He stood with his hands folded behind his back, watching the battle unfurl before him. The massive viewport of his ship afforded him an excellent view of the scene outside. Rays of emerald and crimson streaked by, stark against the inky blackness of space. Occasionally, a ship exploded into burning chunks of metal as the quad laser cannons found their mark. The Republic was barely holding up against the dual assault of his Malak's star destroyers.
Of course, they were also at a severe disadvantage because their precious Jedi was behind enemy lines instead of using her powers to support them.
He could sense her – along with a few others drawing closer. He waited patiently for their arrival, knowing that their numbers would be thinned down by the time they reached the bridge, he also knew that some of his men would die as well, but at least this way he'd be able to weed out the weak ones.
Four had made it so far – one of them was her – he hadn't been surprised that the Council had sent Bastila to do their dirty work again, just like how they'd sent her in every battle against him while they sat back in the safety of their Temples and Academies away from any conflict.
The Jedi Council was full of cowards.
The bridge of his ship was almost empty, save for a few Dark Jedi. He wished to see how they'd hold up against the Knights. He was severely disappointed to see all but one of them fall, Bastila duelled with the last one, and he could tell that the Sith was holding back, his master's warning lingering in the forefront of his mind but clearly, his Jedi did not have any such qualms. Oh yes, his judgement had been absolutely correct, she would make a fine replacement for Malak.
While he'd been focused on the Sentinel, an armoured Republic soldier had dared to approach him – with a blaster of all things, a most clumsy weapon – what a fool, he'd choked him to death from afar. Then, the Jedi turned their attention towards him. Bastila was still engaged in a fight with that Dark Jedi. Perfect, he'd deal with her later – once he was done with the rest of the Jedi.
Of the three other Jedi, two were mere Knights, while there was only one Master. They decided that their attack would be more effective if they tried to overwhelm him by attacking from all sides, but they'd been wrong, he'd beaten worse odds. He ducked beneath a sharp green blade, sidestepped another blue one and blocked a violet lightsaber with his own. He broke the blade lock and advanced on the Master who tried valiantly to subvert the lightning that surged from his fingertips, but the Jedi did not pay attention to the spear of midnight black – energy summoned using the dark side that pierced his skin and then he collapsed to the floor, one with the force.
The remaining two Knights were even easier to deal with, his duel against them hadn't lasted refused to see the error of their ways and hence, they had to be eliminated. It was a pity they didn't realise the truth about the Order they were so devoted to.
He turned his attention back to the last of the Jedi and saw her finish off the Sith she had been duelling with. At last, it was just the two of them on his bridge. She was breathing hard from the exertion of her recent fight, he could tell that she was slightly terrified but kept it well hidden.
"You cannot win, Revan!" she called out to him, her golden blades casting her features in an almost ethereal glow, her signature spiking. She was powerful, yes, but she was wrong. He would win, and he'd make sure to turn her.
After all, he'd spent too much time and too many resources pursuing her across the galaxy.
She struck first, her style elegant and graceful as always, and their blades clashed in a flurry of crimson and aureate. She ducked beneath his disarming moves, avoided the lighting spurting from his fingers but after a long few minutes, he tired of their play and pushed her away from him using the Force. She went flying into the dark, hard durasteel walls of his bridge.
He did not miss the expression of sheer terror and consternation that crossed her face – however, her gaze was not directed on him, but on the transparisteel windows behind, and he turned, trying to see what had caught her attention. But it was too late, the massive ship rocked beneath his feet, green and red light filled his vision before all he knew was pain.
𓆩⟡𓆪 𓆩⟡𓆪 𓆩⟡𓆪
Ariv awoke suddenly and sat up on the bed. He was in unfamiliar surroundings, again and he blinked, trying to clear his vision and remember how he'd ended up here. His memories, well some of them, came trickling back along with the events that transpired on the Endar Spire.
The last thing he remembered was confirming that the Jedi — Bastila had indeed left the burning ship.
Ariv got up then, slowly taking stock of his surroundings. He was in a room and he could see a few things strewn about carelessly. The glow poles thankfully had been dimmed, and in the low light he could see long dark walls that were entirely bare except for a few stains and cracks in the dull, ageing paint. They arched beneath tall pillars that rose all the way up to a high ceiling. White light shone on a table where a medkit had been left open along with a blaster. A few empty ration wrappers along with canteens had been dumped on another table between two musty red arm chairs littered with crumbs.
