Author's Notes: Okay, next update. Thanks again to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, your criticisms and advice mean a lot. The reviews are what make the story move forward. So, really, thank you very much for taking the time to send your thoughts instead of just closing the window when you're done reading. Now-let's us resume!
Chapter Three
The small crew spent most of the flight in silence. Atton and Carth did not speak to each other for fear of instigating argument, and both worked quietly at the controls of the ship. Bastila spent the time by herself in the port crew quarters. And Caius merely wandered around the passageways, pretending like he had something to do whenever someone saw him, but most of the time he could not focus his thoughts on one thing. The droids had powered down to avoid any complications reminiscent the ones that arisen on Telos. Given these circumstances, everyone was ecstatic to finally land on Coruscant. Even the droids seemed to be excited, or as excited as their inflexible faces could possibly be. Carth had a brief discussion with one of the port authorities, but eventually was able to use his influence to authorize a complete overhaul of the Ebon Hawk. Everything would be repaired and made better than previous. He wanted her "faster, stronger, and more agile." Atton was glad, but he could not really explain to himself why, exactly, he was. The group then departed for the Jedi Temple.
As they navigated the bustling, overcrowded streets of the planet, Caius was overcome by the sheer mass of humanity. It was an entangled mess. He could feel all of their souls, all of their connections and bonds. His strange, detached affliction was connecting him to the planet; it was as if he could feel it, feel it through the billions of people that inhabited the metropolis. It was spiritually suffocating. He did not want to voice his discomfort, and hoped that the serenity of the Temple would help alleviate the crush of life. Only Bastila seemed to notice his problem, but she only offered a concerned, sympathetic gaze, nothing more. Caius wondered if she understood what was afflicting him. He hoped that she did, but now, he simply focused on trying to shut off the storm around him. As they rounded a corner of another busy street, his salvation came into view.
Atton commented on it first, said, "Wow, for such a humble Order, the Jedi aren't much for subtlety." The entire group stared up in awe at the massive monument to the Order of the Jedi. The temple was a great, beige rotunda with spires protruding out of the ceiling at an equal distance from each other, ornamenting the complex. It sat in isolation, as if the other structures of the planet were afraid to come near it. The whole image gave off the feel of some sort of quasi-religion.
The group continued on towards the entrance to the Temple. It occurred to Caius how profoundly empty it would seem once inside. If there were only twenty or so Jedi left in the galaxy, and even if they were all here, it would be a mere shell. It forced him to realize how disturbing it would've been, only just months ago, when there was no one inside it. With all the Jedi presumed dead, the temple just sat in isolation, a testament to what once was. Even though the Civil War was long over, the Order had vanished without the capital of the Republic even getting touched. It was disconcerting in the least. And it must have seemed outright dystopian to the citizens of Coruscant. The mutual existence of the Jedi and Republic had been threatened, and no one knew where it came from. At least now there were signs of life and rejuvenation. He had a hard time reconciling his actions with these results. Was it really as a result of what he had done that made this a possibility? He didn't feel like he deserved any sort of honor for doing what he did, but when considering all the facts, he had to realize that he did, in fact, save the Jedi Order. Almost single-handedly. Don't get cocky, his conscious backhanded him. He shook his head and they continued up the ramp and towards the main entrance of the complex.
Carth was enamored by the sight. He had never been this close to the Temple, but he knew that his son had. Dustil Onasi had, shortly before Revan's departure, joined the Jedi Order. His training on Korriban had allowed him to learn to manipulate the Force despite his age. After Revan redirected him from the Sith, Dustil had put his talents to use for the forces of light. Carth had barely seen him since then, and he hoped that his son would be at the Temple. He had no way of knowing for sure, considering family ties were discouraged traditionally and the only surviving master was an arch-conservative, he did not see his son much. All he knew was that he had survived the Jedi Purge. This was not due to his skill as a Jedi, but to his ability to masquerade as a civilian. Since he spent years as a "normal" person, Dustil was able to project the image during the purge. No one ever suspected him as being anyone out of the ordinary, let alone a Jedi. Now that Caius had removed the threat, he was able to reintegrate himself into the Jedi Order.
Atton, meanwhile, was apprehensive. He did not want to go into the Temple for fear of being mistaken as a Jedi, or forced into the Order. Sure, he could now use the Force, at least within the limits of what Caius had taught him, and he loved that. Who wouldn't want to manipulate objects or influence people's thoughts? But there was nothing that interested him in the Order. Quite the contrary, he loathed it. He thought of them as hypocritical demi-gods who patted themselves on the back for whatever good deeds they did. He did not want to be forced into their stodgy way of life. Years of experience as a smuggler and as a "real" person taught him that life was too much fun to be sacrificed for such ridiculous ideals. If anything, the Sith were more compatible with him in philosophy, but he knew that they would not appeal to him. He had been a part of their society before—yet another thing he was afraid to confront the Jedi about. Perhaps they would raid his mind and find out all of the horrible things he did during the war, then they would kill him. The whole prospect made him nervous, and he wanted to avoid it if at all possible; but it seemed impossible.
Lastly, Bastila was consumed in her desire to convince the Jedi that searching for Revan was necessary. She was terrified, however, that they would discover that her real reasons for finding him were more personal. She hoped she could guide their thinking with lofty rhetoric concerning the Republic's well being. In truth, she was concerned only with finding the man, whether or not the true Sith really existed were of no consequence. She knew that she should care about it, but she didn't. However, she had to be persuasive without giving away that she fell in love with the man or else she could be exiled from the Order. No one knew of her secret save for Revan himself. She had expertly bottled it up inside of her, and the two had managed to keep their mutual affection secret during their time together. Now that he was gone, she merely stuffed it down inside of her and tried to function normally, but it was getting more and more difficult. She grew frustrated, and even tried to forget about him, but she couldn't. Now was a crucial time, and although she knew her fear was unfounded, she was still subconsciously paranoid that Vrook would find out about her love and punish her for it. Without the support from the Jedi, they'd never find Revan, so her ability to persuade was critical.
