Chapter 3: Close Encounters

"Oh, man does this thing smell."

The elevator shot downward into the lower city, two Sith troopers in full battle armor stood side by side, watching the Taris skyline shoot up into the heavens.

"Well, what were you expecting? The Sith don't exactly smell like roses, you know."

"At least we didn't have to pry these things off a dead one. God knows what that would have smelt like."

The elevator slowed to a halt at the Lower City, its doors opening to the degrading corridors and battle scarred halls that permeated the Lower City, and unwittingly spilling the two occupants into the middle of a full fledge gang war.

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            Mission slid her finger along the dirt, drawing a rather amateurish sketch of a Bantha, consisting mainly of two circles, tree trunk legs, and spiral horns. Her work complete, Mission sighed and leaned back against the debris pile. Stakeouts were so boring. Why couldn't the guy just have left after he finished off those Vulkars? She lifted her head above the rubble pile to check on the pod again. A hint of movement inside the doorway. Mission held her breath.

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            Reven stepped out of the escape pod and surveyed the Undercity. A decaying relic from a long forgotten time. Nothing more. Criminals from the world above were banished here, forced to live out their remaining days in this degrading squalor. A dramatic change from what most of the spoiled pigs were used to, he imagined. There would be nothing for him here, Reven knew. He needed to get to the Upper City…

            Reven had modified his original plan. Malak had taken the Sith from him with a cowardly betrayal, attacking Reven from afar. It was only appropriate that Reven take them back without giving Malak a chance to defend himself. Reven smiled out at the universe he would once again command. Best of all, this plan didn't require a lightsaber.

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            "He's leaving for the Outcast Village!"

            At Mission's harsh whisper, Zaalbar looked up long enough to see the village gates close behind someone.

            "C'mon! Who knows when he'll be back?"

            Mission leapt deftly over the debris pile and took off towards the downed escape pod, Zaalbar following a little ways behind her.

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            Igear watched the man enter the village. Grey pants, Red flight jacket… he wasn't from the Undercity. He was from the surface. That meant credits. Igear didn't remember seeing him come down, but that was really a mute point anyway. He didn't care if the man teleported here from Courisant, so long as the stranger had credits.

            "Excuse me! You! You're not from around here, I can tell. Looks like you got fine taste too, I might add."

            The look the stranger shot Igear would have caused many to loose their bowel contents. Igear, however, was not so easily dissuaded.

            "I've got weapons, I do. Not the best stuff… mostly salvage and such, but I found an Echani Vibroblade a few weeks back… and an Arkanian energy pistol… excellent model… superb craftsmanship."

            The stranger stopped, considering Igear's offer. After a few moments the man strode purposely towards Igear and his little outcast shop.

            "Let me see the weapons."

            "The Vibroblade and the pistol? Right away."

            Igear laid the two items on the crate he used for transactions. The man examined them as Igear cemented the sale.

            "The Echani Vibroblades are very valuable. Sought after by collectors and mercenaries alike, I understand. They're a lot more flexible than the average melee weapon. Not a lot of that brutish hacking and bashing. That Vibroblade is a thinker's weapon, that's for sure. Can't say the same for the pistol. A heavy hitter, through and through. Now… uh…"

            Igear leaned in, adding drama to his claim.

            "Don't tell anyone I told ya this… but those Arkanian pistols can punch a hole right through Sith body armor. Lay them troopers out flat."

            Igear leaned back. This one was a sure fire sell. With the money from this sale, he could buy Gendar right out of office. A few speeches, a few promises and before long he'd be running this place again.

            "I'll take them."

            Igear smiled.

            "Excellent! Excellent! That'll be 1,200 credits for the pair. Hope they serve you long and well, my friend. Long and well."

            Before Igear could move, the barrel of the Arkanian pistol was pressed against his forehead, the voice of the stranger cold and menacing.

            "I said 'I'll take them.'"

            "T… Take them? I can't just let you…"

            The blaster fired.

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            Zaalbar's head jerked up at the sound of weapons fire. Something wasn't right. He turned to tell Mission, but she was engrossed with something she found in the escape pod.

            "Oh My God! Zaalbar! Quick! Come take a look at this!"

            Zaalbar moved up to the pod's open door and looked over Mission's shoulder.

            Inside the pod lay a young, unconscious woman. Attractive, by human standards… or at least what Zaalbar knew of them. Zaalbar tried to explain her presence.

            "No… I don't think it's his mate, Big Z."

            He asked Mission what they should do.

            "I dunno. That guy probably left to get a doctor. She looks hurt."

            Or he had left her to die. Zaalbar mentioned this possibility. 

            "No way… No one would do that. He probably went to get help from the village."

            Zaalbar told Mission of the gunshot from within the village. Was that getting help?

