As she leapt up the stairs awkwardly (there was something wrong with her left knee), thoughts flew into her mind in rapid succession. That shot. It could've killed her. Next time, you neanderthal, you take away their weapons before you turn your back on them. What the heck is the matter with you, anyhow? Think clearly!
She nodded to herself silently. Granted, that was a stupid move on her part, she'd have to put every little soldier in her mind on full alert.
She saw a door at the top of the stairs, light streaming in from a frosted window on it. She looked back down behind her and swallowed, disturbed. It wasn't the sight of the man on fire that had worried her. The fact of the matter remained that she had stared at the unfolding scenario with an eerie, detached curiousity. Was she turning back to that person from before? The one who had hurt Javin?
No, she decided – if at all, for her own consolation. And that's all she would think on the subject. Because for now, she had to focus on other matters.
She directed her attention forward and slid the access card through the security panel, just as before. The door opened, and she found herself in a large, white room. She looked about her dazedly. It was so immaculately white! What a stark contrast from the pits down below!
Not now, called out a voice inside of her. Just try to orient yourself. There are two doors to your side.
She walked up to them, and on closer inspection one appeared to be an elevator. The other obviously led to some other part of this building.
But which one will lead us outside?
She tried the door, but it was locked. She gave the access card a shot. The light on the paneling remained obstinately red. She tried it again and again, with no result.
Oh God, she realized slowly. That fool had two cards. How else could he have gotten through this place? This was the second stupid mistake she'd made. She tugged desperately at her hair, ideas of all sorts flitting about in her head. She could try the elevator or go back.
Go back, are you mad?
There could be more prisoners down there, maybe they could help.
Even a low rank soldier knows the drill: if you have a chance to escape from the enemy, you take it. You do not go back to free the masses on account of the very real possibility that you could be recaptured.
Scratch that. Try the elevator. She hit the button beside it only to be rewarded by an adamant beep. She hit it again.
And then she saw a panel of numbers next to it, and groaned.
Angry and terrified and worried, she wanted to jam the small knife she'd taken off that little fellow down below into the array of numbers. Aside from certain electrocution, though, it would not bring her much success. She moved towards the locked door again, tugging at it. Nothing. But as she stopped, she heard a noise, faint though it was, coming from the other side. She paused, listening intently. Ah, it was getting louder. They were coming this way.
Depending on who this person, or people, were and whether they were well-armed or not, this could potentially be a fortuitous or an extremely disastrous turn of events.
In any case, she had best try to look like she belonged. She moved quickly towards the elevator, and relaxed her shoulders. In the next moment, the door opened and she held her breath. She immediately glanced up casually at the numbers above the lift, while simultaneously looking out of the corner of her eye at this newcomer.
It was a woman, tall, and athletic-looking. She had, on her person, two holsters, in which sat two sturdy-looking blasters. She had on a bright red jacket that actually fit her, and some black trousers, with a small bulge just above her right ankle. Ah, recognized, Elori. A hidden pistol. Everything considered, this woman would not prove to be easy-pickings. If she had to do something, decided Elori, it would have to be done stealthily.
Slowly, she edged her way cautiously towards the woman who was about to open the door that led downstairs. The woman turned around and looked Elori up and down. Elori gave her her best attempt at a smile. Perhaps it was the teeth that did it, because the woman frowned, her hand moving towards her hip.
"Here, who are you?" she asked, her voiced seeped in that don't-give-me-any-funny-business crap.
"Here to check on the generator. Your boys called me down to have a look at it, but I can't seem to get in." She looked at the woman earnestly, hoping above all that her wide eyed expression did not make her seem deranged. "Maybe you can go down and see what the trouble is?"
"I'm here because I'm having a spot of bother with radio silence." said the woman. Her hand was touching her weapon now.
This was most definitely not good. Keep talking, woman, keep talking! she urged herself. "You need any help?" And she moved forward, feigning innocence.
At this, the woman pulled out her blaster quicker than you could say wraid, and said "You stay right where you are, girlie!"
Elori froze, holding her hands up.
The woman was taking in Elori's demeanor and appearance more intently now, and her eyes suddenly widened as she caught a glimpse of Elori's bare feet. Her mind was occupied while trying put the pieces together, when a blow knocked the blaster out of her hand, sending it sliding across the floor. She immediately reached for her second weapon at her hip, when a firm hand locked her own into place.
