—/ Chapter 4 /—
Lwhekk - Mount Skar'lak
[Entering Lwhekk's orbit, Arran punched in the coordinates from the ship's mainframe. It led him to a large Volcano. Arran searched the volcano for any sign of settlement or entrance. He could feel something powerful through the Force. Something was here, he was sure of it. Lowering the ship closer to the ground, Arran did one more pass around the volcano, stopping at an opening. There was a stone structure built into the side of the volcano, concealed by the overgrowth of the flora. Arran landed the ship with a harsh thud, not even bothering to let out the landing gear. The loading ramp lowered and Arran stepped out. Taking his lightsaber into his hand and keeping it tightly gripped at his side, he observed the area around him before making his way to the stone structure.
Arran cautiously walked up the stone steps, but did so with pride and determination. He was not about to cower. He now felt a stronger feeling than ever that Liz was here, and he was ready to save her. Her presence was no longer masked, but seeking him out. Arran grabbed hold of her presence through the Force and would not let go. He would not lose sight of her again. As he reached the top of the steps, the doors opened. Two lines were formed of Sith soldiers, hooded and clad in armor and masks. They walked toward Arran. In the middle of them was Liz Anean, Arran's wife. She was clad in rags with a restraint placed on her wrists. She looked malnourished and beaten to the face. Her head was bowed in defeat, her brown hair kept in a crude bun with strands coming down her face. When she rose her head and Arran's eyes with with hers, he saw sadness.
His lightsaber ignited, Arran stood before the Sith, staring at them behind dark eyes. The Sith stood unwavered in unison. As a collective, they activated their lightsabers, and took turns speaking.]
Sith Soldier 1: We have been expecting you.
Sith Soldier 2: We thought you'd have come sooner.
Sith Soldier 3: We welcome you to our home.
Sith Soldier 4: We will end your superfluous reign.
[Arran could feel the anger swelling inside of him. Ten soldiers stood between him and his wife's freedom. Everything led up to this point, he wasn't going to show any mercy.
Arran said nothing. He was too angry—instead he readied his lightsaber as the four Sith charged him at the same time. These Sith were different—they were coordinated. Attacking from all directions, he was forced to dodge one strike after another. Arran parried two attacks, one from his front and another from his right before having to dodge a flurry of strikes from his left. He dove to his right before turning ninety degrees to his left to get a view of all of them. No such luck, there was always two Sith just out of his line of vision ensuring that his attention was divided. He had the Force, yes—but his lightsaber was just one against four. He would have to think differently in this fight if he was to come out of this. He quickly eyed the other six who were guarding Liz. Their lightsabers calmly at their sides, their focus on Arran. This made the ex-Sith smirk and feel a sense of pride—he was their greatest threat, and even the six watchmen knew the four attacking him might not be enough to stop him.
Four red blades came at Arran from different directions, causing him to parry in a quick swirl. Arran put strength behind his parrying, knocking the red blades around if not held on tightly. One blade was knocked to the side, and Arran found his opening. He barged the Sith with his shoulder, wrapped his arm around his neck, and felt a bone snap under his tricep. The Sith body fell limp, and Arran threw the dead weight towards the others.
Entering a Juyo lightsaber stance, Arran used his aggression as a means of offense. Arran used precise, strong swings to overwhelm his opponents. The other two Sith came running to join the fight, but Arran had already knocked the Sith in the head with his elbow and dug his blade deep into his chest. He didn't let out a scream, his body merely went into a shock and fell over.
The other two Sith had attacked in perfect unison, one lunging and the other thrusting downward. Arran unleashed a heavy swing and let his lightsaber fly freely from his hand, impaling one Sith in the neck. The Sith fell to his knees, the blade still ignited and humming. Arran let out a heavy kick into the midsection of the last Sith, who stumbled backwards. Arran let out a punch to the face, hearing the Sith's flesh meet the mask. Gripping the Sith around the neck, he slammed him on the ground repeatedly until he felt the life drain away from the body. Arran stood and walked over to the kneeling Sith and yanked his embedded lightsaber out, the Sith body is came from falling flat on the ground.
