Broken Recollections

- Jen Sahara -


Pain.

A dull throbbing emanated like a gong bashing inside my head, shattering my peaceful oblivion. Faint voices, whispering in tense and urgent tones, filtered in from distant shadows of my semi-conscious mind.

"Do not be alarmed. It is done, now. The rebuild is complete," someone said in a low, tired voice.

"What if she... what if she remembers something? Anything?" The reply was clipped, uptight and very feminine.

"She will not. And you will be there to ensure she does not. Have faith, Padawan. It will work out. It has to."

I prised open eyelids to see nothing but darkness. The voices fled, as if fearing the onslaught of consciousness. Just a bad dream. That's all. I have nothing to be alarmed about. A lance of red hot pain seized the side of my head with cruel fingers, biting deep before slowly fading away. I became aware of the cool press of metal against my cheek, and realized I was lying prone on the ground. Wait. Where am I?

A faint booming in the distance roused my awareness to the eerie wailing of sirens. The darkness was cut through by a flickering orange light, indicating an emergency system kicking in. I stayed still for a moment, processing what my vision could make out in the flashes of amber. There were two raised stretchers and a handful of lockers lining a vented, durasteel wall. I'm on a starship, I realized slowly. What am I doing here?

With a groan, I pushed myself up on shaky arms, and dizziness threatened to overwhelm me. The ground shook violently beneath my hands; it took me a moment to realize that it wasn't my own unsteadiness – the ship was being fired upon.

"All hands to the bridge!" a crackly voice emanated over the ship's intercom. "We're under attack!"

No kidding, dumbass. The thought was sarcastic and grouchy - even if unwarranted - and more a reflex reaction to my own situation. And yet, it felt wrong, or at least, not what I should be thinking. That was uncharitable of me, a voice whispered. I winced, dragging myself to a seated position and leaning back against a wall, clutching at the side of my head.

It was wet and sticky.

I must have fallen against something, I realized. Cracked my head open. I pulled back a shaky hand, and under the luminescence of the warning lights realized it was covered in blood. Blood on my hands. Somehow, it seemed a familiar sight.

A door swished open, and I heard someone rush in, panting.

"Jen, there you are! We've been ambushed by a Sith battle fleet – you need to get up!" The voice was young, strong-sounding and very earnest. I tilted my head slowly to face him.

Jen. Jen Sahara. That's who I am. Until he'd said my name, I hadn't realized I hadn't known it. Head injury. Sithspit, this is bad.

Father would tan me if he heard such language, I thought, appalled.

"Jen?"

Like I give a ronto's arse what some misogynistic old coot thinks.

"Jen!" The man was crouching in front of me now, wholesome blue eyes staring at me worriedly. With a concerted effort of will, I forced my concentration back to him. Human, muscle-bound and handsome, he was obviously a soldier of some description. I picked him to be in his late twenties somewhere, younger than me and in optimum condition.

Wait. Younger? I'm only twenty-six galactic years. I was raised in a peaceful commune on Deralia, working on my father's farm before spending the last eight years studying at the local academia. The job contract from the Jedi Order had come out of nowhere, and still seemed like an impossible dream.

But… none of that felt right. I wasn't a scholar. And I sodding well did not work for the Jedi.

Sweat broke out on my neck and head, and I heard the harsh pants of my own breath. A feeling of vertigo threatened to overcome me and I struggled anew to force myself back to the present.

"You're hurt," the man said softly, placing a hand against my head. "Can you stand? We have to get moving."

I pushed his arm away instinctively. "Who are you?" I snapped, glaring at him.

The man's eyes flared briefly, a shadow of some dark emotion skimming over his otherwise intent expression. "That knock's done some damage to your head. I'm Trask, a soldier for the Republic and your roommate." He withdrew his hand, his entire posture tensing in readiness as he crouched over me. "Do you... do you know who you are?"

The surreality of the question mirrored the dizziness of my own thoughts; still, there was something about the line of inquiry that had my hackles rising. "I'm Jen Sahara," I muttered. I'm Jen Sahara. The words echoed, a hollow sound in my mind, a reverberation that felt off-key. The man in front of me seemed to relax, even as my own confusion peaked once more. "And you're Trask Ulgo."

