Hyperspace: IV – part one
Roland Wann
This was, perhaps, the ultimate failure of my career. The Republic Embassy was on the cusp of being recalled entirely from Manaan, and any sentient on the street knew what that meant. No more kolto.
I could feel the disgust frowning its way onto my face. Those blasted Selkath and their alien ideals of peace! There could be no peace with those Sith bastards lurking around in the galaxy, but the Selkath turned a blind eye to full-scale murder and destruction when it wasn't in their backyard. Frankly, I was all for leaving the Selkath to themselves, if it wasn't for their thrice-damned kolto. Nowhere else in galaxy was there such a large, readily accessible source.
My career was done for if we were shut down. Oh, I'd be given my due; a redundancy package and a run-down condo on the lower terraces of Galactic City. The Republic thanks you for your many years of service, and wishes you a peaceful retirement. But their eyes would say different, the bureaucrats who would damn me to a life of nothingness. It's your fault, Wann, yours alone for losing us the kolto. For letting the Selkath find out about our secret Base, and letting the Sith invade the Embassy.
If it hadn't been for those frelling Jedi-!
Real fear had wormed itself deep into my gut during the Sith invasion, and even now – even now, when the enemy was vanquished – I could still feel it, sitting there like a black miasma of vertigo whenever I closed my eyes. A small, cowardly part of me actually desired the quiet, uneventful redundancy.
I'd hated the Sith as much as any Republic man did, but I'd never had to face them. I hadn't wanted to – I knew my own strengths, and they weren't in battle. Manaan was a neutral, peaceful station, and it suited me.
But the Jedi were still here; that strange, quiet cat-girl, the obnoxious human who had come in with Carth, Karon's little Twi'lek apprentice, and the stuck-up Bastila Shan - comatose in one of our bacta tanks. I was sad Karon had died, but I'd lost dozens of men in the assault – and they would all still be alive if the Jedi hadn't come here, flaunting their powers in front of the Sith. I had requested the aid of one master – one! – to investigate Hrakert Station, and ended up with a bleeding squad of apprentices. No wonder the Dark Jedi attacked, they probably couldn't resist the temptation.
And they are still here. What if the Sith strike again? The Selkath can't stop them; they'll just arrest any survivors and blame us once again for provoking an attack!
A beep from my private console dispersed my unwelcome thoughts and, with a grunt, I leaned forward to accept the incoming message. I was in my private quarters; whoever would be contacting me here was bound to be important.
A hologram of General Adashan materialized; I had briefed him mere hours ago, and was surprised to hear from him yet again.
"Commander," he greeted in slurring Basic. A Mon Calamari, and as straight and uptight as the rest of his species.
"Sir," I replied, bowing deferentially. It paid to show respect to one's betters, no matter whether they deserved it. "Has the lockdown been lifted?"
He shook his head solemnly. "No, the Selkath still refuse to allow any Republic ships to land or leave Manaan airspace. I am afraid you are on your own until the Selkath resolve this in their courts."
Great, we'll end up stuck with naught but a useless Selkath arbiter to argue the case for the Republic. Of course, agreements were being made behind the scenes, I had no doubt about that. External communications were probably buzzing with concessions and bribes and promises between the Selkath government and Senate officials. Meanwhile, I was quarantined in the Base, while my scientists had been taken into custody. The Embassy was still locked down – I'd been formally requested to stay put.
I grimaced. "What can I do for you, General?"
The black eyes of the Mon Calamari stared at me unblinkingly. "There is more than just our kolto supply at risk here, Commander. I need you to – promptly - escort the crew of the Ebon Hawk off Manaan."
I stared as surprise assailed me. "I beg your pardon?" I spluttered, unable to contain my surprise. "You want me to what?"
"Get them off this planet, Commander, before they all get embroiled in this messy court case. This could drag on for months, and they are on a critical mission for the good of the Republic. While stationed here, Jedi Bastila Shan is too easy – and too tempting - a target."
I could feel the burn of righteous outrage in my chest. Those Jedi had fuelled the situation here, and now they would get a free ride out? "General, I must protest! The Selkath have forbidden any Republic military or civilians to leave this planet, and their ship is impounded! If I aid them in leaving, it will only make our situation in the courts worse!" Not to mention that if I have to go through this damn farce of a quarantine, then so should they!
Adashan's gaze seemed to bore into me. "Technically, Commander, they are employees of the Jedi Order at this time – even Captain Onasi. The Selkath have not yet placed an embargo on Jedi leaving, and it would be wise for them to disappear while they still can. The Sith Embassy is likely to be shut down and their share of the kolto supply cut off. They will sacrifice nothing should they attack again. We cannot lose Jedi Shan, Commander!"
Despite my mounting irritation, I could grudgingly see that the General made sense. After all, hadn't I just been musing that it would be better for all concerned if those darned Jedi were off Manaan? But I highly doubted this missive originated from the Republic. Yes, the Jedi Order was useful, and their influence and power couldn't be ignored. But I hated when they played the politics game within the ranks of the Fleet. Sometimes, I had the distinct feeling they merely saw us as pieces on a dejarik board.
"Whose orders are these, General?" I questioned, still irritated.
The Mon Calamari stared at me, his bulbous eyes bright and piercing. "Yours, Commander. Get to it at once." He nodded sharply in farewell, and his visage dissipated from the screen. I released the scowl I'd been holding back, and leaned forward to flick on the internal comm.
"Corporal, get Onasi and any of those Jedi in here on the double. And that damn mercenary!"
With that barked order, I turned to my information console and started to see what I could do about the currently impounded Ebon Hawk.
xXx
Juhani
"Psychic exhaustion," the Republic medic murmured next to me. "She is already healing, although I imagine she will be out of action for several weeks. I've seen the effects of Force attacks like this before, but never so severe."
I nodded solemnly, staring at the prone Jedi as she floated in the bacta tank. The medic was a greying Bothan; competent, and quietly efficient. He cleared his throat to speak again, and this time I turned to look at him.
