Bastila Shan blinked slowly as the world around her came into focus. Her head, her arms, everything hurt.
She pushed her pain to the back of her mind, thinking of the Jedi code, There is no emotion there is peace, she chanted in her mind. Bastila even tried to get up so she could take better stock of her surroundings but she found that her hands were shackled. The cuffs were too tight and they bruised her skin. Her memories returned slowly, the ambush on the Endar Spire and the onslaught of the Sith, and how she had been made to leave almost immediately after the Sith had begun boarding the vessel.
Bastila swallowed, finding her throat to be parched, and dry like sandpaper, but she hoped that wherever she was, at least the crew of the ship was safe.
The Jedi closed her eyes, trying to find a way to break out of the metal cuffs, but found it difficult to concentrate. She could feel dried blood sticking to her skin and the sting of the stun blasts had been more painful than she could've imagined. But she would not let the pain overwhelm her.
She reached out with the force, intent on breaking free of her bonds, but much to her surprise, found that she couldn't. Her eyes flew open, something had weakened her connection, in a daze she looked around, suppressing the panic that coursed through her veins.
There was darkness all around her, its inky blackness was choking and all-consuming.
Something hovered at the end of her cage, and she gasped as the hazy shadows solidified into the form of a figure. It stalked closer to her and her dread intensified as she recognized who it was. As always, he towered over her, and even in the dim light, she could make out his stygian robes billowing and his bronze armour that gleamed.
Suddenly, he kneeled so he was level with her, and she saw a flash of gold eyes before gloved hands reached for her throat. Oddly enough, they didn't wound her, or cut off her breathing, hands were just…there, clasped around her neck in warning.
Her breath stuck as he leaned closer and whispered, his voice smooth like honey but brimming with dark promise, "Jedi," he murmured, "You should have just killed me."
She opened her mouth to respond, but his fingers tightened further in admonition before he continued, "Look what happened, you failed in your little mission. Now, I am free."
No, she thinks.
The crew would be fine, she reasoned with herself, the Council's work had to be holding up, it couldn't have possibly unravelled so quickly. He did not remember who he truly was, he could not. The Jedi had made sure of that, in her failure she had not unleashed the fury of the Dark Lord on the galaxy.
"Are you so sure about that?" He taunted.
Yes, she thinks, she hopes. He would never make her trust in the Jedi or the High Council waver.
He hummed, considering her words, "We'll see about that. You and the Council," a low laugh, "You'll pay for what you did."
She wanted to tell him what she had told herself every day since the Council announced their decision – what they'd done was to win the war, it was for the sake of the galaxy, because Bastila Shan alone could not save the Republic but he interrupted her again and said, "But first, you must wake. Get up Bastila."
With that, Bastila jerked awake from her nightmare, immediately her hands flew to her throat and came in contact with cold, hard metal.
A neural collar, she thinks, dazed.
𓆩⟡𓆪 𓆩⟡𓆪 𓆩⟡𓆪
"I can't believe that actually worked," Carth remarked as he and Ariv walked away from the elevator. The Sith guards posted there had allowed the duo access to the Lower City. They had only seen the two of them in uniform and hadn't even confirmed if they had been stolen, but Ariv would not complain, in any case, it all worked out for them.
Whatever he had learned from the locals about the Lower City seemed to be true. The place looked somewhat unclean, with graffiti, dirt, and grit staining the dull walls. The entire place was lit up by bright lights that lined almost every ceiling. There was a distinct musky odour in the air, likely as a result of the fact that the towering skyscrapers of the Upper and Middle City blocked out the sunlight, preventing it from touching anything here.
Ariv pulled up a map of the Lower City he had procured from the datapad he picked off an unconscious Sith. The Lower City wasn't too big, there was a long corridor that marked the main entrance to the place, it eventually branched off into different parts of Taris' seedy underbelly. A pair of walkways led to apartments on the eastern and western side, between them, there was a place called Jayvar's Cantinaalong with two undisclosed locations denoted only two insignias – a pair of blasters crossed over each other and what looked like a swoop bike in front of a city's skyline. There was no information available about these two places, but Ariv assumed that they had something to do with the gangs that ran the Lower City.