Raising the red lightsaber up to his face, Arran walked toward the six remaining Sith. He was only getting warmed up. The six Sith rose their blades to their sides and charged Arran, one of them jumping into the air with their lightsaber aimed at Arran's head. Arran lifted a hand and kept the airborne Sith suspended in the air. Arran let a grin develop on his face as he retracted his hand and the Sith's limbs shot away from its body in a bloodied mess. The five Sith stumbled back and dropped their lightsabers, grabbing at their heads. Arran took note of this particular development but used it to his advantage. He charged forward and slew each of the disArranged Sith one by one. Arran turned off his blade as the last head roll on the stone floor. He walked over to Liz, outstretched his hand, and the restraint keeping her prisoner fell.
Liz smiled and opened her mouth to speak, but Arran's lips were already on hers. He held that position for several moments as he opened up his arms and held her in a full embrace.
He rested his chin on top of Liz's head, allowing a small smile to grace his features.]
Arran: Liz, I have found you—
[His vision suddenly blurred, a cry of pain escaped him as he looked down. A lightsaber had been plunged into his abdomen. Barely remaining conscious, his gaze moved to who held the blade. It was Liz.
The lightsaber deactivated, he felt his legs buckle but he remained standing, if only just. Liz allowed a smirk to adorn her features as lightning shot forth from her hands, hitting Arran. It was this that forced the former Sith to his knees, one hand clutching at his stomach wound, the other barely propping himself up against falling completely on the ground.]
Liz: You took too long, dear husband. What is more, you are weak. You are not the man I married. I rule alongside another now. One is who is stronger than you could ever be. You are pathetic.
[Arran's immediate response was anger, but it was quickly overtaken by sadness. He had no one. He made a choice he never thought he would make. He let go. With that, Arran Zarkaine, former leader of the Union, and former Sith Lord, collapsed on the ground, accepting death.]
Long Ago Junk - Ssi'kaat System nearing Lwhekk
[The 'Long Ago Junk' violently shook as it made its way through hyperspace. Their repair job had been halfway mediocre, if even that. They simply did not have the luxury of time that they needed. It would get them to their destination. Zanka sat in the cockpit, keeping a steady hand on the controls. His free hand took out his comm unit and he paged H8er who was in the engine room.
Zanka: How's the hyperdrive holding up?
R5-H8: Barely. I am sorely tempted to just let it die so I can as well, but I must follow Master's orders.
Zanka: Pay close attention to the engine. We're entering the planet's atmosphere.
[With that, the ship began to shake even more. He was surprised, he didn't think it could get any worse. Still, they were here to find Arran. Zanka reached out in the Force to sense Arran's location. After several moments he found it, however slim it was. Carefully flying the ship to what appeared to be a temple, he began to land.
The ship touched ground, it wobbled slightly once it touched ground and then caved to one side as one of the landing pads snapped. Zanka caught his balance, but H8er was not as fortunate. When the ship tilted on its side, H8er was busy inspecting the engine when he was suddenly thrown into the wall. Metal panels dented from his weight and some sparks shot out.]
R5-H8: [Muttering.] The impact wasn't hard enough. Next time it will dislodge my core and permanently end me.
[The two exited the ship via the loading ramp. As they climbed up to what was a large open platform, they caught sight of what appeared to be several bipedal dinosaur-like beings in the distance dragging away and gnawing on bodies. They were called saurians.
One of them caught sight of Zanka and H8er and let out a loud screech. The other saurian creatures turned their heads to the two and dropped whatever bodies they had been carrying and charged at them. Zanka activated his lightsaber and charged at them while H8er rolled over to them quickly. Zanka jumped up on one's back and rode it as it ran about in circles, attempting to shake him off.
Zanka held onto it before jamming his lightsaber into the saurian's side. He jumped off as it collapsed and looked to see one more charging at him followed by a screaming H8er.]
