Ariv surveyed the crowd gathered on the towering stands of the swoop platform. The sheer number of people residing in the Lower City was more than he had thought. It was clear that this race meant a lot to the people of Taris.
"Well," the Ithorian began in accented basic, courtesy of the translator he wore, "We're just about done here. Be careful kid, push the engine too much and it will overload. Remember, you can't save her if you're dead."
"Of course," Ariv responded, he turned his attention back to the track in front of him. It was littered with obstacles that would be revealed later – as if handling the extremely fast swoop bike wasn't challenging enough. Other riders were already ready, their pit crews making final checks on the bikes. Ariv sighed, all he had was a bike that would likely explode in his face before he made it to the finish line.
At least he had some experience riding a swoop bike – he had never participated in a race though, especially one where the stakes were so high. He and Carth had decided that the former was more suited for this, after all, he had been a pilot before being Captain, and fighting in two wars could make up for the lack of experience, but the man was injured, nursing his wounds back in the apartment above that they were squatting in.
So, the responsibility of winning the Swoop race and getting Bastila Shan back to the Upper City without the detection of the Sith fell to Ariv.
"Watch yourself out on the track, rookie," An Aqualish that Ariv recognised to be Phirk warned, "Every year we lose a couple of you first–timers. The Beks' numbers as it is are dwindling without having them die on the track. Just be careful… and good luck."
Ariv heard the sincereness in the other Beks voice and smiled behind his helmet, "Thank you," he said, "Good luck to you too."
There was still a few minutes before the race began, a Rodian pointed out Ariv to fellow Vulkars and announced, "Hey, look at this: fresh meat on the track. Gadon must be getting desperate if he's grabbing first timers off the street. When we Vulkars win this year, it'll be over for you Hidden Beks!"
The group burst into raucous laughter, Doba continued, "Well don't get your hopes up, rookie…no first year–rider has ever won the swoop racing season opener."
Ariv ignored their mockery and paid attention to his bike. He had to win, this wasn't just personal: he had to win for the sake of the Republic – their war effort would be doomed without Bastila. He placed his hands on the swoop bike that could kill him and took a shuddering breath, trying to settle the sudden bout of nerves.
The Kadas'sa'Nikto that Ariv recognised as Redros – the racer that he needed to beat – joined with Vulkars and glared at him. Ariv ignored him too, and took much–needed calming breaths. The race would begin any minute now.
?￢ﾟﾡ? ?￢ﾟﾡ? ?￢ﾟﾡ?
Ariv glanced at the massive holoscreen once again in disbelief, so far, he was at the top and Redros was close behind. This was the last stretch of the lap he needed to make. Beneath his hands, he could feel that the bike was already past its limits, but he had to try.
He willed the swoop to go faster, ignoring the alarms that blared in warning and the bike's speed increased beyond its capacity. Come on, he thinks, just a few hundred metres more, if he lost here and now, everything he had done to find Bastila would be for nothing. The bike jerked violently to the left and somehow Ariv managed to right it. The momentary lapse had given enough time for Redros to catch up, and Ariv pushed the bike harder.
He couldn't believe his eyes when he saw that the bike had essentially begun to fall apart but somehow managed to stay intact – something was keeping the bike in shape. Ariv thanked all that was holy in the galaxy and pushed the bike further paying no heed to the screeching in his helmet. Thick, grey plumes of smoke suddenly emerged from under the hood – his engine was finally caving into the stress it had been subjected to.
If Ariv was the luckiest bastard in the universe he had a few seconds at most before his bike (and consequently he) was reduced to hundreds of pieces of twisted metal and flesh. The smart thing to do would be to slow down and jump off – but clearly, he had been lacking basic common sense these past few weeks since literally everything he'd done had directly put him on the path to certain destruction.
But there was a chance that he might just win, so he pushed on, and the bike managed to pick up even more speed. A scant few metres were all that remained between him and victory and suddenly, before he knew it, Ariv was past the finish line. Slowing down the bike as quickly as he could, he immediately he jumped off once it was steady enough for him to do so. Around him, more racers swept in. He did not know whether he had actually won – Redros had passed the finish line almost at the same time as he had. He pressed his lips together – knowing he'd have to intercept the Nikto somewhere in the Lower City and help get Bastila away from him – if it came to that.
Ariv turned his attention to the large screen displaying everyone's time, his swoop bike safely away from the rest of the participants, but suddenly a loud bang echoed through the arena – his swoop finally fulminating in a flash of bright light. A massive fire consumed it – reducing the bike to a scrap heap within seconds. Ariv could only gawk at it in surprise before the holoscreen above the track announced the winner – his mouth only dropped lower in shock when he saw that he had indeed won.
His gaze swung between the flaming bike that was being doused and the screens displaying his victory. He couldn't believe he had been seconds away from dying a fiery death along with his bike, nor could he believe he'd actually done it. Ariv took a deep breath as the Beks surrounded him, congratulating him for his victory – ushering him to the private room where he would be awarded with the 'prize'.
As difficult as it was, Ariv had to let go of the momentary high and euphoria of victory, he still had to make sure to get Bastila back to their hideout in the Upper City without the Sith finding her and then make sure they all got off this damn planet.
Calming the adrenaline rush he walked into the enclosed room – to where the famous Jedi waited for him.
?￢ﾟﾡ? ?￢ﾟﾡ? ?￢ﾟﾡ?
"Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the winner of this year's annual swoop race! Everyone put your hands together and show your appreciation for one of the most daring and best swoop riders that this track has had the privilege to see!"