Furthest of them was the entrance to the Undercity – where the pods had crashed and what would be their next destination if Ariv and Carth failed to find Bastila here.
A group of youngsters leaned against a railing, observing another group that was playing cards on a nearby table. A Rodian came forth, exhaling smoke, cigarra clutched in one hand, and jeered, "Beks are nothing but bantha fodder! The Vulkars are the strongest, isn't that right?""
A Neimodian rose from the Pazaak table, "We'll teach you who's the strongest, you're dead meat, Vulkars!"
Ariv stared at them for a second, confused but almost immediately the two groups pulled out their blasters and fired at each other. What he presumed to be the Hidden Beks put up a good fight, but they were outnumbered and fell to blaster bolts before Ariv or Carth had a chance to intervene.
The two stood in place for a second, shocked at how people who couldn't possibly be older than twenty were capable of such needless violence. But, one of the Vulkars saw them and snarled, "Let's give these Sith the warm welcome they deserve!" The group again raised their blasters to fire but he and the Captain beat a hasty retreat before anything could happen.
𓆩⟡𓆪 𓆩⟡𓆪 𓆩⟡𓆪
Ariv pulled off the armour and dumped it on the bed of the small room. He quickly wore his usual clothes, a deep black jacket, and pants with a white shirt. Carth had done the same, except he'd worn his favourite garish orange jacket.
They had, yet again, decided to hole up in an apartment, storing their uniforms there. Hopefully, they would spend less time here than they had in the apartment in the Middle City.
"So," Ariv began as he and Carth walked towards Jayvar's Cantina, "You know quite a bit about me, don't you, Captain?"
Carth laughed bitterly, "Not enough, my friend."
Ariv frowned at his tone but continued, "Well, I barely know about you and we're stuck here for the time being, I hardly think that's fair."
Carth nodded, "That makes sense. Well, I've been a star-pilot for the Republic for years. I've seen more than my share of wars… I fought in the Mandalorian Wars before all this started. But with all that," he added, voice grave, "I've never experienced anything like the slaughter these Sith animals can unleash. Not even the Mandalorians were that senseless."
Ariv nodded and Carth continued sadly, "My home world — Telos IV — was one of the first planets to fall to Malak's fleet."
He sounded bitter and hurt now, "The Sith bombed it into submission, and there wasn't a damn thing our Republic forces could do to stop them."
Ariv frowned, understanding the pilot's sadness, his own home world of Deralia had suffered because of the Mandalorians when he was only a young boy. "I'm sorry, that must have been painful for you," he began, "But you talk like it's your fault, that you failed somehow."
"It shouldn't be my fault. I did everything I could… I followed my orders and did my duty," Carth responded, voice breaking, "That shouldn't mean I failed them! I didn't!"
"Them?" Ariv wondered out loud, "Do you mean the people of your home world?"
"Yes. No… no, that's not what I mean. I mean… I'm sorry. I'm not making much sense, am I?" Carth answered, and Ariv was about to ask him another question but the Captain shut that down with a simple, "You probably mean well with your questions. I'm just not accustomed to talking about my past very much. At all, actually. I'm more used to taking action… keeping my mind focused on the business at hand. So let's just do that. If you have more questions, ask them later."
Ariv wanted to protest but respected the other man's privacy, but he could tell that Carth did not wish to discuss Telos further so he said instead, "I didn't mean to upset you."
Carth nodded, accepting his apology Ariv realised that they had already reached their destination. Passing a muscular and tall Trandoshan bouncer, the duo went into the cantina.
𓆩⟡𓆪 𓆩⟡𓆪 𓆩⟡𓆪
Javyar's Cantina was like a proper Outer Rim Cantina – scantily clad dancers weaved elegantly around poles, the thick, cloying scent of spice and liquor blanketed the air and the pazaak tables were crowded with eager patrons looking to make quick credits.