"We will move her out of the tank in an hour," he continued in an apologetic tone. "Unfortunately we have other critical patients, and Jedi Shan is no longer in grave danger."
"But surely the bacta tank will aid her recovery?" I replied, concerned at such an expeditious medical plan.
The man shrugged dismissively. "It is a device for force-feeding nutrients into the body, and accelerating the healing of physical injuries. The only help it will give her is increased rest, and she can do that in a bed, albeit slower."
The door behind the medic swished open, and I swallowed back my reply as I recognized the visitor.
"Carth," I said warmly, stepping forward to meet him. He looked awful; I could make no bones about that. Even for a human he looked sickly and exhausted, deep hollows under his eyes, and dirt and blood etched into his face. A faded webbing of black lines crept up his neck, and I knew he'd faced trials as harsh as ours had been.
"Juhani," he replied in welcome, his eyes flicking over to rest on the bacta tank. "I came as soon as I heard you were here. How is she?"
"Jedi Shan is recovering well," the medic answered for me. "No permanent mental trauma, but don't expect her to be up and about anytime soon. She requires undisturbed rest for the next few weeks. She will sleep a lot, so be prepared."
"I heard what happened," I said quietly. "It is good to see you alive and well."
"More or less," he muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I'm glad you made it back topside. But I don't know how long we'll be kept in the Embassy." His gaze searched the room, a deep frown furrowing into his forehead. The medic had informed me earlier of the attack, and I suspected Carth had been in the thick of it. That the Republic soldiers had been able to withstand such an assault from so many Dark Jedi, even with the aid of Master Karon, impressed me.
Speaking of whom-
"I haven't seen Master Karon about, Carth. Do you know where she is?"
He flinched at the name, and a dark spike of dread stabbed deep inside me. No, it cannot be!
"I'm sorry, Juhani," he muttered, dark eyes moving back to hold mine solemnly. "She didn't survive the assault."
"No," I whispered through numb lips, shaking my head. I was vaguely aware of the medic stepping away to give us some modicum of privacy. "How- how could that happen?"
Dismay and grief swelled within and burst, and I stumbled backwards, noting almost absently that my vision was now blurry. Karon, whose wise words and gentle spirit had given me hope once more, since Revan had left and taken what I'd thought was my only salvation. How was I to face the Jedi Order, now that Karon was gone? Would they all be as accepting as her? Would Quatra?
Carth's head was bowed, and I stared at him dumbly. "I do not understand," I pleaded desperately. "How could she fall, when the soldiers survived? How?"
I heard the human breathe in deeply before answering. "We had many losses, Juhani. But the truth of the matter is, even with Karon's help we were overwhelmed. If Jen had arrived a few minutes earlier..."
Shock slammed a wall of ice into me as I gasped. "Jen?" I cried. "She- she's back? Here?"
Carth closed his eyes. "Why does that woman elicit such a reaction? First Canderous, now you... next I'll see Bastila hopping out of the tank and dancing a jerryjig."
I did not know what to feel. That Revan was back... but why? Did she regret her actions, and come to make amends? Was Carth implying that if not for Revan, they would all now be one with the Force? "Where is she, Carth?"
"Captain Onasi," a voice cut into our conversation, a young Republic soldier who was entering the room. He nodded at me briefly. "Commander Wann requests your presence immediately and that of any Jedi with you."
I raised my head to see Carth looking at me, a frown of puzzlement lining his forehead. "I can't think why he'd want to see you. You, uh, okay to come now?"
A frantic feeling, something like hope, was clawing at my insides. It fought with the tearing grief over Karon. I needed to see Revan first, but the young soldier was staring at us impatiently. The Commander surely won't need me for long, and I do not wish to land Carth into any trouble. I nodded at Carth. "I'll accompany you, and then I shall find Jen."
xXx
Lars Thorstan
My master is dead. I should have felt devastation, bleak misery at the loss of my mentor, a Jedi I both respected and admired. I should have felt something, other than this utter numbness crawling through my veins. My master is dead.
"-leave at once," the Republic Commander was demanding angrily of the Cathar Jedi who looked taken aback, ears flat against her head. I didn't even think she was a fully fledged knight. "All you Jedi lot do is cause trouble – that Bastila in particular!"
I didn't understand why I'd been summoned here. Everything had been a daze and the Selkath wouldn't let me leave – all I wanted was to run back to Karon's ship. She's dead, though. Dead. How had I survived the bloodbath, when Master Karon had not?
"How do you expect us to leave, Commander? Our ship's both damaged and impounded. The Embassy's blockaded. The Selkath aren't really in the mood to listen to the Republic right now." This came from the other Republic officer in the room, Captain Carth Onasi, whose clothes were shredded and splattered with blood. Unlike the Commander, he'd joined in the fighting.
"Apparently, that's been sorted," Commander Wann snarled, and then turned to gesture at me and the other Jedi. "The Jedi don't have any restrictions on them yet. "
He unceremoniously threw a datapad onto the table, and Carth stepped forward to retrieve it. I saw the Cathar Juhani edge closer to read over his shoulder. Her catlike eyes remained impassive, but the Captain's widened with disbelief. "This is from the Jedi Council," Carth said. "They're sending us to Kashyyyk?"
The one named Juhani bit back a gasp but Carth Onasi heard it, turning to face her. "That makes sense to you?"
"I- yes," she said softly. Her eyes gleamed yellow. "If this is an opportunity to leave, I believe we should take it – if it were not for Bastila's condition."
I shouldn't be here. I don't know these people. I took a quiet step closer to the exit, only to scramble backwards as it opened to admit a large warrior who strode in like he owned the place.
"This had better be good," he grunted, flicking a disinterested glance towards Commander Wann. I recognized him - he was the Mandalorian mercenary who'd travelled with the other Jedi. "I have three drinks lined up, and I wasn't quite finished teaching someone a lesson."