The audience burst into a deafening roar and Ariv winced from the sudden increase in noise, people were screaming 'Mysterious Stranger!' over and over again, and he was extremely grateful that Gadon Thek had not submitted his real name, and that the helmet he wore on the swoop bike obscured his face.
And he really appreciated the fact that this award ceremony was secluded and away from the crowd, and anyone who wasn't on this part of the platform did not know what he looked like.
Ariv needed any anonymity he could get, he still had to get Bastila away from the Lowe City before anyone realised that she wasn't a mere Republic officer, and then he had to also make sure she got off this planet without the Sith knowing. So yeah, he did not appreciate the publicity and was gripped by a sudden and odd longing for a mask he could wear to keep his identity a secret.
Subterfuge was a lot easier when one's face was not plastered on holo screens.
It took Ariv a moment to realise that the Duros was still speaking, and he heard him finally finish his long spiel and say, "Through your skill and courage you have proven yourself the premier swoop rider on Taris, and brought great glory to the Hidden Beks! Now, here to present the champion's prize: Brejik, leader of the Black Vulkars himself!"
Took them long enough, Ariv fumed silently, he needed to get Bastila far from the likes of the Black Vulkars, she had been under their abuse for too long already.
Brejik stepped forward, opening the straps of the holsters that housed his blaster and vibroblade, he then walked towards Ariv and announced to the people there, "People of Taris – hear me! Before I present the so-called champion of the Beks with their prize, you must know that this off-worlder is a cheater!" His grating voice rose with every word with barely suppressed anger. Brejik continued to yell, pointing an accusing finger at Ariv.
"He made use of a prototype accelerator in his bike! A clear and unfair advantage! Because of such treachery, I have been forced to withdraw the Vulkar's share of the victory prize!"
He conveniently left out the part where his men had stolen that very part and tried to fit it in their own bike, or that it had been stolen back by Ariv himself. More of Brejik's men gathered behind their leader and unholstered their weapons as well.
These fucking two–bit gangsters, he thought, hand reaching for his own sword, hopefully, these idiots have not figured out who Bastila really is.
All the more reason for him to hurry, he then cast a worried glance at the woman in question.
He could not quite make out her form clearly from this distance but he could tell that she was still in her cage, sitting demurely, but something told Ariv that she wasn't simply just doing nothing – that despite her state, she was up to something.
Blinking back the odd feeling he turned his attention back to the argument in front of him and hissed, "Don't you dare try to cheat me!"
Brejik continued to yell obscenities and accuse the Beks of deception and before Ariv could get another word in, the announcer interrupted Brejik's bullshit by saying, "You cannot do this! This goes against all our most sacred traditions – you know the rules: no one is allowed to withdraw a victory prize after the race."
"You old fool!" Brejik spat, "Your archaic traditions mean nothing to me – I am the wave of the future! If I want to withdraw the prize then I will!"
"You must understand," he continued, turning to Ariv, "Today, scavengers who work for me have found something most…interesting at the site where this woman's pod crashed." With that, he pointed to a cylindrical lump kept on a nearby table. It was covered by a Republic officer's uniform and one of the Vulkars ripped the offending garment away to reveal a long grey object, the silver metal gleamed in the light and Ariv – and everyone on the platform recognised what it was – after all, a Jedi's weapon was legendary.
"See?" Brejik continued, "That woman is a force witch – a Jedi!"
"I don't care." Ariv grit out in response, "I won this damn race and ergo I win the prize." A part of Ariv felt disgusted that Bastila was continuously being referred to as a prize, as though she was an object and not a person, but he couldn't let Brejik know that he was a soldier for the Republic, so he continued, "It's not very difficult to understand, no? So let her leave with me and I'll be out of your hair."
"He's not wrong Brejik!" Several Beks piped up in his defence, "You cannot cheat our champion simply because your racers lost!"
"Well," Brejik began, "I shall give you and the Beks one last chance." He turned to address Ariv then, "Leave quietly, Mysterious Stranger," He warned, his tone mocking, "Or you will regret it. I will not repeat this."
"Fuck this nonsense, Brejik." Ariv responded, "You're a damn liar and a cheat. I'm not going anywhere until the Jedi is free."
"Don't say I do not give second chances. Vulkars, to me!" He called, "Kill the swoop rider! Kill them all!" And then chaos broke out on the platform. Apparently, Ariv wasn't the only one sick of all this chatter, Vulkars and Beks began firing at each other and blaster shots rang out.
The two gangs had begun another chapter in their long conflict. Ariv did not pay too much attention to the brawl around him and made a mad dash towards Bastila's cage, deflecting the bolts shot his way and returning fire when he could.
It seemed that he wasn't the only one who wanted to make certain no one else got their hands on the Jedi.
Brejik stood a metre or so away from Bastila's cage and almost conversationally told Ariv, "Now you see why I can't hand the Jedi over to you, after all, it would be a most foolish decision. Her description also matches with someone the Sith are looking for, so, if I want, I can sell this woman on the slave market or to the Empire," a lecherous smirk crossed his face, whoever offered him a better deal was something that went unspoken, "Thankfully, I had the Jedi fitted with a neural collar to keep her mind unfocused. Now, nobody can stop me, not even you!"
"I might have something to say about that." A clear voice rang out through the chaos, and Ariv's eyes turned to the source. The guard in front of Bastila's cage, along with Ariv and Brejik were violently pushed back with an invisible force.
Ariv caught himself before he could go careening headfirst into the hard durasteel wall. The bars of the cage Bastila was in were ripped open and the neural collar she was forced to wear fell to the floor with a resounding clank.
"What?!" Brejik asked flabbergasted, "How – you! You were restrained by a neural disruptor! How could you have possibly summoned the will to free yourself?"
