Chapter Three: Going Down

"Ugh, couldn't you have chosen something pleasant smelling?" Garth asked as Thane wrapped an arm around his shoulders, breathing in his face. The smuggler grinned stupidly and leaned most of his weight on the other man. Garth frowned and leaned as far away as possible, which was hard considering the current situation.

"Oh, I dunno," Thane said with a grand gesture. "Sometimes you need somethin' a little stronger." Pulling his wrist very close to his face, his grin widened. "There, my blood-alcohol level is in a good place. I should be fine for the next several hours."

"Only several?"

"As in five or so." Thane shrugged as he let go of his companion. "Some men need food and water; others, like me, need alcohol. It's just the way I was born. Sue me."

They were now walking around the streets of Ferris looking for some clue as to where their lost Jedi had gotten herself off to. And despite the amount of alcohol Thane had consumed, Garth was quite impressed with the man. He wasn't stumbling around or yelling at the other pedestrians. Instead, he was quite pleasant and seemed fairly normal. Maybe what he had said about the alcohol was true. In any case, he was far more pleasant to be around now than he had been a couple of hours ago (as in: before they went into the bar). They had even managed to get some information about the other escape pod. Apparently it had crashed down in the Undercity. Thane had cursed quite magnificently when he found out.

"Clowns," he muttered, even now. "I can't stand bleedin' clowns."

"What about the rats? They're pretty dangerous, too, you know," Garth said, trying to get the other man's mind off the carnival folk.

"Meh," Thane grunted with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Mutant rats are nothing to squeal about. Besides, they're fairly common—every big city has them."

"Maybe, but not this type," Garth shrugged. "If they attack you, you become one."

"Again, what's new?"

"These rats used to be clowns."

Thane shuddered at the very prospect. "Do we really have to find this Jedi? I mean, I'm sure she's looking for whatever bumbling idiots happened to find their way off the Bed Liner as we speak, meaning us. Shouldn't we just wait in the apartment. You know, stay put? …And away from the mutant clown-rats?"

"Are you going to scream like a little girl when we go to the Undercity?" Garth had a hint of laughter in his voice and a sparkle in his eye. The tone made Thane nervous; Garth was supposed to be dramatic and tragic, not laughing. However, he couldn't bother himself with a slightly tweaked character, he had his dignity to worry about.

"No, no I'm not. I never scream. Never have, never will. Instead I'll probably cower." Thane gave Garth a lopsided grin that wasn't quite humorous. "Phobias are a serious thing, Omen, not something to joke about. They're also usually irrational."

"And I suspect your case is different? Was your father killed by a clown while you were sitting in his lap, watching a show under the Big Top?" That about-to-break-out-into-song tone returned to Garth's voice. "How tragic."

Thane lifted a brow at Garth.

"No," he said. "Mine is just as irrational as the next."

"Oh," Garth seemed disappointed. "Too bad."

Thane grunted and stopped in front of a Sith soldier. Garth looked around, just now realizing that they had entered a building and were now standing in front of a turbolift.

"Permission slips?" The soldier asked.

Thane titled his head to one side. "Eh?"

"Permission slips. No one goes down without a signed permission slip."

"Do you have any to spare?" Thane asked, looking around the soldier and at the doors.

The man sighed dramatically and dug into a pouch at his waist. "There are always people who lose theirs. It's like clockwork, I tell ya'."

"Yeah, you tell us," Thane said as he glanced at his slip. "We'll be seeing you."

He mock soluted the soldier before running off. Coming to a halt just around the corner and outside the building, he grabbed Garth as the other man went running by.

"Oi, you got a pen?" Thane asked, examining the slip.

"Yeah, why?"

"Forgery. It's a skill."

"It's also illegal."

Thane looked up at Garth as if he had said the stupidest thing ever to reach his ears, which he had. Pointing at himself, Thane looked ready to smack Garth over the side of the head, which he did.

"Smuggler, dumbass."