I heard Juhani draw in an audible breath. "Jen?" her voice quavered. "What- what did you do, Canderous?"
He barked a laugh. "She's fine. Incapacitated, but that's mostly her own doing. Although I will admit she ain't gonna look pretty for a few days."
"Look," Captain Onasi cut in, leaning forward over the central table to stare intently at Commander Wann. "This might get us out of the Embassy on a technicality, but there's still the matter of the Ebon Hawk."
"That won't be a problem," Commander Wann muttered angrily. "Your Jedi have friends in high places. A team of mechanics have been working on the damage for days; stang, they've even stripped two Republic freighters for replacement parts. As for the case, the Republic's assigned their best arbiters onto it and managed to push it forward for tomorrow morning. The Sith Embassy's been shut down. I highly doubt they'll even realize they have to send a representative to squabble over your precious ship." His voice was rising in tempo with each word; by the end, his jowls were quivering with banked anger. "Looks like you lot get a free ride out of here, while the rest of us stay behind to tidy up this mess."
He was glaring resentfully at us all, myself included. It was becoming obvious Commander Wann thought I was one of them, much to my growing unease. I need to leave. Go back to the Enclave on Coruscant. Danger and destiny clung to them all – even the non-Force sensitives – like an oppressive cloak, and I wanted no part of it. Master. Why did you have to leave me here?
The mercenary shrugged. "Well, this kolto mess is entirely the Republic's fault. You don't have any right to whinge that it blew up in your face."
I could see the Commander's face mottling an ugly red as he looked the larger man up and down. I edged back towards the door again as the Republic officer seemed to think better of starting a fight he'd undoubtedly lose.
"Jenkins! Dalora!" he snapped, gesturing towards two young solders stationed at the rear of the room. "Escort the crew of the Ebon Hawk to the Embassy's exit. They will be residing in their ship until they have clearance to leave Manaan."
Even I could see that the green Republic grunts were uncomfortable. One shuffled his feet, refusing eye contact, while the other took a tentative step forward. Canderous bared his teeth in a feral grin. He's the unarmed one, though.
"But- Bastila is not well-" the Cathar protested quietly, before Commander Wann interrupted her.
"I'll have her transferred this afternoon. Just get out of my embassy!"
In a whirlwind of activity, I dazedly found myself outside the opulent building between a group of Selkath guards and the crew of the Ebon Hawk. The mercenary Canderous disappeared briefly, before returning with a groaning human woman slung over his shoulder. She reeked like a cantina's opening night. Captain Onasi shook his head in weary despair as Canderous reappeared, and I wondered who the dishevelled human was. Surprisingly, the Selkath had let her, as well as the rest of us, past without anything more than a cursory once over. The Republic soldiers escorting us, on the other hand, had been clinically turned back.
I don't think anyone's realized I'm tagging along. Everything had been numb since the battle. I'd barely had time to breathe. The shuttle. I can get to Master Karon's shuttle now, and leave. No one will notice.
I'd always been quiet, overlooked. I spotted the Cathar brushing back the hair on the drunk woman's face, murmuring something quietly before the mercenary took off at a brisk walk.
I stepped to the side. There was an alley between the Embassy's eastern wall and the neighbouring commercial sector that screamed refuge, peace, safety from these dangerous vigilantes. Before I knew it, I was running.
As I turned the corner, I thought I heard the Captain exclaim in surprise, and the Cathar call out, "Wait! Was that Master Karon's apprentice?"
xXx
Kylah Aramai
Think, Kylah, think! I desperately required a plan. Stars twinkled through the cockpit window as the shuttle eased towards Rii'shn. I'd escaped Manaan so far, but evading my master wouldn't be so easy.
A shudder trembled through me and I had to focus on slowing my traitorous heart. I'd almost had the real prize, even better than bratty Shan, but then sheer, shattering power erupted from her-
Revan might be a broken shell, but I'd underestimated her. And whatever the precious Order had done to her was close to disintegrating her mind. And wouldn't that be a sight to see. Oh, how sweet it would have been to truss her up and deliver her to Malak!
But I had nothing. And cold tendrils of icy fear were creeping insidiously through my mind. Rage. Pain. Not fear! I dug my nails deep into my hands as a focus, deep enough to draw blood. I will not be weak. I will find a way out of this!
I needed a plan. Malak enjoyed me, but he wouldn't hesitate to kill me – slowly – for my failure to capture Bastila. And if he ever learned I'd had Revan in my grasp then I'd be better off jumping into a sarlacc pit. I couldn't go back to him just yet. If I wanted to displace Bandon – and I would, one day, by the stars – then I'd have to show Malak how worthy I was.
I need a place to regroup. Away from Malak. A place to strengthen my grasp on the Dark Side, and figure out my next move.
Korriban. The idea hit with shattering clarity. What better sanctuary for a Dark Jedi than a Sith Academy? I'd never visited there but I'd heard Bandon brag enough times about beating up on the little dark younglings. He always did enjoy pulling legs off insects. And surely, Malak would be otherwise engaged with the GenoHaradan's machinations, and Bandon's mission to Kashyyyk, to think of looking for me on Korriban-
Well. I had four hours before I landed on Rii'shn; from there, I could acquire more appropriate transport. To Korriban it is. Surely I can make myself scarce. Once there, I'll devise a plan to capture that snooty Padawan. Revan, on the other hand, I might just avoid.
At least I'd sorted out Karon Enova.
My eyes closed, and I could feel my lips stretch in a bloodless smile. At least there was that.
xXx
Zaalbar
The shine of the pit lane holoscreen bit accusingly into my vision; I could see the two swoop bikes were neck and neck as they coasted over the choppy Manaan waters. How could I let her do this? That other rider almost knocked her off a second ago!
But Mission rarely listened to me, and refused to be swayed by common sense. She'd acquired a few wins, enough to glean the interest of the mercenary backers who ran this dangerous sport. After yesterday's no show – all races had been cancelled – Mission was all the more hungry to risk her life once again.
