Chapter 11. I suppose I should explain that I'm on break from college and breaks are going to be the primary posting time. It sucks, I'm sure, but whatever. So I think you'll deal with it.

Disclaimer: I didn't get KOTOR for Christmas. I put it on my list, and I sure didn't get it. Not even from Santa.

Teethree beeped behind her.

"Yeah, you did good." She acknowledged cheerfully. "But I'm going into Davik's alone. Kinda what I do."

More beeping.

"Oh, puh-leeze. I've known droidspeak since I was little. And I'd bet my pazaak deck Mission gets it."

"Are you talking to the droid?" Bastila asked coolly, from her cross-legged position on the floor as she stepped in.

"Yep. The little fella's a good conversationalist." She smiled. "And I've got a little something to do—I'll be back in a day or so."

"Where are you going?" Carth growled.

"Oh, stuff the paranoia. It's annoying." Zara smiled. "And I will make you take an unscheduled nap if I gotta."

"Way to make him trust you." Mission muttered.

"Aw, don't be sad—maybe you can get Teethree to tell you what an adventure he had today. Toodles!"

It was a relief to be back in the stink of the Lower City, the dim flickering lighting and shadowed corners. Canderous would be at the cantina, she knew. They'd look somewhat less suspicious meeting in different places. And cantinas were the place for shady business.

"You're back soon."

"I work fast, like I said." Basic was good enough for this much seedier cantina.

"But not too fast." Canderous chortled. "No friends?"

"I work just fine alone. And you're a friend. Met you twice in war and once now, eh? Makes us something."

His brows furrowed. "I remember one time."

"You were younger the first time. I was this feisty creature from a planet by the name of Yanibar."

"I remember you now. You called a pack in after you chucked rocks at my head. And threw me a few meters further than you should have been able to." His eyes were narrow.

"It was war, vod."

"I sure hope you don't think of me as a brother."

Zara chuckled. "Quit leering. Let's get. I'd prefer to be close to off-planet when the Sith patrols come in and find most of the base dead and their prisoners escaped."

"You're an evil girl."

"I prefer ingenious."

Canderous gave her a Look as he stood. "I'm sure." He drawled.

Davik eyed me curiously, Calo Nord dismissively.

"Didn't know you worked with partners, Canderous." The bounty hunter said derisively.

Canderous growled. "You're not top kath hound yet, Calo."

"I can't have my two best men fighting." Davik said, a sort of gentle reprimand.

She smirked, introducing herself. "Zara Nixie. You might have seen me at the swoop opener."

Davik's gaze swiveled to her. "I did—your display afterwards was very impressive, I must admit." Then his eyes narrowed. "Zara the Skullsmasher, the people are calling you."

Zara's smirk toned down to a soft smile. "It's a very appropriate name."

"Bare-handed."

"It's a thing I do." She shrugged.

He stared at her hands. "Not even a bruise."

She rocked back on my heels. "I'll tell you a secret—I'm of the Zeison Sha, trained by the Matukai." Zara pulled the discblade from my back. "Until I can rebuild a wan-shen, this is my primary weapon."

"Primitive." Calo scoffed.

Her pleasant smile was unnerving. "It would be. But I'm a Force-user." She held up a hand, forestalling questions. "I'm not a Jedi or a Sith. I just have the capability to do things that they can do."

Davik's eyes were suddenly very eager, greedy. "So, a mercenary with Force powers?"

"That's right." Her voice had some deadly softness to it.

Davik seemed to snap out of a daze. "Then we'll give you a tour."

"I'd be delighted."

The opulent guest quarters were luxurious, for sure, but a prison. "I'm going to get a nice massage."

Canderous's brow rose. "Oh?"

"Davik did ask me to dinner." Zara smiled at him. "And I certainly wouldn't mind an afternoon of pampering. I will have to wear a properly scandalous dress, after all. I prefer to be relaxed while doing such things."

"Don't we have something to do?"

"After dinner, Candy." Her violet eyes were distant. "He'll be off his guard."

"Don't call me 'Candy'." The Mandalorian rumbled.

"Make me." She sauntered out of the room, for her massage. She returned within an hour, scented with exotic oils, and went to the closet, riffling through the clothes stowed in it.

"He has had this room stocked with me in mind." She murmured, holding up a dress.

Canderous snorted. "He likes pretty women."

"I'm not surprised." She selected an outfit and pulled off her top, ignoring Canderous. "Rich men generally do, though I'm not sure he'll think me so pretty after dinner. I have some nasty scars." She pulled the new top on, the violet shimmersilk tight around her upper body. It was really little more than a bandeau.

"Skimpy."

Zara shrugged. "He's only gonna see me for an hour or two. I'll live." The skirt was of shimmersilk as well, layered like rose petals, long enough to drape to her ankles. "Ugh. I hate the skirt."

"And what exactly do you want me to do about it?"

"Nothing." She rolled her eyes. "Why would I expect you to do anything?" All the same, she pulled on the skirt before giving herself an inspection in the mirror. "I need sleeves." She rummaged through the closet further, eventually coming up with sleeves she could tie on. In black shimmersilk heavily embroidered with silver and violet, the laces twined from her elbow to her biceps while the upper edge of the sleeve was tight around her elbow before puffing out elegantly and then shrinking to tighten around her wrist.

"Interesting."

Zara shrugged. "It'll do." Her hand went to her stomach, stroking one of several long scars drawn across the skin.

Canderous eyed her. "How'd you get those?"

She tilted her head, biting her lip. "Don't tell Carth or Bastila or any of them," she said slowly, "but I'm not sure I know. There's something… not something wrong, exactly," Zara shook her head with aggravation, "but something isn't right." She waved her hands vaguely in the air. "I'm having visions that don't match up with my memories."

"Visions?"

"My mother was a Jedi. She left shortly before getting pregnant with me. She taught me some Jedi things, stuff the Zeison Sha and Matukai don't have the teaching of. It tells me that my memory is wrong, but something else is telling me they're right."

"So, the Jedi gave you fake memories." Canderous said dryly, obviously a sarcastic remark.

Zara pursed her lips. "They could have. Supposedly, just before they offered me a job, I was a smuggler who crashed my ship. That doesn't feel right. I smuggled when I was young, just after leaving Yanibar, before I joined the war. That's where my memories start to feel off, right after the bit where I join the war. Up to a few weeks after you, it feels right. And then it's not."

"Can't help you there."

Zara scowled. "I know. But it still makes me furious." She pinched her nose. "And there are very few people who would have the ability to reconstruct memories and even fewer that would have the patience to do so. The Jedi and the Sith. But the Sith wouldn't do this, not to send me to join the Republic. I'd easily disable any commands embedded in my memory subconsciously, if I got hurt and had to heal myself." Trinkets started lifting into the air, a subconscious display of her agitation. "And for the Jedi to do it… well, they'd have to have a very good reason. What possible reason could they have?"

"Not a clue." Canderous grunted. "You're making things fly."

"Oh." She flushed a little. "Right." The trinkets drifted back down to their places. She ran a hand through her hair. "And don't tell anyone about this little conversation. I'd be forced to do something rather irreversible."

"Oh?"

"Especially don't tell Bastila. She acts way too weird around me."

He nodded a bit. "That close shot got her face pretty well. She's scared of you—maybe even terrified."

"Most people," Zara said dryly, beginning to pull her hair back, "would be rightly scared of someone who smashes skulls with her bare hands when she looks no stronger than a bit of wire with human skin."

He chuckled. "True enough, Skullsmasher."

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