Ariv understood he wasn't alone, while there was no noise in the apartment (he assumed his room was one of few) apart from the chatter and honking filtering in from the outside, he was certain there was at least another person in this place.
Why was it always his head, he thinks as a sharp pain pierced his skull, and in response he raised his hand to press his fingers to alleviate the pain, only for his gloved fingers to come in contact with cool kolto bandages. Evidently, someone had cared to bandage his wounds. Perhaps it was the same person who had been using this apartment. He really hoped it was the Captain — the last person he'd seen before passing out.
Ariv heard footsteps and tensed, hands instinctively going to the blaster that lay on the low table nearby. It didn't hurt to be cautious.
The short door of the room slid open to reveal the tired face of Captain Carth Onasi and Ariv relaxed a little, earlier trepidation disappearing entirely. The other man broke into a wide, relieved grin and he said, "Good to see you up instead of trashing in your sleep!"
Before Ariv could answer, Carth continued, "I'm Carth, one of the Republic soldiers from the Endar Spire. I was with you on the escape pod, do you remember?"
Ariv nodded in lieu of an answer, eyes darting about the place to figure out how he'd ended up laying on a bed in a rundown apartment.
Carth only stared at him for a moment before asking him, his voice concerned, "You must have been having one hell of a nightmare. I was wondering if you were ever going to wake up."
Ariv blinked, trying to remember the nightmare he had before waking up, but the last vestiges of his dream dissipated from his mind. It was…odd to say the least. He had no idea why he had seen that at all.
Realising that Carth was still staring at him, Ariv replied, a bit frustrated because he knew he would find any answers yet, "I had a strange dream. Like a vision or something."
Carth nodded in response and offered, "I'm not surprised. You took a serious blow to the head. You're probably having all kinds of strange dreams. I wouldn't worry too much about it."
"...Alright," Ariv conceded and then asked the Captain, "Where am I? How did I even end up here?"
"Well," Carth began, "You've been slipping in and out of consciousness for a couple of days now, so I imagine you're pretty confused about things."
That much was true.
Carth continued then, assuring him, "Try not to worry. We're safe…at least for the moment. We're in an abandoned apartment on the planet of Taris. You were banged up pretty bad when our escape pod crashed, but luckily I wasn't seriously hurt. I was able to drag you away from our crash site in all the confusion, and I stumbled onto this abandoned apartment. By the time the Sith arrived on the scene, we were long gone."
So Ariv had been right, they were indeed in an apartment.
"Thanks," he said, looking at the Captain. He was grateful that the other man had chosen to save his neck instead of leaving him to the mercy of the Sith.
Carth shook his head, "You don't have to thank me. I've never abandoned anyone on a mission, and I'm not about to start now. Besides," he added, suddenly more serious, "I'm going to need your help."
Ariv was about to ask him why, and Carth must've understood so he replied, "Taris is under Sith control. Their fleet is orbiting the planet, they've declared martial law and have imposed a planet-wide quarantine."
That was not good for them, especially if they needed to get off-world. Who knew how long the Sith blockade would last?
"Well," Ariv began, "I suppose we can't just wait for the Republic to come rescue us. So, where do we start, Captain?" He asked the man in front of him, hoping that Carth hadn't spent the last few days only by his bedside.
"For starters, we need to find Bastila. I've seen your records – you understand a remarkable number of alien languages – it should come in handy while we're stranded on a foreign world. Once we reunite with the Jedi, I am certain that with her help, we'll figure out a way off this planet." Carth advised.
"And we have to find her first because…?" Ariv asked.
"That smack to your head did more damage than I thought," Carth said, disappointment lacing his words.
"Bastila's a Jedi. She was with the strike team that killed Darth Revan, Malak's Sith master. She is the key to the whole Republic war effort. The Sith must have found out she was on the Endar Spire and set an ambush for us in this system. For the sake of the Republic, we have to try and find her."
Right, he thinks, that's why the objective of their mission on the Endar Spire had been to ensure her safety.
"But," he began, uneasy, doubt creeping into his heart, "How do you even know if she's alive?"
Carth's face fell and his shoulders slumped, "I don't," he admitted, "But Bastila's young, and she has a powerful command of the Force. I mean, we survived the crash landing, so I'm willing to bet she may have, too. Besides," He added, glancing out the windows, expression haunted, "What's the alternative?" he whispered, "I mean, if she's dead, then no one can stop Malak and his Sith from wiping out the Republic. And I'd rather operate on the assumption that she survived." The sudden surge of hope in eyes was enough for Ariv to believe that the Captain made sense.