R5-H8: AM I NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU TO CHEW AND DESTROY? DESTROY ME, I SAY. DESTROY ME.
[The charging saurian screeched and lunged just as Zanka jumped to attack it. The saurian bit into boot and began to thrash the jawa about.]
Zanka: [Yelling.] H8er, do something and I'll grant you the best death when the time comes!
R5-H8: [Screeching.] UNHAND THE JAWA WHO WILL REDEEM HIS SPECIES.
[With that, the droid's wheels spun out on the stone floor as he rammed into the side of the saurians body.
Zanka took the moment and stabbed his lightsaber up into the saurian's head before being dropped on top of H8er.]
Zanka: Thank you H8er.
R5-H8: Will you end it now?
Zanka: No, not yet.
R5-H8: YOU LIED TO ME!
Zanka: I said soon, not now.
R5-H8: YOU JAWAS ARE ALL THE SAME. LYING, CHEATING. IT'S NO WONDER THE GALAXY HATES YOUR KIND.
Zanka: I promise I'll end it when Arran says yes. He owns you.
R5-H8: [slightly mollified.] I will ask him for death when we find him.
[The R5 unit rolled itself back upright and turned around, scanning the area. It left the jawa on the ground and wheeled itself over several feet before stopping before a body. H8er scanned for life signatures and stood motionless.]
R5-H8: [Nonchalantly.] Too late. Master appears to be dead. We're doomed. Ownership falls to you now. Allow me to perish.
[Zanka felt something through the Force. Arran wasn't dead, not yet. He hung on to life, just barely. Zanka could feel his friend slipping away, his presence fading more with each passing second.]
Zanka: He's still there, barely. He'll die if we don't do something.
R5-H8: DAMNIT. I WAS SO CLOSE. SO CLOSE. [He let out another droid screech and departed quickly for the ship before the jawa could respond.]
[As Zanka made to lift Arran up, the doors to the Temple opened. Several Sith emerged and ran towards the two. Zanka was unable to lift Arran, he settled on using the Force and began to run back to the ship. Crossing the platform with Arran in tow, he commed H8er.]
Zanka: H8er, prep the ship. We're taking off.
R5-H8: [Slightly bitter sounding.] Yes, jawa.
[As the jawa neared the boarding ramp it began to close. The ship's engines had since begun to whir to life.]
Zanka: What are you doing H8er?!
[There is only the sound of static across the comm channel.
Zanka jumped up onto the top of the ship, and opened a hatch. Throwing Arran down first, he jumped in before making his way to the cockpit. Taking off, the ship began to shake violently as it struggled to break the atmosphere. The engine stopped twice before settling on staying on. Breaking through the atmosphere, Zanka looked at the navicomputer. Any place would do.
Setting coordinates for Dathomir, the ship entered hyperspace. Breathing a sigh of relief, he made his way to the fallen form of Arran at the bottom of the hatch ladder. Using the Force, he picked him up and brought him to his room. Settling him down onto his bed and careful to avoid his head banging against the newly placed obelisk from Korriban. Before he went to tend to Arran, he had to ensure H8er could cause no trouble.
Making his way to one of the cargo holds, he began to rummage through his collection of scrap and other such things. He couldn't use his blaster pistol on the droid, something more temporary would have to be used. After several moments, he found it. His ionization blaster from when he was still on Tatooine. It should disable the droid for several hours while he tended to Arran.]
Zanka: H8er!
R5-H8: [Comes into the cargo hold several moments later and spots the blaster in Zanka's hands.] No, please. Not that. Anything but that! ANYTHING!
[Zanka shoots the ionization blaster at the droid, short-circuiting him. With that, he made his way to Arran's room and set down the blaster. He locked the door behind him. Sitting down next to Arran's bedside, he laid his hands over the man and entered a meditative state intent on healing him.]
