Chapter Two: Crash Landing on Ferris

Thane really hated this habit of waking up and finding a man in his room rather than a beautiful woman. Granted, it had only happened twice now, but that was two times too many. At least this Garth looked like he could do something in a fight which was more than Thane could say for Tictac, much more.

Groaning as he sat up, Thane looked first at Garth, then at the large window, and then at Garth again.

"Where're we?" He slurred. His tongue felt like it was too big for his mouth and his head was fit to explode. Wonderful.

"Oh, you're awake," Garth said in his sad tone. "I was almost ready to give up hope."

"You sound upset that I lived."

"Oh no, it's not that," Garth said to the wall. From Thane's vantage point, the other man looked ready to cry. He frowned and shook his head. Idiots, everywhere he went, idiots.

"You still didn't answer my question." Thane had attempted to stand but quickly realized that it was a very bad idea. Flopping back down on the small bed (was the entire galaxy against him? Geez…) Thane closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. This hangover had better pass quickly.

"We're on Ferris, a planet of slackers, con artists, and carnival people."

Thane shuddered. "I hate clowns. They give me the willies."

Garth turned to look at Thane (which the other man didn't see as he was concentrating very hard on not vomiting) and frowned even deeper, if possible.

"Don't worry, they live in the Undercity. We probably won't run into them."

When the latest wave of nausea passed, Thane risked a glance at the other man.

"Oh, I wouldn't count on that. I have a feeling that we'll be facing the clowns very soon."

"What makes you say that?"

"Call it a hunch." Thane laid back down and pulled a blanket over his head, blocking out the light.

When Thane deemed it safe to continue speaking, he did so through the blanket, his words coming out muffled. "So, what happened? Last thing I remember is finding a stash of juice on the escape pod."

Garth chuckled which nearly made Thane fall off the bed in his surprise. Instead, he gagged and clapped a hand over her mouth. That was too close for comfort.

"While you were having the time of your life, I was busy trying to steer the pod. We nearly exploded coming into the atmosphere, an explosion that would have lit up the night sky in a spectacular display of fire."

"Not to mention human body parts," Thane croaked. "Get on with it without the dramatics."

Garth grunted. "After you had consumed enough alcohol to completely cover the floor of the pod with bottles, you pushed me out of the way and took hold of the controls yourself. We tumbled through the sky, barely missing the towers and spires of the city," Garth sounded ready to break out into song. "You were laughing, absolutely enjoying yourself as we faced death again, and again, and again. Just when I didn't think my poor broken heart could take it anymore, you decided to land. After bouncing several times—I think you might have squished several people—we finally skidded to a halt. Having both passed out from the alcohol and from hitting your head on the console, I dragged you out of the wreckage and into this apartment. I doubted that you would ever wake up and figured that I would be stranded here among the Sith for the rest of my wretched life."

Thane blinked under the blanket. That had been quite a story. It could have made a great song of tragedy and loss set to the sound of a lonely guitar, Garth's voice… Thane shook his head. What the hell was he thinking about that for? Scrubbing at his face, he threw the blanket to the floor and sat up, no longer nauseous. His ability to get over a hangover often surprised even himself.

Leaning forward on his knees, Thane stumbled across the room and leaned against the window, looking over the city.

"So what do we do now? Wait around until the Republic bothers to come looking for us? Join the Sith? Kill them all?"

"We get to go find the Jedi. Her escape pod crashed somewhere in the city." Garth waved his hand in an all encompassing gesture and Thane frowned.

"Don't tell me…"

"Brazilla?"

"A monster of a Jedi who can drink you under the table and look good while doing it. Aren't we a couple of lucky bastards."

Garth was silent for a moment and it wasn't until Thane turned to look at him that he said something.

"I seem to sense a tragic theme here."

"You mean that everything seems about as alcohol centered as a college student?"

"Exactly." Even though it was a single word, Garth managed to put all of the troubles of the galaxy into it. "What a horrible way to live life."

"Eh," Thane said in disagreement. "It's not so bad."

The two looked at each other before their eyes darted away to opposite sides of the apartment. Staring at these men he woke up to was another habit Thane had to break, and quick like. Maybe looking for this Jedi wouldn't be so bad. She was female, after all.