"I don't think so," came Elori's voice.
The woman grabbed Elori's arm and twisted it, but Elori, the shorter of the pair, held on fast. She stuck a leg in between the woman's own, bring her crashing to the ground. But her assailant was just as eager to come out on top as she was. The woman swung both legs, knocking them hard into Elori's, and it wasn't long before she too was brought to the floor.
Disarm, disarm! cried out a voice in Elori's head.
Simultaneously trying to dodge the woman's punches, she dove for the woman's blaster near her hip. If she had the time, she would have pulled out that small knife, but perhaps it was best that it – along with that other tranquilizer pistol – remain hidden for now. After a series of grunts and inadvertent curses, Elori had managed to jerk the stubborn blaster away from its holster and sent it flinging across the ground just as its counterpart had seconds before. The small pistol, too, had become dislodged from its holster during the scuffle, and clattered across the floor away from either woman's reach.
"You bitch!" screamed the woman, and rewarded Elori with a stunning blow to her chin.
She was sent reeling backwards, and blinked stupidly, trying to gather her wits. She saw the woman get up and stumble away from her, possibly trying to reach one of her lost weapons.
Now, she told herself.
Still seated, and with her legs out in front of her, she pulled out her tranquilizer pistol and aimed it at the woman's behind. "Freeze, you schutta!"
The woman paid no heed to the warning and kept moving.
"I said: freeze!" With that, Elori pulled the trigger and watched as the dart slammed into the thigh of her assailant.
The woman grunted and fell to the floor. She quickly reached behind her and yanked out the dart with a scream. She turned to look at Elori and threw her a furious stare.
"Yeah?" spoke Elori, getting up and wiping the blood that dribbled down her chin. "Well maybe next time you'll listen better!"
"I don't listen to half-brain sprites like yourself!" spat the woman. And then she moved her face near her right shoulder, talking into something strapped to it. "Get me some bloody backup! She's out – the Jedi's out! Send in the freakin' calvary!" She looked back up at Elori defiantly.
Elori set her jaw and moved slowly towards the woman, shaking her head. "Oh bitch, you should not have done that."
She raised the pistol and fired a shot into the woman's left shoulder, and then moved the weapon a few inches to her right, and let out another shot into her right shoulder. A few seconds later, Elori strode over to her and yanked the radio off. She stepped away and tied the radio to her own person.
"As I have been led to believe, it's going to be a little while before your system says goodnight. And when it does, you're going to be dreaming for a couple of hours...at least. So let's talk." Elori moved to one corner of the room where the woman's blaster lay and picked it up. She walked towards the second one and tucked it in her pants. "What is this place?"
The woman stayed silent. Eyes following Elori's every move.
"The tranquilizers will give you a sleep you can wake up from. The blasters won't. Now what is this place?"
The woman bit her lip before answering. "You'll never make it out alive. There are going to be so many after your ass, and this place is so huge – you'd have to be able to teleport to escape. But what a pity such technology hasn't been developed yet, wouldn't you say?"
Elori let out a deep breath. She raised her weapon, the blaster this time. "They say that the most dangerous animal is not the biggest, or the bravest, or the fiercest. It's the one who's cornered who'll fight to the death. So you really ought to choose your words carefully. Because already, I've done in two of your men. And now, here you are, lying on the floor, almost limp, in front of me. What makes you think I'm going to stop now?"
The woman swallowed nervously.
"Tell me what this place is."
"It's an abandoned military base."
"Where?"
"Alderaan. You're on Alderaan."
Elori nodded slowly. "Good. How big of a base are we talking?"
"Fifty sublevels below ground." Her words began to slur slightly. The tranquilizer was beginning to work its way through her system.
Elori knew she didn't have much time. "Who put me in here?"
The woman chuckled. "How the hell would I know? I only follow orders; I do what I'm told."
"Surely you must have some idea; you don't strike me to be as dumb as your counterparts." She squeezed the trigger slightly for effect.
The woman looked away and sighed in frustration. "Exchange, okay? We're Exchange."
"You collecting a bounty? Bringing me all the way from Corellia to Alderaan, and locking me up in a military base of all places...must be a tidy sum your benefactors have got lined up for you. Who's topping the bill?"
"I'm telling you the truth. I have no freakin' idea."
The radio, now strapped to Elori's shoulder, crackled to life.
