There was a Sith stand outside the apartment door, what was Connan expected to do? He had already seen her and Carth, so she might as well go up there and talk to him.
"Hello!" She said in a friendly voice, waving. She ran up to him. "What's going on?"
"Nothing that concerns you, citizen. Move along." The Sith ordered, making Connan cross her arms.
"I'm not a citizen, thank you very much. Now,who's in there?" She asked, pointing into the room the Sith guarded. She could hear the voices from her outside post.
"Come on," A Sith voice inside the room said. "We know you stole those uniforms, just give them to us and we won't get ugly!"
Obviously a lie.
"I don't know what you're talking about!" Came a Rodian's voice. "I haven't stolen anything from anyone."
"That's what you'd like us to believe, isn't it?" Another Sith was inside, interrogating the Rodian.
"Maybe the Rodian really didn't steal anything." Carth suggested. The Sith outside shook his head.
"Of course he did! We have him on camera." He said.
"I didn't steal anything!" The Rodian pleaded. "Please help me!"
"Alright," Connan said, sighing. "Leave that Rodian alone, please."
"A polite rebel?" A third Sith showed up. "I shall enjoy pulling out your entrails."
"A rude Sith?" Connan mocked. "I do believe I am shocked."
The two Sith thugs drew their blasters and prepared to fire at Connan. She shoved Carth out of the way and ducked.
"My turn." She said. She flipped over them, pulling something out of her tool belt pocket and throwing the circular objects at them in the process. She landed behind them and knelt onto her knees. The objects smashed onto the floor soon after, sending an explosion through the ground.
Carth felt the repercussions of the force, bending his knees to keep his balance.
The two Sith fell onto the ground, dead.
"Ha!" Connan snarled at them, fixing her brown hair behind her. "That'll teach you to mess with a technician."
"What did you do to them?" Carth carefully walked around them, wary of them still being alive.
"I used grenades. There's no use to waste all that energy in battle if you can just use grenades on them." Connan brought out four frag grenades, each occupying a spot between her fingers. Lazily, she rotated each one from finger to finger, knowing if she dropped one it would mean doom for everyone within five feet of her.
"That's cheap," Carth murmured under his breath. She smiled at him.
"All I do is survive; I don't care how." She straitened her new combat armor and sauntered into the room, where the Sith leader was still interrogating the Rodian.
"How did you kill the others so easily?" He asked them, astonished. Carth pointed to Connan, who just laughed.
"No matter, you won't get past me." The Sith continued, pulled out a vibrosword.
"Fine," Connan sighed. "Sith are annoying."
"Can I take over?" Jishin asked hopefully. "I want to fight him! Please?"
"Alright, sure." Connan allowed Jishin control of their body. Jishin pulled out two vibroswords and flipped them around.
"You're going to fight this one down?" Carth asked, a little agitated.
"Sure, why not? Want to help?" Jishin was already hitting the Sith and blowing him some damage. Carth willingly joined, only too happy to be doing something.
Jishin battled with a fierceness often not seen in people. Her attacks were precise and to the point, and she often feigned moves to gain the upper hand.
In a matter of minutes the Sith was lying dead on the floor and Connan had scavenged their bodies, taking their credits, valuables, and Sith armor.
"Thank you so much!" The Rodian pleaded. "I thought for sure they would have found their stuff."
"Anytime," Connan nodded her head. "So you really did steal uniforms?"
The Rodian nodded.
"I'm to give them to Gadon Thek, a gang leader of the Hidden Beks." The Rodian clarified. "But you can keep those you have for yourself. Now: how can I repay you?"
"You don't have to do anything; I just enjoyed getting to fight." Connan put a hand behind her head and laughed. "Oh, wait." Her mind clicked as she thought of something. "Do you have a tin flute?"
"A tin flute?" The Rodian repeated. "They're only used for—"
"I know who they're used for, but I need one." Connan explained.
"I'm sad to say that I don't have one in my possession." Connan snapped her fingers. "Forgive me."
"We'll have to look elsewhere." Jishin conceited.
"We need one soon; my fingers are aching." Connan whined.
"That's alright," She said out loud. "You'd better go before someone else comes."
"Right! And thanks again." The Rodian left the room, and Connan soon followed.
Carth blew off the remark about the tin flute; she probably wanted it for pawning. They needed the credits.
Connan and Carth didn't find much of anything in the rest of the apartments, so they began wandering the streets of Taris, looking for the cantina.
"Is something wrong with Carth?" Connan asked her other, glancing at the man. His face was contorted into a frown, and he didn't seem to be focusing on any one thing.
"Talk to him and find out," Jishin crossed her arms.
