A/N: I want to thank all the awesome people who have read my story so far! I really appreciate the kind words. As I develop the rest of my story, I will simultaneously be working on revamping the beginning. Thanks again for all the constructive criticism. And now, the continuation...

Chapter Two

Rude Awakening

Dreams have always expanded our understanding of reality by challenging our boundaries of the real, of the possible. ~HenryReed

The dim light in the sparsely furnished one room apartment flickered; the ventilation system whined loudly before the room went completely dark and silent. With his elbows leaning on his knees, head bent down, and fingers threaded together, the Commander was sitting in one of two mismatched chairs in the makeshift windowless hideout.

His body betrayed his silent sarcastic laugh. It wasn't the first time they'd lost power in the bleak lower class dwelling.

What could you expect though; it wasn't like anyone would report it. Criminals of all types filled the decrepit building. He'd recognized several wanted bounty hunters by the Republic when he'd carried the unconscious Private Kerkes in the building. The people here were the type who didn't want to draw attention to themselves, which was the reason it was the perfect place for the Republic soldiers.

The war veteran had been in some tough spots before, but he couldn't remember any worse. The Endar Spire was destroyed; the crew was a total loss, except for a lucky few who managed to escape to the hostile planet. Even then, the pods weren't ideal for landing; they were designed to float in space until rescue. The escalating war had caused the Republic engineers to get creative though, to try to save lives, equipping them to land to predetermined coordinates. In this case it was the surface of Taris. The repulsor-lifts the pods were outfitted with though were small and that made for a treacherous landing. He wondered how many crewmen had escaped only to die from their injuries caused by the rough landing.

Bastilla was probably fine though. Jedi were tough to kill. The Republic Captain needed to search for her and get her to safety and off this hideous planet. It wasn't his first time on the ecumenopolis world that developed from prosperity and over population. No longer on the main trade routes and with its oceans polluted, the major corporations and employers of the poor fled Taris years ago. What remained were the very rich who lived in luxury and the destitute that turned to gangs for justice within their own ranks.

Carth frowned, examining his hands without really seeing. When he found Bastilla he had some hard questions for the Jedi. This mission that the Republic's fate hung on was a failure, the price tag for that was high, in human lives as well as resources. He should have followed his gut and stood firm in his initial refusal of the assignment. He let go a long breath, slowing standing.

The lights flickered back on while the ventilation motor whirred and went dead. The Captain walked over and gave the wall where the unit was housed a couple of hard pounds with his fist and it came back to life.

Groaning from the bed drew the Commander's attention, causing him to walk over to the second of the two uncomfortable steel chairs in the place. For a long moment he stared at the woman; he'd cleaned up her head wounds and applied all the first aid he'd brought. There was nothing else he could do, short of taking her to a doctor, which would only make things worse for her and him as well.

That was another thing that didn't sit right with him: Private Kerkes. It was extremely coincidental that she ended up a survivor out of the hundreds that perished. He was going to have some tough questions for her as well.

Why accept the demotion she chose to endure? She could have made a lucrative living with the skills she'd acquired in Intelligence. Maybe she was a patriot; more likely not. Carth almost felt guilty at such thoughts, watching her thrash and cry out, obviously having some sort of terrible nightmare.

The Commander leaned over to pull the dirty blanket up over her she'd managed to kick off, when the woman abruptly sat up screaming. Her fear filled eyes widened as she took in his appearance. Carth quickly dropped the blanket in his surprise.

"It's okay. You're safe," at least for the moment, the Captain added mentally.

Traviata's eyes took in her surroundings, her rapid heart beat pounding in her ears. She recognized nothing here, nothing at all. The soldier scurried trying to get up, only to fall back onto the bed, her head feeling like a wookie had used it for a drum. In fact everything hurt over her entire body.

"You're injured, you shouldn't move around too much for a while," Carth said helping to ease the tense woman's form back onto the bed, positioning her into a sitting position.

"Dre-aming,"she choked out hoarsely, her throat dry.

"Frakin nightmare by the looks of it," Carth corrected, handing her a beat up cup with water. "This will help; you've been passed out for three days. I tried to keep you hydrated, couldn't risk a doctor..." he trailed off, shrugging his shoulders. He'd done his best for her, but couldn't shake the guilt. Soldiers wounded in the line of duty deserved so much more.

She nodded, trying to make sense of it all, her eyes searching his face. "Where am I? How did I get here? More importantly, who are you?"