Dathomir- Aurilia Spaceport
[The jawa and the droid had spent the next several weeks stationed at the remote spaceport. What was once a small village port was now a hovel for space travelers and entrepreneurs. Zanka kept mostly to himself, which wasn't hard given that he was a jawa accompanied by a disgruntled droid. There were many mean and strange looks given to him, but Zanka shrugged them off. Sparks flew as the little apprentice worked hard to make his ship worthy of flight. The jawa knew that they would surely be attacked by the Sith again, it was only a matter of time. When the day cycle turned to night, Zanka would lock up the ship, shut down H8er (whether by way of ionized blaster or by flicking the switch), and set himself up on a cot in Arran's chambers to heal him. Sleep was dismal for the jawa, but he did his best to bring Arran back, despite the ex-Sith seemingly fighting against him. Cells were rapidly healing and multiplying to secure the wound in Arran's chest. Zanka bandaged it the best he could, and when the wound was ready, he took a needle and thread to sew it up. Arran's armor was destroyed, lying in an incinerator outside that Zanka had carefully taken off using his lightsaber and spare tools used to repair the ship.
Every day Zanka waited for Arran to wake up, but each day seemed like a defeat. He waited though, and kept his hopes up. Zanka made sure not to leave the ship for very long, and when he did it was always within eyesight. He tried trading with the local merchants, but even in this part of the galaxy jawas got poor reception. This left Zanka to feel disgruntled, but he eventually persevered and made a business partner out of an Ithorian stationed at a kiosk at the spaceport. Zanka traded what little he had with the Ithorian for whatever he could get, and even won some credits off of him by beating him at Sabacc. During one of these card games, H8er rolled up to Zanka and shocked him.]
R5-H8: The Master has awoken.
[Zanka looked down at his card hand. It was the middle of the game, and even though his cards were mediocre, he still felt he could win. At any rate, Arran took priority over a game. He pushed his cards into the center and set them down.]
Zanka: I'm out. We'll play again some other time.
[Nodding to the Ithorian he made way for the ship, followed by H8er. Boarding via the loading ramp, he entered Arran's room. Arran was sitting on the edge of his bed, one hand over his face rubbing at his eyes, the other rubbing over the spot in which he had been stabbed. He fingers glazed over the stitching and when he looked down he could see the discoloration of the scarring. Arran stood up slowly, his legs weak as he was not used to standing. He leaned against the wall for support until he was able to stand on his own. He eyed the jawa and the droid but walked past them sluggishly, saying nothing. He made his way to the cockpit, leaning on the ship in order to get there. Looking out of the viewport and squinting at the sun hitting his face, he then turned to Zanka.]
Arran: Where are we Nk'ik?
Zanka: Dathomir. 3 weeks from when you almost died.
Arran: Three weeks...How'd you do it? We don't have a medbay.
Zanka: The Force.
Arran: [Arran nodded and looked down at what he was wearing. His pants were torn and scorched, and his boots didn't fare much better.] Take H8er into town and find me some civilian clothes...nothing too fancy, Nk'ik, just something that'll allow me to lie low for a while…[Arran stumbled backward and plopped down on a crate, needing some time to himself.
Zanka took out his ionization blaster and made to leave the room.]
Zanka: He stays on the ship. Damn droid nearly got us killed.
[With that, the jawa performed his usual blasting of H8er and left the ship to go into town, intent on finding Arran clothes.
Arran let out a deep sigh and tried standing. His legs were still weak, but he mustered the strength to stand on his own. Glancing back down at his wound, Arran let out a grunt as he walked back to his room. He eyed the obelisk from Korriban and shook his head. The jawa was ambitious, he would give him that much. Arran fumbled as he sat down on the ground, nestling himself on a cot. He closed his eyes and tried to meditate, but he was plagued by visions of Liz betraying him. He could feel the lightsaber singeing into his flesh, and he was reminded of himself giving up. He felt ready to die, and that readiness was still with him. There was a disconnect between himself and the Force, but Arran didn't try to fix it. He let the Force leave him. Arran felt cold and strange. No longer could he sense the life on the planet. Arran had shut it all away, and for once, he felt comfortable with not knowing what would happen to him.
