She'd agreed to go with him.
She was still mad. She made a point of him knowing. But she went with him. She couldn't stay away even if she wanted to. Not for long, anyways.
And besides, Zalbaar had prodded her one too many times to go with him when she had the chance.
Drea was there, waiting next to the parked submarine bobbing up and down gently on the clear blue water. Mission allowed herself an exaggerated eye roll. How they were going to fit herself, Bastila, Canderous, Seth, and his perfect little ex into that cramped submarine was beyond her.
Her arms were around his waist, and his around hers, and Mission forced herself to turn away and channel all her emotion into curling her fingers into the soft flesh of her palms as tightly as she could. She tried to block out that voice, as smooth and sweet as Tarisian honey, but the words slipped past her defenseless ears and seeped into her conscious train of thought.
"Be careful down there, okay?"
That... that sounded final. Like she wasn't going to cram herself into the submarine.
"I'm always careful," Seth said warmly, as fearless as ever. Only Mission could read into his tone and hear the cockiness that belied his confidence.
He most certainly was not always careful. But for some absurd reason, Drea agreed with him. There was a sigh, a little exasperated one of resignation, and she spoke quietly, "I know, I know."
No, she really didn't know. Mission shook her head. Was Drea confusing Seth for someone else? He was one of the most reckless people she knew, aside from herself.
"You just... can't die down there. Not again. Promise me you'll come back."
"I promise. I'll be fine down there. We'll get what we need and get out. It's what we do."
Mission decided that it was time for this little party between the two to end, before she got sick. "Hey Seth!" Her voice was a bit overenthusiastic, but it did catch his attention, as well as turn his attention completely away from Drea. In fact, she thought she saw his eyes light up a bit in this recent bit of attention he was receiving from the Twi'lek, but decided to ignore it in case she was flattering herself. "I thought I heard Canderous say he wanted to get going, so we should probably hop in." She jerked a thumb in the general direction of the submarine.
Canderous cocked his head confusedly. "I didn't say..." He trailed off as the girl turned a withering glare toward him, took a hint, and shut up. The exchange between the two human teens was starting to give him a nauseous feeling in his stomach as well.
Seth merely nodded, oblivious to the silent conversation between Twi'lek and Mandalorian, eager to do as Mission pleased and for once be on her good side. He fell into step next to her and plopped down into the backseat with her as Bastila took the controls and Canderous slid in next to the lady Jedi.
"So she's not coming?" Mission asked. She cursed herself for not controlling the hope and relief that dripped into her tone of voice.
Seth allowed a small, pitiful laugh. "You kidding me? She can't even shoot a gun."
That ended any bit of hostility Mission had planned on having. The laugh came from deep within and exploded forth as a throaty chuckle and had her slapping her thigh, unable to breathe.
"You..." she took a deep breath, giggling. "You can't be serious!"
Bastila smiled, something completely foreign to Mission. "Almost got Seth killed, if he hadn't been so handy with the Force." She made eye contact with the boy using a rear view mirror. "Told you all that training would pay off."
Misson continued to giggle to herself. "Wow. Last time you ever take her to watch your six, huh?"
He gave her a halfhearted smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Last time I take her anywhere."
And for some reason, that statement made Mission incomprehensibly happy.
The Hrakrt Rift station was dark and quiet and had an overall eerie feeling to it that Seth immediately felt uneasy about. The air was thick and humid, smelling of mold and salt. Hot, sticky sweat was already beginning to bead on his forehead, and he wiped it off easily with the back of his sleeve. For a long while the quartet just stood there, analyzing their situation.
"Seems empty." Canderous' voice cut through the silence like a knife, or, better put, a very loud, unannounced knife that caused Seth to jump. The boy hung his head in embarrassment as the Mandalorian smirked at the action.
"Something stopped those mercenaries from coming back," Bastila reminded him. "We're not alone down here."
As if on cue, there was a loud bang against the doors on the far side of the room. Mission and Seth reacted immediately, turning to the source of the noise and brandishing their respective weapons. For a moment, the only sound to be heard was the hum of Seth's lightsaber.
Bastila gently guided his hand downward with the Force into a relaxed position, and he switched the blade off, looking at her curiously for a moment before snapping his attention back to the door. "Shh..." Bastila ordered. "Listen."
She cautiously made her way closer to the door, beckoning the others to follow. Seth was at first adamant in making the statement that he would not move, but when Canderous and Mission moved ahead without hesitation, he reluctantly took up the flank of the party.
And as he neared the door, Seth noticed what Bastila had been talking about. From the other side was coming quite a bit of whimpering and crying and mumbling. Seth craned his neck and turned his ear as close to the door as possible to make out bits of what was being said.
"Gone... all... gone..." Whimper. "Been weeks... Nobody new... Republic must have given up..." Loud sob. "I'm trapped here! Alone! With those... things!"