"You're on the planet Taris. We crashed here, after escaping the Endar Spire. I'm your Captain, Carth Onasi."

She nodded slightly and grimaced at the pain, her fingers going to her head, closing her eyes. The blanks were beginning to fill in, images of the battle on the Spire replaying themselves in her mind. She quickly passed over the memory of Trask's death, not wanting to think of it. Barely making it off the Spire, being pulled from the pod, it was all coming back.

"Right, sorry. It's coming back to me now," she informed him.

"Good, that simplifies things a bit," the Captain said with a nod and stood. He fished some tablets out of his nearby go bag, and handed them to the Private. "These will help with the pain."

The Republic soldier took the pills hoping he was right. "Thanks."

Her mind was trying to work through all that had happened. They should send a rescue team after them, especially for someone as renowned as the Commander. She'd heard his name thrown around lots at the Academy. He was well-respected by the teachers and students. They'd send in a small black ops team, a mission she might have been sent on if not for her transfer to Fleet.

Traviata's attention was drawn to her Captain as he walked over to the sink with her cup. When he returned he had two, and a couple of protein bars. He opened one and handed it to her with the water. They ate silently at first; she sensed he was bidding his time for something. It didn't matter, the medicine was starting to kick in and she let her mind wonder.

The Private studied him while eating, noting the lines of exhaustion and stress etched on his face. Further examination revealed various cuts, bruises and a couple of burn marks she thought. He wasn't wearing a uniform, in it's place were typical civilian clothes and a pair of blasters holstered low on his hip.

"Feeling better now?" he asked nonchalantly, taking a bite of the chalky substance.

"Much, thank you, Captain," she answered honestly.

"You can call me Carth while we're stuck here on Taris. What name do you go by?" the Captain asked.

"My name is Traviata, some people call me Vee," she said with a shrug. "How long do you think it will take the rescue team? Is there an ETA?" she asked.

"No rescue team will get on Taris, not now. There's a Sith blockade around the planet. We'll have to rescue ourselves, Traviata," Carth answered.

The Private wasn't crazy about her name, but it sounded different when he said it.

"What exactly is our situation, Carth? Why would they do that? I know you're an important member of the Republic Forces, but-" the soldier didn't get to finish her sentence.

"It's not ME they're after, it's Bastilla. She's here, marooned somewhere on this planet same as us," the Commander interrupted. "It does seem excessive, even for her; just makes me wonder if there's more to it."

"Bastilla? Who's that?" she asked. The name sounded familiar, but she couldn't place when she'd heard it.

Carth's expression remained the same, but the lines around his eyes tightened. "She's the one responsible for you being assigned to the Spire. You're saying you've never heard of her?"

"I may have heard her name in passing," her brow puckered in confusion. "What do you mean she had me assigned to the Spire? It wasn't just a regular duty assignment?"

"You were essential to her mission she said," Carth's eyes darkened. "She's the reason you were assigned to my crew."

"I had no idea Cap- Carth. Who is this person?" Traviata asked her eyes darting around the room, searching for the answer.

The Commander eyed her closely. She seemed genuinely confounded by the information, but it was impossible for him to accept that she knew nothing about why she'd been assigned to the mission.

"She's a Jedi, and coveted apparently by Malak, for her battle meditation," he held up a hand as she opened her mouth. "Don't ask me what it is, it's Jedi hocus pocus, that's all I want to know about it. It's supposed to be very powerful though, able to change the course of a battle."

"That's why they attacked our ship?" Traviata asked.

"Presumably. The fire power they had, an entire Sith armada, with the Leviathan to boot? Yeah, they were looking for something or someone. Probably, Bastilla-" he was cut off.

"Which is why we have to find her now, before they do. I bet they are combing this planet as we sit here," the excited Private interrupted.

"Yes, they've been searching for survivors for days," Carth put in. He'd stood many times at the door to the apartment with his blaster charged and ready as he heard the heavy boots of Sith patrols passing by. They'd been lucky in that regard at least; no one had even attempted to enter their tiny abode.

He could have left her to save Bastilla, Traviata thought. If so much was riding on her, then what was one soldier's life in comparison? Especially given the amount of death and destruction wrought in pursuit of the Jedi. Yet he'd stayed there, to save her, a nobody, just a black boot, a grunt.

