Chapter Five
Disclaimer: I don't own KotOR.
Revan and company were happily slaughtering their way through the Black Vulkar Base when a girl in the room they had just liberated screamed out, "Don't shoot me!"
"Why would we shoot you?" Revan asked, confused.
"Because she's in the Black Vulkar Base and you seem to have made it your mission in life to cleanse the Base of all life forms and droids that won't stay still long enough for you to reprogram?" Carth hazarded a guess.
Mission rolled her eyes. "Do seriously want him to kill this girl? Because it sounds like you do."
"What?" Carth exclaimed. "Of course not!"
"He really needs to learn that reverse psychology is only effective if the person he's using it on doesn't decide what he actually says is a great idea," Zaalbar commented.
"You guys have no faith in me," Revan complained.
"Should we?" Zaalbar inquired, crossing his arms.
"Probably not," Revan admitted. "But tell me, why should I spare your life?"
"I have no loyalty to any of these people," the girl began.
"So?" Revan raised an eyebrow. "I have no loyalty to…well, anything, really, but I still work with groups on occasion."
"My father owed Davik money so he sold me into slavery and now I'm a waitress for the Vulkars," the girl hastened to explain.
"A 'waitress', huh?" Mission asked skeptically. "Kind of like how those girls at the Cantina were 'dancers'?"
Carth turned a disturbed eye to her. "How old did you say you were again?"
"Fourteen," Mission replied promptly. "Why? Going to call me a 'kid' again?"
"Wouldn't dream of it," Carth promised. "I was just wondering exactly how much whoever raised you failed…"
"I'll have you know that my brother, while he may have abandoned me to run off with his super-bitch girlfriend Lena, did a wonderful job of raising me," Mission sniffed. "And he would never dream of selling me to a swoop gang."
"My father didn't sell me," the hapless 'waitress' tried to correct them. "Davik did."
"And he did nothing to stop them nor offer to go in your place?" Zaalbar cried, outraged. "He really shouldn't have borrowed more credits than he could hope to pay back no matter the circumstances, but if he did it anyway then you should not be the one to pay. Credit debts can eventually be worked off even if it takes years but slavery is forever."
"I know, but my mother was sick so he didn't have much choice," the 'waitress' told them.
"Can everyone except me understand what he's saying?" Carth wondered aloud.
Revan nodded. "Pretty much. And I agree with Zaalbar on this one; I hate slavery."
Carth's eyes widened. "Really? Since when do you have morals?"
"I don't normally," Revan confirmed. "But there's just so much risk and negative PR and it can get really expensive…no, you're much better off underpaying a disenfranchised group or rally them to your cause and convince them to do it for nothing."
Carth nearly fell over. "Wow. That…wow."
"Well, you could always provide fair wages, I suppose," Revan conceded. "But if you're looking into slavery as an option than you probably don't care about workers' rights, do you?"
"So…are you going to kill me or not?" the 'waitress' piped up. "Not that I want you to or anything – far from it – but the suspense is rather killing me."
"You're not going to try to kill us or ask for money or a favor, so why not let you go? It's less effort than killing you anyway," Revan decided.
"Oh, thank you so much!" the 'waitress' exclaimed as she rushed from the room. "I'll never forget your kindness!"
" 'Kindness'?" Revan repeated. "But we didn't even do anything…although if that can be considered doing good, it might not be as bad as I thought…although Carth's definition is still far too troublesome for my tastes."
"And so once again the light side prevails due to Revan's near-complete apathy," Carth muttered.
"I wouldn't recommend goading Revan about that since his apathy appears to be all that standing in the way of him and a galaxy-wide killing spree," Zaalbar cautioned.
"And I would recommend learning how to understand Big Z; he gives some pretty good advice," Mission informed Carth.
"I'm sure he does," Carth said, somewhat patronizingly.
After making their way violently through three more rooms, Revan was once again stopped by a cry of, "Don't shoot me!" This time, however, it came not from an enslaved 'waitress' but from a male green Twi'lek.
"You a 'waitress', too?" Mission asked suspiciously.
"Isn't it a waiter if it's a man?" Carth asked.
Mission snorted. "Not necessarily…"
The Twi'lek started. "No, why would I…you know what? Never mind. I am a Vulkar, true, but I'm part of the old guard. I was a Vulkar back when that used to mean something. Back before Brejik."
"So you joined up before Brejik did," Revan said slowly. "Is that supposed to mean anything to us?"
"Brejik ruined us!" the Twi'lek claimed. "Being a Black Vulkar used to mean something! We used to have principles!"
Carth stared at him. "You were still a member of a swoop gang that's violently feuding with another gang and God help whoever gets in your way."
The Twi'lek nodded. "Yeah, a swoop gang that's violently feuding with another gang and God help whoever gets in our way with principles."
"So why didn't you quit?" Mission asked. "I know the Hidden Beks have a nice retirement plan and if the Black Vulkars didn't have something comparable, no one would join up."
"I'm still three years away from qualifying," the Twi'lek confessed. "Still, I'd rather not die for that Bek traitor so if you could just let me go, that would be great."