The woman picked up the guard's fallen vibroblade and coldly told Brejik, "You underestimate the power of a Jedi's mind. A foolish mistake — one you won't live to regret."
And then, she charged at the leader of the Black Vulkars. Ariv got to his feet, intending to help her, and attacked the Vulkars who had attempted to defend their boss. He made it to her side fast and fired his blaster at anyone who came too close while Bastila deflected the bolts that Brejik fired at her using the force. Brejik then fled further away to the western end of the platform and left his guards to handle the situation.
The members of the Hidden Beks then quickly left once they realised that they were not exactly needed in this fight, and Ariv could not begrudge them for it, after all, Gadon Thek had kept his word and Bastila was free. Better they heal their wounded and recuperate their strength – the battle for Taris' freedom was far from over.
Besides, Ariv and Bastila were more than capable of handling the Vulkars.
But as the battle progressed Ariv was sure the Jedi either did not even notice his presence or perhaps she did not give it much thought with how focused she was on fighting, yet he kept an eye on her to make certain she was not overwhelmed, and a part of him was in awe of Bastila Shan.
She fought with a practised grace, her russet hair flying wildly from the braids she had coaxed it in, her storm–grey eyes flashing with anger and it was as though the force bent to her very will with how she was able to deflect the bolts, knives and other weapons hurled her way with ease.
It was not long before Brejik – along with all the Vulkars on the platform – were dead, thanks to their combined effort.
Bastila was only a few feet away from Ariv, back turned to him, and he overheard her mutter something along the lines of those bloody Vulkars and think twice next time before trying to keep a Jedi prisoner.
She shook her head with disgust and he called out to her, hesitant, "Bastila?" She then turned to him, her eyes wild, a slight limp in her step and he saw she had several wounds on her arms and legs. She was also swaying slightly and blinking as if she were in a daze, working off the effects of the neural disruptor.
"As for you!" she hissed, "If you think you can collect me as a prize – wait. You!" She snarled, anger quickly morphing into shock and horror and before he knew it she was attacking him, her vibroblade narrowly missing his face as he ducked instinctively.
"Wait!" He called out to her, but she continued to swing at him and he was forced to raise his own sword in defence.
"Bastila, listen to me!" He pleaded, trying to reason with her.
It was not entirely shocking that she would be hostile towards him, after all, she had probably never really noticed him before and presumed he had come here to take her away and make her a slave. But she refused to listen, and he somehow managed to knock the vibroblade from her hand.
In hindsight, it must not have been the smartest thing to do since she remembered that her lightsaber was somewhere on the platform. Her hand reached out and Ariv stood confused for a second, not understanding what she intended to do before a sleek metal cylinder came flying through the air and into Bastila's open hand.
She ignited it and golden light suffused the air, twin blades the colour of the first rays of the rising sun, burst forth from the silver hilt.
Within seconds she had him flat on his back, yellow blade humming inches away his throat and his sword a few feet away from him.
She was panting heavily and she said, "What are you doing here?!" Ariv blinked trying to understand what she meant, but first, he had to make sure she did not kill him. He raised his arms, palms open – a gesture of surrender.
"I'm a Republic soldier," He said slowly, trying not to spook her. "My name is Lieutenant Ariv Drayen, I was transferred aboard the Endar Spire – under your command – a few weeks ago, before her mission to Admiral Doddona's fleet."
Bastila blinked in response and held her blade closer to his throat. She looked like was going to accuse him of lying and stared at him for a tense moment before realisation drew on her.
"Right," She began, as though she was remembering something. "You're one of the soldiers with the Republic fleet now."
Now? He thought, well, he had been a scout, but he'd left his old job in favour of joining the Republic's war against the Mandalorians. Carth had mentioned that the Jedi had placed him aboard their doomed starship, so it wasn't entirely surprising that Bastila would know of his past.
She shut off her lightsaber and the blades disappeared with a hiss. Ariv got to his feet and picked up his sword.
She eyed him warily and said, "I am sorry, I should not have attacked you without reason. It is most unbecoming of a Jedi."
"It's all right," He replied, meaning every word, "If I had been kept restrained by a collar for weeks and pumped full of drugs, I would be wary of others too."
She sighed and shivered, and then he noticed then her state of…undress. The Vulkars had placed her into a tight brown garment, the neckline of which disappeared halfway above her breasts, thin straps barely holding the flimsy thing upright. The rest of the outfit wasn't much different, her pants clung to every inch of her skin. Ariv respectfully averted his gaze, cheeks flushing. Don't be a creep, he admonished himself, as she raised her hands to cover her exposed arms and rub at them in an attempt to keep warm. He took off his jacket and placed it on her, she looked up at him, confused, and he pulled up the hood, covering her face. "What are you doing?!" She asked, indignant.
"Making sure no one recognises you." He explained. He'd given it to her because she seemed cold and clearly uncomfortable with what she had been made to wear, "I don't know how many more Vulkars are out there. There's an apartment in the Upper City – it's a safe hideout – but I need to be able to get you there without you getting injured even more. Come, I have stashed a speeder nearby, it has kolto too."
"Ok," Bastila responded, voice barely louder than a whisper. He could tell she still did not trust him, but she clutched the jacket closer to herself, "Thank you," she said then, and he could tell she was genuinely grateful.
Once they were in the Korrealis speeder, he handed her the few medpacs he'd kept there, "It's not much," He admitted, "But it should hold you for now?" She nodded, pulled up the sleeves of his jacket and began treating her wounds.
Luckily the apartment they were holed up in had more kolto and Bastila could spend the night resting to make sure that she was going to recover fully from her myriad of injuries.