Trask. Ensign Ulgo. Blurred memories slowly emerged as he leaned forward to help me stand. Trask has been helping me adjust to life onboard this overwhelming starcruiser. My thoughts stilled for a moment, as my gaze narrowed on him. Trask was good at running my life, informing me where to go, and what to do, and saving me from making gizka eyes at the captain. Wait... what sort of simpering coward am I?

Trask was a soldier for the Republic. And yet, he'd been assigned to bunk in with me – a nobody scholar hired by the Jedi to investigate some archaeological dig. Why would a combat soldier be sharing my quarters?

I'd never thought to question it before, which was strange in itself.

Things were coming back to me now; the hurried departure from Deralia – odd, that my father let me go – the week of dazed orientation on the awe-inspiring Hammerhead-class cruiser – not like it's that sodding spectacular – the studying of classified archaeological extracts that had certainly never passed clearance back at the Deralian Academia. I hadn't understood exactly what the Jedi were looking for, but I'd been quietly content to do their bidding whilst onboard the Endar Spire, en route to Tatooine.

Quietly content. To follow some Jedi to a smuggling destination.

What the frell is going on?

I winced as pain stabbed deep into the side of my head yet again, my thoughts unraveling in desperate confusion.

Trask had turned back to my sleeping quarters, locating a pair of track shoes which he threw unceremoniously in my direction. "Here. Put those on quick and we'll head out."

They tightened to fit my feet with a barely audible hiss. I was vaguely aware of my attire; plain clothes I'd been resting in while the cruiser had been attacked. Nothing protective in the least. Trask had the right idea though; the ship quaked beneath another barrage and I barely kept my balance. We had to move.

Trask unbuckled a blaster which he promptly handed to me, handle first. "The Sith have already boarded. Have you ever used one of these before, Jen?"

I stared down at the Echani M4 bolt blaster; Trask had kept the standard Republic issue gun and handed me a lighter weight, yet infinitely more accurate model. Definitely my preference. I powered it on, checked the thermal batteries and charging light before raising it experimentally to test the weight.

"Yep."

"Okay," he replied slowly. He looked a bit taken aback. "Well, let's move out. Stay behind me, and we'll make our way to the bridge. Our first priority is to find Bastila."

Bastila. I should know that name. I must have appeared blank, as Trask's frown deepened.

"Jedi Shan. The commanding officer here on the Endar Spire!" he said urgently. Recollection unfolded, like access into a secure databank suddenly being released. Jedi Shan. She's in charge of our mission. Funny, I'd thought the commander had been a guy. And wasn't this a Republic ship?

Trask was waiting by the door, tapping his foot impatiently like a petulant child while I struggled with the cobwebs of my hazy mind.

"Jedi Shan can take care of herself," I answered finally, leveling a serious look at him. "We should be heading to the escape pods."

The crackly voice from the earlier broadcast spat out another ship-wide message. "The Sith have overrun our position! Evacuate immediately!"

I raised my hands to indicate that even Mr. Crackly agreed with me, but Trask was shaking his head urgently. "You signed a contract with the Jedi, and Bastila will be able to look after you, Jen. I must get you to her!"

There's something else going on here, I realized with mounting suspicion. He may be a Republic soldier, but he's been assigned to me. I bet he reports to Jedi Shan, not the Republic. Why would an anonymous scholar like Jen Sahara warrant a guard? I stared at him intently. There are ways of making a soldier talk. And scream.

That was a different inner voice. Dark and malicious, shocking me with it's implied cruelty.

Focus. Focus! I pushed down the venomous thought with an internal wrench. I needed to do the smart thing, and concentrate on escaping. I can find out why my mind is a spice-addled mess later. I've got to get out of here first, especially with the Sith crawling around.

Sith… and the Republic. Why did I feel like I couldn't trust either side?

With an effort almost beyond me, I slid a mask of calm competence over my frantic, derailing thoughts. "Alright, let's go soldier," I said briskly.

Concern momentarily creased Trask's strong face. "I know you're not used to fighting, Jen, but I promise you we'll get out of here alive. Stay behind me, and aim that blaster at any Sith we meet."

I followed him quietly out of the door – and straight into the enemy.

Two black-clad soldiers turned shiny visors in our direction. Trask was already charging, a vibrosword brandished in both hands, halfway to the nearest one before a weapon was even pointed in his direction. The armoured Sith yelled in pain as Trask smashed his blade hard on an upraised limb, following it with a powerful swing into the Sith's side.