Standing back up slowly, Arran reached onto his bed to help support him. When he lifted himself up, he caught the sight of his lightsaber laying on the mattress. He took it in his hand and placed it in a lockbox. He opted to take his blaster and holster instead. Arran locked the lightsaber away. When the door to his chambers opened and the jawa came in with a handful of new clothes, Arran turned and motioned for Zanka to place them on the bed. He was quiet, but as the jawa turned to leave, he quietly spoke to him.]
Arran: Liz betrayed me. I found her there...at the temple. I fought my way through Sith to save her. I held her in my arms, Nk'ik, and she rammed a saber through my gut…[He turned to face the jawa, throwing his blaster and holster on the bed beside his clothes.] Thank you for bringing me back Nk'ik, but I should have died there. You didn't have come back for me. I never asked you to. If the Force willed me to die...I should have done so.
Zanka: [Stayed silent for several seconds.] We were going to Lwhekk. You wanted to get there faster. I could have gotten upset and left you. I didn't. I said I'd help you, I meant it.
Arran: [He nodded and stayed quiet at the jawa's words. He peered down at the floor before looking at the pile of clothes laying on the bed.] Meet me outside. I'll buy you a drink. Lock down the ship. Stuff H8er in the storage room if you have to.
[Zanka nodded. He ensured H8er was restrained in the cargo hold with another shot from his ionization blaster. Locking down the navicomputer, he exited the ship to meet Arran.
After putting on his new clothes, Arran exited the ship in brown pants, black boots, a tan long sleeved shirt, with a green vest layered on top. He clicked the holster together in the front and made sure his blaster was secure. He looked at the jawa and then looked back at what he was wearing. It was different than what he was used to, but it worked. He looked like a nobody, which was how he felt anyway.]
Arran: Did you take care of the droid? [He started walking away from the ship, unsure of where he was going, but he was sure he'd find a cantina nearby. He just had to listen for the sounds of belligerence.]
Zanka: Yeah. He should be out for about twelve hours.
[Arran didn't say anything. Without the Force, he felt naked, but he was getting used to the feeling. There was no responsibility. He was able to blend in and become a nobody. It was like he was dead.
They came upon a shady looking building not too far away. People stood outside smoking and looking at the odd pair. Arran placed his hand on his blaster but only got small laughter from the people as a response. He passed by them and head inside. The place was dark, lit only by some neon panels on the sides near windows. Dathomir was surely something else. Arran found an empty booth in the corner and made his way there, passing by people of species even he didn't recognize. When he and Zanka had sat down, a scantily clad zabrak woman walked up to them.]
Zabrak Woman: What are ya having?
Zanka: [He looked at Arran.] You're paying the full bill. [Turning back to the Zabrak.] I'll have Endorian chicken wings, Capellan Turg-rrot root stew, and Bantha-Blood Fizz. Oh, and a Ganno Juice.
Arran: Bring me a plate of Rancor ribs—medium rare. Also give me the darkest ale you've got.
Zabrak Woman: Honey, the Rancor ribs is a party dish—
Arran: I know what I'm about, miss. I haven't eaten in three weeks.
[The Zabrak woman rolled her eyes from the supposed exaggeration of Arran not eating for that long and walked off. Arran sat quietly at the booth, leaning back and resting his arm along the top of the seat. He stared out the window. The alcohol couldn't have come any faster. Zanka was sitting still in his seat, staring ahead.]
Arran: How is the ship?
Zanka: It's back to the way it was before Korriban—minus a cooperative droid.
[The female zabrak returned with a bowl of Warra. She didn't bother to glance at the two, as the table behind them had called her over.]
Arran: I'm surprised he's still operable.
Zanka: I needed him to get the ship barely functioning to get to you. What I didn't need was him trying to take off with the ship while was chased by Sith as I dragged your body back.
Arran: [He heard the Jawa but his mind wandered elsewhere. He spoke quietly.] That stupid schutta…[He turned to look at Zanka and spoke louder.] Why did she turn on me? I lost everything for her. Everything I did was for her. I tell you Nk'ik, woman are nothing but trouble...I would like to go somewhere quiet—live a simpler life without any of this extra garbage.