What was I thinking? She is as eager as a pup and twice as blind to the danger. The determination to carry her bodily away from this place grew; she might rail against me for it, but it was in her best interests. I did not believe I would cope with the guilt if something happened to her.
The two bikes split away from each other and simultaneously crested separate jumps. I wasn't sure which one housed Mission anymore, and apprehension kicked in my gut. The crowd watching the screen gasped as one bike sailed into the air, landing sideways into the water and spinning, before righting itself and accelerating after the other.
Let Mission be safe, I prayed silently. And- and let her not win. It seemed a betrayal, hoping for that, but the Sector Champion had challenged the winner of this bout, and he was reputed to be both corrupt and treacherous on the track.
I could feel a growl starting in my throat. He was a Gamorrean, and there was something rabid about that species; all they cared for was corruption and greed and-
"Zaalbar," a quiet voice spoke behind me, barely audible over the hum of the swoop fans.
I turned, my bleak thoughts splintering into non-existence as I recognized the human female addressing me.
"(Jen!)" I cried, relief and hope and anger all at once rising to the surface. I could hear Mission's bucket droid beeping in welcome next to me. "(You're back!)"
I took an involuntary step forward as if to embrace her, and then remembered exactly how she left. She sighed heavily, her eyes dropping closed.
"I- I came to talk to you both. To apologise."
I looked at Jen Sahara in silence; she was staring down, shoulders hunched in what seemed to be shame. That she regretted her actions I had no doubt, but the potential consequences of what she had done were hard to swallow. I took some time to think over an appropriate response.
"(I have never understood this concept of apology)," I said finally. "(In my culture, it is our actions that show what we feel, not our words)."
At that, her head jerked back up, green eyes flashing with something akin to determination. She pursed her lips. "I respect that Zaalbar, and you're right – but still. I also need to say the words."
"The winner is the Flying Starscream!" a synthesized voice cut through the air. "With a respectable time of 121.43 seconds, beating Bek from Taris by a slim 0.85 seconds!"
"(Mission. She lost)." I was both gratified and surprised to hear her winning streak come to an end. I had already been approached by two agents wanting to sign Mission onto their books. If Mission knew that I had scared them off, I did not think I believe I would hear the end of it. And what now, that Jen Sahara has returned? Where will fate lead us now?
I glanced sideways at her, for the first time noticing just how awful she looked, even for a human. Dark purple blossomed over a puffy eye and swollen cheekbone, and her clothes were crusted with blood. My nose wrinkled. She smelt like stale alcohol and death.
Jen Sahara was nothing if not observant; noticing my appraisal, she looked down at herself and sighed. "I may have had too many drinks yesterday. I would have freshened up first in the 'Hawk, but Carth refused to wait. He said he tried to find you yesterday after we left the Embassy…" she trailed off, looking behind her into the mechanic's bay. I followed her gaze and located Carth Onasi, arms folded, leaning casually against the pit wall with an intense gaze focused solely on us. On Jen.
"(There was no swoop racing yesterday)," I explained. It had been scheduled, but an attack at one of the embassies shut down the entertainment quadrant. It puzzled me greatly; I had thought Manaan had little overt violence.
A high whine of a swoop engine thrummed closer; the swoops were coming in. I spotted Mission's purple and green machine, remarkably unharmed, glide into the landing bay. My young cub must have seen Carth, for she launched herself recklessly off the swoop and ran towards him, away from us. I hastened to follow, assuming Jen would do the same.
"Carth!" I heard Mission call out in excitement, and the Republic officer soon had his arms full of exuberant Twi'lek. She had always been effusive with her affection, but I hadn't realized she'd thought so much of the human Captain. Judging by the surprise on his face, neither had he.
"Mission, I, uh, it's good to see you." His arms hesitantly returned her embrace. "I wish you hadn't left. We've come to see if you want to join us again."
Mission took a jerky step back before unclasping her modified helmet and dropping it gracelessly to the ground. I groaned as it landed with a sharp thunk, and stepped forward to retrieve it. Mission did not look after her equipment well.
"Uh uh," she shook her head, eyes pinching in annoyance. "No way. I mean, it's great to see you an' all, but I sure ain't gonna stick around after the way Jen left."
Carth coughed uncomfortably, and looked over to us. "Yeah. Jen. About that-"
"Mission." Jen's voice, quiet but resolute, came from behind me. Mission whirled around, paling in surprise. Her lekku wrapped defensively around her neck. I wanted to rail at Jen Sahara for hurting Mission this way. My young friend had not yet reconciled to the true character of her sibling, and nightmares of Taris still haunted her sleep. Jen's betrayal had cut deep, being so wholly unexpected.
"I can't believe this!" Mission spat out at last. Her face flushed a dark purple, her eyes flashed darker still. "You've got some gall, coming back here after what you did! What sort of coreslime space tramp does that to her friends? You could have killed us!"
Jen's voice was low and deadly serious as she answered. "It was wrong of me – more than wrong – but HK was certain he could disable the ship without loss of life."
"You trusted our lives to a homicidal bucket of bolts," Carth cut in derisively.
"You blew up our ship! While we were on it!" Mission railed on, and to my dismay I saw her eyes fill with angry tears. I stepped forward to lay a comforting hand on my young friend, and felt her shake underneath me. "There ain't no way you coulda known we would be okay!"
Carth Onasi looked worriedly around, and I noticed we were attracting attention from the humanoid mechanics. I had taken to waiting for Mission in the pit lane, but it was not a private place by any means.
"I'm sorry," Jen said simply. "If I could take it back now, I would. But at the time, all I knew was that I needed to escape. To leave before we landed."
It was sincere and heartfelt, but I could not understand the logic behind it. To take such risks with the lives of others was not the act of the honourable warrior I had thought she was. Mission seemed to agree, for she sighed brokenly and leaned against me, burying her face against my chest.