The music blared on and Ariv walked around, taking stock of the place. There were far more aliens here than in the Upper City, and they mingled with humans, droids, and other aliens alike. It was odd to see that the so-called Lower City criminal humans were kinder to other species despite the blatant and disgusting anti-alien sentiments prevalent on Taris, perpetuated by the Upper City pricks who considered themselves to be above others.
Ariv sighed, calling for a simple drink, and observed the rest of the Cantina. He could go to one of the card tables but he was in no mood to play, there was a bounty hunting office as well, and after some enquiry Ariv had learned, much to his relief, that no one had come around to collect the one on Bastila's head. There was also a dancing room, but it was the last place he wanted to go to.
In the bright haze offered by the neon lights, Ariv saw a man clad in heavy armour with a dark blue coat over it. He carried with him Mandalorian heavy blasters along with a few grenades strapped to his belt – he was probably a bounty hunter. A trio of gang members approached the man, wearing jackets with an insignia of blasters crossed behind a skull, but he waved them away. They became increasingly frustrated and one Rodian yelled in broken Basic, "Hey, you not talk like that. We just want say hi to big, bad bounty hunter Calo Nord!"
His partner quipped, "Nah, this can't be Calo Nord. He's supposed to be tough. This guy's nothing but a runt!"
"One," was all the man – Calo – said.
"One? What that mean? You be funny, tough guy?" The Rodian asked in broken basic, incredulous, and threatening.
"You know who we are, Calo?" The other one bragged, "We're members of the Black Vulkar gang! You don't want to be getting funny with us, tough guy." So this is what the Vulkars looked like. Ariv knew if he wanted to find out about Bastila he'd need information from the gangs. But he wasn't keen on asking this particular one since he'd witnessed those poor Beks be killed by them unprovoked, but it wasn't like he had a choice.
"Two," Nord said, interrupting Ariv's thoughts.
"Me no understand. One? Two? Why he count? He trying to count how many of us is against him?" The Rodian asked again, puzzled and his friends looked at him, and finally, the third one spoke, "It's three against one, Calo. What do you think about those odds? Well? You have something more to say?"
"Three," Nord said, coldly and within a split second pulled out a flash grenade. Ariv immediately got to his feet, abandoning his half–drunk glass, his instincts of a soldier taking over, but there was a massive flash of white and the sharp sound of blaster fire echoed in the cantina, loud and clear even above the music. Ariv blinked as his vision cleared and saw that the Vulkars were lying on the floor, dead. The crazy bastard had shot the dumb kids for commiting the crime of annoying him.
The music stopped for a second and everyone stared at Nord but not even ten seconds later a pair of cleaning droids appeared, dragging the bodies away. The music returned, and if possible, was even louder than before. Everyone went back to their drinks, dance, and games, pretending nothing had happened. Carth had made his way to stand near Ariv at some point and was looking at Nord's retreating form with horror. A proper Outer Rim cantina indeed.
"I told you to leave me alone!" The shrill voice of a teenager cut through his musings, "– Give me some space, Bug-eye! Your breath smells like bantha poodoo!" Carth and Ariv shared a look, someone was in trouble, and they set out to find the source of the argument.
They did not have to look for long; a young cobalt-skinned Twi'lek was glaring daggers at a pair of Rodians – both of whom were wearing jackets emblazoned with the Vulkar's insignia. They responded in their native Rodese, "Little girl should not be in bar – this is no place for her. If little girl is smart, she run away home now."
"Who are you calling little girl, Chuba-face?" She responded, getting angrier, his blue face turning purple.
"Little girl need lesson in manners!" The Rodian threatened again, and Ariv moved closer to step in – while a bar wasn't the best for a young girl to be in, it did not mean that anyone had the right to harass– "Just a sec boys!" The Twi'lek girl interrupted, brash and overconfident and almost gleefully, "Zaalbar!" She called, "…A little help here? I need you to rip the legs off some insects!"