Zanka: I can't say why she did what she did. I'm not her. Where do you want to go?
Arran: Somewhere I won't be found. Somewhere Khaar can't even locate me.
Zanka: Fhost. It's secluded in Wild Space, near Unknown Regions. It has deserts and mountains, as well as one ocean. It only has one city, built inside an old ship. It's so remote that movies on the HoloNet are a third of the year old.
Arran: I'd go somewhere nobody will know to look. That includes you, Nk'ik. After everything that happened...my time in the Galaxy is over. I should have died on Lwhekk.
Zanka: [The jawa reached into one of the pouches on his bandoleer and took out a small datapad. He slid it across the table to Arran.] I had to do a lot of essay writing for Jaden. Here's a list of planets I found interesting.
Arran: [He took a quick glance at the datapad, scrolling through the list of essays the jawa had written. Most of them seemed pointless.] Be thankful I don't have you do stupid assignments. Vallen is a fine swordsman, but he fails as a teacher.
Zanka: All he taught me was how to run around a Jedi Temple and how to draw maps. We didn't duel often or train the Force together.
Arran: Since then you've killed Sith, saved my ass, and more. I'd call that a good tradeoff.
[The Zabrak woman came holding a platter of food. She placed the large platter of ribs in front of Arran, followed by a mug of a very dark substance that looked as black as oil, and utensils. Arran promptly handed the utensils back.]
Arran: These will not be necessary.
[The waitress gave Arran an annoyed look as she took the utensils and shoved them in a large pocket sewn on her apron. She then set down a bowl of spicy smelling stew and a plate of wings in front of the jawa. She followed this with a glass of a bitter-smelling drink and one that was deep red. She left the two. Zanka reached into his hood and parted his face wrapping slightly, grabbed a wing, and began to eat. Arran first took a drink of his ale before digging into the ribs. He rose the large stack of meat to his mouth and bit into it. The meat was tender and juicy. Whatever sauce they had drizzled on the top made it even better. He quickly devoured the plate of ribs, and eased himself back in his seat, licking his fingers and taking large swigs of his ale.]
Arran: The real question is, what do we do now? I've never not had a purpose for myself. I've always had a plan or a goal. I've fought in wars before Nk'ik, and I've lost before, but I always had a next step. This time...I don't know what to do. This loss feels different. I should quit while I can, leave the problem for someone else. The Union can handle it, I built it from the ground up and gave it strength. Surely it can handle whatever plan the Sith have…
[Arran sat in silence for several moments, gazing blankly at the table as he thought about the fight once more. There were Sith, lots of them, probably dozens more inside. Liz had set him up and betrayed him, but for what purpose? When he held her and kissed her lips it felt like her, but he wondered if maybe it wasn't her at all… — No, it had to have been her. Arran knew he would have felt something...but then again, even as she shoved the blade into his gut, she felt the same. He felt that same warmness in her presence, and loved her to the end...Even now, his thoughts betray him. He wondered if he could give up that life so easily; if he could give up on the Galaxy and the Jedi — Drasli — so easily…]
Arran: [scoffs] The Jedi can barely handle surviving in secrecy, let alone face whatever threat the Sith might pose.
[Zanka had since finished his wings and moved onto the stew. He had foregone his spoon, instead gulping down large amounts from the bowl. It was extremely spicy, just the way he enjoyed it. It took several moments to finish the soup. He enjoyed eating quickly—to Hell with people who said a meal was to be enjoyed slowly. He downed the Ganno Juice in one go, now sitting with just his Bantha-Blood Fizz. He listened as Arran spoke.]
Arran: Keeping the Galaxy safe is a job for a Jedi anyway. No one needs me. My time is over, it has been ever since the Union tried killing me. The old hag on Korriban didn't know what she was talking about.