"We should get going then; check in the pubs, shops. I think the bars are our best bet first and then take it from there," the private said.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. First, you're not in charge here. I am. I will be making all the decisions. Just because we're on a first name basis right now doesn't mean we're equals in this situation. You follow my instructions, to the letter. Understood?" his eyes held hers looking for acknowledgment before continuing.

"Yes, sir, but, sir if-" she stopped mid sentence.

Carth shook his head in frustration, "You had it at 'yes, sir.' When I want your input I'll ask for it. I know I don't have to explain the reasons for the chain of command to you."

"Yes, sir," she responded a little sourly. She was just trying to help; in these circumstances she could really be useful. Her training was geared for exactly this type of situation.

"Better. Second, you've been seriously injured Traviata. I want you to stay here for a while and rest. I'll go out and do some recon, get some supplies and we'll see how you're doing when I get back," Carth finished. His mind already racing ahead to what he needed to do next.

The surface of Taris was largely covered with towering buildings that reached for the stars. Built in a time of great prosperity, each structure was designed to outshine the one before it. The people who lived on the surface of Taris were a parity of that ideal in the way they dressed as well, Traviata reflected as they trekked across one of the many thoroughfares.

She knew that in the shadows of the newer buildings where the ultra rich lived was a very different world. It was a reality where the abandoned, sick, forgotten and poverty stricken lived. The very building they'd been staying in was a prime example. The lower the level of the city, the worse it was.

The Republic soldier and her Captain had been searching for Bastilla relentlessly. They lost no time, once she'd convinced Carth she was well enough to move around. Her head still hurt a lot more than she let on, and today even more so as the day wore on. What she'd give to lie down for a few hours with a cryo pack on her head. No time though, they just got the break they'd been hoping for.

They were on their way to a meeting with one of the heavy hitters in the local crime syndicate. He was a bounty hunter for one of the major players and had his finger on everything related to people coming and going in that sector. They were assured if he didn't know, then no one would. Traviata rubbed her temple trying to ease the discomfort as they plodded along.

She watched the people as they traversed the city, the elite dressed in their finest, with their noses stuck up so high they had to be faint from lack of oxygen. Traviata was glad the Commander had warned her about it and some of the other problems with Taris. He'd told her it would test her patience and ability to keep her mouth shut, but that in their present circumstances they couldn't draw attention to themselves so neither of them had any choice but to keep silent.

He also confided with her that on more than one occasion he'd gotten himself involved in a few unpleasant situations while stationed here. He wouldn't elaborate on the details, but Traviata had the distinct impression that the altercations had become physical.

During Carth's time stationed on Taris, during the Mandalorian war, he'd witnessed all kinds of social injustice. It really bothered him that there was such bigotry against off worlders there, especially non-humanoids. It boggled his mind that people could actually be so filled with hate for someone for no real reason.

After spending several days going about the city that never slept, she'd come to exactly the same opinion as Carth. One situation they'd found themselves in, surrounded by a group of hate mongers, led by one prejudiced man, the Commander had to take Traviata by the arm and pull her away. She had so badly wanted to punch the brain bolted moron. Carth had told her he agreed with her and wanted to do the same, but it would mean a death sentence for them both if they called attention to themselves. Bastilla and the Republic were counting on them, and that was their priority; they couldn't lose focus on their mission, which was to find Bastilla and get her off the disgusting planet. What he'd said made sense to her, but she'd still so badly wanted to put her fist in the man's face.

Traviata let go a long breath, she wondered if when they escaped the planet it would be the last time she'd see the Commander. They had been constant companions for several days, and it gave her an empty feeling to think of them going their different ways. Perhaps it was because she was filling the void of losing Trask with her enigmatic Captain, she reasoned. Thoughts of Trask caused a fresh wave of pain and guilt to wash over her.

She'd always felt a close bond with Trask but it had been a feeling like she'd imagined you'd have with a little brother. Trask had attempted to advance the relationship into something more a couple of times, but her lack of response had deterred him from trying further. Traviata just had never felt that type of attraction to him, though she'd adored him. She swallowed painfully, trying to stem the tide of rising emotion, her thoughts returning to Carth.

She had a much different feeling for the Commander, she admitted to herself furtively glancing at him. He stirred something deep within her, he touched her heart without even trying to. She couldn't remember ever feeling this way about anyone ever before.

She shook her head at the crazy vein her thoughts had gone off into, which was a mistake, because that made her head start to pound even more. The Private pinched the bridge of her nose in response, hoping for any relief.

"Let's stop over here for a minute," Carth said pointing to a bench in a nearby alcove. "I want to check the datapad for directions, make sure we're not going around in circles... again," he offered.