Ariv glanced at whoever this Zaalbar was and watched as a Wookiee responded in mournful Shyriiwook, "Mission," Ariv assumed this was the Twi'lek's name, "I'm busy, they just brought my food!" And indeed, there was a massive pile of dishes in front of the Wookie, who was holding a large fork in one hand and looked like he had been a second away from devouring his meal.
"Quit complaining," the Twi'lek girl – Mission, objected, "You can finish later! Besides, you need the exercise, so get over here!" she ordered, and much to Ariv and Carth's surprise, the massive form of the Wookie Zaalbar unfolded itself from a chair and walked towards the group.
Immediately, the Rodian's massive eyes widened further in fear and they backed up, retreating, "We no want trouble with Wookie! Our problem with you, little girl."
Mission rolled her eyes and declared, "You got a problem with me, then you got a problem with Big Z. So unless you wanna take on my furry friend, I suggest you and your greenies get out of here!"
"Lucky girl lucky she has big friend." The Rodians muttered, and with that, they turned around and left the bar. Ariv and Carth shared a look again, it seemed like this girl did not need their help.
Mission saw them looking at her and smiled, "Say," she said excitedly, bounding over to where he stood, "I don't recognise you and I know pretty much everyone in the Lower City. You must be new around here, I guess that makes me and Big Z your welcoming committee!" She added, grinning, and Ariv was taken aback by how…friendly she seemed.
"You showed a lot of guts dealing with those Vulkars, kid." Ariv praised, genuinely surprised at the girl's bravery, and then introduced himself.
She smiled and offered, "I'd give you a tour, but the streets down here aren't safe. But if there's anything you need…"
Ariv cocked his head wondering out loud, "How do a Twi'lek kid and a Wookie become best friends?"
"We just kind of fell in together!" Mission answered, "It isn't easy on your own here in the Lower City – everyone's always looking for a reason to push you around." She said, a bit sadly.
"So we noticed," Carth interjected, "Still, you two seem like an odd pair."
"When I met up with Zaalbar it seemed like a good match. I knew we could look out for each other." She declared, proud, "With my street smarts and Big Z's muscle, we make a great team."
Ariv realised that Mission had likely grown up here and must know a lot about the Lower City, perhaps she might've even heard about what happened to Bastila. He ought to ask her – at least they'd find out something.
𓆩⟡𓆪 𓆩⟡𓆪 𓆩⟡𓆪
"So," Ariv began as he and Mission trekked towards the Hidden Bek's Base, "Why did Brejik leave the Beks?"
"When Gadon went blind everyone figured he'd step down and appoint Brejik in his place. But Gadon figured Brejik wasn't ready yet. He wanted him to wait a few years." Mission answered, "But Brejik was too impatient. He left to join the Vulkars, and ever since he's been waging a war to wipe Gadon and his Beks from the face of Taris! The gang war in the Lower City is the Vulkar's fault. They're the ones killing everything that moves out on the street, it's like they've gone insane!" She added, frustrated. It seemed like she cared deeply about the Beks — it wouldn't be too surprising since they might be the only family or friends she had apart from the Wookie. The thought made Ariv much more upset than he assumed he would be.
"So I've noticed," was all he said instead.
"Anyway," Mission said cheerfully, "Forget about that ungrateful oaf! Here we are!" she added, gesturing to the large door that had a pair of Trandoshans standing guard in front of it. Clearly, the gang had taken measures to improve their security, thick durasteel doors barred the entrance to the base and the guards kept vigilant watch, their beady eyes constantly scanned the area, looking for threats.
Mission dragged him in and Ariv saw the Hidden Bek's base for the first time. It was large, there were quite a few members present – all were busy, either sorting credits into boxes, putting away blasters, swords, and grenades, or running around with oil-stained aprons carrying datapads and tools.
The young Twi'lek led him deeper inside, past a set of massive doors that opened to unveil a garage where swoop bikes had been parked. There were at least seven of them – all of which were the latest models. Mechanics flocked around them, working almost in a frenzy while the riders sat on round tables, chatting and drinking.