"Alright," Ariv conceded, "Where do you suppose we start?"
𓆩⟡𓆪 𓆩⟡𓆪 𓆩⟡𓆪
"I still don't understand," Ariv began as they walked towards the cantinas, through the long, winding corridors of the brightly lit apartment complex, "How can someone – even a Jedi be so important?"
Carth sighed, "Bastila is no ordinary Jedi," he explained, "She has a rare gift the Jedi call Battle Meditation. Her powers can influence entire armies."
"How?" he asked, sceptical.
"Through the Force Bastila can inspire her allies with confidence and make her enemies lose their will to fight. Often, that's all it takes to tip the balance in a battle. Even Rev–" At his raised brow Carth cut himself off and continued, "Of course, there are limits to what she can do. From what I know, it requires great concentration and focus to maintain it."
Ariv decided not to inquire about what the Captain had left unsaid and instead asked, "But I didn't feel any different on the Endar Spire, and Sith seemed far from discouraged."
"The attack on the Endar Spire happened so fast," Carth elaborated, "She never even had a chance to use her power. Bastila barely got out alive, and now she's trapped here just as we are."
Ariv nodded, "Speaking of here, how much do you know about Taris?"
"Taris was once a magnificent planet-wide metropolis of towering skyscrapers, like Coruscant," Carth began, half smiling, "But that was a long time ago, its golden years are long past. The Upper City, where the rich citizens live, is…is still pretty safe. At least if you've got money. Things have gotten worse since the Sith occupied it," he added, shaking his head and Ariv frowned.
"From what I hear, the wealthy live on the tops of all the tall towers. But farther down things have degenerated. The Lower City is nothing but a slum overrun by swoop-bike gangs waging a never-ending war for control. And the Undercity is, well, even worse. The lowest level of Taris is a wasteland overrun by rakghouls; mindless, diseased mutants that attack on sight."
"Sounds awful," Ariv commented and Carth nodded, expression grave. Before he could say another word, the duo stumbled upon the sight of a Sith soldier and a pair of battle droids cornering two Duros and a green-skinned Twi'lek, "Alien scum!"the Sith declared, his voice garbled with static through his helmet, "Get up against the wall! This is a raid!"
One of the Duros protested, "There was a patrol here just yesterday, and they found nothing! Why do you Sith keep bothering us?"
Without warning, the sith gunned him down with his rifle and Ariv's mouth dropped with horror at the incessant and unnecessary violence as the soldier announced, "That's how we Sith deal with smart-mouth aliens! Now the rest of you get up against the wall before I lose my temper again!"
Ariv stepped forward, furious, "Back off! They didn't do anything!"
"Humans hiding out with aliens?!" The soldier sneered, "They're Republic fugitives! Attack!"
Ariv was ready, sword out in seconds, he ducked beneath the sloppy fire from the Sith and Carth returned fire with his blaster. The war droids fell to the floor, several holes in their chassis, wires sputtering, as he duelled with the soldier. The sith had not been prepared to deal with melee weapons and was hit by a bolt that ricocheted off Ariv's blade. Within minutes the fight was over and the halls were quiet again.
"Poor Ixgil," The remaining Duros murmured to his fallen friend, "He should never have talked back to that Sith," shaking his head he turned to Ariv, "Thankfully you were here to step in and help us human," he added, his large red eyes earnest.
"I'm glad I could help," Ariv began, "But I'm sorry for your friend."
"This isn't the first time the Sith have come in here to cause trouble for us, but hopefully it will be the last." The Duros admitted.
"Won't someone come searching for this patrol?" Carth inquired, worried.
"Don't worry about the bodies," the Duros assured, "I will move them so it looks like they were killed elsewhere. That should throw the Sith off the track. With any luck, they won't be bothering us again for a while."
"Well, I don't see too many of your kind around here," the green Twi'lek spoke up at last, "Most of the residents in this run down old apartment are illegal aliens. My name is Larrim, by the way."
"My name's Ariv," he began, sheathing his sword, "This is my friend Carth."
"Well," Larrim greeted, "You might be interested in knowing what I have for sale. It's not cheap, but in a place like this it could mean the difference between life and death."
"I'm not quite interested in buying anything at the moment," Ariv said smoothly, both he and Carth did not have enough credits to purchase any weapons, given that most of their belongings went up in flames aboard the Endar Spire, "But, you mentioned something about illegal aliens living here?" he asked.