With that as a booster, Thane looked around for his sword. "We should get going before she gets into trouble."

"I thought you wanted to leave her to her fate?" Garth rose one brow as he followed Thane around the room with his eyes.

"A hot, drinking female Jedi is better than a tragic male Republic soldier any day."

"I sense a hidden insult."

"Then you're smarter than I originally took you for."

"Hey…" Garth frowned as he stood up. Though he was just about as tall as Thane, he was nowhere near as well muscled, a fact Garth noticed right away. His sigh was tragic as he checked the blaster at his hip. "That wasn't very nice."

"Okay, Garth, you're forcing me to retract my previous statements."

Garth looked slightly hopeful, though he wasn't sure why this man's opinion meant so much to him. "How so?"

"You're an absolute genius."

Garth frowned. "You really are a horrible person, no matter what you might think or claim."

"Oh, so you're turning this into a battle of the wits?" Thane stood at his full height and furrowed his brow, becoming an absolutely terrifying thing to look at. Garth seemed to stare for a moment, something about the posture slightly familiar.

"No," Garth said simply without emphasis.

Thane went on. "Remember, I'm a smuggler and to be a smuggler you have to have a wit like you wouldn't believe."

"I'm sure you do," Garth said as Thane went on. He, on the other hand, started to gather up an impossible amount of equipment. It all went into a pack on his utility belt that looked as if it would hold maybe ten stimshots rather than several weapons, medpacs, those stimshots, some additional clothing and armor, and what have you. Thane had already clipped a similar bundle onto his own belt before beginning his rant; neither man thought anything of it as if a bottomless, well organized pack was nothing out of the ordinary.

Garth looked up as Thane fell silent. "Are you done now?"

"Yeah." Thane said as he held up his sword, ready for action.

"Then let's go find this Jedi."

Thane looked at Garth, surprised that his last few statements hadn't held the weight of the galaxy behind them. Maybe he wouldn't be so bad after all. Shaking the thought from his head, he hit the door release and left the apartment. After running around in a large circle and breaking into all of the other apartments (and placing what valuables he found into his bottomless pack), Thane found the exit. He ignored the alien trying to sell him junk and ran through the door.

What seemed like hours later (even though he did nothing but exit the apartment complex) Thane found himself on the street. There were Sith everywhere to be seen as well as the native human population who called themselves Buellers. While most simply lived out their lives, the planet of Ferris had the reputation for breeding con artists and slackers. Those folk, however, were mostly confined to the Lower City where rival gangs ruled the streets. While he knew he could take on both gangs single-handedly, Thane didn't feel like dealing with them if he could avoid it. However, that little voice of reason in the back of his head (the one he usually blatantly ignored) told him that he would be running around this planet like a headless chicken from the sewers below the Undercity to hangers way up in the sky.

"Wonderful," he muttered.

"Pardon?"

"Nothing," Thane growled. Taking in a breath to calm himself down, he glanced at his companion. "So, how do you suggest we go about this?"

"We should probably be careful when talking to people since we don't want to get Brazilla in anymore trouble than she may already be in. We should probably avoid using the words Jedi, escape pod, Republic…" Garth went on before Thane cut him off by turning to a passing woman.

"Hey, have you seen a Jedi woman around? Tall, tan, hot? She came crashing out of the sky in an escape pod after the Bed Liner was attacked."

"That was subtle," Garth said behind Thane. The statement earned him a good punch in the shoulder.

The woman Thane had turned to looked as if she hadn't heard a word he had said. Instead, she was eyeing the tattoo on his forearm and the sword clipped to his belt. Had Thane not been in a foul mood, he would have acted on this attention. However, seeing as he was completely sober and annoyed with his companion, he wasn't in the mood for games, possibly sexual or not. Without another word, he spun on his heel and decided against talking to any other woman. Garth jogged after him and grabbed Thane's shoulder. Taking offense, Thane turned around and held up his fist, ready to throw a punch before he recognized Garth.

"Don't do that unless you're cruisin' for a bruisin'." Dropping his fist, Thane blinked and frowned deeply. "Did I just say what I thought I said?"