Her next words were muffled. "Y'think we would have stood in your way, if you wanted to leave? Sheesh, Jen, you think we could have stood in your way?"
"Bastila could have, and would. And I- I was afraid." Jen's eyes had fallen closed, and I could see her fists clenched tight against her side. Her face looked worse without the sharp contrast of her eyes; mottled swelling left a patchwork of bruises along the left side of her face. "That transmission you found on the Ebon Hawk, the night before we reached Manaan. It was about me."
"What transmission?" Carth cut in, frowning.
"We found a message Bastila sent, a plea for help from that Jedi Master who turned up," Mission answered, before turning back to Jen. "But you said it was about Juhani."
Jen tilted her head, looking at Mission once more. "I was dissembling. I mean, the Order will be overjoyed she's denounced the Dark Side, but that's not why Bastila sent the message. It's got to do with me, and this damn secret mission they sent us on. I'd only agreed to go to Manaan because she vowed there were no masters here."
"And then she sent for one," Mission said slowly.
"Yeah." Jen sighed heavily. "Not that I blame her, now."
"You shouldn't," Carth snapped. "For all Bastila's experience and power, she's still a Padawan. And you- you're- you're a- blast it, I don't even know what you are, Jen, but sending you to the Jedi Masters is the smartest thing Bastila's done since she boarded the Endar Spire."
"(Maybe we should talk elsewhere)," I interrupted uncomfortably. The swoop rider Mission had competed against was eavesdropping openly, and the two mechanics working on his bike were suspiciously frozen. "(This is not a good place for this sort of conversation)."
Mission followed my gaze and scowled angrily at the racer.
"What are you staring at, chuba-face?" she snapped.
The Rodian threw his hands up in tacit surrender and turned away, but I saw his ears twitch. "(We should leave this place,)" I added.
Jen was nodding brusquely in agreement. "Zaalbar's right. The crew's back on the Ebon Hawk, and I- I guess I need to talk to everyone before we leave."
"Leave?" Mission asked.
"We're getting out of Manaan while we still can," Carth explained. "The Selkath have stopped all Republic and Sith traffic, but Wann's got us out on a technicality. I don't think the credit rests solely with him, but he believes we'll have clearance to leave in a few hours."
Mission folded her arms, a recalcitrant look on her face. "I'll hear what y'all have to say. Doesn't mean I'll go with you though." She looked over at Carth, and nudged him. "Did ya see me race though?"
I missed the Republic pilot's reply as Jen turned in my direction, staring at me solemnly. I had to stay with Jen, I had no choice. And despite Mission's belligerence, I knew my young friend wanted to forgive her. So do I.
Carth and Mission started meandering through the pit lane, and the mechanics who had been covertly observing us resumed normal activity. Jen and I followed behind. The swoop racer with the foolish Starscream name glanced over his shoulder at us again; I stared at him pointedly until he turned away. He could have given Mission more space on the track, and I would have liked to tell him so.
"I'd release you from the life-debt, if I could," Jen was muttering. "I think it would be safer here for you and Mission, but Carth has some borked idea that'd be leaving her to the mercy of the streets." Her eyes slid back to me. "He underestimates you, I think."
"(You dishonour my life-debt by leaving without me. I had thought you understood, Jen Sahara)." If she had, she would not have run.
The human did not reply, and I had no more words to say. She would leave, and I would follow, and help her act with greater honour than she had thus far. I swear it.
xXx
Spymaster Gaalin
I perused through the report again, still disbelieving, still shaking my head in refusal to accept the facts. The agent who'd handed me the encrypted datapad had gulped and scarpered – obviously he'd had some inkling to its contents, I must look into that later – and now I knew why.
Eridius was going to be pissed.
Twenty-three agents had been dispatched to lay a trap that should have destroyed some of the most powerful Jedi in the galaxy, and this nobody Force-sensitive not only survived, but slaughtered the lot of them.
Including our only two Dashade agents. I winced irritably. It had taken years to locate and recruit those Force-resistant agents; it would not be an easy task to replace them.
How had this happened? The ambush had been a hurried affair; Hulas had been taken by surprise with the arrival of Jen Sahara and her immediate demands to leave Manaan. He worried that we wouldn't easily have another chance to eliminate her. Spymaster Dallas had dispatched all the nearby agents we could muster, setting it up as an Exchange ambush to cover our tracks - I'd thought the manpower overly excessive, but Dallas had been rightfully concerned over the high price the Sith had so eagerly parted with to dispose of her.
My eyes closed in dismay. Excessive. As it turns out, I was excessively wrong. What sort of Force-sensitive could slither their way out of the quagmire on Rii'shn, and then jettison back to Manaan in a stolen Exchange vessel?
Resolution soon overcame my despair; I wasn't one to wallow in self-pity, even after disastrous mistakes. I sighed heavily, opened my eyes, and pulled the datapad back, searching through the report contents once more.
The droid aided her, I realized, reading the summary of the holo-footage before the cameras had been disabled. What an unusual combat droid. Together, the two of them created the sort of conspicuous carnage we try to avoid.
There were too many unknowns here, and it irritated me to no end. Why was Darth Malak after this incredibly dangerous and strangely unknown Force user? Prolonged use of Dark Force powers were strongly linked with insanity, and Darth Malak's actions of late had certainly echoed that possibility. Bombing Taris, attacking Dantooine… that sort of widespread slaughter was guaranteed to turn otherwise neutral factions against the Sith. And yet the overwhelming size of the Sith armada - if recent reports were to be believed - suggested that Malak was powerful enough to start wildly attacking civilian targets without fearing repercussion. The Republic counter-attacks thus far have certainly been ineffectual.
I grunted in annoyance, leaning back in the unyielding office chair. I'd have to call in some data analysts, I realized peevishly. There were too many things I was missing lately, and the GenoHaradan had a lot to lose if the Republic did not prevail… and if they did not, there were other moves we could make to ingratiate ourselves to the Sith.