They sat quietly for a bit before Bastila broke the awkward silence in the speeder by asking him, "How did you end up racing for these swoop gangs anyway?"
"It's a long story," He began, "But winning the swoop race was the only way I could rescue you."
"Rescue me?" She scoffed, "Is that what you were trying to accomplish by riding in that swoop race? Well as far as rescues go, this is a pretty poor example, you nearly crashed multiple times and raced like an inexperienced idiot with a massive ego. Also, your bike exploded not even a minute after you got off."
Ariv's mouth dropped open in indignation, "Excuse me?!" He choked out, "I managed to win and I rescued the damsel in distress too, didn't I? Besides, how do you even know what happened in the swoop race?"
"My cage was close to the screen, so yes, I could see exactly what was going on. And in case you hadn't noticed, I managed to free myself from that neural restraint collar and cage without your help. In fact, it would be more accurate to say that I saved you. Brejik and his Vulkars would have left you for dead if I had not stepped into that fight. You're lucky I was here to get you out of this mess!" She answered, oddly defensive.
"Oh no, no, love, you have it all wrong," Ariv said, and Bastila's face twisted, and he could see splotches of red on her cheeks – either caused by anger or his teasing. Perhaps a combination of the two.
"I didn't need your help with those Vulkars," he added, "I can handle myself! You seemed like a lonely helpless prisoner until I came along."
"I may have been a prisoner, but I was far from helpless. A Jedi never walks alone – the Force was with me. But," she admitted begrudgingly, "I suppose I am being unfairly harsh on you, after all, you did try to save me – even if it didn't go quite as planned. So, let us speak of more important things – we're not entirely out of danger yet."
"You don't have to worry about that now," Ariv interrupted, "You need to recover your strength first."
"You do not have to stop on my account," Bastila argued, "I shall be fine, but it is my priority to get the rest of the crew off this force-forsaken planet."
"Of course," he agreed. "But who put you in charge?" He added, giving her a sidelong glance.
She fumed further and replied indignant, "The Republic, remember? I was the fleet commander. But, there's no reason for you to get all worked up over nothing. So tell me – do you know how we are to get off this planet?"
Ariv glanced at Bastila and found that she was already looking at him expectantly, he bit his lip, suddenly nervous, and before he could think twice he replied, "Carth and I are already working on a plan to get off Taris."
They most certainly were not.
To make matters worse, Carth and Ariv had no damn idea about how to get off this planet without getting killed or captured by the Sith.
But, he found solace in the fact that his statement was not entirely false, one part of the plan had been to find Bastila and he successfully had done just that.
"Carth Onasi is alive?" Bastila exclaimed, voice filled with relief, "Finally, some good news! The Captain is one of the Republic's best soldiers – he has proved himself a hero a dozen times over. And he sent you here to save me?" Her voice quietened a little with the last line and Ariv merely nodded in response.
"Well," Bastila admitted then, "Perhaps I misjudged you."
Ariv shrugged in lieu of answering, Carth's demeanour and almost desperate desire to find Bastila had suggested that there was some familiarity between the two.
She continued, "Carth wouldn't have sent you if he wasn't confident in your… abilities."
Sighing, she added, "Forgive me," she added – despite my Jedi training, I still tend to act a bit rashly sometimes."
"Don't mention it, I was doing my duty. Besides, I shudder to think about what would happen to the Republic without you." Ariv conceded and saw Bastila stiffen in response.
He wondered what he said wrong this time, but before he could ask her about it, she cut in and said, "Please take me to Captain Onasi, right away. The sooner we get off this planet – the better. We can't let the Sith know that we're here."
Ariv sighed but agreed, it was going to be a long journey off this force–forsaken world.
?￢ﾟﾡ? ?￢ﾟﾡ? ?￢ﾟﾡ?
Ariv sat on the table with his head in his hands. He was still tired, the search for Bastila and subsequent rescue had left him exhausted. The planet's lone sun had been at its peak in the Tarisian sky when he had returned with the Jedi in tow. Carth had been pleased to see that the two of them would be fine and Bastila had been all too eager to begin planning for their escape, despite the fact that the little kolto he had given her was far from enough.
Before she could do much, Ariv had all but threatened to forcefully put her in the tank, telling her that if she did not recover fully, it would only make matters worse. Carth had agreed with him (that Bastila needed to convalesce, not that she ought to be shoved into a tank). Realising that she was outnumbered, Bastila conceded and allowed Carth and him to help her in the single kolto tank. Onasi then proceeded to tell him that Mission and Zaalbar had gone to the cantina to see if they could find any help.
Then, the Captain had told Ariv to take a nap for a bit as well, because he could tell how exhausted he was after everything, assuring him that he could keep watch for a little while longer and that he would hear about what happened during the swoop race later. Ariv agreed, knowing that there was no point in arguing.
That had been seven hours ago.
Now, it was already night, and Ariv could see the towering skyscrapers of the ecumenopolis light up, he could hear the sound of speeders whizzing by and the nighttime traffic. Mission and Zaalbar had not yet returned and he was starting to worry for them.
Not to mention the fact that he still had not figured out a way to get them all off-world safely, despite what he had told Bastila. The first bit of news Carth had given him on waking had been that he had already pulled the Jedi out of the tank, that she was just freshening up, and was feeling perfectly fine. That had been good to hear, but he then also proceeded to tell him that the Sith had strengthened their blockade around Taris.
He was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard the clink of a ceramic mug and turned his attention to Carth who had brought him a much–needed cup of caf. Muttering a quick thank you, Ariv clutched the warm mug in his hands, thinking about how he could find a ship, and get past the blockade — out of the Sith's control in this sector without them being captured or worse, killed.