My hands held the Echani pistol steady, sighting the second soldier as I was vaguely aware of the first collapsing to the ground. Always aim for the centre of mass. Hot on the trigger, I unleashed a flurry of bolts directly at the man's upper chest.

He'd been focused on Trask, right up until my shots hit home.

The Sith grunted, wildly swinging his blaster to sight me. He's got one of those frelling energy shields, if he's still standing! I fired again, holding my position, as a foreign voice squeaked through my mind-

I've never shot at anyone in my life! Suddenly, I was drenched in an appalled sense of horror, as the barrel of the enemy's blaster flared at me. This is-

An agonizing burn stabbing into my shoulder punched me to the ground; black spots invaded my vision as I stared up at the vented ceiling, stunned.

The hiss of blaster fire sounded fuzzy, distant... Kath crap, two Sith mooks should be child's play. If this is my end then… it is really quite embarrassing. My tenuous control over my thoughts was fading, and the sensation of sinking deep into an abyss began to overcome me. Those pathetic gravel maggots aren't fit to lick my boots.

"Jen, you have to get up," Trask panted, his face appearing above me. "They're dead. We have to go. Just- just stay behind me. I'll protect you the best I can." He pulled me up roughly, and vertigo danced a dangerous samba through me once more.

Nausea reared. Trask's face was shiningly earnest, and all I could think was that I was one step away from puking all over him.

We have to keep moving. Trask's grip was firm on my upper arm as my head began to clear. "Right," I rasped, before clearing my throat. "Right. Lead on." My shoulder burned and throbbed. I yanked my arm back, sending Trask a firm nod as I strove to ignore the blaze of pain.

Use your pain, a voice taunted. Use your anger.

A second after that insidiously dark thought, there was something else. Something else in my mind, some sort of presence or consciousness beyond the conflicting thoughts that had been tormenting me.

Something that didn't belong to me at all-

Trask was already striding away, stepping over bloodied corpses without a second look as he turned into an unoccupied service corridor.

I followed in a daze.

Now that I'd noticed this... thing – and it was sentient, I knew it was – I could sense flashes of panic emanating from it. Not my own panic... no, this was separate to my own maelstrom of emotions, I was certain. But then a cloud of calm and lucidity enveloped the... person... and their attention was abruptly swung on me.

It felt like a halogen light was shining directly inside my head.

Ice froze in my spine, and self-preservation took over; I pointedly thought and felt absolutely nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

It appeased the presence; how I knew, I couldn't explain, but a sense of relief emanated from it briefly before it slowly faded away.

"…hurt, but conscious. I'll take her directly to the escape pods. May the Force protect you."

I was biting my lip so hard the coppery taint of blood filled my mouth. Vaguely, awareness returned: Trask had been busy speaking into a personal communicator, and now he was turning back to face me.

"We're going to the nearest escape pods, it's not far from here – just past the bridge."

Well, that's a change of heart. "Given up on Bastila, huh?" I said, with a flippancy I didn't feel.

"She'll wait for us there as long as she can," he informed me, briefly looking down at the communicator inset on his Republic armour. That was her he was just speaking to, I realized with a cold clarity.

That was her in my mind.

…and I bet she expects me to act like meek little Jen Sahara. I was thinking about myself in the third person. Wasn't that a sign of insanity?

I have to stop freaking out. But it felt more… natural… to consider Jen as someone… someone who was not me.

Whether I'm Jen or not-Jen, it's in everyone's best interest if I pretend to be her. A cool shaft of logic cleared the tumultuous confusion of my spiraling thoughts. Sweetness and light. I'll play this out until I have a better handle on everything.

I took a deep breath. Control. Rise above the emotions. No, that's not Jen, I realized. Panic, trust in the big tough guy. I looked up at Trask, practicing my best hero-worship expression. I'd better keep this up. I've a funny feeling my life may depend on it.

Trask motioned me once more to follow him, and we cut through an empty conference room. Datapads littered the chrome-topped plasticeel tables, and a body slumped lifelessly over an office chair. Without comment, we moved briskly into the adjacent hallway. Red and amber sidings indicated this as a restricted area - we were nearing the bridge. Through the next door and…

…my minds eye was overcome with a vision of a Jedi battling a Dark Jedi, lightsabers whirling and crashing. Bright green hissed and sparked against blood red like a display of electro-lights in the night's sky. Focus! I've no time to wallow in dreams right now!