As all of them were lost in their thoughts—and the droids ran diagnostics—they reached the entrance of the Temple. The doors accommodated them, and a lone Jedi greeted them. The man was a Twi'lek, and rather forgettable; however, as soon as he recognized Bastila, he allowed them inside. It took some persuasion, but he eventually complied and allowed the non-Jedi inside as well. The group ascended a myriad of stairwells and elevators until they had arrived at the top floor of the complex. One final stairwell remained in front of them, leading to the room that the High Council had occupied while they had lived. Before they ascended the steps, Bastila spoke, said, "We should leave the droids here. Carth, Caius, you'll need to join me if we're to convince Vrook of our plans."
"What the hell?" Atton demanded, his tan face reddening with anger, "you're leaving me here with these damn droids?" He crossed his arms. "Am I not important? Carth and Caius aren't Jedi, why do they get to go in? Or are you just singling me out again?"
"Please, calm down," she responded, "someone has to watch the droids, and Vrook will be angry if I bring in too many people."
Atton knew full well that the droids didn't need to be watched—especially in an almost completely vacant temple—but he didn't feel like arguing, he simply didn't care. "Whatever," he said.
"All right. Caius, Carth, let's go in," she said, somewhat oblivious to Atton's fuming.
"Bitch," muttered Atton as the three ascended the stairs. Bastila stopped and turned her head slightly, but did not turn around. She sighed, her shoulders lowering, but she merely shook her head and resumed leading the group inside. Atton didn't even know why he was as upset as he was. The last thing he wanted to do was go talk to a Jedi Master, but the way Bastila kept isolating him from group initiatives aggravated him as a matter of principle. He couldn't wait to get out, leave them behind. Even if he did owe Caius his life, he just didn't view it as worth the effort anymore.
As Caius, Carth, and Bastila entered the High Council chamber, they found two men in the midst of a heated argument. One was the esteemed Master Vrook. The old master practically exuded cynicism. His countenance was haggard and wrinkled, and his gray hair had receded far, revealing the dome of his head. His face seemed to be contorted into a permanent frown. He was arguing with a younger man, though certainly not a young man. The second wore all black robes, seemingly Sith in allegiance, but he was surely a Jedi. He had somewhat long brown hair that was slicked back behind his ears, light reflecting off of it in a polished sense. The man's dark features contrasted with his fiery green eyes and light skin. None of the newcomers could discern what the two men were arguing about, but their discussion ended rather quickly. The younger man threw his hands up into the air and then turned to leave. Vrook was still talking, but the younger man seemed not to care. "And what then, Nantaris?" Vrook called after him. But he merely walked away, past Bastila and her company.
He nodded a greeting to them, said in a strange accent, "Gentlemen, my lady, if you'll excuse me." And then he disappeared out the door, out of the Council Chamber.
Vrook sneered in contempt. This was definitely not the way Caius had hoped to find him. Though the man was never personable, he could sometimes be less inclined to cynicism. That hope, however, was shot. Bastila approached the brooding master, said, "Master Vrook, if I may have a moment of your time…"
He cut her off, "Of course, of course, I don't have anything to do now except argue with all the young Jedi around here trying to start some sort of revolution. It's hard being the only sensible person around here."
Bastila was a little confused but continued, "Uh, of course, master. I bring you news concerning the Sith."
"Hmm?" he grunted, "and what news is this? I've already heard of Telos, and that infernal Darth Traya. She killed—" he stopped. His eyes had focused on Caius, he now noticed him. The Exile could see fire raging behind the old man's brown irises; no, the man was not happy to see him. "You," he said angrily, "knew, didn't you? You led that old witch to them just hoping that she'd kill those Jedi. At what cost would you pursue revenge? You would bring destruction upon the entire galaxy, fool."
Caius was taken aback, unfortunately Bastila hadn't any time to talk to Vrook first. He merely said, "I didn't know…"
"Didn't you know you had one of the Sith Lords with you? That you led her right to her prey? Your ignorance knows no bounds, it seems."
Bastila tried to interject, stating the Exile's achievements in a strange form of appeasement, "Caius is responsible for the Republic victory at Telos, and he personally slew all three Sith Lords during and after the battle." She hoped this would be enough to win favor, or at least stop Vrook from tearing Caius a new one.
Vrook just frowned, said, "Three Jedi for three Sith, I see you've achieved balance. I guess that's what I should've come to expect from you." He grunted again, disgust still apparent. Carth did not feel it was his place to speak, so he remained mute. Vrook continued, "In respect to your service for the Republic, I'll not pursue this discussion any further." He turned to Bastila, said, "Now, what was it you said was so important?"
Bastila hesitated, it was clear she was nervous. Caius found the notion rather strange. She generally presented an aura of cold stability, seeing her in this way was quite a shock. She spoke up, her words constricted by formality, saying, "We've learned, in the past several days, some information about a new threat to the Republic and the Jedi. It seems," her voice was now gaining some strength, "that the Mandalorians were in effect pressured into attacking the Republic those years ago, by a shadowy empire in the Unknown Regions. These… True Sith, as they are called, also played a large role in Revan's downfall, and their influence was instrumental in his war against the Republic. We believe that these Sith are still out there, and their influence will eventually manifest a new war against the Republic, possibly one against them directly."
"Hmm," Vrook thought, though it seemed disingenuous, "I don't think I have any reason to believe you. We know why the Mandalorians attacked, and we know why Revan fell. I trust that you haven't come all this way with some sort of wild conspiracy theory?" He paused and observed Bastila's face, she had reddened and a tinge of embarrassment crept across her young visage. "That's it?" Vrook asked in disbelief. "Do you have any proof of this?" He was getting agitated again. "You can't just come strolling in here and throw some sort of over-the-top hypothesis such as this at me without so much as a source to back it up. How am I supposed to stabilize and rebuild the Order when such absurd things insist on rearing their ugly heads?" he growled.