Ariv stifled a yawn into his palm, normally the seven hours of on-and-off sleep would've been enough for him, except, he had odd dreams again. They had been hazy, half formed images of gruesome battles and distant long-lost worlds. He did not know what they meant, or why he was seeing them at all. But that wasn't all – he'd seen the Jedi too – or at least her nebulous form, with amorphous twin golden blades and he swore he could have felt her mysterious battle–altering powers at play.
His attention was brought back to the scene before him when the door to the room where the Jedi in question had spent the evening opened, and Ariv turned to see her poking her head out.
"Hello," she greeted, voice a little raspy and he and Carth answered in kind. She was already wide awake and Ariv was happy to note that apart from a little bruising that would fade with time, Bastila seemed completely fine. The few hours of kolto had done wonders.
"Come Bastila," Carth said quickly and eagerly, "I've made all of us some caf." The pilot's mood had much improved since Bastila's return and his recovery, and honestly, Ariv could not blame him, given how important she was for the Republic's war effort.
"Thank you," Bastila responded, taking a seat opposite him.
"How are you feeling?" He asked the woman in front of him, and she replied simply, "Quite well, thank you." Ariv really wanted to ask her if she would understand what was happening to him but Carth spoke up interjecting and voicing Ariv's feelings, "I'm so glad that you're alright. "Now that you're here," he continued, "Things are finally looking up. We can devise a plan to get off this planet."
Right.
He could ask her about the crazy dreams later, not when the Sith were breathing down their necks, and then his eyes widened, realising what Carth had just said.
Oh kriff.
Ariv winced remembering what he told Bastila, but Onasi had gone and blabbered to their Commander. He hoped that she would not recall— "You mean you don't have a plan already?!" She asked, disbelief colouring her tone. She turned to him, her gaze accusatory, and he shrugged, taking a sip of his caf and nearly gagged. It seems that the good Captain had an aversion to adding cream or sugar to it.
Swallowing the bitter sludge he answered, "Carth and I refused to leave this planet without you, so we tried to find you first, that was step one of our plan – which as you can see was quite successful. Don't worry," He added, hoping to placate the Jedi, "We'll figure it out."
She only stared at him for a moment, before she shook her head, disappointed. "I see," she added, vexed and authoritative at the same time, "Now that I'm back in charge of this mission, perhaps we can start doing things properly. Hopefully, our escape from Taris will go more smoothly than when you rescued me from Brejik." The last jab was aimed at him and Ariv rolled his eyes in response.
Carth sighed and offered, "I know you're new at this, Bastila, but a leader doesn't berate her troops just because things aren't going as planned. Don't let your ego get in the way of the real issues here."
The Jedi stared at him, thoroughly miffed, "That hardly strikes me as an appropriate way of addressing your commander, Carth. I am a member of the Jedi Order and this is my mission. Don't forget that!"
Carth got even more frustrated and replied, "A good leader would at least listen to the advice of those who have seen more combat than she ever will!"
"Both of you, stop this! It isn't helping." Ariv interrupted before Bastila or Carth could continue arguing. "Bastila," He added, turning to her, "You aren't showing much leadership ability right now and Carth – she is right, you can't talk to your commanding officer like that!"
Chastised, Bastila slumped in her seat and said quietly, "It's true that I don't have much military experience; perhaps I should not be so quick to judge. I apologise, Carth. Of course, I'm happy to listen to your advice. What do you suggest we do?"
Carth smiled, settling down beside the Jedi, "First off: we can't get hung up on who's in charge; we all need to work together if we want to get off this rock. The answer's out there, we just have to find it."
"Alright," Bastila replied. "I've been meaning to ask, where is the rest of the crew?"
Ariv and Carth froze in response. Even though the Captain did not show it, Ariv knew that the loss of the Endar Spire and her crew had hurt him deeply. But it was the time of war, and both men had spent enough time in the Navy to have it drilled in their heads that victory came with a price.
Every time Ariv thought of Trask and the Jedi who sacrificed their lives so that he could get off the ship safely, he was filled with profound sadness and fury, which the rational part of his brain pushed away, reasoning that such losses were inevitable in battle.
Ariv shifted uncomfortably before answering, "There were a hundred and fifty people aboard, of which only forty-seven escaped, including us. We found roughly twelve injured soldiers in the back of a sympathetic doctor's clinic, all of whom were on their deathbeds, and fifteen in the Undercity – but they were turned by Rakghouls. Carth and I were unable to find the rest, and presume that they were killed, either by Tarisian locals or the Sith."
Bastila heard his report and her shoulders slumped in response before she said, "I see," but Ariv could tell she was masking her disappointment and hurt.
Carth filled in the awkward silence by telling Bastila of what had transpired on Taris so far, and how they met Mission and Zaalbar.
Before they could say anything more, the door burst open and the duo in question came bounding into the apartment. "Ariv!" Mission called, "You're back! I'm so happy – and you actually won the race! That is so cool. By the way," she added, turning to Bastila, "My name is Mission Vao, I helped these two," she gestured towards him and Carth, "to get into Black Vulkar base, and steal the prototype accelerator that helped Ariv win the race."
Bastila opened her mouth to say something but the Twi'lek only continued her excited chatter, "I've heard so much about you Bastila Shan — these two were obsessed with finding you. Oh, and this is Zaalbar, he may seem scary but he's a softie at heart." She grinned madly, pointing to the Wookie who waved as she barreled on, "It's nice to finally meet you!"
The Jedi only stared in shock before her expression morphed into fury and she hissed at him and Carth, indignation bleeding into her voice, "You told me a young Twi'lek was helping you, I assumed she would be, at most, a few years younger than me. That is a child!"