"Hey, Carth?" Connan stopped walking and turned to face him. He stopped, watching her in annoyance. "You seem kind of… out there. Is something wrong?"
"Well," Carth placed a hand on his hips. "It's you."
Connan raised her eyebrows and slightly backed up, surprised at his reply.
"What about me?" She asked.
"We've been here for hours and you've yet to ask me anything other than before in the base. I find that a little disturbing." He explained his predicament, waving his arms around.
"What an arrogant remark," Jishin giggled. She grabbed a hold of Connan's vocal cords and said very flirtingly, "Whoa, do women often ask about Captain Carth Onasi of the Mandalorian Wars?"
Jishin released her vocals and allowed Connan to continue, right when the woman burst out laughing. She held her stomach to try and control the heaving, and she clamped a hand over her mouth.
"Very funny, Jishin." She commented.
Carth looked taken aback, like he instantly regretted what he said. "I didn't mean it like—I mean—you must—"
"Easy Onasi, it was a joke." Connan regained her composure and brushed her hair behind her. "And I didn't really think you'd want to talk about anything. You seemed like such a serious person."
Another joke, but Carth didn't take it that way.
"I am not!" He replied, making Connan push the hand back up to her mouth. Carth suddenly realized what he said. "What—I didn't mean that—damn you, woman!"
"Okay, okay. Enough joking. What was it?" Connan grinned.
"Well," Carth started once again. "I'd like to know what happened on the ship—from your point of view."
"We weren't in a position to know what was going on." Connan replied.
"We?" Carth repeated.
"Uh, Trask and I." Connan made the idea up as she spoke it. "He woke me up from my—sleep." She hesitated when she said sleep. As she had been for the last four months, Connan had been meditating at the time, using the valuable resting time to practice with Jishin and research things.
"It just seems strange. What did you do on the ship, anyway?" Carth asked.
"I was the head technician, and provided music for everyone." Connan answered. Bragging about herself brought a smile to her face.
"Music?" Carth repeated like a parrot.
"I'll have to show you sometime," Connan said, snapping her fingers, hoping he would change the subject.
"But it seems odd to me that you were added at the last second onto the crew—and by the Jedi no less." Carth stated.
Connan scoffed, folding her arms tighter onto her chest. "What would a Jedi want with me?" She said coldly.
Another snide comment about Jedi. Maybe Bastila would clear things up about Connan's evasivenesswhen they found her.
"All I'm saying is that you were added very late, and then we were attacked soon after." Carth shrugged.
"Yeah," Jishin snarled. "Four months after we came on." Connan nodded, confusing Carth.
"Are you saying I had something to do with it?" Connan asked, turning to face Jishin.
"He can't mean that. We weren't even awake to know what was happening!" She pleaded with her twin.
"I know that, Connan." Jishin clarified.
"You have to admit it does seem that way." Carth reinforced. Connan's temper fired up.
"Is your head missing screws?" She asked, moving her wrist like she was knocking on an imaginary door. "I was asleep when the Sith attacked. I couldn't have contacted them in my sleep. And besides, why would I have killed those Sith back there?"
"There are strange motives driving the Sith; you tell me." Carth sneered.
"Yeah, and why are you so mistrusting as to accuse me of being a Sith?" Connan asked, her voice more like a growl.
"I have my reasons." Carth said. "But I always expect the unexpected. And I hate surprises."
"That's impossible." Connan smirked, clearly confusing him once more.
"What's not possible?" Carth asked, sighing.
"To expect the unexpected." She continued afterCarth's blank face suggested ignorance. "If a one-winged shyrack came flopping out of the cantina beating that Gordon Colu guy with a bat, would you have expected it?" Connan managed to keep a strait face while saying that. Carth cocked an eyebrow.
"Well, no, but—"
"Then how, pray tell, can you expect the unexpected when you don't even expect that?" Connan winked.
"I guess… you can't…." Carth rolled his eyes.
"And therein lies your answer." Connan explained, flicking a finger at her male partner. "Since it's impossible to expect the unexpected, just don't be surprised when it comes. Shit happens. Mostly to me, so you're in trouble."
Carth just stared at the woman. How did this conversation get from joking about being serious to expecting the unexpected?
"Nice lecture, Connan!" Jishin applauded. "Where did we learn it?"
"I don't remember…."
"Yeah, let's just leave it at the fact that I don't trust people." Carth said, unable to admit Connan was right.
"And, you don't want to talk about it?" Connan pushed.
"Not after this interrogation, no. Maybe later but I don't want to talk about it right now! Let's just get back to the task." Carth began making his way to the cantina.
"Touchy one, that one is," Jishin said, following Carth and walking into the cantina.