Canderous snorted and folded his arms. "This guy makes me embarrassed that I ever was a merc."
"What? Who's there? Are you real? Are you human?"
"Well, I'm not," Mission said smartly.
"We were sent by the Republic to investigate, could you open the door?" Bastila's voice was gentle, and Seth noted the faint pressure of the Force being applied to the man's mind, calming him. Sure enough, the door slid open with a creaking hiss.
A tall, evenly built green Twi'lek, about double Seth's age, stood there, wide eyed and taking in the first four people he'd seen in weeks. He inspected Seth and Mission quite closely, cocking his head to one side. "Oh Force... They're sending kids down here now, too? This... This isn't a place for..." He fell into another set of whimpers, dropping a pack he'd been holding to the ground to cover his face.
Misson's hand was already at her hip. "I ain't-" She spoke the rest of the statement into Seth's cupped hand clamped firmly over her mouth.
"We're Jedi," Seth told him, smiling.
"You are?" his eyes lit up hopefully.
He shrugged. "Yeah." He extended his reach through the force to pick up the pack the Twi'lek had dropped earlier, and lifted it telekinetically back into the mercenary's arms.
"So... you're here to kill the Selkath?"
Bastila was taken aback. "The Selkath? We're not here to kill anybody, least of all the Selkath!"
The Twi'lek dropped the pack yet again, and Seth rolled his eyes at the waste of his effort. "No! You kill them, or they kill you!" He dropped to his knees with a weak sob. "Damn fishies..."
"We're going in there," Canderous said matter-of-factly.
"Don't let me stop you. I'll take the sub back myself!" He stood up and dashed purposefully toward the sub. The door closed behind him just as Seth caught a glimpse of him climbing into the cockpit.
"We just gonna let him take the sub?" he asked.
Canderous merely gave a thundering laugh. "We're gonna let him think so." He held up a small silver item for a moment before shoving it into his jacket pocket. "I took the key."
Feemas held his blaster pistol up in a ready position, large, bug-like eyes darting around the room. The screeching noise was getting louder and beginning to unnerve the Rodian mercenary. "Boss..." he started shakily.
"I swear, Feemas, if I have to listen to another of your pathetic complaints, I'll find whatever is making that sound and feed you to it myself." The human fixed his blue trenchcoat, hoisting it up over his shoulders to give him a slightly taller appearance. Feemas was almost sure that the man's aggressive attitude came completely from the so called human Napoleon Complex.
"I'll assume your silence means that you'll be quiet from now on," the boss continued. "Now stay sharp." He was now addressing the entire squad of mercenaries he'd hired. "We've got two Jedi and a war hero, along with who knows what else, coming straight for us. Kill them all, or I'll kill you myself."
Feemas took one last glance down the corridor where the shrieks had come from. "Yes, sir, Mr. Nord."
Force, he was a terrifying fellow.
The sight of movement caught Seth's attention, and his head snapped to the left to peer into the open doorway. "Bastila!" he said quietly, waving her over. Green scaly skin, hunched walk, wide, flat head- there was no doubt that he was looking at the back of one of the Selkath scientists. "Should we go ask him what's going on?"
She tapped her chin with one finger thoughtfully. "I don't think so. That mercenary may have been traumatized, but he obviously had a reason to fear the Selkath here."
Canderous harrumphed behind them, crossing his massive arms. "What is it gonna do to us? It's a fish."
"The Selkath are an advanced, sentient species, they aren't simply fish, Canderous," Bastila told him, scrunching her face in her signature kinrath pup-like way.
Beyond them, the Selkath scientist bristled, cocking his head in the air as if straining to hear something. "Um... guys?" Seth whispered, his hand slowly making its way to the lightsaber hilt clipped to his belt.
"When was the last time you saw a Selkath best someone in combat?" Canderous shot back.
"There are Selkath in the Jedi Order that could fight circles around- oh, what is it, Seth?!"
He stopped tapping her shoulder furiously as the scientist's head swiveled to face the sound of Bastila's voice. The Selkath's large, pupil-less eyes were wide and bloodshot, and he opened his mouth and screeched into the air. Seth moved to clap his hands over his ears to block out the piercing noise.
The Selkath shook his head dementedly, curling its fingers and clawing in the general direction of the four strangers.
And it charged.
There was a flash of yellow as Bastila rushed forward to meet the fishlike being, and it slid to the floor nearly seconds after with a gaping hole burning in its chest.
"What happened to that whole unarmed opponent rule?" Canderous asked, unimpressed.
Her lightsaber deactivated with a hiss and she knelt next to the corpse. "That... thing was beyond sanity. I may as well have been dealing with an animal."