"We have the information taken from the Sith archives on Telos and Malachor V," she said, hoping that Vrook would not call her bluff as all those documents had been destroyed or lost. "And we have the information locked away in the Ebon Hawk's navicomputer and Revan's T3 unit."
"Ah, Revan," said Vrook, "I suppose you're going to tie him into this, right? The Prodigal Knight," the man said bitterly, "The savior of the Republic. If only the people could remember that he had only stopped what he started. Without him, there would be none of this conflict, and the Order would still be intact." Bastila worried that Vrook was going to somehow perceive her connection to Revan, but to her relief, the man did not. He merely continued pontificating. "What of the man?" he asked eventually.
Bastila swallowed, unsure if she should really pursue the conversation; but she knew, deep down, she had to do it. At least for herself. "Revan journeyed to the unknown regions to confront this threat. Finding him is integral to learning how to defeat them." She sounded unsure now, as if she didn't believe what she was saying. It was a hard thing to ask, and she just now was coming to the realization that she probably didn't believe it. She maybe just hoped it was true, she wanted a reason. She wanted something she could understand, to know why Revan bolted off and never came back. She looked at Caius. He certainly believed it, and that put her mind at ease. After all, he was the only one that had seen all the evidence. And Carth would do anything to save the Republic, even if the threat was imaginary. She, in spite of their faith in her, felt profoundly stupid for bringing this to Vrook. It was absurd. There was no concrete support aside from hearsay evidence, and she knew that he would not support it. She should've just gone on her own authority, just her own wisdom. She and Caius could find him. Maybe Carth and Atton would come. But no, she caught herself; they would need Jedi support and advice. And with the support of the Jedi would come the support of the Republic. She strengthened her resolve and spoke again, "Before we do anything, we need to find Revan. What he knows would dramatically affect the Order and Republic as a whole." Her words sounded better than they had in her head, perhaps she could salvage the situation.
Vrook did not give any ground, said harshly, "If he truly went into the unknown regions, and it's been five years, then he failed. He's probably dead. No one who wants to commit suicide in that void is worth following." He hardened his visage, continued, "Now, I know you want the support of the Jedi—or what few of us remain—to go looking for him, but we cannot commit to that kind of operation. Even if it was worth wasting our time and energy, which it is not." Bastila sighed, but it was so subtle that no one noticed. Carth felt stupefied by the whole conversation, he wanted to speak, but didn't know where to begin. Caius knew if he said anything it would complicate the issue even more. Vrook continued, "Leave your savior, if he doesn't come back of his own volition, then there's no way to find him. It matters not what sort of delusions you fill your heads with."
Their failure was total. Vrook turned away and moved towards the great glass windows that overlooked the expanse of the city. He did not say another word. Bastila looked at Caius, and he could perceive a wide array of emotions boiling within her. She was angry, but also embarrassed. She seemed…defeated. Carth was confused, and Caius figured his own face betrayed the same feeling. Bastila stared at the ground as she motioned for the other two men to follow her back outside.
"That didn't go very well," Carth said, stating the obvious. Bastila didn't respond, she was still weighing the options in her own mind. Perhaps they would simply go without any support. Was that possible? Could they do it themselves? Maybe the others wouldn't even want to. Carth had his fleet to attend to, and who knows where Atton's loyalties lie. Caius would certainly go, but the two of them would be powerless to undergo such an adventure by themselves. It seemed hopeless. As Bastila buried herself within her thoughts, she failed to notice that the younger man who had been arguing with Vrook was waiting for them at the foot of the stairs. Atton was standing next to him.
"I apologize for that rude introduction," the man said. "Allow me to formally introduce myself. My name is Valiens Nantaris. I'm Vrook's second here, at least in terms of rank." His curious accent flushed his words with a sort of songlike cadence, as though one could feel his speech flittering about the air. "Jedi Bastila, we've not met, but I've heard a great deal about you," he said to her, jerking her out of her daydream. He then turned to Caius and Carth, said, "Lads, I've been speaking to your pilot here, and he's informed me of your quandary. I also did a bit of eavesdropping on your conversation with the old man, so let me relate your situation to you as I see it."
"That's a strange greeting…" Caius muttered.
"It is, but this is a strange situation. So forgive the connection or dismiss it as fate, whatever you wish." He cleared his throat, said, "Now, your pilot has done his best to fill me in on the details, here's what I've gathered: Revan's jetted off to the Unknown Regions to confront the Sith and you all want to go find him. But Vrook is refusing to lend you any support. Correct?"
"That just about hits the nail on the head," Bastila said simply. "I take it you're no friend of Vrook's, but he already made his decision. We're on our own, if we even choose to go at all."
Nantaris smiled, a curious response to such news, his green eyes gleaming, "Aye, lass, that's where I come in. Vrook and I have been in a constant state of disagreement since we've reconvened the Order. He's stuck on the past and on his personal bias. You should not have taken Mister Lucullus in there," he said to her specifically, "those two have too much history. But what's done is done, and Vrook is so distrusting of Revan that it may not have mattered. I, however," Nantaris put his hand on his chest, "am not so quick to scorn those who come with such news. After speaking with Atton here, I'm convinced that there is a degree of truth to your findings. At least enough of a kernel in there to warrant investigation."
Bastila's demeanor shifted rapidly, she seemed to get hopeful before shielding her emotion through the Force in an effort to hide her excitement. Nantaris continued, "If you'll be willing to stay here, I'll arrange for sleeping quarters to be set up for all of you. In the meantime, I'll pull some strings. Talk to me in a few days, and we'll see about your expedition."
"What about Vrook?" Caius asked.
"Forget him, lad. If he's going to let pride stand in the way of galactic progress, then we'll move him. For now, just let me do all the work."
"Thank you, Nantaris," Bastila said sincerely.