"It's a Dark Jedi!" Trask hissed, pushing me backwards. Dizziness surged through me. "This fight is too much for us – we'd better stay back. All we'd do is get in the way."

With a startled jolt I realized this was reality. The two feinted, dodged and parried – faster than normal sentients, their reactions obviously aided by the mystical power that only the very few could wield.

And I could sense it. Or… something… crackling between the two of them. The female Twi'lek, a brown-clad Jedi, raised her arm and I felt a torrent of energy pushing out from her and striking the Dark Jedi Human, who fell and rolled to the side. He counter-attacked by deftly manipulating the power buzzing around the two of them, wrapping it about her neck and squeezing.

This is a dream, this isn't real. I want to go home! the meek voice I was beginning to associate as Jen blubbered. Yet part of me was eyeing the fight critically as the Twi'lek flung aside the psychic power and advanced once more on her opponent. The 'sabers clashed again and again, and the man's technique had a fumbling edge to it that indicated he was the inferior.

She'll finish him soon.

The female struck a killing blow, and the Sith staggered to his knees, coughing up blood in his dying throes. I felt terrified, revolted... and simultaneously detached from the whole spectacle. The ship rocked again and a power conduit exploded behind the woman. Arcs of lightning spat from the electronics, catching the Jedi off-guard and electrocuting her instantly.

Even the Jedi were mortal.

She crumpled to the ground, an anguished moan expelling the last of the air from her lungs.

Trask cursed audibly. "That was one of the Jedi accompanying Bastila! Stang, we could have used her help!"

Acting on instinct, I scurried forward and quickly rifled through the still-warm corpses, eager the grab one of the lightsabers.

"Jen, we don't have time!" Trask grabbed my arm and dragged me toward the exit. Blood pounded through my head, a jagged slice of pain cutting through any instinctive resistance, strong enough to keep me momentarily pliant. "We need to get out of here – if there's one Dark Jedi, there's going to be others!"

Rage exploded from within, surging through my veins like a maelstrom. No one grabs me like that. I was hyperaware of the blaster in my hand, and how easy it would be to raise it and shoot Trask point-blank in the face.

At once, the entity… or was it Bastila? honed in on my mind again with a razor-sharp awareness that had me freezing in surprise. My anger drew her attention, I realized with a chill. This is some sort of mind-link.

Sweetness and light, I thought numbly. Control the rage… for now. I quashed my anger with a controlled ease I didn't dare dwell on, and let Jen's feelings come to the fore. Panicked... but safe in the presence of big strong Trask. Ugh.

The focus of the presence turned away from me imperceptibly. Then, in a sudden rush, it disappeared from my awareness altogether.

"Lead on Trask," I said in a sweet voice. "I'm right behind you." With a blaster pointed at your head.

The ship rumbled ominously, and we picked up our pace. The cruiser didn't seem like it would hold together much longer, and it was with relief that I noticed we finally made it to the bridge.

It was deserted now; two corpses hung over bucket chairs, and I saw Trask grimace as if in pain. The flight control computers were dim, and one was charred and cracked. A lightsaber did that. Outside the ferracrystal window, a nearby blue planet rolled alarmingly past our visage; the Endar Spire was no longer under any steady flight pattern.

"Escape pods," I muttered, as my shoulder throbbed a painful rhythm in sync with my heartbeat. The side of my head replied in a lacerating echo. "Where are they, Trask?"

"This way," he answered, and we left the bridge via the starboard exit. The next hallway had a side door. As we neared to pass, we both heard a sound from behind – an ominous snap-hiss some part of me recognized all too well, accompanied with a malicious laugh.

"There's something behind here," Trask warned in a low tone.

"Well, duh," I muttered. Trask shot me a surprised look. Oh. That's not really a Jen response. I schooled my face, and clenched the blaster tight in my hand.

The door opened and from deep within the room beyond a man faced us arrogantly, fitted in a sturdy exoskeleton that well exceeded Republic issue armour. He held a lightsaber which radiated blood-red, reflecting sparks of colour across chrome walls. I felt the same power surging from him, but eons more potent that the Jedi fight we witnessed earlier. It almost made me stagger back in its intensity.

Fear struck hard in my gut. I was in no state to face anyone half as powerful as this guy.