Thankfully, Larrim did not mind his refusal and answered, "By law, most aliens aren't allowed to have a residence in the Upper City of Taris. They allow a few of us Twi'leks up here, but for the most part it's humans only. But no self-respecting Upper City human would want to live in the apartments in this dump," he continued, gesturing to their surroundings, "So the landlord has been renting out the apartments illegally to aliens. Better than letting them sit empty, I guess. Otherwise you get squatters and people hiding out from the authorities living in the abandoned apartments, and they don't pay rent."
And we're one of them, Ariv thinks, "Alright," he said instead, wanting to wrap up this conversation, "Thanks, I guess I'll see you around." and then he and Carth hurried out of the corridor.
𓆩⟡𓆪 𓆩⟡𓆪 𓆩⟡𓆪
They had left their apartment in the Middle City – the lower part of the Upper City and finally made it to the topmost levels. Clearly what he had heard about Taris was true: the privileged surrounded themselves with all the trappings of prosperity, oblivious to the suffering and oppression of those forced to dwell far below them.
Even from the distance he could see glittering spire-shaped skyscrapers that dominated the planet's landscape. Lights twinkled at the top of the white buildings as speeder traffic weaved around them. Large platforms rose high above the ground, and people milled about as the lights dotting the edges blinked to life in the waning sunlight. Sculptures of twisted metal hovered a few feet off the ground, glinting in the fiery sunlight. At every few metres a shallow pool of water topped off with a fountain spurted out clean water. The few landing pads that he could see were all occupied with ships that had been grounded in the wake of the Sith blockade. Salvage droids and Sith soldiers patrolled about, looking for any Republic sympathisers.
It reminded Ariv of Coruscant – but at the same time, this place didn't hold a candle to the Galactic Capital where he'd spent most of his teen years, training first to become a scout and then a soldier.
"What you did was brave," Carth commented as they walked, "But we gotta keep a low profile," he added.
"I couldn't let that officer kill those innocent civilians!" Ariv protested.
"I know, but you don't know the Sith like I do," Carth said, "I've heard some grim stories about the Dark Jedi interrogation techniques. They say the Force can do terrible things to a mind – twist it, wipe away your memories and destroy your very identity. But," he placated, "I figure if we don't do anything stupid we should be okay. I mean, after all, they're… they're looking for Bastila, not a couple of grunts like us." The very reminder of the Jedi's fate being a question mark on a planet under the Sith's rule seemed to make Carth anxious and terrified.
Deciding to keep this observation of his a secret, Ariv conceded, "Fine, I'll be more careful." They found themselves in a darkened alleyway, lit by a few neon signs hanging over doors, and it was quiet except for the sound from the nearby crowds or vehicles. "Davik says you missed your last payment," the voice of a dark-haired man clad in a jacket interrupted. "He doesn't like you missing payments!" An Alqualish added in huttese, warning an old man who raised his arms in self defence.
Bounty hunters, Ariv realised, and they were bullying a poor old merchant.
"Here – I've got fifty credits! A down payment," the old merchant offered, voice shaking, "That should buy me some time, right?
The young bounty hunter scoffed, "Sorry, you're out of time. Now it's all or nothing. Davik can't have people not paying his debts." he threatened.
Colour drained from the merchant's face, "But I don't have that much! How can I give you credits I don't have?" he begged.
"That's too bad." the Alqualish continued, "Davik's going to want to make an example of you! You're coming with us." and he made to grab the merchant's hand who backed away, yelling, "No – help! Somebody help! They're going to kill me!"
Ariv stepped forward but Carth stopped him, stepping in front and whispered, face grim, "Remember what I said."
"I do," Ariv hissed, "We have to be careful about drawing attention to ourselves, but are we just going to let them drag this guy off?"
Perhaps they must've not been as quiet as Ariv assumed because the three swivelled to face them, "Hold on a second," the man called, "Looks like we got ourselves a witness here."
"Davik doesn't like witnesses." the Alqualish piped up, and Carth said, "Leave this man alone or you'll have to deal with me!" earlier warning discarded entirely now that they were caught anyway, "We ought to teach you to mind your own business!" the Alqualish exclaimed and whipped out his blaster, but Ariv was quicker and he already managed to deal with the other bounty hunter while Carth tackled the alien.
Even the merchant pulled out a blaster from his robes and fired, realising that he was no longer outnumbered, and killed off the alien. "Thank you – I owe you my life!" He said, grateful, "Those bounty hunters were going to take me away and kill me!" his voice turned regretful then, "My wife warned me not to take a loan from Davik." he added, shaking his head. "But, I can't pay him back. It's not good to owe a crime lord money. He'll just keep sending more bounty hunters after me until I'm dead."