"It is my pleasure," Nantaris returned. He bowed slightly, said, "Now if you'll excuse me." He then turned to leave. Carth jumped at the opportunity, said, "Nantaris! I, uh, may I ask you something? It's very important, at least to me." Nantaris nodded, and Carth jogged up next to him and they began talking.
Bastila observed them for a moment, and then said to both Caius and Atton, "I'm going to go for a walk. I need some time to think." She offered no word of departure, and merely set off in a direction opposite of Carth and Nantaris.
Atton snorted, said after she left, "Still nothing. I save your asses and I don't get a single 'thank you'."
"Thank you," Caius input hopefully. "I mean it."
"I know you mean it," Atton said, "but what about her? She goes in there and embarrasses herself in front of that old man. If it weren't for me, she'd be lost in some sort of melancholy. Hell, she pretty much is anyway. The point is, I pulled her scheme to find Revan out of the fire and she's refused to give so much as one 'thank you' this whole time. Is that too much to ask? She thanked Nantaris, and all he did was agree with me."
Caius sighed, and the two men began walking in the direction Carth left, he said, "Why is it even that important?"
"It's a matter of principle," Atton said. "I deserve her gratitude and she won't give it. I have no idea why, but she won't. That makes it important."
"Well," Caius answered, "it's obvious you two aren't ever going to get along, so you may as well forget it." Atton didn't respond, so Caius changed the subject, said, "It doesn't matter. Anyway, I'm hungry. Let's see if we can find something to eat. When we get back we'll see where we're all staying. Hopefully you're nowhere near Bastila, I'd like to avoid more conflicts like these."
"Oh, I don't know," Atton smirked. "I wouldn't mind rooming near her. Maybe I could sneak a look into her room while she's changing or something."
Caius seemed legitimately horrified at this, exclaimed, "You're incorrigible."
Atton merely laughed, "Sometimes, Caius, I wonder if you know anything about me."
Meanwhile, Carth took the opportunity to talk to Nantaris about his son. He asked the Jedi, "I don't suppose you know of a young man here named Dustil?"
"Of course I know Dustil," Nantaris answered. "He's a fine lad, youngest Jedi around here." Carth could barely suppress a shout. Nantaris asked, "Why, you know him?"
"He's my son," Carth answered happily.
"Dustil Onasi is your son? Then you," Nantaris slapped his forehead with his hand, exclaimed, "I can't believe I didn't make the connection! You're Carth Onasi. I feel like such a fool. It's a pleasure, sir. I heard a lot of your exploits during the Civil War. Come on, let's go see if we can find your boy." The two men began to walk more briskly.
"You fought?" Carth asked, curious about Nantaris's war statement.
"I did," Nantaris responded. "I don't know of anyone who wasn't affected by that war. But I heard of how you were with Revan at the Star Forge. The fact the Republic is still intact is due in no small part to you. It's an honor to meet you, sir."
Carth laughed, said, "Now that you know who I am you're going to replace 'lad' with 'sir'? All right."
"I can't call a war hero 'lad' in good faith," Nantaris answered. "Except Caius, but that's because he's a Jedi. Or was."
"I'm still hazy on the details," Carth admitted, "but what exactly happened to him?"
"Caius?" Nantaris asked. Carth nodded, so the man continued, "I was here when he came back. His trial was a mockery; of course, what do you expect when men like Vrook are involved?" He shook his head. "Caius was a general, as I'm sure you know. When the mass shadow generator at Malachor V was activated, it actually removed him from the Force, it severed it from his body."
"I don't understand," Carth said. "It took the Force from him? Isn't that like taking someone's soul?"
"That's as good a description as any," Nantaris answered. "If you're wondering how he copes, you'll have to ask him yourself. No one else knows. It's not something that can really be described or understood. And that's why the Council exiled him. He relieved himself of duty as a general, and then they banned him from the Order because they were afraid. Now he's the Exile. Maybe one day they'll accept him back in, but if I were him I wouldn't want to come back."
Carth mused, "I suppose that's why he wants to find Revan. Maybe the man can help him."
"Aye, that's what I would do if I were him. And that's part of the reason I'm helping you lads, sir." Nantaris winked, continued, "I think he deserves the help. The fact that this mission could save the Republic only serves to make the decision easier."
"Well, thank you again for your help."
"Think nothing of it. Now," Nantaris hesitated, "there we are! Dustil, we have someone here to see you."
A young Jedi who bore a distinct resemblance to Carth had just rounded the corner and right into their line of sight. "Father!" Dustil exclaimed. He trotted up to the two older men. "I didn't think I'd be seeing much of you once you became an admiral. What are you doing here?"
"Well, I'm on Coruscant on Republic business, but I figured I could drop by and see my son."
Nantaris smiled and dropped back, allowing the father and son their time without intruders. He turned around, thought to himself, Now, where to begin?
Once Caius and Atton had made it back to the Jedi Temple after eating, they were shown to their separate rooms. Unfortunately, Nantaris had placed Atton directly adjacent to Bastila. Caius momentarily felt that he should do something to keep Atton from spying on her, but then he determined it just wasn't worth the trouble. He was looking forward to sleeping that night. It would be the first time in months he would be in a secure place. He thought Telos would be safe, but the assassination attempt rattled him, and he felt nervous the whole time there. Now, in the heart of Coruscant, and in the middle of the Jedi Temple, he would finally be able to find rest. But once he finally lay down to sleep he found that his mind was racing, and sleep would not oblige him, at least not yet. His mind was afflicted with several issues but they were all concerns about the members of his party, group, crew, whatever they were. He found himself thinking of Bastila a lot, though he did not know why. She had some sort of sympathetic vibe that she gave off, whenever he was around her, he felt as though he could talk to her about himself. Mostly his affliction—his Force wound. He had no evidence to back it up, but he felt that she was someone who could help him. This strange form of understanding pervaded his thoughts, and he usually found her there. His strange relationship to her was one of the things that danced through his brain as he tried to rest. The other, more pressing issue was that of Atton. The temperamental pilot had already announced that he was going to leave if they pursued Revan. Now that it looked like they would, Atton would probably leave. Caius was hopeful that he wouldn't. After all, the only reason they had managed to get this far was because of Atton's smooth-talking with Nantaris. If it weren't for him, there wouldn't be any Revan expedition. Caius hoped that this was a sign that he was changing his mind. He wanted the man to come with them, but it was Atton's decision alone. Though he hoped it was a sign of a change of heart. Eventually, as these thoughts continued to float about his head, Caius fell asleep.