            "I don't know… we should do something… maybe take her to Zelka… but what if that Jedi comes back for her and she's not here?"

            Zaalbar started to reply, but the padded slap of rapid footfalls against the gray dirt signaled the approaching rakgoul pack. Zaalbar turned to assess the size of the threat. It looked like rakgouls were everywhere. Crawling along the walls, leaping out of pits, charging across the flat, featureless dirt. Seventeen at least. The largest pack he had ever seen…. Even heard about. This wasn't normal. Something had agitated them. Severely.

            Zaalbar reached into the pod and lifted the unconscious figure into his arms as Mission took potshots at the Rakgouls with her blaster, trying to keep them at bay. She heard Zaalbar give out a roar.

            "You know, people don't usually try to escape into the sewers, Big Z."

            Mission fired a few shots at another rakgoul. The pack was starting to break apart, trying to circle the pod and cut off escape.

            Zaalbar gave out another roar.

            "Yeah, I guess there is a first time for everything. Let's get moving before these guys get any closer."

            Mission and Zaalbar turned and ran for the nearest sewer entrance, the heavy footfalls of the rakgoul pack growing louder in pursuit.

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            Vera shifted her weight to her left foot, trying to keep the circulation going. "Adventure", the recruiters said. "Excitement", they said. "Come see the galaxy", they said. Just her luck. The most exciting job in the galaxy, and she gets stuck guarding a run down lift from a run down part of town into an even more run down part of town. They hadn't even assigned the spot a dual post so she could at least have someone to talk to. Not to mention that the cooling units in her armor had broken down, making the temperature inside her combat suit near 96 degrees Fahrenheit.

            Vera sighed.

            This was, without a doubt, the worst post in the galaxy.

            The ancient lift behind her groaned to life, signaling the arrival of another gallant, witty patrol returning from duty. Vera blew the hair out of her eyes. At least the anti-fogging units on her faceplate still worked, so she could see all the lovely decor the lower city provided. The doors screeched open, and Vera turned to welcome the patrol.

            She never even saw what happened.

            A blaster fired. Her helmet shuddered as the laser blast passed through it and entered her head. Half her brain was instantly melted from the heat of it. Her vision started to go black. As she fell sideways towards the ground, Vera felt a sword slice through the fabric midpoint in her armor that joined the upper and lower halves together. She could feel the blade inside her stomach. The steel was cold… so cold. It was out again… a quick slice. The blade was gone… gone. It's cold still lingered. As Vera hit the ground, the blade pierced the back of her neck, severing her spinal cord. The sound of a footstep. The last sound she would ever hear. Vera's world faded into darkness.

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            Reven walked purposely down the corridor, sliding his bloodstained sword into a makeshift sheathe and holstering his blaster. A successful trial run for both his new weapons. He passed Javyars's cantina, hearing blaster fire come from the west.

A gang war Reven thought to himself.

This was going to be fun.

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Canderous stepped out of the cantina, the sound of footfalls fading away towards the west. Blaster fire from that way as well. None of his concern. He signaled his men to start moving. Davik wanted those escape pods salvaged and he was on a time limit. Normally Davik had first dibs on things like this, but those damn Vulkars were getting out of hand. They might try to get their hands on the pods before Davik, and that would be bad for business all around.

            "All right, ladies. We ain't got all day. The sooner we get to the Undercity, the sooner we can get back out again. Move out."

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            Carth ducked back behind the shipping crate as laser blasts flew overhead.

            "Damn it. They've got us pinned down. I can't get a clear shot."

            Trask clutched his rifle tightly, his mind racing.

            "Maybe I can distract them. I'll jump out into the hallway and start shooting. When they pop out to blast me, you can pick 'em off with those pistols."

            Carth looked at Trask, his partner oddly malevolent in the Sith armor.

            "That sounds pretty risky."

            "I'll be fine. I've seen you shoot those things, Carth. You're not going to miss. Besides…"

            Trask slapped his armor.

            "This stuff is good for a few blaster hits."

            "Alright. I guess… I don't have a better plan, at any rate. When I count to…"

            The Vulkar's screams interrupted Carth, and almost caused him to drop his blasters. The screams were so… unexpected… so pained… so wrenching. When the wails finally died away, they were followed by the dull thud of bodies hitting the cold ground.

            Trask and Carth looked at each other.

            "What the Hell was that?" Worry was evident in Trask's voice.

            "Damned if I know."

            "Maybe it was a trick."

            "I don't think anybody can fake something like that."

            "Then what the Hell was it?"

            "I don't know. I'll take a look."

            Carth stood, his blaster pistols pointed at arms length down the corridor. He had risen in time to see three dead Vulkars sprawled across the floor, and the access lift beside them shooting into the Upper City.