"Fine, go, whatever," Revan dismissed him. "I don't see why all these people have to bother me with their pleas for their life. Couldn't they just run when they see me coming?"
"Perhaps they are afraid that if they run you'll shoot them," Zaalbar ventured. "Although, really, they are just as likely to get shot before they could explain why you shouldn't kill them."
"And if they think yelling 'Don't shoot me' will help, why not shout it while running?" Revan agreed. "After all, I really have better things to do than chase down everyone here, especially if they're not liable to attack me. For instance, we still haven't seen anything even remotely resembling that swoop accelerator…"
"Oh, were you looking for the swoop accelerator?" the Twi'lek reached into his pocket and pulled out a pass code. "This will get you into the elevator below where it is actually located."
"Thanks," Revan said, surprised, as he took the proffered card.
"See?" Carth said smugly. "Being good really does pay off."
Revan shrugged. "I wouldn't go that far. Had I killed him, I would have just found it on his corpse."
The Twi'lek gulped. "I'll…just be going then, shall I?" With that, he practically bolted out the door.
"What's his problem?" Mission wondered.
Carth just groaned.
- -
"Don't shoot me!"
Some time later, the wanton slaughter was stopped yet again.
Revan sighed. "Let me guess. You're an enslaved 'waitress.' Or you liked things better before Brejik took over. Or you're an enslaved 'waitress' who was happier before Brejik came along."
The man who had stopped them, who was also a green Twi'lek, looked confused. "No, I'm not. We didn't have any 'waitresses' before Brejik took over, which would, I guess, explain why they'd have been happier before him. Still, I love 'waitresses' and so Brejik running the show really works for me."
"Then why should I spare you?" Revan demanded.
"Because if you don't I'll kill you," the Twi'lek said flatly.
Mission laughed. "You can try."
"My name is Kandon Ark. I'm one of Brejik's chief lieutenants and my job is to guard the swoop accelerator. That is why you're here, is it not?" Kandon asked.
Reluctantly, Revan nodded. "The Hidden Beks won't let us race tomorrow if we don't get it."
"So you're not a Hidden Bek?" Kandon asked. "Good. I suspected as much since you're not dressed like them and don't have a general air of incompetence. What if I told you that you could still race tomorrow without needing to do the Beks dirty work?"
Revan thought about it. "I don't know…would it involve killing the Beks?"
"Well…yes," Kandon admitted. "But they're really not as pure as they'd like you to believe, you know."
"I'll be back in two hours," Revan promised, looking very much like he'd just been told he'd have an opportunity to get his beloved uniforms back. Which he had.
"Why is he the leader again?" wondered Carth, disapproving strongly but not actually bothering to do anything to try and stop him.
- -
This time, the guard at the door didn't even try to stop Revan from entering, which was really too bad as this time he really was out to kill Gadon and everyone else in the Base.
"You're back," Gadon said, sounding somewhat surprised. Apparently he didn't have as much faith in them as he'd claimed. "Did you find the accelerator?"
"I did," Revan nodded.
"And…where is it?" Gadon pressed.
"Still in the Vulkar Base," Revan replied.
Zaerdra smacked her forehead. "I told you we should have just sent one of our guys. He completely forgot he was supposed to steal the accelerator back from the Vulkars, not stare at it and confirm that they had it!"
"That was the plan," Revan agreed. "But then I got a better offer."
"A better offer?" Zaerdra scoffed. "What better offer could you have gotten? You had already broken into the Black Vulkar Base, all you had to do was return our stolen prototype."
"The Vulkars said I could race with them and kill you," Revan explained. "Of course, they seemed to think that wiping all of you out was some sort of required task before they would help me, but I consider this just a win-win situation. Seriously, why don't you like these guys? From what I've seen of them, they're pretty awesome."
"Perhaps because they're trying to kill us," Gadon deadpanned. "But I really don't understand why you're doing this. We were willing to help you and you turn around and betray us…for what? You wouldn't even know where Bastila was if it weren't for us!"
"Why?" Revan laughed. "You ask why? I'll tell you why." He held his blaster up and pointed it right at Gadon. "I liked those uniforms."
Gadon slumped in his chair and all hell broke loose.
Fortunately, the Base was not all that big and no one was expecting an attack in the heart of their territory, so within fifteen minutes everyone there was dead.
"Hey," Mission said brightly when they were nearly finished looting. "I think Big Z found those uniforms you were looking for. I've got to say, even if I don't like the Sith, these uniforms are pretty awesome."
"I know, right?" Revan beamed. "And let me just say that you two are shaping up to be more useful to me than Carth is. And a lot less whiny about trivialities, too."
"Expressing moral outrage every time you want to just leave someone to die or massacre people who have helped us because you want some evil uniforms back is not 'whining about trivialities'!" Carth objected.
"Whatever you say, Carth," Revan said, rolling his eyes.
On their way out of the Base, the guard at the door stopped them. "I trust you were on your best behavior? I don't want to have to hear Zaerdra complain about some sort of Sith uniform fetish again."
"Absolutely," Mission lied.
"If nothing else, we can guarantee you won't be getting any complaints," Zaalbar informed her.