The Commander had been noticing Traviata's quietness and that she was obviously suffering greatly from her head injury. He had resisted her accompanying him at first on his searches for clues on Bastilla's whereabouts, but the truth was that from the beginning she'd been such a help with her knowledge of languages that he'd allowed it. It was something he felt guilty for and was going to try to remedy as soon as he could.

Carth let his pack slide off his shoulder, sitting it on the bench, retrieving a large bottle of water.

"Here," Carth said handing her the container.

"Thanks," she said, before taking several large gulps. "I think we're headed the right way, we just go over there to the east turbo lift," Traviata said offering the beverage to him.

He appeared not to hear her, furiously keying at the datapad.

"Carth?" she said, jostling the bottle.

"Oh, thanks. In a minute, I'm checking something," his eyes briefly looking to her and back at whatever was engrossing him.

Giving up Traviata drank some more, sat the bottle beside her and laid back on the bench, closing her eyes. She didn't move when she felt him sit beside her. "Looking for the Chin-Bret scores?" the Private threw at him, knowing that information would not be available on a Sith ruled planet.

"Maybe I was. You know I did have a lot of money riding on last week's game," Carth said with a slight smile. "Coruscant has an amazing team this season, Trevonway was supposed to start, it was a sure bet," he said, his voice tinged with regret.

"Sure bet? I'm surprised you'd consider anything a sure bet. In fact, I'm a little surprised you bet at all," she replied wryly.

"There are a few sure things, not many, granted," Carth paused, "You know being a starship captain, planning and executing a mission to secure an objective, is a lot like betting. That's why I have a weakness for chin-bret and sabacc," Carth responded.

"You're saying your position is just a game to you?" she taunted mildly, opening her eyes looking at him blankly. She knew what he was getting at, but for some reason she enjoyed teasing him.

"What? Of course not," he shot back irately, trying to read her expressionless face.

"I'm saying that the strategy behind a well played game like sabacc especially is similar, with the obvious difference of the stakes involved," he paused, noting the smile now on her face, her eyes dancing with laughter. "You knew what I meant. You played me," he added.

"Sorry, I couldn't resist," she said lightly. "You know, there's no one who could ever question your loyalty or commitment to the Republic and the Fleet. You're practically a legend at the Academy," she finished.

"They must be getting hard up for material then. Anyway, legends rarely live up to reality and if you put too much faith in people, they will let you down," he said with a grimace.

"So far you haven't disappointed," she commented.

"Take it from me, don't trust anyone. Not me, no one, no exceptions," Carth shot back.

Traviata stared at him for a long moment and shook her head slightly. "Sorry Commander, but I trust you and I'm betting on you," she returned.

Carth's gaze tightened and he let go a long breath. "You're stubborn, but I bet you already know that."

"You have no idea, plus I hate losing and you're a sure bet, Commander. I've been known to play a hand or two of sabacc myself. You're not the only one who likes to gamble," she added with a crooked smile.

"That wasn't the point I was trying to make, but you already know that," he said with a grimace. "Damn stubborn," he added distractedly, watching the way the wind played with her hair. He found himself briefly imagining playing sabacc with her, knowing intuitively it would be a great game. She was attractive, and he wasn't above noticing a beautiful woman, but she wasn't his typical type. Still, he couldn't deny she affected him. He pushed away the thought, not sure where it came from.

"You feel better, ready to move on now?" He asked, checking his chrono. He really wanted to have enough time to make one stop before their rendezvous with the slime ball they were meeting at the cantina.

"I'm fine, you didn't have to stop for me," Traviata replied defensively, getting quickly to her feet.

Carth didn't say anything, just nodded and stood picking up his bag; slinging it over his shoulder he started walking.

"Wait where are you going?" she asked, her brow knitted together. Carth was heading for the turbo lift opposite from the one she knew they should take.

"Detour and it's a short cut," Carth said a little too casually, thumbing the control for the lift.

Traviata shrugged, hoping they didn't end up lost. "If you're sure, we don't want to be late and since we stopped to rest..." she paused at his expression.

"It's not up for a vote, Traviata. We're going this way," Carth shot back tersely.

"I know, you're the boss," she added. "Just trying to make sure we don't get lost again. It's not exactly hard to do here." The place was like a maze, some of the buildings were interconnected, some not, and specific lifts took you to different sides of the city.