"Copy that. Squad's coming down there on the double. Hold your horses, Layla."
The woman, Layla, grinned back up at Elori. "Tick tock."
Elori's eyes narrowed, ignoring her. "You don't think it's funny, them making you go to so much trouble over one lousy Jedi?"
"I'm feeling a little woozy, Jedi. So if you don't mind, me and mine would like to go to bed now." Despite the woman's valiant efforts at staying alert, the tranquilizer was on its course to completing its task.
"Tell me the code to use the elevator," said Elori, bending down and grabbing the woman by the collar of her jacket.
"Two-oh-four-seven-nine-three. Wow. That's some strong stuff you gave me..." her head lolled backwards before she jerked it up again.
Elori yanked her collar upwards. "Is this the same code for every door on all the levels?"
"'Course not. There's a bunch of exits. Guarded though. All of 'em."
"Which floors are they on?"
"Um...sub-level twelve, twenty-one and something else...can't remember,"
"What are the codes!" yelled Elori, trying to grab the woman's attention, and her focus.
"You can't. There aren't no codes. My passcard'll give you access to lotsa levels in the compound, but to get out...and in...you gotta have voice activation."
"Voice activation..." muttered Elori, her voice hollow.
"Haha...you lose, Jedi."
With that, the woman slumped onto the floor, unconscious.
The blonde woke up first. She let out a yawn and propped herself up in bed. She gave a quick look towards her sleeping companion next to her and planted her bare feet on the floor. Letting out a contented sigh, she rose and made her way towards the bathroom.
Her companion, roused by the movement, stirred before lazily opening up his eyes. Through sleepy vision, he saw his partner stroll away from him, and shut his eyes in realization.
He'd done it again, hadn't he?
As if to echo his thoughts, the woman called out to him. "What d'you want for breakfast, Jaq?"
He mumbled something incoherent to himself, which caused her to repeat the question. His response was a little less than friendly. "Isn't it afternoon, anyway? Don't you need to be somewhere?"
There was no immediate reply, but her footsteps across the floor grew louder, and she stood beside the bed, arms folded across her chest, frowning. He couldn't help but let his eyes wander over her again. She was a beautiful woman, there was no doubt there. Flawless skin, mesmerizing blue eyes, naturally silky blonde hair, and a body that left many of his kind coming back night after night. What wasn't to like?
" – for, is that it?" she finished saying.
Damn! Had he let the words fly by again? That bloody Juma. It had caused him to make far too many, how should he put it, uninformed decisions. He'd have his last one tonight. And that was it. Promise.
"You haven't been listening to a thing I've said, have you?" she scolded.
"Aw honey, I just woke up, and after a couple too many glasses of Juma too..." He rubbed the back of his neck and winced for effect.
"I'm trying to make breakfast for us both, and you want me to clear out. That's what you said. I heard it."
"Now I don't think I said it in so rough of a tone," he began to protest.
"You filth!" shouted the woman, her eyes blazing. "You got what you wanted and now it's so long, huh? I don't even know why I put out for you!"
Jaq looked back up at her, and spoke, throwing caution to the wind. "Well you know...you are one of Rodha's girls...and to put it delicately, that's what you get paid to do,"
"But not for you, you pus-filled Bantha! I don't consider you a customer!"
He rolled his eyes and sighed. Lesson learned. No more Juma. No more drugs. No more bloody women. He got up from the bed, and began to put on his trousers. She hit him decidedly with a pillow. Both feet in one leg, he lost his balance and fell, hitting the side of his head on the nightstand.
Alright, that was the last straw. Seeing this blonde all riled up could only give him his kicks for so long.
He got up and threw her a look that shut her up. "Listen, sister, when you got involved with me, I laid out the ground rules for you – nice and simple. You said 'yeah, that's exactly what I'm looking for too. No problem. No problem at all.' And now, you're bouncing off the walls trying to pin something on me that ain't my fault. If you got these stupid feelings for me, my best suggestion for you, sweetheart, is one," he held his index finger up, "go take a cold shower. Two," he held two fingers up, "go find yourself a nice boy and get yourself hitched."
With that, he strode away from her in the direction of the kitchen. But his words, apparently, were not much of a dissuasion. Because he soon heard her trotting behind him. When he turned around to confront her, her face was drawn, an effect of obvious confusion stirring within her.