- -
"So tell me again why I have to be the one to do the race?" Revan complained the next day as the race was about to start.
"I would do it," Carth explained, "but I don't trust you not to run off and try to find some other way off the planet while I was gone, leaving me and Bastila in the lurch. Zaalbar's too tall to race and Mission – though she'd kill me for saying this – is too young. That leaves you."
"And the reason you can't stay and watch is…?" Revan pressed.
"Because I don't trust Mission and Zaalbar to stay in one place if left on their own and we really have no way of contacting them," Carth answered easily. "If you win, bring Bastila back to the apartment, okay?"
"And if I lose?" Revan asked curiously.
"If you lose then kill everyone who objects to you rescuing Bastila anyway," Carth instructed.
"So if it's okay to kill everyone standing between me and Bastila, why can't I just do that now and not have to bother with the racing?" Revan demanded.
"Because if there's a chance to avoid another massacre, I'd like to take it," Carth said firmly.
"You are seriously bringing me down, Carth," Revan complained.
Carth rolled his eyes. "I swear to God, you're worse than Dustil." He froze as he realized that he had once again inadvertently alluded to the past that he really didn't want to talk about. Fortunately for him, Revan remained completely and blissfully too self-absorbed to care. Sooner or later he would meet a more observant companion, however, and so he really should try to kick the habit now. "I'll see you after the race."
Revan looked around. Bastila was standing in a cage, looking very out of it. There appeared to be a collar on her, it was probably what was being used to keep them from slaughtering everyone. Should she not manage to break free before he finished the race and thus need to fight his way out with the Jedi, he'd make sure to remember that.
Revan approached the counter. "When am I racing?"
"Who are you?" the man behind the counter asked in turn.
"Revan," Revan introduced. "I'm the Black Vulkars last-minute addition."
"I see…normally you would have to wait a bit, but since the Hidden Beks never showed up I suppose you can race whenever you feel like," the man told him.
"Great," Revan said. "I'll go now then."
He walked over to his pod, got it, and took off. Despite the fact that to the best of his knowledge he had never been involved in a swoop race before, he found it all extremely easy and came in with the fastest time they had ever seen…until less than thirty seconds later someone came in a little over three seconds faster than he had.
"Oh, for Force's sake…" Revan muttered, climbing back into his pod. This time he pushed the pod for every ounce of speed it possessed and easily came in a full eight seconds below his previous time.
"I've never seen someone race that fast!" the man behind the counter gushed. "I don't think anyone else will even touch your time."
And as the racing drew to a close, they didn't. That was good, because if he was totally cheating and STILL couldn't beat those with a normal engine than Carth would never let him hear the end of it.
Brejik moved to stand right in front of the counter and cleared his throat. "Well, the races are over and you all did a fine job. My racer came in second and therefore I will be keeping my prize-"
"Wait, what?" Revan burst out. "I had the first and third best times! I win! Why would you be keeping Bastila?"
"Because you cheated by using an illegal prototype accelerator," Brejik answered easily.
"But I used a swoop racer that you provided," Revan pointed out.
Brejik coughed. "Be that as it may, it's still cheating so I refuse to give you my prize."
"Were you going to do that if anybody else but a Vulkar one?" Revan demanded.
"Probably," Brejik admitted. "But no one who wasn't cheating could have beaten one of my Vulkars so it really doesn't matter, now does it?"
"If you felt that way, why in the world would you put Bastila up as your share of the prize?" Revan wanted to know.
Brejik looked embarrassed. "Well, I thought I would win, you see, and it just seemed like a good idea at the time…"
"You're kind of stupid, aren't you?" Revan asked rhetorically. "I slaughtered all of the Hidden Beks in their own Base, do you really think I can't take you down?"
Brejik scowled. "I guess we'll have to see, won't we?"
"Yes, we will," Bastila agreed, suddenly opening her eyes, removing her collar, and using the Force to throw open her cage.
"You…but we had a neural disruptor on you!" Brejik sputtered.
"And now you don't," Bastila told him. "And now you die."
With those words, an epic skirmish broke out. Everyone who wasn't a Vulkar quickly fled leaving Bastila and Revan with far less opponents than they had expected.
Once the last of the Vulkars were laying dead at their feet, Bastila angrily turned to Revan, "And as for you, if you honestly think you can claim me as your own then I'm going to shove my lightsaber down your throat, you…Revan?!?!"
"You know my name?" Revan asked, brightening. "That is so awesome. I'm not here to 'claim' you, I'm here to rescue you. I understand that you could have dealt with those thugs all on your own, but you have a better chance of escaping the planet alive if you team up with a Republic soldier."
"You're with the Republic?" Bastila asked uncertainly.
Revan snorted. "As if. My contract expired when the Endar Spire did. Carth's a Republic soldier, though, and I guess you could say I'm with him."
"Carth Onasi is alive?" Bastila smiled. "I guess things aren't as bad as I'd feared. Still, to have been saved by you of all people…"
"Hey, what do you mean me 'of all people'?" Revan demanded. "Why does everyone always think I'm an amoral sociopath? Wait, don't answer that…"
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