"You could say that again," Connan replied. She sat down at the bar, slapping her hand on the table to get the bartender's attention. "Get me Tarisian Ale,"
"Uh, just a hit a juma for me," Carth said, thanking the nodding tender. He turned to Connan. "Are you sure you want Tarisian Ale? It's very strong."
"I know that," Connan smirked. "Why do you think I got it?"
The bartender instantly came back with their drinks.
"Thanks," Connan handed him the credits they owed and chugged down the Ale, making Carth gape. When she set the large cup down, the ale was gone.
"Wow," Carth mumbled. "You're going to get sick."
Connan chuckled.
"You'd be surprised." Her eyes wandered around, looking for the Bith band that usually played to keep the customers under control. Seeing none, she asked the bartender about it.
"They all left. They suddenly got very popular, and shipped out just before the Sith Quarantine. Lucky, if you ask me." The tender said. "But now we need a band,"
"What luck!" Connan stood. "I'll play. What's the pay for one hour?"
"One hundred credits." The man's voice hardened as he wiped the ale cup free of germs and placed the towel back over his blue shirt.
"Five hundred." Connan's voice met his. She rested an elbow closer towards him and nudged up to lower her tone.
"Two hundred."
"Four-fifty."
"Four seventy-five."
"Done!" Connan slapped her hand on the table, signing the deal. She smiled as she heard the man swear under his breath. "I just need a tin flute."
"A tin flute?" The bartender stopped. "What are you, a Celtic?"
"What?" Carth stared at Connan as she folded her arms. "What's a Celtic?"
"They're a race of people gifted from birth with music." Connan clarified.
"They say the best ones can make stories out of their music, and you can see the plot transform in front of you as they play." The bartender whispered.
"Thank you," Connan closed her eyes and nodded. "But I need a flute."
"I thought Celtics were married to their flute." The bartender clarified, sarcastic words dripping from him vilely. "Or was I mistaken?"
"We treasure our tin flutes as much as our lives, but I'm afraid mine had been destroyed recently." Connan's voice almost started cracking.
She must mean it blew up on the Endar Spire, Carth thought.
The bartender bent below to the cabinetsunder the counter and rummaged around until he pulled out a brass-looking flute.
"Here you are, it hasn't been used much, so be careful." Connan took the flute and held it up to her face, measuring it and dusting it off. Then she placed it up to her mouth—her hands to the side, holding the tin flute like a regular one—and played a scale as quietly as she could.
"This will do fine." She flicked it towards him, then turned to Carth. "You can watch if you want, though I have no doubt you'll be able to hear it anyway."
Ten minutes later, the bartender appeared on the stage, quieting everyone.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we have a special treat for you here tonight. A Celtic woman, who wants to play something for you. Here she is, Connan Frai!"
Carth watched as Connan walked across the stage and bowed.
"Hello! For those of you who don't know how Celtic music works, you're in for a surprise." She giggled slightly, then placed the tin flute in its place at her mouth.
The story began speedily, and Carth watched as Connan's eyes closed and her fingers became blurry from the speed they flew at.
A picture entered Carth's mind: A woman, in her late teens, saying goodbye to her parents and taking an adventure through the world, to get to her brother's place. With her she took her bow, quiver full of arrows, and a sword.
Connan slowed the pace of her music to a perky, walking music. The woman was walking along a trail, as happy as she could be.
For about five minutes, the music stayed the same, barely changing in the scales she used, but the notes in general were hardly different.
Then the woman ran into trouble; five wolverines and one man trying to save himself from them. Connan's music abruptly switched to a panicky tone, one that assumed sure peril.
Carth's heart began to beat faster. Would the woman die? Would the man die? He shifted in his chair and wiped his brow clean or perspiration. The music really was great; he felt like he was in the story himself, watching the woman as she faced certain doom.
As expected in any story, the woman slew the animals and became friends with the man. He escorted her to her brother's, turning the music into a slow, talkative one.
Carth watched as Connan's music ranged from slow, romantic tunes to harsh and brash evil scenes. In the end, the woman and the man she saved—now her lover, were trying to defeat the bad man.
The bad man was in love with the woman, and was trying to seduce her to his cause. The music changed from dark and evil to light and jumpy to separate the conversation between the two. The woman refused to turn, and enraged the bad man into attacking her lover. In a desperate attempt to save him, the woman pushed the bad man out of the way and over a cliff, but not before suffering the sword wound in the ribs.
Everyone in the cantina—which Carth noticed had grown considerably in the last hour—had gasped at that part, envisioning the death of the woman.
The man held her as she lay dying, trying to heal her. It was of no use, because the woman died seconds later.
In a world of hurt, the man buried the woman and laid an engraved stone above her underground body. Before leaving the woman to her eternal resting, the man whispered his final goodbyes. Carth heard them ringing through his ears for hours after the music ceased.