I shoved the datapad to the side of the polished poraclay table, and pressed a button on the inset communication panel.
"Send me the two best analysts onsite," I demanded as the bored receptionist answered my call. "Ajax, if he's available. Oh, and get them to bring their own chairs." I disconnected the call, surveying my clinically empty office. I preferred to work in a cold, uninviting room bereft of any personal treasures; others were less likely to dawdle here, and it helped me keep focused on my work.
With determination, I forced my mind back to the issue at hand. An ambush had been the wrong way of targeting this Jen Sahara. After all, a disruptor rifle can quickly end any Jedi or Sith, provided you catch them unawares. Yet I wasn't willing to risk any more of my agents, nor did I think Eridius would let me without further information.
I'll open her contract up to the freelance assassins, and flag her as highly dangerous. The freelancers had autonomy of a sort within our rank, but were not as highly trained, and therefore generally less effective. There were a lot of them, though, spread throughout the galaxy. And while they clamour for the glory, I'll work on matching Jen Sahara to another identity. There must be more to her than we've found so far. The droid, too, I should search for the droid.
And who knew? The freelancers might get lucky.
xXx
Jen Sahara
My head throbbed dully, my body ached, and everyone was staring at me in expectation. Mission's lips were pursed in a mulish pout, her arms folded, and a foot tapped impatiently. Zaalbar stood still by her side, impassive.
"Where's Bastila?" the Twi'lek demanded.
We'd entered the Ebon Hawk minutes ago, intercepting Canderous who'd been carrying in recently purchased weapons, by the looks. Juhani had rushed into the central common room when she'd heard us arrive.
"She's in the med-bay, recuperating from injuries," Juhani answered Mission in a soft tone. Her eyes were on me though, intense and dark with emotion that was less fury than I deserved. I'd woken on the Ebon Hawk some hours earlier, with a wicked hangover and no recollection of just how I'd left the Republic Embassy. I'd barely been able to keep up with Carth when he went running off to retrieve Mission.
"You missed out on all the fun, kid," Canderous interjected. He was sitting by a side table, surrounded by guns and mods and tools. Feet propped up on a bench, he was the only one who looked at ease. He caught my eye and smirked. Suddenly, I thought I could guess how I'd ended up here. "Although I hear you were having fun of your own."
"Conjecture: Jen Sahara had the most fun. I was keeping count."
All eyes swivelled to the red droid. He'd been waiting outside the Ebon Hawk when I returned, negotiating with a uniformed Selkath. The Ebon Hawk was cleared for take-off, but before they would transmit our launch codes there was the minor matter of outstanding docking frees. HK-47 had somehow persuaded them to be waived. After all, the Selkath had docked the ship, not us.
I shivered. The droid was scarily competent, and showed more initiative that should have been possible. "HK, power down," I ordered. I heard the Mandalorian snort.
"Statement: As you desire, master. Signing off." The glowing red eyes dimmed, and then died.
"That droid needs to go," Carth said flatly, entering the room. Somehow, he'd found another ghastly flight jacket to wear, lime green this time. A Republic uniform would have looked better on him. He threw a disapproving glare at Canderous' upraised feet, before staring at me, like the others. "I've just received clearance for takeoff. There's an hour wait, so that's how long you have to convince Mission to come with us."
I glanced back at the sulking Twi'lek girl. Convincing her is child's play; regaining her trust is another matter. I felt like I should know the words to quiet them all, to make them follow and obey, and it sickened me. My mouth was dry and my stomach heaving, and it wasn't just a hangover. No mind tricks. This is a frelling mess. It would be better if Mission stayed behind on Manaan.
"Look," I said finally. "I'm sorry, and I mean it. But Zaalbar was right when he said actions are what matter, not words. And I don't trust myself, so I sure as stars can't expect any of you to trust me. I came back to get some answers from Bastila and her master, but I came back too late." My words came out jumbled, rambling, and I wondered if I made sense to anyone there.
Mission snorted. "That's what I don't understand. Why's Bastila hurt? Where's that Jedi Master? And why are y'all here, instead of with the Republic?"
"There was an… incident at the Embassy involving the Sith," Juhani said delicately.
"By incident, she means a full-scale attack," I added, my voice dry.
"Whoa," Mission's eyes widened. "On Manaan? Geez, I thought this place was meant to be safe!"
"(No place is safe from the Sith,)" Zaalbar howled solemnly.
"We're getting off Manaan while we can," Carth added. "The Selkath have stopped all Republic and Sith traffic, the embargo is likely to last weeks from what I know of their bureaucratic legal system. We've clearance to leave as technically, we're employed by the Jedi Order, but there's some concern the Selkath could extend matters to include the Jedi. Hence our haste to depart."
"So what's the plan then? More ruin hunting?" Mission asked.
Carth tilted his head towards the Cathar. "We're going to Kashyyyk, apparently. Juhani might be able to shed some light on the why."
"(What?)" Zaalbar roared, his voice startlingly loud. Mission and Juhani both visibly jumped. "(No, Jen Sahara, you cannot do that to me!)"
I blinked, startled. Kashyyyk? The Wookiee homeworld? The only thing more puzzling about the Jedi sending us there was Zaalbar's reaction. He was visibly upset.
"Okay, why?" I demanded. "I expected Coruscant, or one of the other Core worlds – but Kashyyyk?" I hadn't any plans beyond coming back to face Karon and Bastila. With the former dead and the latter comatose, I suddenly realized I had no idea what to do next. I'm as directionless as space junk, I thought in disgust. Sun and stars, Bastila, I can't believe I actually desire you awake!
"Master Vrook is meeting us there. He was on his way to Manaan, I understand, but has diverted his route to meet us on Kashyyyk instead," Juhani explained. Her gaze was unfathomable, and still fixed intently on me. "I understood from Bastila that this was one of the planets we were meant to visit from the start."
"More Force relics to stop Darth Malak?" Carth asked.