"Damn – another Dark Jedi! I'll try to hold him off; you get to the escape pods! Go!" Trask shoved me backwards and ran through the opening, slamming his hand on the door controls as he crossed the threshold. The last I saw was the Dark Jedi sauntering toward him, a cruel smile playing across bloodless, amused lips.

Was he frelling crazy? He just committed suicide! To say I was startled was an understatement. We may have been bunkmates for awhile, but to give his life for me… Stupid idiot. Unless... He's been ordered to get me out of here alive, at any cost.

Preferably to Jedi Bastila Shan.

"Well, let's not waste that," I muttered, and broke into as fast a sprint as my head injury would allow. Another door on my left, hopefully leading to the escape pods. I heard the clanking of a Sith group marching in that awful armour just beyond the wall.

Sounds like about four of them. No way I can take them all on.

There was a computer terminal mounted on the side of the room, which was next to useless for me. A broken assault droid that might have been helpful had someone not smashed both its arms off. A Sith body behind it clutched a vibrosword in a dead hand.

Adrenaline pumped an urgent tempo in my veins. I had to keep moving away from the Dark Jedi, yet the next room meant certain death. I glanced erratically around the area, but no salvation was forthcoming.

Irrational fury was growing, hot and heavy in my gut. I will not go down like this. It was slicing though the fear, surging through me and revitalizing aching muscles. The pain of my injuries dimmed as anger overrode everything, demanding an immediate outlet. I will not go down like this!

I snatched the vibrosword up with a snarl, stuffing the blaster in my belt before slamming my hand on the door control. There was barely time to register four armoured Sith before I charged in, vibrosword primed. The nearest one hadn't even turned when the blade of my weapon smashed down on that weak join of their shiny armour, that place where shoulder plate and neck brace met. He crumpled beneath a shower of red droplets.

Feral instinct took control. I stabbed sideways, blade piercing through the visor of the next Sith. Leaping back, I dodged behind the side of the door as blaster fire pinged past. I pressed myself hard against the wall, dropping one hand from the vibrosword and pulling out the Echani blaster.

Two figures side-stepped into view, firing even as my finger was hot on the trigger. The first fell from my barrage, just as a deep burn seared into my already mangled shoulder.

The pain was intense. It scythed through the berserker rage, dissipating it like smoke on the wind. Weapons fell from my suddenly limp grasp. Kath crap, I thought inanely.

But luck was on my side – I heard a couple of blasts and the last soldier collapsed. Looking at me from beyond the corpses with something like shock was a Republic officer, if his uniform was anything to go by.

"You've made it just in time!" he said in a commanding voice. "There's only one escape pod left. Come on, we can hide out on the planet below!"

I recognized him, I realized numbly as he advanced. Captain Onasi, some hotshot flyboy in charge of the ship. Although Trask had said this Bastila had been. Either way, the captain seemed fairly competent on first glance; probably the sort who didn't leave people behind. Belatedly, I remembered sweet little Jen had a crush on him.

Oh, great. Well, whether I'm Jen or someone else, I'm certainly not going to act that one out. I remembered blushing and scurrying away the one time he had spoken to me. You have got to be kidding me, I thought in vague irritation.

I nodded at him, took a few steps and dropped to my knees. Blood pounded through my head, and I heard a loud rushing noise.

"Stang!" someone cursed, and I felt myself being lifted. My grasp on consciousness, and sanity for that matter, was slipping away. Faces and images sparked through my mind like chaotic shards of lightning shearing through the gloom and destroying all in its path.

A robed Zabrak wielding a cyan blade. A handsome man with eyes the ecru shade of Corellian whiskey- no, no, they were a poisoned yellow. A wry grin from a blind guardian. Yellow eyes burning with passion. Blood. Terror. Darkness. Yellow eyes burning with hate. A yellow Twi'lek offering his hand in unbending loyalty.

Yellow eyes and black death. So much death.

There was a sharp prick in my arm, and I was vaguely aware of being placed on a seat.

"A shot of kolto. We'll get you more when we land," a voice said. Something tightened around my waist like a belt, but all I could feel was this sense of nightmarish horror.

It wasn't meant to end like this! I could see light above, but it would be too much of a struggle to reach, and I would only bring the shadows with me.

I let myself drop, sinking into a welcome darkness.

Then sweet, sweet oblivion claimed me.

xXx