Mission visibly shuddered next to Seth. "Did every Selkath on the station go crazy like that? Is that what happened to the Republic soldiers and the mercs down here?"
Bastila looked up at the girl as sincerely as anyone had ever seen, a glance that didn't hint at their rocky relationship. "I can't say, Mission. I think there's a lot more behind this, though."
"So we should be on our guard," Seth said quietly. "Assume hostility?"
The older Jedi shook her head adamantly. "No, there could be sane Selkath left as well, we can't know for sure. Don't assume hostility..." She paused, making direct eye contact with Seth. "Expect it."
Seth shuddered as they began to move forward again. "We can't get arrested for shooting people down here, can we?"
"This place isn't supposed to exist in the first place," Bastila reassured him, stepping over the Selkath's corpse. "I doubt the Ahto City rules apply in a place that, according to their government, doesn't exist."
"Unless they find out the Hrakrt Rift Station exists," Canderous laughed. "Then we could get in any manner of trouble for being mixed up in this."
"Well, they can't get too upset with us," Mission pointed out, veering hard to the left to avoid stepping on a sonic mine. "I mean, their own scientists are helping out down here too."
"And those scientists are trying to kill us now," the Mandalorian said bluntly.
Their footfalls echoed quietly as their boots struck the durasteel flooring, and for a while, that was the only thing to be heard. Seth glanced back at Mission for a moment, watching her click and unclick the safety on her blaster pistol, an absentminded habit of hers he'd noticed back on Taris. Taris, where things were, despite the situations they'd found themselves in, much easier. When he didn't have to worry about saving the galaxy or becoming a Jedi or complicating his relationship with his best friend with romance.
And before he knew that Malak was responsible for the death of his parents. He let his fists clench as he walked, the leather of his gloves squeaking a bit as it came into contact with itself. It was a crazy thought, thinking that he, an inexperienced, naïve, teenaged padawan would last even five minutes of combat with the dark lord. But he hoped that he'd be thrust into the situation nonetheless. The idea of his father's sword through Malak's gut was one that fueled his fire in this quest to save the galaxy, and for all he knew, a final confrontation with the lord of the Sith was a very real possibility.
Mission touched his wrist gently and Seth allowed his focus to return to the present. He glanced at her, a questioning look in his eye.
"You alright?" she asked. "You kinda zoned out there."
Seth shrugged. "Yeah. Just thinking."
She quickened her pace to keep up with his long strides and let a playful look come across her features. "You? Thinking? That's a first."
"I think," he defended, "just not before I speak."
"Oh, trust me, I know."
He smiled. Genuinely smiled and for a moment he felt like a normal teenager smiling at a normal joke.
But he wasn't a normal teenager, and Mission's persistent stare reminded him of his thoughts previous. He sighed and slid calloused fingers through soft brown hair and shrugged, shaking his head. "I don't even know where to start," he said honestly.
Gentle brown eyes showed understanding and she placed a hand on his shoulder. "Well, hey, right here, right now, is not really the best time or place, but when we get some down time at the Hawk and you feel like talking, I'm here to listen."
"As am I," Bastila said. "Considering the bond we have, I think it's best that we are there for each other when we need it." She gave a little smile beyond the usual firm line that her lips formed and Seth smiled back because he knew that it was probably the most she had to offer.
"Count me out," Canderous added with a dry laugh. "If you want to blow something up, I'm your man. Talk to the girls or that weak Republic pilot if you need to get feelings out."
"Duly noted, Canderous," Seth replied, hiding a smirk.
On that note, the group rounded the corner and came face-to-face with another group of crazed Selkath. Mission grabbed Seth by the hand and pulled him behind cover as the Selkath fired opening shots. He gave her a grateful look before activating his lightsaber and launching himself into the fray.
Combat was a sort of meditation for him, and he felt his heart rate slow as he breathed in deeply, feeling the slight vibration of his humming lightsaber in his palm even as he turned with his body and using a small motion of his wrist, severing the a selkath's torso from the rest of its body. The Force rushed through him like a river, bursting forth from his slight frame in the form of a massive fist, knocking back his enemies to be helplessly diced by Bastila's twin blades, the rest only becoming targets of Canderous and Mission's crosshairs.
For a moment there was silence, and the only thing Seth could hear were his own shallow breaths due to overexertion. He wiped sweat off his forehead with his sleeve, silently cursing the musty humidity of the underwater station. And then he became faintly aware of a steady clapping noise, the sounds of two gloved palms coming together in a rhythmic beat.
"Well done, what a display of teamwork!" The voice was nasally and unpleasantly familiar. "Too bad those were only a couple of fish acting on animal instinct. I'm in a whole 'nother league."
Seth had his suspicions just by seeing the seething look on Canderous's face, but turned to confirm them anyways.
He found himself staring into the soulless black of combat goggles.
Calo Nord.