Garth nodded.

"Damn." Turning around, Thane shook his fist at the sky. A furrow creased Garth's brow.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing," Thane said as he aimed a rather dirty look upwards before turning back to Garth. "Now, what were you saying before I stopped that woman?"

"That we should be careful."

"Oh yeah, right, right," Thane said absently as he noticed a group of drunk men. "Maybe they can help."

"How in heaven's name could they help us out of our desperate situation? It's already doubtful that we'll find our lost Jedi and talking to a group of drunkards will hardly help us." Ah, there was the Garth Omen Thane knew and despised.

"If anything they'll know where a bar is."

"Again, how will that help us?"

Thane held out his wrist and pointed to a meter. The dial was hovering over a patch of red, indicating that Thane's blood-alcohol level was dangerously low. "If you expect me to be able to function well, I'll need to get to a bar right soon."

Garth rocked back on his heels and eyed Thane up and down.

"You really are a work of art."

"Well, it was either alcohol or coffee and since there are more bars around the galaxy than there are Starbucks, it was the more logical choice."

Garth rose his brow in question. "You're sure about that?"

"Not anymore, no." Thane said as he scratched at his stubble. "At least alcohol won't give me a heart attack or the jitters."

"But it could poison you."

"Six of one," Thane said over his shoulder as he approached the group of drunks.

"Heeeyyou," one of the man slurred, attempting to point at Thane. "Irknow-you. Yer'face wass plasst…turd all over the nnnnewws."

Thane suddenly started to rethink talking to these men. They were obviously well past the point of being able to help him. However, as his BAR (blood-alcohol reminder) was starting to vibrate and ring, he figured they could at least point him in the direction of the bar they had come from. If he got a word in, that was. The man just continued on talking.

"Yer tha-that warrr heeereeooo turrnnndd baa-guyyy. Wassz hisz name… 'Eee'arss a bigg-gg J-Jeeedii." As his words became more and more incomprehensible, Garth and Thane started to exchange glances. What the hell was this man talking about?

"Reelle-Reelle—" And the man passed out. His companions chuckled and looked at Thane, shrugging.

"Don' min' 'im," one of the other men said. He was just as hard to understand as the first man had been. " 'E tells taaall taleess when 'e drinksss." He blinked. "Iss thar som'thin' I can 'elp you wif?"

"Nearest bar," Thane said, quite stunned. He certainly did not like drunk men accusing him of being a Jedi, let alone Relevant, the recently-killed, big bad guy of the current war. However, he had to admit that this Relevant must have been a handsome devil if people were mistaking him, Thane Sunrider, yadda yadda yadda, for the Dark Lord, but he still didn't like it in the least.

"Oooohh," the drunkard said, lifting his arm and pointing north. "Thhadaway. Big blinkin' llighs'. You can' misssit."

"Cheers," Thane said as he turned around and walked very quickly away from the group of men. Garth followed and eventually asked him what that was about.

"How the hell should I know? If you're asking me if I'm Darth Relevant, I'm not. I don't even know what this guy looks like, only that he was supposedly killed a couple of weeks ago. Before that I was too drunk to watch the news." Thane shrugged. "The Republic really helped me out of the funk I found myself in. Hell, I don't much of anything about the past several years."

This fact did not seem to alarm Thane as much as it did Garth who, despite his appearance and personality, was something of a smart guy. He was no genius, but there were brains in his head. However, Garth could not get his mind around the thought that his companion could be anything other than a drunk, vulgar smuggler recruited by the Republic to do God knows what. Besides, the truth couldn't possibly be revealed so early in the story, so Garth left it at that. As did Thane, apparently, who was making a beeline straight for the bar, the lights calling him like an insect to a flame. He didn't realize that Garth had paused some meters back and that the Republic soldier-country-western star wannabe was now running to catch up to him.

As soon as Thane stepped into the bar (after another seemingly endless wait in limbo the moment he stepped through the doors) he stopped and took in a deep breath. There was nothing like the sour smell of sweaty bodies and alcohol to get the blood pumping. Cracking his knuckles, Thane headed straight for the bartender in order to refuel.