"Oh. Right." Garth said as he rubbed at the side of his head. Glancing at Thane's outstretched hand for a moment, he reached into his jacket and reluctantly pulled forth a pen. "You know, going to jail won't help us find Brazilla. They'll probably just ask us a whole bunch of questions before laughing at us for doing something so immature as forging a signature."

Thane shrugged and held out his hand for Garth's slip, which the other man immediately held up. Looping and dotting his way across the dashed line at the bottom of the page, he retracted the pen's nib and handed it back to Garth. Before he gave up the other slip, however, Thane folded each sloppily and crumpled up the corners.

"What was that for?" Garth asked, accepting both his pen and the slip.

"Just a trick I learned back in the days of smuggling school." Thane said with a shrug. "It makes it look authentic."

"Yes, because I'm sure they expect us to forge our parent's signature in order to skip school." Despite all of his protesting, Garth slipped the slip into his jacket's inner pocket before looking to Thane for direction. "So what do we do now?"

"Wait for a shift change." As he said this, Thane leaned against the wall and glanced at his wrist chrono. Closing his arms over his chest and crossing his legs at the ankle, he looked around the street-plaza they were standing in.

"That could be hours away!" Garth whined.

"It could be."

"What does that mean?"

As if on cue (which was awfully convenient, of course), a Sith soldier passed them, walking towards the other soldier. After a brief exchange of words that Thane could not make out, another soldier (presumably the one they had just talked to) walked out of the building. Thane pointed at the man's back and looked at Garth.

"That's what it means."

Garth blinked several times as he watched the retreating back of the Sith. "How in Heaven's name…?"

"Call it a sixth sense. I have a lot of them and that, well, that's one I've picked up over the years. Also, there was a schedule on the inside door of a locker that the soldiers had left open in the wall next to the lift."

"Oh."

"Observation is another talent required of smugglers."

"Yes, I would imagine so."

Thane simply smiled, obviously proud of himself. Patting Garth on the back, he turned the corner and headed straight for the new soldier.

"Permission slips?" The soldier asked, his voice oddly similar to the last guy's. Thane just wrote it off as two brothers who happened to be posted on the same world. But anyway…

Holding up his forged slip and clearing his throat so that Garth would do the same, he smiled at the soldier.

"There you are, two genuine permission slips."

The soldier took them, glanced at them, and nodded at them.

"Everything seems to be in order here. Move along."

"Wonderful. Thank you." Thane shoved the slip into his pocket and walked past the soldier and into the lift. Garth followed, obviously guilty about something. The soldier took no notice.

Once they were safely on their way down, Garth turned to look at Thane. The other man shifted slightly under the gaze before turning and staring back.

"Whaddaya looking at?"

"Nothing," Garth replied, turning to look at the lift doors.

"No, that wasn't a looking-at-nothing look. Do I have something on my face?"

Garth shook his head. "I've seen you somewhere before, I'm sure of it."

"Well, unless it was in some bar or cantina, I doubt it."

"No, it was somewhere else."

"Right," Thane said, glancing at Garth, further convinced his companion was insane. "In any case, we're nearly there. Do you know anything this place?"

"Only that there are two competing gangs running around the Lower City, fighting for control."

"That's a pretty significant piece of information." Thane turned fully to Garth and closed his arms over his chest. "Care to go on?"

"I don't know much about them," Garth shrugged. However, catching the look Thane threw his way, he continued. "They are pretty different groups of people, as I'm sure is obvious. The Dark Vulcans are emotionless and kind of creepy and the Sneaky Beckers are heartless and cold. I wouldn't want to associate with either of them but if I had my choice I'd go with the Beckers."

"Why?"

"Because they aren't creepy…or so I've been told."

"That's some wonderful advice, Thane said as the lift stopped. "Hopefully we won't have to deal with any of them."

However, as luck would have it, the two men stepped right into the middle of a brawl the moment they stepped off the lift. It appeared to be three against three in a not-so-impressive fight. Thane had seen women do a better job. Despite that, it was quickly over. The three victorious men turned to look at Garth and Thane and a shiver shot up Thane's spine. These must be the Vulcans. Garth was right, they were creepy. With bowl cut hair, pointy ears, and emotionless faces, they almost seemed out of place. That didn't stop them from looking our two heroes up and down, however, as if calculating their chances in a fight.