"I thought you were a nice boy," she said in a small voice.
Jaq stared at her, a little taken aback by her expression and her words, and then let out a sarcastic chuckle. "That has got to be the biggest croc I've heard in ages."
"Jaq, you told me last night," at this, a tear rolled down her cheek. "You told me that you didn't love her all along. That she was right and that there was someone else for you. You meant me, didn't you?"
Eh? Now where the hell did all this gibberish come from? This broad must've been reading too many romance novels in her spare time. Whatever he'd done, whatever he'd said was an obvious side effect of chemicals and cocktails. Thank god he rarely mixed the two during pazaak matches. He'd be down on some serious credits if that were the case.
He held up his hands defensively and tried to soften his tone for her benefit. "Honey, listen...hey now, don't cry, okay? Whatever you feel for me, I can't reciprocate. I'm just...not built that way. That's the truth. The other obvious truth is that I'm a stupid, insensitive cad who deserves to be washed into the gutter. You need to do something now. You need to do right by yourself and forget about me. Trust me. The worst bloke on this planet is starlight in comparison to me."
She looked up him in silence for several moments, hoping he'd have a change of heart. When she saw that it wasn't forthcoming, she let out a sob and turned around. Within minutes, she had packed up her things and had slammed the door behind her.
Drained by the recent events, Jaq flopped down onto a couch and stared up at the ceiling. "Starlight in comparison to me...where do you pick up these sayings, you piece of scum?" he muttered, chortling to himself.
He had been seated like that for only a few minutes when he heard a knock on the door. He closed his eyes, hoping that the sound would subside. It didn't.
"What!" he yelled, not removing himself from his comfortable position.
"It's me, Ges!" came back the muffled voice.
"Whatever you want, I'm not buying! It's because of you I have a headache the size of Nal Hutta!"
"For god's sake, Jaq, open the door will ya?"
Jaq reluctantly rose from his seat and opened the door equally slowly. A green-skinned Twi'lek stared back at him, his eyes wide and his voice urgent. He pushed past Jaq into the flat and shut the door himself. He walked quickly into Jaq's own kitchen and motioned for the other man to sit down opposite him.
Ges looked around the small flat, and cocked an eyebrow. "Damned nice place you got here...did your granny die and leave you some money?"
His face remained bland. "I got it from a former Republic soldier who was looking to sell. Never bothered to redecorate this place in Juma tones." He sighed, "Now look. You obviously didn't come all the way down here to talk interior design."
"You're right," said Ges, leaning in. "I have a proposition for you, old boy. If you want the credits to do up this place in Juma tones, as you put it, I got a good way for you to earn it."
"I'm listening," said Jaq, and then his eyes narrowed and he held a hand up. "Wait a minute. Something doesn't add up. When you came into this flat, you looked downright spooked. Is someone gunning you down for credits? Do you want me to deal with them – is that the job?"
"What? No! Not at all like that. It's just that, well..."
"Well what, Ges?" said Jaq, impatient now.
"You'll like this job. It's right up your alley. And what's better, you get ten thousand credits now, and fifty thousand on closure."
"What's the job, Ges." repeated Jaq, his voice a monotone. He watched as the Twi'lek's hand twitched involuntarily. The man was obviously nervous about something.
"Remember, back on Korriban...when I gave you that piece of information that saved your proverbial behind?" At this, Jaq nodded, and Ges continued. "You said you owed me one. And now I've come to...um...that is, collect."
Jaq leaned back in his seat, and slung one arm over the top of the chair. "In other words, this isn't a job. It's an offer I can't refuse."
"Well, you can refuse. If you want to see parts of me scattered from here to the outer rim. Yeah. You can back out if that's what you want."
"Okay." Jaq let out a small laugh. "I now understand your sense of urgency. But why me? You can have your pick of any mercenary or bounty hunter! They can do things with a loaded weapon that I can only do with a stack of pazaak cards. I mean, I know this is Alderaan, and the Republic's seal is stamped on everyone's ass, but you're a resourceful guy!"
"No, Jaq. I don't need them. I need you. First off, this problem I have, it's here. On Alderaan. And I need it contained. You're here, and other renowned bounty hunters and their sweet cousins aren't. Second, it's like I said. This is your territory. No one can do it like you can."
"I have a bad feeling about this..." Jaq stared at his friend warily.
"Just listen to what I have to say, will you?"