The Cathar was nodding. "Yes. There are two more Star Maps to discover; on Kashyyyk and Korriban."
"Star Maps? What sort of ruin is that?" Mission asked curiously.
Sweat broke out on my face, and all at once my heart pounded ferociously. Star Maps. The words meant something to me, something important. Where had I heard it before? Bastila had only ever said we were looking at ruins. She's been so reticent with everyone. But on Tatooine, I wasn't with her. She didn't need me for whatever she found. She didn't need Jen Sahara. I'd known it was a cover story, I'd known, but why was Jen Sahara in my head? Why was Darth Revan?
"That glowing thing we found on Tatooine. And at the bottom of the ocean," Canderous grunted, shifting his feet off the bench. He was wearing his customary bored expression, but his gaze was intent. There was more to Canderous than he let on. "It must be pretty powerful for the Jedi to go to all this trouble."
"It's a navigational map," I muttered through numb lips. Back on Tatooine, I'd had a vision. Street Kid found one in a krayt dragon's cave. "It points to something."
Someone squeezed my hands tight; I blinked, and the Cathar was crouching in front of me. "Are you okay?" she murmured softly, her gaze roving over my face. "What are you seeing, Jen Sahara?"
"Nothing," I muttered in return. "What are these maps, Juhani? What do they point to?"
Juhani let my hands go and rocked back on her heels. "I do not know. I am not sure that Bastila does, either, but she is convinced it will aid us against Darth Malak. And so are the masters."
Frelling fantastic. This secrecy has got to end. "So, Kashyyyk huh?" I said finally, and looked over the others, gauging their agreement. The Wookiee was shaking his head in refusal.
"(You mentioned Korriban also,)" he interjected, almost angrily. "(We could go there instead, we may find everything your Jedi need without going to Kashyyyk.)" Zaalbar held his arms stiffly at his sides, towering over Mission as he stood in the corner of the room. He's an exile of some sort. Why else would a Wookiee resist returning home?
"I'm not sure Korriban is a good idea, Zaalbar," I replied slowly. "And I promised myself I wouldn't run anymore. If a Jedi Master awaits me on Kashyyyk, then I'll go there. It's just-" I looked back to Juhani, frowning in puzzlement. "How do we know they're on Kashyyyk?"
"They sent us an encrypted message through Republic channels," Carth answered that, leaning against the lockers. The tacky jacket he wore clashed terribly against the dull durasteel. "I guess with Bastila out and the ship impounded, it was the only way to contact us." He hadn't stopped staring at me since I'd returned to Manaan. He was justifiably angry, but now and then his gaze would soften with something like empathy that made me want to curl up and hide in a dark corner. I can't think about Deralia, and Jen and Revan. I don't want to think about that.
His words sunk in and my mind raced. "Republic channels," I said slowly, "The Sith will know our destination, then."
"Excuse me?" Carth interjected in protest as Canderous barked a laugh.
"Come on, flyboy." I sent him what I hoped was a quelling look. "You can encode the message all you like. People are still going to hack it if it's come through the Republic comms." I tapped my fingers absently against my thigh; the clothes were crusted with dirt and blood. I really needed to clean up. "No one's going to expect us to go to Korriban first."
"Why would we go to Korriban, when we're expected on Kashyyyk?" Carth said flatly, a warning note entering his tone.
"I'm assuming we need to visit all the maps?" I queried Juhani; at her nod, I continued. "And Nord attacked Bastila on Tatooine. Dark Jedi went after her on Manaan. Malak must know what we're after. If there's Jedi enroute to Kashyyyk, surely they'll be looking for the Map there. We could go after the other one in stealth."
"Isn't that a Sith planet? After all that's happened, are you nuts?" Carth exclaimed, his voice twisting in incredulity.
"Calm down before you have kath pups," I grinned. Carth's eyes had widened comically; I'd forgotten how fun it was to rile the Republic officer up. Serious, Jen, I admonished myself. This is a serious discussion. "Look, all I'm saying is that maybe we should talk it through before jumping to some Jedi Master's whim."
"Are you sure you are not running again, Jen Sahara?" Juhani asked softly. Canderous dropped the mini-blaster he'd been modifying with an audible thud, and looked over at me measuringly. I could see he was interested in my response. I pushed back a scowl of irritation. Juhani… all of them, had more than enough reason to doubt me.
"No," I forced out. "I know why Bastila sent for that master." I closed my eyes. "For Master Karon. If I hadn't run when I did, I might understand more. Regardless, I can see that I can't avoid them. But if it's our quest to find these sodding maps, then I think we should do Sith-infested planet first. I'd rather infiltrate when they're not expecting me."
"The Dark Side is strong there," Juhani whispered. Her tawny eyes were wide and glistening. "Jen, the lure of it will always be my strongest foe. I do not believe Korriban is a wise choice… for me or you. And should this not be Bastila's decision? She would choose Kashyyyk, I think."
"Hey, Bastila doesn't make my choices," Mission interjected angrily. "And if I decide to tag along, then there ain't no way she's gonna boss me around!"
"Mission, let's not all get tied up in who is leader here," Carth admonished. "After everything that's happened, I'd like to think we're all in this together. But Korriban is a terrible idea. And if Bastila were awake, you know she'd be saying that!"
"We need to know more about these Maps before we can make an informed decision," I said in my most decisive tone, and abruptly stood. "Let's see if we can wake the princess up before we leave Manaan."
xXx
Bastila Shan
…
The bridge of the flagship was deserted and dark bar the eerie green glow of navigational consoles. The Sith had evacuated, as expected, and left an empty ghost ship populated with ominous shadows. And my greatest challenge yet.
I felt the comforting presence of Masters Kester and Jai'lel flanking me. I wasn't meant to be here, a Padawan whose talents most assuredly did not lay in combat, but surprise was of the essence. When we learned of the trap Darth Malak set for his master, we had to grasp our opportunity – and us three were coincidentally nearby.