Zanka: The Union might take care of the Galaxy, I'm not so sure about Sith. The Jedi are holed up in the Temple, doing nothing. If you want to live in a quiet place, you should. I don't want you to, but I can't force you to stay. [He took a sip of his Bantha-Blood Fizz. It was relatively fresh. It tasted quite good.]
Arran: Why? What service have I done for you? I took you away from the Jedi, have nearly gotten you killed on numerous occasions, and have forced you to kill.
Zanka: Any place you look, there's a hierarchy. The species doesn't matter, or the organization—there's always someone higher than you. I hate that. Why should I bow my head completely to someone in a higher position than me? You treated me as an equal. You gave me my first lightsaber when Jaden didn't. You taught me how to use my body as a weapon. That, and thinking outside the box like using fire. Everyone has rules too. I hate that—rules limit you, they tell you how far you're supposed to go before backing off. The jawas on Tatooine, they're only good for being peaceful. It gets them killed. They'd rather bow their heads, scrap a couple droids, and get killed in the process than stand up for themselves. Never mind the recent civil war on Tatooine, I don't think it'll be long before they go back to their old ways. I go from that sort of place, to the Jedi. They tell you how to act too. The chains are different, but they're still chains. It didn't matter if I was getting shot at for being a jawa, or for being a Jedi, someone was trying to shoot me either way. That's the way of the Galaxy. You either kill or be killed. I choose the first if it means avoiding the second. Still, you're a person. Not a higher-up figure. Just the way I like it.
Arran: [He nods and takes a drink of his ale.] You've done well so far Nk'ik. I'm not going to limit you unless you try to do something stupid. But I haven't been teaching you as much as I could be. I suppose I should finish your training before retiring to wherever I decide to go.
Zanka: [He nodded.] I used to do stupid things. I'd like to think I've gotten better in that area. Still, I like the idea of more training. You were my age once—what was it like?
Arran: I did a lot of stupid things. I know what it's like hitting rock bottom. The dark side is powerful, but also deceiving if you are not careful. I murdered without a purpose. I murdered Jedi by the dozens, overthrew the Republic, and for what? Look where I am now. I'm sitting in a rundown diner when I should be dead. My legacy was over before it even started.
Zanka: What's it like? The way you are right now, how are you not killing everything that moves?
Arran: I could kill everyone in this room without much effort Nk'ik. But what's the point? Look at the people in here. They are drinking, being obnoxious, and having a merry time. They have no clue they are sitting near the man who turned the Galaxy on its head. I'm just a nobody to them.
Zanka: [He spoke in a condescending tone.] I guess the Jedi will be able to protect the Galaxy just fine. I mean, they've been doing a great job the last couple of years.
Arran: If you've got something to say, spit it out Nk'ik.
Zanka: [He began in a somewhat cheery tone going back to his condescending one as he went on.] That's great if you want to retire. You're old—I'm sure you'll have a nice few relaxing years on some remote planet. Maybe you'll even go ice fishing. It just sucks that there's nobody capable to stop the Sith. Drasli spent most of his time trying to keep the others from killing each other, and the Union doesn't know which way is up. I'm sure all the planets will either be conquered or destroyed somehow, including the one where you're ice fishing.
Arran: [He spoke back in the same condescending manner.] Yeah, if only I had a capable apprentice to take over for me. [He then stiffened and leaned over the table, a finger jabbing toward Zanka's face.] Maybe I should train you like I was trained—tortured and beaten every day, forcing you to question whether your next breath will be your last. Pinning you against Mandalorians and constantly getting your ass kicked. Maybe then you'll be as capable as I—maybe then all of the Galaxy's problems can be your problems and not mine.
Zanka: At least when I hit rock bottom I won't stay down. I live in this Galaxy, I'd like to keep some of the planets intact.
Arran: Is that what you think of me? I've gotten back up from the fight plenty of times, but guess what Nk'ik? You get your wish; it's time for more training.
[With that, Arran waved the Zabrak women over. She slowly strode over with her hands on her hips.]
Zabrak Woman: You can't afford to get a dance out of me, honey.
