Chapter 41

Shili – The Valley of the Lost

The ground was damp. It wasn't so damp that one would sink into it, nor was it dry enough to just brush off the skin. It was the damp that made dirt molecules cling together and stick to the cheek, leaving small streaks as you brushed it aside. For some reason, Stass' addled brain seemed quite amused by it's findings. She half chuckled to her addled brain, which felt like it had been slammed back and forth against her skull.

With monumental effort, she opened her eyes and lifted her head to look up at the viewport above. Outside were splashes of red, orange and grey, blurring together in a colourful kaleidoscope of confusion. The effort was too much, and she left her head drop again to the floor. Her nose began to twitch with an oncoming sneeze. Already, Stass could tell that it would give her a headache. She closed her eyes and waited for the incoming pain. But then she smelt it.

Smoke.

With new urgency, she raised her head again… to find herself rolling over, onto her back. Above her, still blurry against the red canopy outside, was a woman in an olive green uniform, splattered with grime. Narrowing her gaze, Stass focussed on the collection of coloured squares on the breast of the uniform. Lieutenant. Raising the gaze to the face, the Jedi willed herself to focus. The woman had tan skin. While most of her blonde hair had remained in it's neat tail, some had come loose and was now splayed messily across the skin, some sticking to thick, blue liquid. The ears were slightly pointed, and the forehead had small indents in the skin.

Stass sat herself up on her elbows, trying to shake the static from her skull. Slowly, carefully she spoke the woman's full name, more to hear her own voice than anything else. It came out bruised and weak and whispered. "Chan Telle Lawell."

"Oh, good. You know my name.", The woman reached forward and gently held the Tholothian's chin, before slapping her hard. Before the pain even registered, the woman was speaking. "Get up, Jedi! We need to move."

The only noise that came out of Stass' mouth this time was a gurgling moan. Jedi were powerful, but they were still mortal. The crash landing had exhausted the Tholothian Jedi. With her brain now more or less online, she could recall holding the ship together most of the way down.

The Calacran rolled her eyes. "Snap out of it, Allie. We need to move!"

"I… am conscious.", Stass said slowly, "Just making sure everything still works."

A loud screech came from outside the viewport, which she now saw was nothing more than shattered transparisteel. She had been right. They had crashed into a jungle of grey, red and green. It seemed to stretch forever. "Where are we?"

Chan gestured around them impatiently, "Still on the ship. And we need to leave. This place will be up in flames in the next five seconds. Unless you want to join the rest of the bridge crew, we need to get out of here!"

She pulled the Jedi up, hauling Stass' arm over her shoulder, and proceeded to drag the semi-conscious Jedi behind her. Stass saw a quick flash of dead pilots and comm officers slumped in their seats. Those who had taken off their restraints were now dead. And they would indeed join them if they did not exit the flaming room.

"Have any others survived?", she managed to croak out.

Chan didn't bother looking down at the Jedi slumped against her, "Just me and Antilles from the bridge. I sent him to check on the Senator and get him out. After I get you out, I'm heading for the engineering levels. What's left of them, anyway."

That made sense, at least strategically. They would need as many survivors as they could get to help them survive wherever they were. Besides the crew who had been in the engine room, the largest group of people was in the mess hall. Or more accurately, the Senator's overtaken residence.

Stass focussed on the Lieutenant's final sentence. "What's left of them. We landed belly first?"

Telle screwed up her lips. "It was the best Mark could do. We were pretty much toast. He keeps mumbling about how we should have broken up earlier than that. May I assume you had something to do with that?"

Stass didn't bother answering. She felt sick to her stomach. The engine room was in the belly of the ship. Without time to launch the escape pods, the crew down there were probably crushed. That decided it. If there were any survivors from this crash, it would be from the kitchenette. If memory served her, the Senate Commandos had been sent to the kitchen to guard the delegation. There had also been three Pantoran Guards. They would be helpful if the pirates came to check on their corpses.

"What's our first priority?", Stass asked. "Containment or escape?"

The lieutenant sighed miserably. "No containment. The fires are small enough for the time being. We need to get everyone out now."