He woke up early, only to find that Atton had woken up even before him. It was strange; Atton's routine seemed completely arbitrary. Sometimes he'd sleep until noon, and other times he'd be up at the crack of dawn. There was no telling what he'd do. This morning happened to be one of the instance in which he arose early. Caius found him in his room, drinking coffee with Nantaris. He had no clue what they could possibly be talking about, but apparently the two men tolerated each other very well. Caius found it strange to see Atton getting along with anyone, but then guessed he probably didn't give the man enough credit. He knocked on the open door and then entered the room.
"Good morning, lad," Nantaris greeted. Atton kicked a chair at their small table out and Caius took it, pouring himself a cup. Nantaris continued, "I did some talking yesterday, and I believe your mission is about to become a reality. Of course Vrook hasn't approved, but what he doesn't know won't hurt him, right?" Atton snickered. Nantaris picked up where he left off, said, "Some other Jedi have expressed interest in joining you. Admiral Onasi's boy was among the first, but the old man shot that down pretty quick."
"Poor kid," Atton said, smirking, "it'd be hard to be a Jedi and then have your father show up to tell you what to do."
"Anyway," Nantaris continued, "whoever you want to take with you is up to you, I just mean to tell you that one: your mission is a reality now, and two: a lot of people want to help. Now, there's another subject that we must discuss." He scooted inwards and leaned closer over the table. "Atton here tells me that he doesn't think his piloting skills are up to snuff to go into the Unknown Regions. Of course, that's no disrespect to him considering few have such abilities." Caius looked at Atton, somewhat shocked. Atton didn't make a move. "In fact," said Nantaris, "I only know of one man who would suit your job description. If you're going to do this, you're going to need this man's help." Nantaris gazed at Caius, his eyes beckoning approval.
"I don't think we have much of a choice," Caius answered.
"Very well," Nantaris responded. "The lad I'm referring to is a mercenary pilot. He's the best in the business, but unfortunately he's an alcoholic… and a womanizer. But I don't think, as you said, you have much of a choice."
Caius bit his lower lip, thought to himself that this must be proof Atton isn't coming with them. He still held out hope though. He asked Nantaris, "What is the man's name?"
"He's a human by the name of Elliott Gallenti. If you go snooping around the bars here, you'll probably find him. Since he's a mercenary, and because he's so skilled, his price will be steep. Fortunately, I spoke to some high-ranking Republic officials. They're willing to foot the bill. It seems a lot of people are wondering where Revan went. So whatever the man asks for, give it to him. Of course, feel free to barter if you think you can get his price down." Caius nodded. "According to his friends, he frequents a strip club on Imperial Avenue every weekend. You can probably go find him there. I'd suggest you both go." Caius frowned. He didn't really want to go to a place like that, it made him feel dirty. Atton would probably want to go, and now Nantaris gave him permission.
Carth then interrupted their conversation and entered Atton's room. He said, "I overheard part of your conversation. So, you've gotten some more support for this search?"
"That I did, sir." Nantaris stood up and greeted Carth. He turned back to Atton and Caius, said, "Excuse me, lads." He then took Carth by the elbow and led him outside, saying, "Allow me to explain the circumstances." They then faded around the corner.
Caius and Atton sat in silence for a few moments before the Exile broke the quiet, "I suppose you'll be excited to go to this club tonight."
Atton seemed rather wounded, said, "Not particularly. There's a difference between… appreciating women, and being addicted to them. It sounds like this Elliott guy is the latter."
Caius's thought about that for a moment, said, "You sound more like you're the addicted sort. You even said yesterday that you were going to try to sneak a look into Bastila's room last night." He stopped for a second, then asked, "Did you?"
Atton laughed, said, "You're interested? See, you're the same as me."
Caius felt embarrassed, thought to himself, Why would you ask a stupid question like that?
"To answer your question," Atton continued, "I didn't look into her room, even though she forgot to close her door all the way last night. Satisfied? Or do you think I'm still like that Elliott fool?"
"I, uh," Caius didn't know what to say. He just stared at Atton, mumbled, "I guess not."
There was an awkward pause, so Atton spoke up again, said, "In all seriousness, I don't want to go to this club either, but apparently we have to. Unless you want to go and then wait for Mr. Gallenti to come outside, but I would guess that he wouldn't leave until dawn—he seems like one of those people." The pilot stood up and brushed himself off, throwing some crumbs to the ground. He said, "I'm going to take off for now. I've got some thinking to do." He looked at Caius's stupefied expression, continued, "Hey, don't look at me like that. I've been known to take time to think. I'll meet up with you later tonight, that is, if we're going to find this merc." He nodded goodbye and left the room. Caius finished his coffee and then got up to leave as well.
He rounded the corner to the hallway that connected to his room, but he was stopped on the way there. A deep, earthy voice called his name. "Caius Lucullus, I presume?"
Caius turned to see an older man standing behind him, a Jedi. The man had light brown skin that was worn and wrinkled through years of living. He wore simple brown robes and stood at about average height, a little shorter than Caius. Despite his age, the man had a full head of hair, though it was very gray. He had an odd nose, a rather prominent bend at its bridge, causing it to level off at its high point. It was certainly not disfiguring… just noticeable. Caius answered, "Yes?"
The man's deep blue eyes met his as he approached. He said, "My name is Xristos Karianis." His voice sounded incredibly natural, though very deep. If an ancient tree had a voice, it would sound like this man. "I've heard about your plan to journey into the unknown regions. If you don't mind, I'd like to ask you a few questions."