Carth and he winced at her sharp voice as the Mission protested, raising her voice, "Hey, I'm not a child!"
"Oh, she can't possibly be older than thirteen!" Bastila accused.
"I'm fourteen, actually!" Mission interjected, voice shrill, sounding every bit like the bratty teenager she was.
"That's hardly better!" Bastila exclaimed.
"Alright!" Carth interjected over their yelling, "That's enough. Look," he began, "I know that it is extremely unsafe for us to have involved Mission in our search for you – but we were getting desperate. There was simply no other choice."
"You trust me, don't you Bastila?" He continued, giving her a meaningful glance which left Ariv confused, "I would never put a child's life in danger like that."
Bastila took a deep breath in, before saying, "I understand, Carth."
She then turned to Mission, smiling softly and awkwardly, "Thank you for your help, you are a very brave girl."
Mission beamed in response, "It's ok!" she exclaimed.
"Now where have you been, young lady?" Carth addressed her, "It's been eight hours since you left, I'm sure you didn't spend all of it in a cantina."
"I was at the Hidden Beks' Base! Gadon sends his thanks to you Ariv, this victory would help the gang get their footing back in the Under City." Ariv wanted to say that there was no need for such formalities, but Mission continued, "And before I forget, another Twi'lek told me that Canderous wanted you to meet him at Jayvars'."
"Canderous?" Ariv asked, incredulous, "The Mandalorian that works for Kang?"
"A Mandalorian?!" Bastila gasped, "Surely this is a trap – they've always been allies to the Sith. You mustn't go."
"I don't know Bastila, he might have important connections, we should at least hear him out." Ariv countered.
"Connections, yes – to the Sith," The Jedi insisted.
"Come on, Bastila," Ariv assured, "If Ordo wanted to hand you over to the Sith already, their troops would be swarming this place as we speak. Besides, he may not even know who you truly are."
Bastila sat back at that, clearly pondering his words. "Ok," she said finally, "We shall go see this Mandalorian, but I will accompany you. I shall be able to sense if he is being deceitful."
He wanted to protest, but she interrupted, "Come on, you know I shall be of more help than a liability, Mission, Carth, and Zaalbar will watch over the apartment." Sighing, Ariv accepted, knowing that she was right.
?￢ﾟﾡ? ?￢ﾟﾡ? ?￢ﾟﾡ?
Ariv squinted in the low neon light as he tried to find the grizzled and battle-hardened Mandalorian but to no avail. Jayvar's was crowded already, full of throngs of people intent on spending their night dancing away and consuming as many drinks as possible.
Sidestepping a wailing Nautolan, he went to the bar to buy himself and Bastila a drink. He flagged the bartender – a Besalisk man who held glasses and bottles in all four hands. "A Spiced Jedi Mindbender for me and a Sith Scorcher for the lady, both virgin," He asked, offering his credit chip, the bartender nodded and instructed the nearby droids to begin making the drinks.
Once they were done, he held the glasses carefully, especially Bastila's glass, given that it had a small fire illuminating it. He went back to the dingy little booth that Bastila had somehow managed to find. Placing the cheap crystal on the table he scooched next to the Jedi on the cramped seat, "Sorry," he said, when he accidentally brushed against her and quickly put a few inches between them.
"It's alright," she reassured him, "It is not your fault this place is perpetually crowded."
"Uh, thanks." He responded.
The two stared at one another for a moment, before Ariv broke eye contact and reached for the drinks, offering Bastila hers. She held the flaming glass hesitantly and asked him, "What, um, what is this?"
"A Sith Scorcher," he answered, and she grimaced at the name and he grinned as the fire died out. "Try it out," he said, sipping his Jedi Mindbender, "Don't worry," he added, "There's no alcohol, I know we're on a mission, but we need to blend in."
Bastila sniffed her drink before taking a slow sip, she smiled softly and then took another, he stared at her for a moment, taking her features in. She looked at him questioningly and he felt his cheeks warm, Bastila opened her mouth to possibly berate him for staring at her like a creep, but before she could say anything, a gruff voice called, "I saw you in the swoop race." Ariv and Bastila nearly jumped from the intrusion.
An older and clearly well-built man pulled a chair across them, "Canderous." Ariv greeted, and the Mandalorian nodded, "Very impressive." he added, voice approving, "You seem like you know how to get results. That's just the kind of person I'm looking for."
Ariv's brows furrowed and Bastila cut in, "What are you talking about?" she asked the man who was dressed in Beskar'gam and clutched his helmet in one hand and what Ariv was sure was a beverage strong enough to peel paint off in the other.
Canderous looked at her for a beat and said, "Buying your prize a drink, what a gentleman." Bastila stiffened, Ariv knew she was going to tell him off but the mercenary must've seen her furious expression and he guffawed, bending forward to whisper, "Don't take it to heart, Jetii. I know who you are – or at least I figured out that the two of you wiped out half of Brejik's cronies. Ni ganar nayc copikla at turn gar jaon at te darjetii. vi Mando'ade ganar or'atu ijaat than ibac."
The Jedi only blinked before she understood what the Mandalorian had said, her eyes widened in shock before he said, leaning away "There is no love lost between me and the Republic, the Sith will only torture you or slaughter you," he explained, chugging his paint remover, "Or both," he added as an afterthought. "And like I said, there is no honour in that."
"What do you want from us, Canderous?" Ariv asked, hoping the other man would get to the point, "I need to get off this kriffing planet," he replied.
"I work for Davik Kang and the Exchange; the hours aren't great, but they promised me a fortune to work for them and I have nothing better to do. Mandalorian mercs like me are in high demand. But lately, Davik hasn't been paying me what he promised and I don't like getting cheated, so I figure it's time for me to break the Sith quarantine." he explained.