"Hows about letting us pass," Thane said, rubbing at the back of his head. He could take them in a fight, that much was obvious, but he just didn't feel like getting physical at the moment, at least not in this way.

The Vulcan in the center shook his head. "That wouldn't be logical."

Thane lifted a brow. "How so?"

"I am not required to tell you why," the creepy guy responded. Thane frowned.

"Do you know who I am?" He threatened. The Vulcans simply looked at each other.

"No, I must say that I don't. Should I?"

"Yeah," Thane said, drawing his sword, Garth responded by lifting his own weapon. "I'm the guy who's gonna kick your ass."

"We shall see about that," the Vulcan said, drawing his own weapon.

Both parties stood there for a moment, looking at each other. Something inside Thane told him not to attack first and he was not quite sure where it was coming from. Why the hell not? He asked himself. Shaking his head, he stepped forward. That was enough to provoke the Vulcans into action.

It took perhaps two minutes for Thane and Garth to defeat the three gang members. After cleaning his sword, Thane looked around, a terrible frown on his face.

"I'd have expected street thugs to be a bit tougher than that." As she said this, he started to loot the dead, shoving what he found in his pouch. He pulled the armor off of one of the larger Beckers and held it up. "You think this would fit me?"

Garth shrugged. "You could try."

And so he did. As if by miracle, the armor fit Thane's massive stature like a dream. He didn't put any mind to it.

"Okay, let's go. I don't want to be caught standing over a bunch of dead bodies."

Without a second glance, Thane ran off and into an apartment complex. Just as he had done in the Upper City, Thane rooted through the apartments, taking what valuables he could find. Garth hardly put up a fight as they left the complex, several fights and a few hundred credits later.

After some time spent in silence as they wandered slowly through the dank streets, Garth spoke up.

"Shouldn't we try to find our way to the Undercity?"

"What do you think I was doing in those apartments? Stealing stuff?" Thane said smoothly.

"Yes, actually," Garth responded.

"Oh, well, in that case… I'm working on it." He pointed at a couple of men that had just appeared. "Maybe they can help."

Garth frowned, obviously doubtful. "Or they might kill us."

"Aren't you just a little ray of sunshine," Thane said as he approached a man with a near identical built. The other man turned to look at the two, a deep frown creasing his features.

"What do you two want; can't you see we're busy?"

"Oh, we'll just wait then," Thane said, again not too keen on getting into a fight.

"We won't be more than a few minutes," the man said. Turning back to the small alien he was talking to, he continued to threaten the pitiful creature before pulling out his blaster and pulling the trigger. Before the alien had fallen to the ground, he turned back to Thane and Garth.

"What can I do for you two?"

"We're looking for a way into the Undercity and were just wondering if you knew how to get down there."

"That's it then?"

"Err…yeah," Thane said, suddenly wary. "Why?"

"Because I'm Canker Ohno."

"And my name is Thane Sunrider," Thane responded. "But you didn't answer my question."

"Sure I did."

Thane furrowed his brow, going over the conversation in his head. "No, no, I'm pretty sure that you didn't."

"Yes I did."

"Children," Garth said, butting into the conversation. Both men turned to look at him, their fists raised. Garth shrunk back as he pointed to himself. "Father."

Thane laughed. "Well that explains everything."

"It does?"

"No." He looked back at Canker and frowned. "Maybe we should start over. I'm looking for a way into the Undercity. Why is none of your concern, but I need to get down there."

Canker frowned even deeper (if possible) before pointing over Thane's shoulder.

"Go talk to the Beckers. They might be able to get you down there. I hear they're looking for a maniac to do some suicidal missions for them. You might just be what they're looking for."

"Great," Thane said, looking Canker in the eye. "I'll consider it."

"There's no other way you're getting down."

"Mhmm," Thane said as he started to back up. "I'm sure there isn't. C'mon, Garth, let's go."

Thane glared once more at Canker before turning around and heading off to find the Sneaky Becker Headquarters.