Carth's knowledge of the area, from his time spent there during the Mandalorian wars, was helpful. It was still a crap shoot sometimes though; on a few occasions they'd ended up in completely different sectors than they had planned on.

The Commander felt a flicker of annoyance at once again having to remind her who was in charge. "There's plenty of time, and I want to check something out on the way," his look conveying his displeasure at having to explain his actions. The whirring sound of the lift announced its arrival. "You know, if that's okay with you," he said over his shoulder entering the lift.

"Sorry," Traviata offered, following him in, leaning against the cool steel of the wall. She'd done it again, made him mad. The Private closed her eyes momentarily at the throbbing in her head.

Carth took in her features for a moment; she'd really been through a lot over the past week, even for a soldier. The Republic Captain new Intelligence wasn't really big on protocol. The Private had carried the rank of Lieutenant before her transfer and was probably used to telling people what to do most of the time. That had to be a tough adjustment, getting busted down to a Private. He'd love to know the story behind that; there had to be one.

Onasi, you are getting soft, and that will get you killed, he reminded himself ruefully.

"I know that it's an adjustment starting all over like you are at Fleet. Think of it this way Traviata, even if you'd kept your rank when you were transferred, I'd still out rank you and you'd still be having to follow my orders," Carth offered.

"It's not that, it just comes out. I've spent my life training for this type of situation. I respect you and your rank, sir. Honestly, I'm really just trying to be helpful," Traviata promised, her eyes now wide open. The turbolift shifted, propelling them closer to their destination.

"I bet it was hard cutting all your ties with your family and friends," Carth thought out loud, curious about her. "You know during your time in Intelligence," he explained. He couldn't imagine anyone giving up their family willingly, but people did it everyday.

"Not really, I'm an orphan, was a ward of the Republic since before I can remember. The closest family I really ever had was Trask," Traviata trailed off, her eyes revealing her pain at the memory.

Carth nodded, "Sorry, I know it's hard to lose someone you're close to."

"I'm sorry too, you know for the rest of the crew. Well- and I don't know about personally - for you I mean," she stammered and then took a long breath. Idiot, she told herself. As long as he's been in service, he's learned how to deal with it and certainly had to deal with people dying long before now.

"Anyway, what I'm trying to say is, I guess we've all suffered losses in this war one way or another. We've got to find a way to stop the Sith, and it better be sooner than later, judging by this latest move," they were invading more territory everyday.

"This is nothing, they've obliterated worlds. Destroying ships and planet blockades are just their SOP," Carth bit out, his temper flaring. "We will stop them, there's no question of that. I will not stop until that happens and when I get my hands on him, he'll regret what he did," he said, steel in his voice.

Traviata's eye brow arched at his angry emotional response, "He? Carth? Who do you mean?" Traviata asked.

"Forget it," he dismissed her question, his face now a mask. Carth didn't know what it was about this woman that made him do and say things he didn't do with other people. He had enough of it though; this was not something he had any desire to discuss.

"I want to know, Carth," Traviata said earnestly. "It seems like there is more to this for you, personal in some way." She didn't mean to, but the Private had definitely touched on a hot button topic for the Commander. The awful thing was that now she was really driven to find out what had happened. Something terrible, that much she was sure of.

"That's right, it is personal, that makes it none of your concern," Carth barked, his eyes flashed in anger.

Traviata's eyes narrowed in response, "Maybe I don't see it that way, Carth. I think you need to talk about it-"

The sound of Carth's palm pounding the wall in the small area stopped Traviata from completing her thought.

"Enough already! Damn it, will you leave it the frak alone?" he thundered, his eyes boring holes into her.

Traviata met his gaze unflinchingly. "Okay, fine. I will for now."

"You had it at okay, just okay. Why the frak do you always feel the need to ruin it with what comes after you get it right? Don't answer that, it was rhetorical," he paused, slipping into his Commander tone. "You need to get your mind focused back on our mission, we both do," Carth's gaze went to his datapad and didn't look away from it until the lift doors opened with a loud hiss. Then he quickly walked off toward whatever destination he had in mind.

It only took a few minutes and they were at the entrance to a clinic. Traviata didn't want to ask him why they were there, not in his current mood. Carth entered without a backward glance; in fact he hadn't looked in her direction or said one word on the way there.

A slight man, with white hair greeted them with his gentle tone as they entered.

"Greetings," a quick glance told the man they were not the normal citizenry of Taris and he wondered what brought them to his clinic.