But they did not linger near the garage, instead, Mission brought him before an older man. Before Ariv could approach him, a pale straw-coloured Twi'lek woman blocked his path, hand on her blaster, "Hold it right there!" She exclaimed, "Who are you and what is your business with Gadon?"
"Calm down, Zaerdra," came the voice of an older man who Ariv presumed was Gadon Thek himself, "Nobody is going to try anything here in the middle of our own base. It would be a suicide mission."
He unfolded himself from his seat to come and stand before Ariv. The leader of the Hidden Beks was tall, with deep brown skin and a clean–shaven head. He wore his gang's colours proudly and a single silver hoop pierced his eyebrow. Pale eyes scrutinised Ariv and his companion. Mission had told Ariv earlier that Gadon Thek had lost his eyes in a swoop race and now relied on cybernetic implants to see.
"You're too trusting, Gadon," Zaedra admonished, "Brejik and his Vulkars want you dead. Anyone we don't know is a potential threat, and it's my job to make sure you're safe!"
"Do you want us to start attacking strangers on sight, Zaerdra – like the Vulkars do? I will never let it come to that! Now step aside and let them pass," he responded calmly and she huffed but stepped away, keeping a close eye on Ariv.
𓆩⟡𓆪 𓆩⟡𓆪 𓆩⟡𓆪
"So the Vulkars still think of Bastila as a Republic Officer?" Ariv confirmed with Gadon who nodded.
"That could work to our advantage, maybe she can even find a way out of the Vulkar's base herself!" Carth added.
"Be that as it may, she likely won't be at the main at the main base itself, Brejik will not risk someone as important as she is," Gadon answered truthfully. The three of them sat around a small table in the Bek leader's office, discussing how they could free Bastila from the Vulkars. Gadon had agreed to help them out in exchange for his prize accelerator that the Vulkars had stolen. Ariv and Carth had no choice but to agree to their terms, given that there was no alternate way for them to get to the Jedi.
"It won't hurt to look," Ariv said, "But how are we supposed to get into the Base?"
"It won't be easy – the front doors are locked tight. But I know someone who might be able to get you in the back way – Mission Vao," Gadon said and Carth stiffened, immediately opening his mouth to protest but Zaedra, who had been standing guard at the door beat him to it.
"Mission?!" She exclaimed, "Gadon, you can't be serious! She's just a kid – how is she supposed to help them with this?"
"Mission's explored every step of every back alley in the Lower City," Gadon explained calmly, "Besides, she knows the Undercity sewers better than anyone. If anyone can get inside the Vulkar base, it's her."
Carth sat up again, "Absolutely not – she's a kid! Zaedra's right! I won't risk her life like –"
"There is no other way," Gadon insisted, "She's is the only one who knows her way around the Undercity so well and she has the necessary skills to get past the Vulkar's security."
Before the Captain could say anything more, Ariv cut in, "Gadon's right. It has been four weeks since the battle overhead, and now finally we've come to close to finding Bastila. The swoop race is the day after, stars know who she'll end up with, and what if that person knows who she really is?"
Carth huffed and sat back and said, "Alright, but promise me you'll make sure she's okay?"
"Of course," Ariv said earnestly.
"Where can I find her now?" he asked then, turning to Gadon once more. Mission had disappeared shortly after she had introduced him to the Bek's leader and Ariv was eager to start looking for the accelerator, given how little time was left before the Season Opener.
"She and her Wookiee friend Zaalbar are always looking to stir up a little excitement. They like to go exploring in the Undercity, despite the dangers." Gadon said, "Your best bet is to look for her in the Undercity. But you'll need some way past the Sith guard post at the elevator."
Ariv and Carth shared a look, it was a good thing they hadn't discarded their uniforms from earlier, "We've got the uniforms and the papers," Carth said.
Gadon's eyebrows raised in astonishment, "Very well. I suggest you hurry. The swoop race is coming up, and we need time to fit in that accelerator. Good luck, young man, you're going to need it."