"I will send him in right away." The Gamorrean pressed a button and jogged away.
As it opened, Slusk looked up from a circular desk across the room. The tentacles around his mouth waved in what, she guessed, was irritation.
"What? Ugh. Whoever let you back here better be dead, or they'll wish they were. Droids, take care of them."
One droid, clearly a bodyguard model, stepped through the door, and crumpled in on itself.
The second came within her reach, and Trista ripped its gun from its hands. The door began to close. "Shoot it, Atton!"
The terminal sparked next to her as she pulled the droid behind her, the door jerking back to the open position. A few shots echoed, and the droid whirred as it slumped to the ground. She stepped over the first droid.
"I am here to renegotiate," she said, walking toward the desk. Slusk kept it between the two of them, but definitely looked nervous.
"You've handled yourself well this far, but think things through. I can be a valuable ally."
"Mhm."
"What do you want? To join the Exchange? Money?"
"I already told you," Trista said with a sigh, holding up three fingers. "I want this bounty off, I want my ship back, and I want you to back off the Ithorians."
"Really, all this trouble for that?"
"Really, all this trouble just for that."
"Tris," Atton hissed, but Slusk cut off her before she could turn.
"Ah, I was wondering when you'd show, Luxa."
"Slusk." Luxa's voice came from behind her, and she stepped to the side to keep them both in view. Atton caught her eye, and she nodded.
"I assume this was all your doing?"
"I may have had a hand in this."
Slusk huffed. "I should have known, you were always ambitious. Enough with that. I do not believe we will all be leaving this room alive."
"Yeah," Trista agreed, "I'm getting that feeling."
"No, wait, don't kill me. You can be my right hand – the position's just opened up."
Trista sighed. "Sadly, given you haven't mentioned any of my very simple demands... I must pass."
"I see." Slusk tapped a few buttons on his console. Two turrets popped up to either side of the desk, training on her. "In that case, that's the last mistake you'll ever make."
The first shots flared off Trista's shields as she headed forward, vaulting the desk as Atton opened fire behind her. One turret began to crunch, a sound that would have been sick if it weren't metal. Slusk parried her first blow with a vibroblade. His return swing sliced down her arm. Trista staggered back with a hiss of pain, parrying off his second attack, then swinging back around for his wrist. The blade cut deep, and Slusk dropped the sword and caught it in time to block her next swing. But she was ready, and brought the vibrosword hard across Slusk's chest. The Quarren staggered back, then fell.
"You all right?" Atton danced around the remains of one turret and poked at her arm, but she waved him away.
"Yeah, yeah, it's just a scratch. I'm fine. You two?"
"We are uninjured."
"What she said." Atton handed her a medpack, and Trista cracked it open and smeared the kolto down her arm before looking up at Luxa and the Gamorreans that had followed her in. Kreia circled to the rear of the desk to join them.
"So," Trista said. Luxa crossed her arms, cocking her hip.
"Yes, that's all wrapped up. I've got you to thank."
"Great. Now, about our deal. Back off the Ithorians, or..." Trista motioned to Slusk's body, still oozing blood in the corner.
"Is that supposed to scare me?" Luxa laughed. "Let me tell you something — fried squid there isn't the best fighter."
Trista set her sword down on the table. "Let's just get this out of the way. Do you even know where my ship is?"
Luxa laughed again. "No, I don't. Never did. But you won't need it where you're going."
"Uh-huh. You're overestimating your chances."
"When you've come this far in the Exchange, it isn't by overestimating your abilities. Slusk might be dead, but Goto's still my boss. I'm shipping you to Nar Shaddaa, Jedi. So keep that sword where you put it, and we won't have to hurt you."
Trista sighed and picked the sword up. "To think, we could have avoided this. Thanks for the help, though, I appreciate it."
As Luxa motioned for the Gamorreans to charge, Trista hefted the sword and threw it.
Whatever the Zeltron expected, it wasn't that. She tried to dodge, but the sword hit right in her unarmored chest, and she fell to her knees with one surprised huff. Trista held out her hand and pulled her sword back to her, then reached out and bowled several Gamorreans off their feet.
With Luxa dead, the Gamorreans went down quickly — most were smart enough to run. Trista sheathed her sword and returned to Slusk's desk. After a few tries to slice into it, she sighed.
"Atton, how are you with computers?"
"I'm okay." He nudged her out of the way. "So, uh, going to Nar Shaddaa may not be a such a good idea."
Trista looked over his shoulder. "Why not?"
"The Exchange is one of the most powerful groups on the Smuggler's Moon. If Goto wants you this bad, it'd be great to show up on his doorstep! Not to mention, I'm sure Slusk has friends on Nar Shaddaa that won't be happy he's dead."
"Yeah, fair enough. We'll worry about that later — let's get off Telos first."
"Yeah, we'll burn that bridge later. Looks like I'm in."
Trista leaned on the computer. "Can you find Slusk's files?"
"I'll see what I can do. Want me to let the Ithorian out?"
"Yeah, if you found the command."
"Done. Can I get your datapad?"
She handed it to him, and he plugged it in. "See anything about the Hawk?"
Atton shook his head. "Nothing. Not even any trace records of an order, and I doubt Slusk woulda thought to delete it."
"No, people like Slusk don't think they're going to die."
He looked up. "So who would have done it?"
"No idea. Kreia?"
"It seems a third party is operating on Telos. Curious, is it not?"
"Yeah," Trista said, after a hesitant glance at Atton. "You know anything about it?"
"I do not, but I suspect we will learn in time."
Atton glanced at Trista and lowered his voice. "Have I mentioned that I hate that cryptic bullshit?"
"You know she can hear you."
"Yeah, I know."
Trista straightened up as her datapad dinged and straightened. "All right, let's go check in with Habat and then tell Grenn his people can come clean this joint up."
