It's been awhile, I know. I have no excuse, really. But I present to you chapter five!

Disclaimer: This wouldn't really be Fanfiction if I owned it, would it?

It had taken a few hours, Zara thought with a grin, but their search had yielded which swoop gangs to ask for help and two sets of Sith armor. Not to mentions various amounts of credits and other supplies.

"Okay, flyboy, ready to hit the Lower City?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." He grumbled, his voice tinny from behind the helmet.

"Aw, no need to be so sour." Zara teased, obviously grinning. Then they rounded the corner and she was silent and serious, sensing out the Sith on guard. He was bored and lazy, too sure of the Sith's hold on the Upper City to be worried about someone civilian slipping past.

"Watch out in the Lower City." He said as they came close. "Those gangs are in the middle of some war and will take a shot at anybody."

"Good to know." Zara replied, projecting her voice so it was deeper and lower. "I knew we got sent on an osik detail."

He shrugged. "Better you than me."

The elevator opened, Carth walking in steadily, Zara at his heels. "Thanks for the sympathy." She threw over her shoulder, the door closing as the elevator began a long descent.

Carth was the first to rip off his helmet. "This thing is hot." He complained irritably.

"Well, aren't you just in a mood?" Zara retorted, pulling off her own helmet. "It is hot, though. Hot and a bit sweaty for sure." She brushed a few stray locks of damp hair from her face, unpinning her plait from its bun. She continued stripping the armor off, sliding it into a pack she and Carth had brought for the purpose. "Alright, so how do we get into the Undercity? I'll bet my blades that the Sith are a lot better guards down there."

"I guess we'll figure it out."

Zara finished stripping the Sith armor and started putting her own motley collection of Mandalorian armor on. "Guess we'd better check out the gangs. Maybe one of them can help us."

He nodded. "I've been meaning to ask where you got your armor."

"The wars. I took a piece of Mandalorian armor from any Mando I killed whose armor would fit me." She waved her arms vaguely, gesturing to the mistmatched colors. "It was a sort of record of my prowess. The more experienced Mandos always went for me. Probably saved more than a few new recruits with my discblade and wan-shen."

"What?"

"The discblade is the weapon my mother's chosen people used and the wan-shen is what I made when I was done with some specialized training."

His eyes narrowed. "What aren't you telling me?"

"You're saying you don't have secrets? How about you tell me a bit about yourself, Captain? After all, you read my file."

"Wasn't that substantial." He retorted sourly. "But please, feel free to begin your interrogation."

"It was never going to be an interrogation, Captain!" She spat. "What's your issue? You're twice as paranoid as they come with a good dose of hairless Wookiee!"

"Getting snippy, are we?"

Zara's nostrils flared. "Alright, so what's your question, captain? What do you want to know so badly that's eating at you?"

"What's your perspective of the attack?"

She reared her head back, purple eyes blazing. "Think me a traitor, captain? Let me tell you my impressions – the Sith attacked us with the sole purpose of capturing Bastila and doing whatever the hell they felt like with the rest of us. You? You woulda been killed. Me? I woulda gotten a whole lot worse." Her hand clenched into a fist. "You can't anticipate everything, captain. You better get used to the fact that you aren't all all-powerful, that nobody is. Bad things happen and if they're in the past, what the hell do you expect to do about them?"

She went cold. "And if I'd been a traitor, why would I be here? I'd be in some cushy apartment, not bothering with this osik. I'm not a mercenary. I gave the Republic six years of my life when they'd left my people to rot on Yanibar. So don't tell me I'm a traitor."

"I never said you were." His voice was level. "But I'll be prepared for anything."

Her lip curved into a small, bitter smile. "Anything, huh? I hope that works out for you."

The elevator stopped and opened, blasterfire effectually cutting off the conversation. Zara pulled her two blades out, flourishing them expertly as she darted into the middle of the firefight. The gangers in orange and black opened fire and the yellow and teal ignored her.

Throat, limb, parry. Low spin kick, high roundhouse, harden skin against shock stick. She lost herself in the dance of battle, cooling her rage into useful precision and speed.

Then it was over and she was aware of blood on her clothes. What? a little voice said, there shouldn't be blood. One of the still-standing blue-and-yellows came up to her.

"I've never seen moves like that."

"And you probably won't again."

He removed a cord from his neck. "If you ever need help from Gadon of the Beks, just show this at the door." The cord had a token.

Zara took the cord, looping it around her own neck. "Thanks. I'll come by sometime."

The Twi'lek grinned. "And if you ever want a drink…"

She threw back her head and laughed. "You don't want to start buying me drinks. I drink like a Wookiee… a full-grown one. But it's a kind offer. Though if you wouldn't mind pointing me to the cantina…"

"Just down that way."

Zara nodded and waved, walking quickly. She took a rag from the back of her belt, cleaning off her blades, ignoring Carth tailing her.

The cantina was dark and smoky, the lighting low. She went straight for the bar. "Tihaar if you have it. A bottle."

The bartender's eyes widened, but he produced a good-sized bottle. "Hundred credits."

Zara slid them on the bar without complaint, taking the bottle and opening it for a good-sized gulp.

"I thought only Mandalorians drank tihaar."

"You're mangling the pronunciation horribly." Zara turned to rest her back against the bar and her elbows on it. "And how do you know I'm not Mandalorian?"

The Twi'lek, a Rutian teen, grinned. "Because if you were Mandalorian, I would have heard. If you want information, I'm the girl to go to."

"Get my young friend here her usual." She threw the words over her shoulder. "I'm good for it. Zara Nixie. I'm usually a mechanic, but this is an uncertain galaxy."

The girl's eyes lit up. "Nixie, huh? I recall hearing that name a few years ago."

"It's a big galaxy, kid. So, what's your name?"

"Mission Vao. My normal package includes a tour, but it's a bit too dangerous."

"So, Mission, tell me a bit about the Beks."

"They're one of the two big gangs down here and they're the good ones. Gadon Thek'll help anyone who asks. The Vulkars are the ones doing all the shooting down here."

"Black and orange, right?"

"Already had a run-in?"

Zara smirked. "They came out the worse for it."

"You have the look of a fighter."

"You've got no idea. What's up with this Davik fellow? His name's been thrown around plenty."

"He's a legitimate businessman, as far as anybody knows for sure, but he's connected with the Exchange. I even heard he's got a new ship, the Ebon Hawk."

"Where would it be kept?"

Mission raised a brow at Carth, but Zara gave her a tiny nod. "His estate. But it's locked up tight and the Hawk would be locked up tighter than anything, seein' as rumor says the Hawk could break the blockade."

"What a pity. Me an' him are looking to jet off. Taris ain't much of a planet to be stuck on. Anyways, kid, if you've got some place to go, don't let us keep you."

She nodded. "Yeah, this dive's pretty boring. Hey," gulped the last of her drink and yelled across the cantina, "Z, let's head out!"

Zara's head jerked up as she heard a Wookiee roar in reply. A moment later, Mission and the Wookiee were gone. She whistled before turning back to the bartender. "How much for the drink?"

"Fifteen." He muttered.

"What was it?"

"Water."

"Sheesh. I'm never coming here for a cheap vacation."

"Clean water's hard to get."

Zara sighed. "I'm not surprised." She slid the credits across the bar, standing up straight. "Alright, Carth, ready to go see the Beks?"

He shrugged, which she took as a yes.