Ariv asked him, sceptically, "And how exactly, do you intend to get past a planet-wide blockade?"
"Well, I have a plan," Canderous said, almost offended that Ariv could ever assume otherwise. "But, I can't do it alone. I need someone I know can get the job done to help me. That's where you come in." he answered, pointing at Ariv.
Bastila rolled her eyes and cut in, "You don't need to ally yourself with this… person, Ariv." She wrapped her hand around his bicep, "We should move on while we can."
"I ain't talking to you. I'm talking to him, aren't I?" Canderous argued, "Look, kid, I saw you win the Season Opener, and I started thinking. Anyone crazy enough to race like that is probably crazy enough to break into the Sith military base. I need someone to steal the launch codes from the base. Without those codes, any ship leaving the atmosphere will be disintegrated by the Sith fleet's automated defence guns."
"Sith Base!" Bastila hissed, "Absolutely not! We need to get away from the Sith, not go right into the heart of their territory."
"I don't need you to go Jedi, your boyfriend here might just be enough." Ordo countered calmly.
"He's not my boyf–" Bastila began, indignant, but Ordo cut her off, "Here's the deal: you bring me those launch codes and I can provide the vehicle to get off the planet – Davik's flagship, the Ebon Hawk!"
Ariv would admit he was intrigued, but there was a slight problem, he was sure Kang wasn't going to let them take his ship and be on their merry way, "How are you going to manage that?" he asked.
"First, you bring me the launch codes. Then I'll tell you the rest of my plan."
Ariv sighed, rubbing his eyes, "How am I supposed to get inside the Sith Base?"
"You're not seriously considering this, are you? It's too dangerous!" Bastila persisted.
"I don't see another way." Ariv responded, "Carth and I have been here for weeks now, and finally here's our chance to get away from this place."
Bastila sighed, "I suppose, but how are we supposed to even get in?"
"Well, it won't be easy: the base is protected by an encrypted security system. It would take a top-of-the-line astromech droid to slice through it. Lucky for you I know just the place to get a droid like that. Davik was having one custom–built by Janice Nall. Just tell her Canderous sent you and she'll sell you the droid. Then you can use it to get the launch codes." Ordo explained.
Ariv eyed him warily and asked, "Why don't you do this yourself?"
"Normally I would, but everyone knows who I work for. If I broke into the Sith base, they'd send an army down on Davik's estate to get those codes back. That's why I need your help. So, do we have a deal?" The Mandalorian asked and stared at him expectantly.
Ariv looked at Bastila, remembering what she'd said, "I don't sense any deception from him," she admitted, "which I find surprising. This very well may be exactly what we need."
Ariv faced the Mandalorian again, "Alright, we have a deal."
Canderous smiled, "Glad to hear it. I'll be waiting right here."
?￢ﾟﾡ? ?￢ﾟﾡ? ?￢ﾟﾡ?
"2000 credits?!" Ariv asked the Twi'lek in front of him incredulously, a droid with loose wiring sparked before he said, "I thought Davik already paid for it?"
"He gave me a down payment," she explained, "But the rest is due on delivery. If he sent you here to get the droid without giving you the final payment, that's between you and him. But I still need my 2000 credits."
Ariv sighed, "I can't afford that."
"You're joking, right? You mean to tell me Canderous sent you to collect this droid for Davik and you can't pay? I find that hard to believe. But it's not my problem, is it? So... are you going to pay?"
There was no harm in trying to lower the price for a droid that would likely end up as scrap metal on the Sith Base, "That price is outrageous! I'll give you half," he offered, hoping to sound as persuasive as possible.
Bastila glared at and he shrugged, and Nall said, "Half? If you're trying to rob me, why not just stick a blaster in my face? On the other hand, I do want to stay on Davik's good side. Tell you what, he's yours for 1500."
"We accept," Bastila said with finality, and murmured to him, "I'll pay half."
A smile broke across the viridescent Twi'lek's face as she exclaimed, "Wow... look at you, big spender! Okay, the unit is yours. Pleasure doing business with you. A real pleasure."
With that, they left the shop with a new T3-series utility droid called T3-M4, which apparently, Ariv and Bastila now had joint ownership of. The little astromech beeped merrily and rolled between them.
Ariv bent and absent-mindedly patted the droid on its flat white head and began, "I suppose we ought to head back to the apartment and speak to the others about how we're going to break into the Sith Base."
Bastila simply nodded in agreement and then they made their way to the Upper City again, slightly afraid but knowing that they had no choice but to partake in the near suicidal mission.
?￢ﾟﾡ? ?￢ﾟﾡ? ?￢ﾟﾡ?
It was during the early morning hours that Bastila and Ariv returned to the apartment. All of the others were still out, hunting for alternate ways off-world, preparing in case Ordo failed to come through with his promise. Ariv should have been resting, but sleep eluded him.
Instead, he sat near the window's edge, gazing out into the city. The activity in the cantinas lower in the city had died down a little, and this part of the planet was waking up, preparing to leave for their work and daily chores.
Ariv sighed as he saw Bastila sit beside him. "Couldn't sleep?" He turned to face her and asked after a few minutes of awkward silence interrupted by a passing speeder.
Bastila nodded in response, her face scrunched up in indecision and eyes still focused on the cityscape outside.
Ariv took a chance and asked, "You wanted to talk to me about something?"
The Jedi startled and finally turned to face him as well, and answered "I would like to know what happened after you crashed on Taris, Carth was unable to tell me everything, I'd like to…talk about what you did before we joined forces."