"You aren't gone from me; I'll find you someday, my love."
The story ended that the man arrived at the brother's place once again—the place their journey began—and lived with the brother for the rest of his days.
The tin flute left Connan's lips, and the tears streamed willingly down her face. No one in the cantina moved, including Carth. All were afraid to ruin the moment.
At long last, Connan grinned from ear to ear and bowed, signaling the end of her saga.
The applause that erupted from the crowd was deafening to be the bluntest. Everyone was trying to out-scream everyone else, and they cheered for an encore. Carth found himself among the best of them, clapping his hands together and shouting "Encore!" along with everyone else.
But Connan refused, bowing once more and stepping off of the stage. Many people blocked her way from the bar where Carth resided, and it took Connan many moments before she could find her way to him.
"There you go. Celtics in their finest." She shrugged, handing the bartender—who was still wiping the tears from his wrinkled face—the tin flute.
"That was—that was amazing! I never knew anyone could do that." Carth stuttered, looking desperately for more encouraging words.
The bartender, in the meantime, refused the tin flute. "You keep it," He said. "You seemed to enjoy it so much, and no one around here knows how to use it."
"Really?" Connan's eyes lit up and she grinned in gleeful surprise. "Thank you so much!"
The man rummaged around in his tattered, stained, used-to-be-white apron pocket and offered Connan credits. Two thousand credits.
"Wait—" Connan put her hands up, carefully avoiding any harm to her new/old tin flute. "We said four hundred seventy-five. That's a lot more than that."
"I know that," The man said, putting it on the table and pushing toward her. "But that was magnificent! Much better than the Biths that used to play here. And their pay was less than four hundred seventy-five credits a day."
"Well, we do need the extra cash…." Connan explained to herself, looking at Jishin for confirmation.
"I think we should take it." Her other said. "There are a lot of people out there we still need to help."
"Alright," Connan surrendered, placing the much-appreciated credits into her pack. "Now, I'm going to need another glass of Tarisian Ale."
"Another?" Carth asked. "You chugged down the first one in three seconds."
"Ai," Connan said, an accent similar to an Irishman's masquerading in her voice. "'T'is another faithful Celtic curse." The giggles erupting from her slightly miffed Carth. She hadn't acted like that before, when they were in the apartments.
The bartender gave her the wanted drink and she passed him the credits for it. She drank this one more slowly, savoring the taste as it drizzled down her throat.
"So how did you get the guy to talk?" Carth asked her. "No other dialogue was that clear in the story."
Connan choked down the Ale she just drank and slapped her chest, trying to set it down. After her surprised fit of coughs, she looked around the cantina, her eyes desperate for a distraction.
"Oh, look! That guy's playing pazaak. I think I'll play, too." She ensnared the rest of the Ale in her mouth and swallowed it as she got up and left the bar.
Great, Carth thought. What did I do now?
"Wow," The bartender wiped the table off where she had accidentally spewed Ale. "Touchy subject, no doubt."
"What was that about?" Carth asked the man, jabbing his thumb in the woman now buried in praise and pazaak.
"I don't know, but she obviously didn't want to talk about it. Bad memory, I guess." The bartender shrugged.
"So the perfect musician-slash-technician does have secrets," Carth murmured, a sly grin crossing his face. He got up and drove through the pile of people blocking his way to Connan.
"Hey, Frai." He barked, making her look up. She was giving the man money. "Time to go."
She said her goodbyes to the man and left.
"How many credits did you give him?" Carth asked as they made their way back to the apartments, the moon high above them. Connan smiled, an embarrassed laugh escaping her lips.
"Not much," She hesitantly said, placing her hands on the back of her neck and walking ahead of him.
"How much, Frai?" Carth restated, more sternly.
"Four hundred credits…." Connan instantly took off running, the captain trailing right behind her, shouting unkind things at her. She laughed the whole way to the apartments.
"Frai! You wasted four hundred of our valuable credits on pazaak? How could you even think to play if you're that bad at it? Get back here!"
THE END!
Wow that was a long chapter. I know: she's starting to sound like a Mary Sue. But that's one of the points to the story. It'll make sense later on; I haven't even started on the hard part yet. It'll all get better once Bastila joins the group.
For those of you who care, I'm going to make this a trilogy, and I'm going to seriously mess with the plot of Knights of the Old Republic II. And another thing for those caring people, wherever or whoever they may be: I'm writing a one-shot based on the sequel to "Just Like Me". The sequel itself will be called "Hide And Seek", but the one-shot will have a different title. Be on the look-out!
Now, please review people! I'll have the next chapter out soon, and it will either be this next chapter or the one after that I get Bastila in it.