"So then, to the commissary.", Stass nodded. "Understood."

The jungle of dangling wires, many of them live, was solved by giving Lawell access to her lightsaber. The woman was a natural. They managed to get to the main, circular corridor with only a couple of mishaps. Every now and then, they came across a porthole that again showed the canopy outside. Which, of course, brought Stass back to her first question. "Where are we? And I don't mean you and me. Where did we crash?"

"No idea.", Lawell answered unhelpfully. She turned a corner and started around the circular corridor of the ship. "How are you feeling?"

Stass thought about that, mentally checking and reconnecting each of her senses, each limb, one at a time. Her ribs hurt, but she was sure they were just bruised. The nerves in her right knee were screaming at the movement she was forcing through them. They would heal with time. She tried to concentrate on healing them with the Force. Before she could tell the Lieutenant, her enhanced senses picked up another voice in the distance.

It sounded choked by the smoke, but still managed to echo around the curved hall. She located which direction it was coming from and relayed the information to Lawell, who hurried them in the direction of the voice. They came across a pile of boxes that had come loose from their straps and were now strewn over one of the doorways to the commissary. Another desperate cry came from behind it.

Seeing the debris, Lawell gently lay Stass against the far wall and tried to push the boxes aside herself. Stass folded her arms and watched the Calacran struggle to move them. Her hand slipped and slid against the metal corner, slicing open the skin of her palm. Startled by the pain, the lieutenant pulled her hand away, a few droplets of scarlet blood splashing across the floor.

Stass tried to dull the pain in her head. She had a duty, and she needed to focus to fulfill it. Taking three deep breaths through her nose, and she focussed on the hexagonal crates, picturing them as a single item that needed to be moved. Her brain was still fuzzy, but she used what strength she had and reached for the Force. The crates went flying, landing in a broken heap far down the corridor. Immediately, Chan leapt to the door and keyed the command panel. The partition ground to the side, screeching to a stop only half open. Still there was enough room for people to squeeze through, made clear when the blue-armoured form came barrelling out.

The Senate Guard indistinguishable with his helmet on, looked up at the two women – one standing nearby and one slumped against the wall – and gave a loose, informal salute. "Hey, Lieutenant. It's good to see you guys. Antilles got the Senator out. The other survivors are still inside."

"What happened?", Lawell asked the younger commando, "I told Mark to get everyone out."

"We were about to leave when the floor shifted. Ceiling started coming down. One of the aides took a hard hit from a lighting panel and is barely conscious. We've been trying to free the other door, but the controls are fried. This one seemed to have malfunctioned."

"Actually it was blocked.", Lawell helpfully told him.

"How many of you are still alive?", Stass felt a sudden relief fill her leg. The Force seemed to have finished healing whatever was wrong with the knee. She stood to address the man. Now that she saw the white markings on his helmet, she could identify him as Talos.

"Four surviving aides and a couple of astromechs, ma'am. They were the lucky ones who were still in their crash restraints.", he replied, then gestured down the curving hall corridor, "One of the other aides got out before this door malfunctioned. Said something about needing something down there. I tried to stop her, but she was quite determined."

The smoke cleared a little behind the guard and Stass felt her heart climb a little higher up her oesophagus. There were about seven bodies strewn around the kitchen, a mixture of blue-skinned Pantoran aides, guards and staff, and the paler faces of the armoured SG's. Their injuries were consistent with blunt force trauma. Again, Stass felt sick. Her investigative instincts allowed her to paint a picture of exactly how this had happened. These people had been thrown violently around the room as the ship broke atmosphere.

Even droids had not been spared. They lay askew, limbs sparking sporadically. She recognised the still forms of Bianca and Bridget, the twin aides whom she had spoken to briefly. They had been excited to see Coruscant again, picturing wild parties and the night lights that went on forever. She hung her head. So much death filled the air, and the survivors couldn't even mourn. Not yet, anyway.

Talos led out the few living occupants of the room, hurrying them through the half-open door. The three aides who had stayed with him moved with the speed enhanced by pure fear and confusion. Lawell gestured for Talos to go with them, and he obeyed, hefting his heavy DC-15 rifle from his back and taking off into the smoke. Then, Lawell turned to Stass, who was still staring at the carnage.