Caius didn't want to answer any questions, but this man emanated a sort of affectionate, grandfatherly presence—he felt as though he should tell him anything he wanted to know.
Xristos continued, "They are not difficult. I simply want to know: why?"
"Why… what, exactly?" Caius answered, somewhat baffled.
"Why would anyone want to go out into the Unknown Regions?"
"Hmm, I thought you knew? I mean, if you knew we were going to go, you would know we are going to try to find Revan."
"I suppose I did," Xristos answered flatly, "but then that leaves me with another question. Why do you want to go after Revan?"
"Because he's the only one who knows how defeat the Sith threat," Caius answered again. He was curious as to how the old man didn't know this.
"I see," he answered, "but why is that important? The Sith are not defeated?"
"Well, yes, they are. But there's a larger threat out there." Xristos seemed not to take the line. Caius continued, "And besides, there are other reasons."
"Such as?" the man asked simply.
Caius was getting frustrated. Why was this old man cornering him and asking these questions? "I don't know," Caius said stiffly, "I want to see if he can help me."
"I see." The old man smiled, reading Caius's emotions easily. "I am sorry, I tend to get carried away. I was interested in your quest, but knew little about it. You see; if you ask a sequence of short, generic questions long enough, you can get a pretty complex answer. Forgive me if I was aggravating you, but I do think I've learned quite a bit about your situation."
"Oh, yeah?" Caius asked, somewhat disbelieving. "So what have you learned?"
"Well, all I knew before talking to you was that you're going off into the Unknown Regions. After asking those questions, I've learned that you're doing it because you want to find Revan. However, even you are not sure of your motives yourself. You want to find Revan because you believe he is the key to saving the Republic from a threat that is not apparent, but you can't seem to wrap your mind around this threat in the abstract sense. Because of this uncertainty, you're hoping that Revan—since he's such a powerful Jedi—could also lend insight towards your affliction, just in case the Sith threat is a hoax or misunderstanding." Caius looked at him rather oddly. Xristos finished, "I learned the last part merely by standing close to you, I can feel the void of the Force within you. You are stronger than any man I've ever met to withstand it."
Caius raised an eyebrow, said, "You're very perceptive."
"Thank you," the old man said, smiling politely, "but when you get as old as I am, you'll grow quite adept at reading between the lines as well."
"So," Caius said, "allow me to turn the tables on you. Why were you asking all these questions?"
"Oh, it's quite simple," Xristos answered. "I want to come with you."
Caius tried to say something, but stuttered. Xristos spoke in his stead, "It's not as easy when the answers are direct, is it?" He laughed.
"Nantaris said that some of the Jedi wanted to come with us."
"Ah," Xristos said, "that must make me one of the candidates. I do hope you'll allow me to come, but of course the decision is yours alone."
"I will consider it," Caius answered.
"And that's all I can ask." Xristos shook his hand, said, "Fare thee well!"
Later that evening, as darkness fell on the city and the sun was replaced by artificial light, Caius met Atton in front of one of the exits of the Jedi Temple. It was time to depart for the club, they'd have to brave its treachery in order to find this mercenary pilot. And treachery was, apparently, what they'd find. The Twi'lek Jedi who served as de facto guard and doorman for the temple urged them to be careful.
He said, "Be wary in such a place. There are smugglers, murderers, thieves; you name it. Always keep one eye on the lookout, muggers frequent the place as well. And never take a drink from someone other than the bartender."
"This place sounds… dangerous," Caius said nervously.
"It is," responded the Jedi. "Hence the warning. But surely, if you just look out, you will be fine."
Caius and Atton worked their way through the bustling city streets, following the directions to the club. In between fighting through hordes of people, Caius tried to ask him about why he still wasn't coming with them. As he was able to work his way closer to Atton in the midst of a large crowd, he asked, "So… why did you tell Nantaris we need a different pilot?"
Atton focused straight ahead, but answered the question, "It's simple. I don't have the skills to fly into a place like that. Even if I were coming with you."
A stranger ran into Caius, or maybe he just felt like someone ran into him. Now, he had his answer. "You're not?" he asked innocently.
Atton hesitated for a moment, said at long last, "No." He breathed deeply. "I thought about it. I really did, but I can't do it. It's purely selfish, but I don't want to go. I don't want to go get myself killed." Caius seemed rather affected by his last statement, so he said, "I hope you find him. I hope for the best, but I just can't do it. I thought I'd help you out by talking to Nantaris about finding another pilot." He put his hand on Caius's shoulder, said, "Don't worry, I plan on seeing this through as far as I can. I won't do anything to hurt the mission."
"Well…thanks for your honesty," Caius answered sadly, "but I really hoped you'd change your mind."
"I told you I'd think about it, and I did," Atton answered simply.
The mass of people began to move again, and they shifted with it. Caius asked, "What are you going to do then?"
"I don't know," Atton said honestly. "But I won't stay here."
"You won't join the Jedi?" Caius asked, hoping he could pressure his friend into joining the Order.
"Hell no!" Atton sneered, "I'd sooner go with you all into the Unknown Regions. That's a fate worse than death."
Caius frowned, "I'd think it's best for you to join them. You can use the Force, you wield a lightsaber, and you dress like one. I don't think you should wander around as some sort of pseudo-Jedi—that's dangerous, and very…misleading."
"I don't care. I'm not joining the Order. I just want to go and get lost, now that I've reconciled my past, I want to go somewhere where I'm a nobody and just start over. Why do you even want me to join the Order? I would think that you'd hate them for what they did to you."
"I never wanted to leave," Caius answered, "they forced me out—remember? I'm an exile—I can't go back. But I'm still convinced it would be best for you to join them. They'll surely take you in and show you how to manage your abilities. Otherwise you would get into trouble."
Atton shook his head forcefully, said, "No way. I would never be able to do that—especially with that Vrook bastard in charge."