Arran: [He gave the woman a glare, obviously not amused, but he restrained himself and forced a friendly smile instead.] Where is the nearest Witch camp?
Zabrak Woman: The nightsisters? Why would you ever want to go there?
Arran: [He drawled.] Recreation.
Zabrak Woman: [She pointed out of the window into the forest] Several clicks that way you'll find a small encampment. Hunters go missing just about every week because of them.
Arran: [He gave her a nod and then waved her off. The woman rolled her eyes again and trotted away. He placed a Union credit chip on the table and stood up from the booth.] See that? [He pointed at the credit chip.] They issue these to Union officers. You can use these at any Union controlled or allied system and it gets charged directly to the nearest embassy. They may have forced me out of my own military, but I still use my benefits.
Zanka: [He snorted at hearing this] Smart. Give me one when we get back to the ship. I could use it for repairs next time.
Arran: Not on your life Nk'ik, we only have so many. They'll need to be used sparingly. Your ship isn't worth any amount of credits.
Zanka: Good to know we'll be stranded when it breaks down again. Or when you decided to go jawa hunting through it again.
Arran: It will inevitably break down—don't blame that on my training techniques. Between your ship and our droid with a death wish, we're doomed.
Zanka: [He spoke sarcastically.] Let's space the droid then—the ship will break down quicker.
Arran: I like the droid. Despite his flaws, he's unique and keeps things interesting. We wouldn't do well with just the two of us cramped in a small ship. Besides, H8er annoys you more than I do and I find it amusing.
Zanka: It is pretty funny how he fails to follow basic orders—like trying to take off in the ship without me while I was carrying you.
Arran: That makes two in my company who disobey basic orders...Give the droid some credit, he got the ship off the ground so we could make an escape.
Zanka: I'll give the droid credit, like the credit you'll give me to repair the ship. You almost didn't make the escape because of him.
Arran: Yet here I am. At least it's an improvement from deliberately crashing the ship.
Zanka: Which has the same result as crashing the ship into the ground.
Arran: Whether the droid accomplishes that or not, your junk heap will crash into the ground. That has "long ago" been determined.
[Zanka said nothing but ground his teeth in frustration. Arran led the jawa out of the Cantina. Again the same entourage of misfits from before looked at them and gave a laugh as they huddled near the front door. Arran eyed their speeders and looked to the jawa.] Gentlemen, my associate and I will be taking your speeders now.
[Zanka looked back at Arran and nodded. He still held his glass of bantha-blood fizz and looked at the people in front of him.]
Zanka: The speeders are ours now.
[The men reached for their blasters, and even without the Force to aid him, Arran was quick to grab the nearest man and hold him in front of him as another shot at Arran. Zanka ran up to the other and jumped up, smashing the glass of alcohol into the man's face. It shattered on impact.]
Zanka: What a waste of a good drink.
Arran: Yeah, but we got two speeders out of it. [He hopped on the furthest one and turned it on, he revved the engine and waited for the jawa.]
Zanka: Yeah, there's that. Why are we going to the Nightsisters? [He got on the one closest to him.]
Arran: Training. The nightsisters are knowledgeable on using the Dark Side. Plus, they are fun to mess with. They aren't as formidable as a Mandalorian, but we'll make do. It's time for you to be thrown to the wolves. We'll see if you are able. [He smiled as he remembered a particular instance in his youth where he stumbled upon the witches.] Watch out for rancors. I suspect they'll be aggressive once they smell the ribs on my breath.
Zanka: [He muttered.] That, or might just be aggressive because they're rancors. [With that, he turned the engine on.]
[Arran sped down the grasslands away from the spaceport, it diminishing in view little by little until they hit the forest. Arran led Zanka down a creek, the speeders floating over the water and splashing waves off to the sides as they went. The more they went onward, the closer they got to the camp. Arran felt the Force, he felt darkness. It was creeping on him, calling to him, but he used his best efforts to dismiss it. Zanka felt it too. It was similar to what he felt on Korriban. He followed Arran anyway, despite his anger, he still trusted him.]