"Maybe I can help you." Ariv offered.
"You already helped me by saving me from those bounty hunters," the merchant insisted, "Unless you have a spare 100 credits to give me so I can pay off Davik, there's nothing else you can do."
Ariv glanced at Carth who nodded in approval, "Here's 100 credits," he said, pulling out the amount, "Take them."
The merchant gaped at him, "You're giving me 100 credits? Just like that? I... I don't know what to say!" he stammered, "Thank you! Thank you!" He said excitedly, like Ariv had given him a new lease on life and accepted the credits.
"You've saved my life! Thank you! Now I can pay off Davik," he muttered, and Ariv couldn't help but ask, "Who's Davik?"
"Oh," the merchant began, "He's a crime-lord and long-time member of the Exchange which I'm sure you've heard of –" Ariv nodded, he did know about the interstellar syndicate, having come across them from time to time even on far-off backwater worlds.
"– Anyway," the merchant continued, "He oversees Exchange operations here, his Estate is in the Upper city as well. He employed dozens of mercenaries and enforcers to keep Taris under his unofficial control. That's all I know. I suppose should go, better take these credits to him right away and get out of here before more of Davik's goons appear, you should do the same." he advised, before hurrying out the alleyway.
𓆩⟡𓆪 𓆩⟡𓆪 𓆩⟡𓆪
Music blared around him, and a throng of people danced on the floor, humming the singing along the catchy tunes of the sparkle–bop songs. Colourful lights shifted as Ariv squeezed his way through the crowd and it became increasingly obvious that most of the cantina's occupants already had a light buzz.
Carth had also managed to shove his way to the bar, this wasn't their first trip to the cantinas tonight, because the Captain thought it was better that they scout for information in the local pubs. They had been doing this for a few hours and so far all they'd heard were a few rumours about Republic escape pods crashing in the Undercity; he hoped that at least one of them had been Bastila's.
Now, here they were, sitting in a cramped room with rowdy, drunk patrons, chasing any leads they could find. So far, the duo had found absolutely no other useful information about the whereabouts of the Jedi. But Ariv had not wasted all of his time, he had played a few games of Pazaak with a deck he'd bought from this man named Garouk. It had earned them some much needed credits.
It was nearly midnight – they had been out for hours, and decided this would be the last place they'd check out before calling it a night. Ariv was bored out of his mind, and tired too, despite having woken up from his days-long sleep a few hours ago. He turned away from Carth who had been chatting with a group of people a few feet away. Sighing, he traced the droplets of moisture that ran down the side of his glass. He sipped the drink quietly, leaning against the wall and observing the scene.
Suddenly, large holoscreens mounted high on the walls flashed to life and the music and chatter died down almost immediately as a loud voice announced, "Welcome, one and all! I draw your attention to the duelling ring! Here, two combatants will battle for your viewing and gambling enjoyment. Now, I hope all your bets are down, because we're ready to roll! In this corner, I give you... Gerlon Two-Fingers!" thundering cheers rose from the crowd, "Poor lad is still smarting from his blaster blow-up a few years ago but, it doesn't change the fact that he used to be one of our best!" The view screen showed an almost packed arena with stands that rose up into the night sky, and the camera focused on a human man clad in a combat suit with a band wrapped around three fingers – presumably Gerlon Two-fingers standing across a much older man as the announcer elaborated, "Against him we've got the ever persistent Deadeye Duncan, looking to climb the ranks yet again!" scant few people clapped in excitement while a timer counted down the seconds to the match.
Deadeye Duncan dropped his blaster as soon as the duel began, people in the cantina groaned, and a disgusted sneer crossed Gerlon's face before he picked up his rifle and shot at the old man without a moment's hesitation. The stun bolts hit the man as he fumbled with his blaster and he went down.
"And, to nobody's great surprise," the announcer drawled, "Deadeye is down again. Don't worry, folks – he's just unconscious. As usual. Our medics will have him up and about in a bit. Well, that was quick, wasn't it? So I give you the winner... Gerlon Two-Fingers!" Ariv cocked his head, intrigued, as the view screens went dark again.
Carth had come to stand next to Ariv again and he asked the Captain, "Anything useful?"
Carth shook his head, "Let's just go," he suggested, sighing.
Ariv clapped the Captain on his shoulder, "Don't worry, we'll try again tomorrow," he proffered as they made their way out of the cantina.