"Well," Caius said very sullenly, "then let me ask you one thing, then. Arrange for Grenn to contact you if Mira ever wakes up. That's the one thing I'll ask…the one thing I'll demand of you. Go find her and take care of her if she wakes up. Whatever else you do…it's your choice."
"All right, for your sake…and hers. I'll do that," they strode a few more steps, now in silence. "I think I'll go to Nar Shaddaa," he said to himself aloud. "Will you drop me off there? It's not very out of the way, and I'll even pay for the little fuel it would cost if you want."
Caius didn't want to agree, but he realized that arguing would be fruitless. He conceded, "All right, we'll take you there." A pause, "as long as you keep your word," he added.
"Sure thing," Atton answered.
Then the silence enveloped them permanently. Neither spoke the remainder of the trip. It took fifteen minutes for them to reach their destination, all covered in quiet. Despite the buzz of the city around him, Caius felt very isolated, very quiet. Once they finally reached the bar, they stopped. He looked up at the sign, Vetra's.
"Well, this is the place," Atton said. He looked at Caius, asked, "You want to wait out here and see if he comes out? Or should we go in and find him?"
Caius was seriously considering waiting, even if it would take hours. But the sight of a shady individual in a black cloak behind Atton was enough to change his mind. He said, "I think I'd actually feel safer inside."
"Your call."
Caius entered first, shoving aside a beaded curtain that blocked the open door. The inside of the bar reeked of smoke and alcohol, smothering him. He felt that it must be twenty degrees hotter inside than outside. He coughed slightly because of the smoke, and looked around. Everything seemed to be red. Red lights, red aura, red everything. He scanned the room, tried not to look at the dancers on the stage, all of them human or Twi'lek girls with nothing on. Atton threw the beads aside and came in beside him. All Caius could hear from him was a low murmur, a simple, "Hmmm." Whether he was approving or disapproving, Caius could not tell. The awful excuse for music that pulsated throughout the club was tearing at his internal organs, and he felt that prolonged exposure would cause his ears to bleed. The place would surely cause sensory overload.
The two men tried to work their way through the unwashed mass of disgruntled patrons. Even for strip clubs this place seemed to be less than savory—if that was even imaginable. Caius fought his way to the bar and waited until the bartender noticed him. The man was overweight and his face resembled a pig…and a rancor. He snarled at Caius, clearly disapproving of his look. Caius put his hand on the counter and asked, "Can I ask a question?"
"Only if you buy something," the man grunted.
"Fine," Caius answered, "give me a water."
An alien to his right started laughing despicably, said, "Jedi trash." He then shook his head in disgust and got up, not wanting the Jedi to contaminate the atmosphere.
"We don't serve water." Still the same scowl on the man's face.
"Whatever's cheapest, then," Caius said, exasperated.
Almost instantly, the bartender produced a shot of some sort of pale, yellow liquid. Atton whispered in Caius's ear, "I wouldn't drink that if I were you."
"I'm not that stupid," Caius shot back.
The glass just sat on the counter, untouched. Caius asked, "Now can I ask a question?"
"One."
He bit his lower lip, said slowly, "All right." He exhaled. "Do you know anyone here by the name of Elliott Gallenti?"
The bartender looked shocked someone would ask such a stupid question. He didn't answer verbally, he just gestured over to the right corner of the room. There was a sizable group of people there; apparently their merc was among them. Caius looked closer to see that there was a pazaak table there as well. He didn't bother saying thank you, just left a one-credit chip on the counter next to the drink and left.
As he drew closer to the throng, he noticed two men sitting at opposite ends of a pazaak table. One had a few people around him; the other was flanked by a dozen. The popular man had three girls draped around his shoulders, one of them without a shirt, as he pondered his card strategy. Ten or so other people were standing around him. That must be him, Caius thought, sickened. The man had very white skin, almost pale, and scruffy, somewhat lengthy black hair that was being ruffled by one of the dancers. But his dark brown eyes, almost black, were focused instead on his hand of cards. Two cigarettes hung from his bemused mouth. His opponent made his move, and then without a moment's hesitation, Elliott smiled fiendishly and threw down his bonus card, making 20. The other man cursed loudly and then threw some credit chips at the mercenary. Elliott merely laughed maniacally, yelled at the man in a surprisingly smooth, melodic voice, "That was pathetic, bring your 'A' game next time." His posse was cheering at his success, and one of the dancers was gathering up his credits for him. The man removed both cigarettes and blew a massive amount of smoke out of his nose and mouth. Caius thought that the man looked vaguely familiar. He looked up, still saddled with that ridiculous grin, said, "Well, look what we have here: two Jedi! In a place like this!"
"That our guy?" Atton whispered quietly.
"Somehow… I'm certain," Caius said unhappily.
Elliott looked at them, bewildered, said, "Well?"
"We're not Jedi," Atton said, rather foolishly.
Elliott started laughing again, and an explosion of hysteria ensued from his minions, as if they were waiting for his approval. The sound resembled a tree going through a grinder. He said, amidst bursts of laughter, "Sure you aren't. You just like the costumes." The dancers on him were still laughing, but seemed to not even know that Caius and Atton were there. All they seemed to do was touch the mercenary pilot. "Robes, lightsabers, confused expressions. And you two say you're not Jedi, hah!" He snorted again. "Well, what can I do for you, humble masters?"
This man liked to patronize. Caius gritted his teeth, refusing to rise to his bait. If he upset the man, then their mission would be severely compromised. "I assume you're Elliott Gallenti?"
"You know what they say about assuming, right? It makes an ass out of you and me. But in this case, you're right, Jedi-man, I am Elliott." He took another drag from his cigarettes. He sniggered again, asked, "So, where are we going?"
"Excuse me?" Caius asked, perplexed.
"You're clearly here to hire me as a pilot. That's the only reason anyone like you would ever come here."
Caius was surprised; he predicted at this point that this man would dominate any sort of negotiations.
"I need to know where we're going," he continued, "so I can determine my asking price."