"Do you think you can make it outside?", she asked.

"I can certainly try.", the Jedi answered, testing her legs by bending them experimentally. "What will you be doing?"

"Finding our wayward aide, of course.", she answered. Without another word, she pulled the DC-14t pistol from it's holster she had strapped to her side and hurried off further into the ship.

Riyo hid in the tiny crawlspace beneath the turbolift car, trying not to hear the low growls of the hunting beasts. The sound bounced across the wreckage, making the metal reverberate down her spine. It was the growl of the Gundarks. She had only ever seen them in books, but they were instantly recognisable. The huge, savage creatures were sniffing about the severed rear of the ship, hunting for anything edible that had survived. They were hunting for HER!

For a moment, a very brief moment, she cursed her young and instinctive mind. When Caloc had been forced to run off during their latest game, which had been changed from Relutani to Armada, she had noticed he had not grabbed his satchel. She had been forced to hurry to the commissary and strap into the crash restraints, but after the ship had broken apart in orbit and crashed, she hurried off to find the bag. It seemed stupid, but she had seen what was contained in the bag. Even if the boy did not survive his crash, perhaps the Tholothian Jedi could use it.

Caloc's room had been tossed about like a fancy salad. What few items he had were scattered around the small space, coming to rest on the opposite side of the room. The ivory carving had been snapped in two. The datapad he had been reading was half hidden beneath the bed. She grabbed everything and jammed it into the satchel. Then she had heard the growls. Turning she, for the most idiotic moment of her short life, ran towards them.

The entire rear half of the ship had been entirely sheared off during the chaotic landing. The engines, and half of the circular ring were gone. Riyo remembered the horrible, dull THUMP as the ship had hit something on the way down. Perhaps it was just the dense canopy. What she could see was the forward half of the ship, containing the commissary, bridge and a majority of the crew quarters. Riyo had only seen a glimpse of the beasts out through the opening before she realised her mistake and hid beneath the turbolift car.

A voice called out, coming through the half-sheered corridor. Riyo couldn't make out what the person was yelling, but she felt her nerves crawl up her spine. Without her noticing, her hand clenched the tiny crystal of kyber that Miriam had given her. It was still hanging around her throat, hidden in the folds of her borrowed jacket. Whoever had called, if they stepped out of that door, the gundraks would attack and ground them into chowder. She had to stop whoever it was. So she picked up the satchel and slid it back over her shoulder, then took a deep breath…

A loud, animalistic roar came from above her, and as she watched the Gundark's red and grey heads swing towards it. Was that a sliver of... what was that? A strange mixture of fear or surprise filled their ugly faces. Honestly, it could be either. The mere sight of a woman in a tattered green navy uniform leaping atop a Gundark was quite surprising. And also incredibly unnerving.

The average Gundark outsized the woman by about 50 tonnes. But the woman leapt and slashed with some kind of knives pointing back from her forearms. Blue blood spurted from the Gundark's wounds, leaking from it's mouth, teeth and eyes. It roared in pain and confusion, trying to grab its offender with its gangly arms. The two smaller arms which sprouted from its lower torso succeeded in pulling the woman's legs away, and the woman was tossed between the larger upper hands like an underripe jogan until she dangled upside down, face to face with the Gundark's bloodied face.

"My, you are a big guy.", the woman scoffed, "But your breath reeks."

Riyo leaned in, about to do something, anything, when the woman suddenly pulled a pistol out of nowhere and pulled the trigger. The blue bolt of plasma burned straight through the beast's one good eye, hitting its tiny brain. In an instant, the once terrifying beast was on the ground, a pile of red/grey fur and huge claws.

The other Gundarks didn't seem to care about their friend. A woman had taken out one of them? So what? That meant more meat to share between the rest of them. As one, they surged forward, like a wave about to drown its victim and pull them down to the briny deep.

A loud sound; a constant humming and thrumming drone, snapped into existence. Around the crash site, a flash of green light appeared. It conjured out of nowhere, spinning and twirling in a semi-physical plate of plasma. The light flashed in a circle, appearing to skirt past each of the remaining Gundark herd. Then it disappeared, a small metal object flying back the way it had come.