Ariv blinked at her question but smiled and said, "Before we rescued you, you mean?"
She rolled her eyes and said, "I managed to free myself, as I recall. In fact, if I hadn't been there Brejik and his thugs might have killed you in that fight. It's probably more accurate to say that I rescued you."
She wasn't entirely wrong, but there was no way in hell he was going to admit that to her, so instead he said, "Hmmm, as far as I remember, you didn't escape the Black Vulkars until after I finished the swoop race."
Bastila huffed in annoyance but admitted, "I probably wouldn't have been able to free myself if not for the brawl after the swoop race. I guess I should thank you for that, at least." She sounded pained while saying it, and Ariv stifled a laugh.
Ignoring his antics she continued, "You also avoided detection by the Sith, discovered I was a Vulkar prisoner, gained sponsorship for the race, and became the Taris swoop champion. That's quite a resume."
"What can I say? I'm a talented individual." He added, grinning,
"Yes, I can see you do not lack in ability; although modesty is another matter." She huffed.
"I want to ask you something," Ariv began and Bastila tensed.
"Yes," she answered tentatively.
"What is with you and Carth? I get the feeling that you know each other….," he asked, trailing off. Ariv knew it wasn't his business to pry, especially since Carth seemed so…secretive about his past. But they all needed to work with each other to get off Taris and back to the Republic fleet and, well, he was curious too. It was clear despite the Captain's argument with Bastila the former cared about the Jedi, after all, he had been desperate to find her and Ariv had sensed that there was more to it than merely Carth's duty to the Republic.
Bastila sighed, "We know each other from the days towards the end of the Mandalorian Wars. I was taken to Telos IV by my old Master to aid in a small skirmish. I met him there, and at that time he – or anyone from the Republic Navy did not know of my powers. The Jedi believed it was wise to keep something like this a secret, especially since I was barely able to control it and was still learning."
And they probably wished to hide you from the Revanchists as well, Ariv thought, so that the Jedi may not lose another prize pupil.
From the Jedi's perspective, it made sense, Bastila must've been far too inexperienced to wage war and well, he knew of the Revanchist's reputation — he had been a cold and strategic leader, who didn't stop at anything to win, even sacrificing his own troops. Recruiting a powerful Jedi like Bastila would have been a no-brainer for the then Supreme Commander. Reports from a decade ago had suggested that it had been a long drawn–out battle for Revan to gain the Council's approval to actually join the fight against the Mandalorians.
Despite the Council finally supporting the Revanchist, it had been obvious that there was no love lost between him and the Jedi. Ariv did not know the Council well – or at all, but he was certain that they would rather not have another student be led astray.
"Anyway," Bastila continued and Ariv focused on her instead of his wayward thoughts, "We have come across one another through the course of this war. He is an incredible leader and a most loyal soldier. I trust him immensely," she added, a small smile appearing on her face.
"Oh," Ariv said, shifting, an uncomfortable prospect taking shape in his mind, "...Are you and he…?"
The Jedi's eyes widened and she shook her head, "Stars no!" she said vehemently, "He is only a friend – more like an older brother really, and I am a Jedi. Any form of attachment is forbidden!"
"I see," was all Ariv said, feeling embarrassed.
"Enough about me," she said, "I…I wish to know about you as well." Ariv raised his brow, questioning.
Bastila bit her lip then, nervous, "When you were chosen to join this mission," she began, "I doubt any of us expected this much from you. A Jedi could have done such things, of course. But only by drawing heavily upon the Force."
Her words made him pause and a thought crossed his mind that was so odd that he guffawed out loud and said, "Are you trying to say I can control the Force?"
Bastila frowned at him and admonished, "This is not a laughing matter! The Force is in all of us, though for most people it is a barely measurable whisper. But there are some individuals outside the Jedi Order that we considered 'Force Sensitive'."
Ariv furrowed his brows, confused, and she elaborated further, "It is obvious to me that the Force has been working through you. There is no other explanation for your great success, though I am not certain what to make of this discovery. Perhaps if you weren't –well, if you were younger the Jedi might take you for training. But as it is…" she trailed off and Ariv stared at her, looking in her silver eyes that almost glowed in the low light.
"What are you trying to say?" He asked, finally, a little anxious.
"For now let's just accept the fact that you are…gifted," Bastila responded.
"I– I don't understand, I mean, I'm just a soldier, I don't have these magical powers. Honestly, I think you just underestimate us non-Jedi." He stammered.
Bastila sighed, "Think about it, has anything odd happened lately? Anything you can't explain."
He opened his mouth to deny it but he remembered the weird occurrences: how he had managed to free himself from the Dark Jedi's force choke on the Endar Spire, the rakghouls being pushed away from him, freezing the rancor in place – even if it was for a split second. The swoop race, his bike managing to go faster without blowing up while he rode it. Not to mention the visions he'd seen: Bastila and the Dark Lord.
"It's just sheer dumb luck," Ariv protested, but the excuse sounded flimsy to his own ears as well.
Bastila saw the expression on his face and smiled sadly, "You may think that these are mere accidents, but they are not."
Ariv sighed, his thoughts clouded by what Bastila had told him, he couldn't believe that he possessed the force, he tried to reason with himself, saying that she could be wrong – but she was powerful wasn't she? Ariv hardly thought that she would be wrong about something like this. He remembered the second vision he'd had and realised that he should probably ask her about it but Bastila interrupted his thoughts and said, "I sense that this disturbs you greatly. I'm sorry: I've overstepped my authority. I'm speaking of things that are best left to the Jedi Council."
Before he could get another word out, the Jedi Princess got up, wished him a quiet goodnight, and left him to think in silence.