The cloaked figure at the head of the room was facing us, immobile, as we approached. Darth Revan. The Sith Lord. I swallowed past my fear. If we had a chance to stop this senseless slaughter, then the price of my life was not too steep an exchange.
Darth Revan stayed still, waiting for us, and as we closed twin bars of blood red appeared in her hands. They illuminated ominously against a steel mask and midnight robes.
"Jedi," the dark lord said softly. Her voice was gravelly; throaty and bitter. It sounded nothing like it had, once. "Sneaking onboard my flagship to attack me? Tut tut. Isn't that against some Jedi code?"
"You cannot win, Revan." The words slipped out against my volition.
"Why, it's young Bastila Shan," she mocked. She took a step, and motioned me forward with a 'saber. "Come, then."
"I'm waiting for you, Bastila."
Bastila?
…
My eyes fluttered open as sluggish awareness woke within my mind. I saw a face leaning over me, fuzzy at first, before my vision sharpened.
There was no mask this time, but I knew her. A patchwork of purple and yellow, one eye half-closed against swollen flesh.
"I'm waiting for you, Bastila," she sighed.
I screamed.
xXx
I knew nothing, for a time. My sense of being was scattered, dissolute. Occasionally I felt soft hands on me, urging warm liquid down my throat, murmuring platitudes. I would open eyes and see a feline face I thought I should know. A deep mental lassitude weighed heavily on me. I was content to just be.
"-better you stay away, after last time-"
"-can't reach her through the bond-"
"-sheesh, why won't she say anything?-"
"-the way I see it, we all got a vote here. I was paid to take her topside, and now we're in the skies. From here, I'm a lot more interested in going to a planet that will reap me a job, rather than a tree-infested wild. Unless you plan to pay me-"
"(I cannot go to Kashyyyk. Mission, Jen, surely you will agree that we do not have to-)"
"-we must make a call, Onasi, we can't wait much longer-"
"-that homicidal droid does not get a vote!-"
"-Stars, Bastila, would you just wake up?-"
xXx
"Bastila, can you hear me?"
The words edged through my consciousness, but this time I understood them. Slowly, my gummy eyelids unstuck and bright light stabbed daggers into my vision. I winced and squeezed them shut.
"Bastila?"
"Juhani," I croaked. My lips were dry and cracked.
"Here." A soft voice, warm skin against my cheek, the cool press of ferraglass against my lips. I swallowed gratefully.
"Thank you," I whispered. Memories came, a trickle followed by a gushing torrent. The ocean. The firaxans. The ancient entity shattering my mind. I gasped.
"Shhh, it's okay," Juhani was murmuring, "You are safe, Bastila, we are all safe."
I could hear my breathing, fast and panicked, and blood pounded against my eardrums. But there was no threatening psychic presence stabbing at my very being until I splintered into nothingness. Whatever that had been, it was not here.
With forced determination, I slowed my breathing. I realized my eyes were still squeezed shut. Juhani's next to me. That means-
"The Star Map," I whispered. "Did you find it, Juhani?"
There was a heavy pause. Perhaps because so much weighed on her answer, the silence seemed longer than it actually was. I tentatively opened my eyes once more.
I wasn't in Hrakert Station.
"Where am I?" I asked with a touch of asperity. I moved to sit up but my body refused to obey. Juhani placed a cautionary hand on my shoulder.
"Bastila, please, take it slow. This is the first time you have returned to full consciousness in almost a week."
"A week," I said blankly. A week? I was in a tiny triangular room with a low ceiling and shelves sparsely stocked with stims, patches and fluids. It was as close a medbay as a swoop was to a starship.
With sudden clarity I knew the place. "I'm on the Ebon Hawk. Juhani, what am I doing on the Ebon Hawk? Where is Master Karon?"
"Please, Bastila, a lot has happened. I fear to tell you everything..." The Cathar trailed off into silence. My gaze returned to her; she was solemn, unblinking. I could sense her concern, and I allowed my mind to open. Where is Master Karon? Surely I should be able to sense her nearby-
Close, very close, too close, I became aware of another presence in my mind. It coiled and unfurled at my awareness.
Bastila? Can you hear me?
Revan is here. The Force was with me; weak and unsteady, but enough to indicate the proximity of a powerful Force user. Revan is here on this ship with me. "Where is Master Karon?" I demanded again, feeling the heat of apprehensive anger bud to life. I could not face Revan alone, not in this state, not on this ship.
"There was a Sith attack on Manaan," Juhani whispered. Her eyes glistened with melancholy. "Karon has joined the Force."
Horror pounded through me. No! No! Not Karon! A Sith Attack.
Revan had left Manaan. But she was back, here, and Karon was dead. Killed by a Sith. And Revan was back.
All went white.
xXx
Snippets of a conversation slowly resolved into meaning.
"I do not know anymore what I am strong enough for. I did not agree with this decision, and yet… yet it feels like a test I must take, to prove I am worthy of being a Jedi once more."
A snort, dismissive and abrupt. "You put too much pressure on yourself, Juhani. I don't think you were ever as dark as you believed yourself to be."
"Well, I thank you for that. If it were not for you, I would still be lost in the dunes of Tatooine. But I worry… I worry that I may slide back. That we both may be tempted down a dark path from which we cannot return."
My eyes stayed closed, and I kept my breathing even. I heard a rustle of someone moving.
"Yeah, me too. I need Bastila… stars, I want Bastila to wake up. I could actually do with her guidance, and I can't believe I'm saying that but…"
The words trailed away, and I could barely make sense of them. Revan is here, in this room with me. And wishes my guidance?
"The bond between you both… this may aid you when we land." Juhani's voice was low and hopeful. "I will aid you too, Jen Sahara. I do not know what is in store for us, but I will trust in the Force to help me through whatever is to come."
Memory returned. Master Karon is dead. And yet, Revan wanted my guidance, and did not sound like a Sith. It was all too much; my precarious grasp on consciousness slipped and I faded once more into nothingness.
xXx