But Riyo couldn't watch it. Her attention was wrapped by the Gundarks. One by one, they fell, crashing forwards or crumpling into piles. The only similarity each of their deaths had was that their huge, apish heads went rolling away, bounding a few metres from their bodies before coming to a stop. One landed not three metres from Riyo's hiding spot.

And then another figure appeared in the opening of the cracked hallway. The Tholothian. Caloc's Jedi Master. Slowly, Riyo turned back to the look at the beasts remains. At their claws. At their teeth. A shudder seized her as she considered what the Gundark's could have done to her. She could hear the two women talking not far away and crawled a little closer towards her hiding place's opening, hoping to hear them a little clearer.

"…handled that myself.", the navy officer was telling the Jedi, "You didn't need to butt in."

"You keep believing that, Lieutenant.", the woman smiled as she limped over. Her voice raised and she yelled, "I think you can come out now, miss. The Gundark's are gone."

Riyo froze, clenching up. Did they mean her? They had to, right? Did they really come all this way for… her? The youngest handmaiden? She slowly, nervously crawled out of the shadows, stepping slowly. The two women were looking right at her, but their eyes were not menacing. They were soft and kind. She wasn't exactly used to that look. She especially was not used to that look from two ladies who had just massacred a pack of wild animals without taking a scratch. She swallowed down a lick of fear. If they could do that to beasts… what could they do to her? The thought was quick, almost… uncontrollable. But now it was a worm wriggling at the back of her mind – a statement she could never forget: These two were dangerous.

As though to counteract that thought, the Jedi bent down to her eyelevel. A warm smile crossed Stass' face. "So you are the wayward handmaiden. It's a good thing we found you when we did. Gundark's don't tend to take prisoners."

Again, what could have happened flashed through Riyo's brain. Her, dead and cold, while one of the beasts ripped off her limbs and began to feast.

"What was so important that you had to race down here to find it?", the navy officer asked, ripping Riyo from her thoughts. The woman stood tall, eyes steadily on her, arms folded across her chest. It was then that Riyo realised those knifes she had seen before, they weren't knives. Actual spines of hardened… bone, maybe… protruding from the skin in the woman's arms. They were just visible now, poking out of the skin and sinking slowly back beneath it. There were four more spines sinking below her forehead's skin. A fly buzzed around lieutenant's head and she spun to swat at it, revealing a neat line of five holes down the spine of her shirt, the tips of more spikes quickly disappearing. She shuddered again. That lady was a living knife disposal.

Stepping forward, Riyo thrust the over-stuffed satchel she had realised too late she had risked her life for towards them. "Here."

The Jedi nodded sagely, "I thought this might be it. Caloc never got a chance to grab his things before he departed."

Riyo had a question in her mind, and slowly raised her hand. The kinfey lady barked out a snort, "You don't need to raise your hand, girl."

That caused a spark of fire in Riyo's heart. A tiny drop of sass dripped from her lips as she spoke, "Don't call me 'girl'. My name is Riyo."

"And I am Telle.", the officer smiled mischievously back. There was almost a hint of amusement in her smile. Possibly even respect. But Riyo didn't notice that. Her parents had taught her better. She had been rude to this woman, one who had come to save her. A tinge of regret coloured her cheeks.

The Jedi seemed calmer, "Did you have a question, Riyo?"

And Riyo finally got to ask the question that had been on her lips this whole time, ever she had pulled the emergency harness down over her shoulders and locked it in place. Ever since the ship had rumbled and bucked. Ever since she woke up from a blackout she didn't know had happened, only to find them on land. On a planet. So she asked that burning question. "Where are we?"

"If I had to guess, we are most likely on Shili.", Stass replied, looking around their crash site. "At least, that is what the flora here is telling me."

Riyo nodded. Another planet? Awesome. And on the surface too. Not just docked at one of the Shili fuelling ships. But there was another question. "And where exactly is Caloc?"

At this, the two women shared a look. It was Telle to answered this time. "We have absolutely no idea."