And Caius was right; the man had all the leverage. He gulped, said, "To the Unknown Regions."
Elliott started laughing again, although one of his outbursts was substituted with a horrible, wheezing cough. The women were horrified, but as soon as he regained his composure they were relieved. "That's insane of you. That means my asking price will be rather steep." A devilish grin crept across the man's face. "12,472 credits."
Caius felt his head explode. Not only was that a lot of money, the man knew exactly how much he needed. "That's a very specific response…"
"What's it to you? 8,746 credits for this year's rent; 1,254 for drinks; 1,550 for gambling debts; and 922 for the services of these fine ladies," he said, gesturing to dancers hanging on him. "You needed proof or something? You look like you've got the means to pay that."
Caius looked at Atton, said, "Think there's any room to negotiate?"
"Not a chance."
Caius frowned, said, "All right, it's a deal."
"Oh, don't go, Elliott!" said the topless dancer as she wrapped her arms around him.
"Sorry, baby," he said, not really concerned, "but I've got to keep food on the table. Even if it's just for me." She slid off of him and Elliott held his hand out to shake Caius's.
Caius obliged him, said, "Come to the Jedi Temple tomorrow, we'll go over what exactly it is we need you to do."
"Oh, the Jedi Temple!" the man said disingenuously, "I feel so important now."
Caius didn't say anything and just turned to leave, and Elliott called after him, said, "Hey! Don't go stomping off like that. We've got to honor our new deal! Have a drink with us."
Atton caught Caius by the arm, said, "We should do it, it'll at least show him we aren't jerks."
Caius sighed and turned around. He found someone already was presenting Elliott with a drink. He had a tray with three bottles on it, all without caps. The man sure wasted no time. "It's from someone who says he's a friend," said the server to the mercenary. Caius thought that was a rather strange thing to say. As he thought, his eyes drifted behind Elliott and the dancing girls. He had not noticed before, but standing behind the girls was the shady, cloaked man from out front. Caius suddenly felt his stomach leap, and he looked down to see Elliott about to take a drink. Caius, without a moment's hesitation, shot his hand out and wrenched the drink from the man's hand.
"What the hell?" Elliott exclaimed, clearly incensed. "Don't ever take a bottle out of my hand!"
Caius merely stood there with it, trying to distance himself from Elliott. His gaze, however, was locked on the cloaked figure. The dark individual went for something on his hip, and Caius didn't bother to find out what it was. He dropped the bottle and used the Force to throw Elliott to the ground. The glass bottle shattered, spraying its contents everywhere. But Caius was long clear of the razor-sharp shards. He vaulted himself over Elliott's chair in the direction of the cloaked figure. Two blaster shots blew out of the man's long sleeve. Caius, still in mid-air, batted the first shot out of the sky with his hand as the second missed. All hell broke loose as the girls nearby screamed, noticing the discreet man's weapon. Instantly the house fell to the ground in an effort to shield themselves from the attacker. Caius sprinted at the man as he dropped his gun and went for a second weapon on his waist. He was not allowed the time as the Exile let a sledgehammer of a punch land right on the man's jaw. The force of the impact caused the man to turn around completely, listing in the air, and Caius's momentum drove him into a spin after throwing the punch. In one seamless move, he activated his lightsaber and continued his follow-through. Ever the Jedi guardian, Caius's blue blade moved in one elegant stroke through the air. As the attacker spun helplessly, the saber found a home right in the man's back, blowing through the front of him. He was dead before he hit the ground. The man slumped against the wall of the club and skidded down it into a pile. Caius deactivated his lightsaber and put it back into his robe.
"What the bloody hell?" Elliott demanded as he hurried off of the ground.
Atton examined the shattered bottle, said, "There was something in this drink. Probably poison of some kind—maybe a type of anti-freeze. You would've died a gruesome death had you taken a sip of this."
"He tried to kill us… he tried to kill me!" Elliott said, breathing labouredly. "You always get this kind of trouble?"
"You don't want us to answer that question," Atton said. "We've seen things you couldn't fathom."
"You'd be surprised what I can imagine," Elliott snorted, "and now that I know I'm going to have people shooting at me, I'm going to ask for 200 more credits. It's that, or no deal."
Caius frowned tremendously, but grudgingly obliged, "Fine." He took a deep breath, "remember, come to the Jedi Temple tomorrow morning. In case you need a name, I'm Caius Lucullus."
Elliott's face dropped slightly, betraying some sort of response to Caius's name. Immediately, however, the man covered his emotions. He had probably just heard the name before. Caius shook his hand, sealing the deal, and then turned to leave. Atton followed behind him and the club slowly started going back to life. The dancers started dancing again and someone removed the carcass of the assassin. They moved with such efficiency that it was clear this type of thing was hardly out of the ordinary. As the two men made their way to the exit, the rancor/bartender stopped them, said gruffly, "Don't ever come back."
"No problem, jackass," Caius responded.
Atton laughed. They both tried to jump out of the exit at the same time and collided with each other, each man eager to escape the club. Once out, Caius took a deep breath, cherishing the air. He said, "I couldn't wait to get out of there. I felt claustrophobic…I couldn't breathe normally."
"Why do you think that man attacked us?" Atton asked.
"He was probably Exchange, same as the guy on Telos…" he turned and looked at the outer walls of the club, continued, "I think I'm going to take a shower when I get back to the Temple. I feel… dirty."
"Ditto," Atton responded.
Author's Notes: Okay, so there are a few OCs-sorry for the amount of dialogue. I get kinda...dialogue happy, if that makes any sense. I hope it wasn't too much. Anyway, I figured I'd quickly address one of the technical issues that What contented men desire brought up last chapter. I think it must be evident that I am not very tech savvy. So, I hope you'll forgive me, but whenever I come across a techie situation (like T3 or the navicomputer), you can all be assured that I will be making stuff up to move the plot along. Sorry for the lame explanations, but I figured I'd address it now rather than later-as it will probably become more evident in the future.