STAR WARS: FUGITIVESLoosely based upon my "Vremya" fanfiction series
A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...
Two years after Tysyacha Dvyx, the JEDI EXILE, defeated DARTH TRAYA at Malachor V, she has found that acting upon the most logical of assumptions can lead to the worst of mistakes. While searching for REVAN, formerly Dark Lord of the Sith, she encountered two mysterious figures whom she took to be armed and dangerous members of the Exchange crime syndicate. Unfortunately, they were actually Jedi spies trying to infiltrate the group once and for all. Once again, Tysyacha is on the run. Harboring only her loyal utility droid, T3-M4, on board the Ebon Hawk at present, she knows that either she succeeds in fleeing or succeeds in getting herself exiled to a minimum sentence of eight years' hard labor!
Not only that, but she is also being blackmailed. BASTILA SHAN, Revan's former lover and former apprentice of DARTH MALAK, has proclaimed herself the de facto leader of the Jedi, the Enclave on Dantooine notwithstanding. Through official channels and reports, BASTILA has concluded that the Exile is the one who slew her two most experienced and most-feared spies. Thus, as long as Tysyacha can keep the Jedi's palm greased, she can continue to run. If not...Who will save her this time--the Force, or something darker...?
Part One: Opening Moves
"Two skulls, two stones. The rest is just icing..." --The 7th Guest
It was dark out in space. Darker than even Tysyacha Dvyx, the Jedi Exile, imagined in the quietness of the starboard dormitory of the Ebon Hawk as she lay down on her bunk. Of course, there was no darkness that could compare to the kind that lay within. Was it evil, some hidden poison seeping out inside her soul, that had compelled her to do what she had done? Or was it simply a fool's mistake, made by jumping to the wrong conclusions at the wrong time with the wrong people? She simply did not know. Of course, the Exile had a personal body count that would rival that of any Sith Lord, but still...There was war, yes, but then there was murder--another animal.
Two skulls, two stones. The rest is just icing...
She had killed two Jedi spies. Garrun Thax and Yorran Thul, a human male and a Rodian of the same gender. Granted, she had thought them to be members of the Exchange crime syndicate, and that was why she had cut them both down with her dvyxplanochniy--her double-bladed silver saberstaff. Tysyacha had thought the Exchange to be operating out of the salvage yard where she had worked briefly as a "slagbreaker". They were, as a matter of fact, but she had eliminated the wrong two thugs. They weren't thugs at all--she was, and now she would pay.
Either she would surrender to the Jedi and the Coruscanti authorities, paying for her crime via eight years' hard labor at minimum, or she would pay Bastila Shan, Grandmaster of the Jedi and former colleague of the former Darth Revan, for the privilege of remaining a fugitive. Tysyacha had decided upon the latter, having recently been questioned by the former. The Exile knew that Bastila had no compelling proof of her deed yet, but she soon would.
It was why she'd taken the coward's way out--either that, or the smart man's way. Who wouldn't run after making such a life-ending error?
Yet, there was doubt in Tysyacha's mind and guilt in her heart. If she could run and hide, remain concealed on some planet until the end of her days, then she would not be mated--as in her favorite game to play with T3-M4, her loyal utility droid, or anyone. As it was, this was her opening move--paying Bastila Shan one hundred credits as a start and then fleeing.
Where was she going? Where would she end up? She still did not know...
T3-M4 tweedled and beeped hopefully, knowing his Master was not asleep.
"Shakhmaty?" asked the Exile groggily, referring to the game. "Not now. Perhaps in the morning--or what I know as 'morning' out in space." She laughed softly to herself. "My mind's not functioning at one hundred percent capacity." T3 chirped in return and went back to pacing and fixing the ship.
She was an old girl, the Ebon Hawk, but she'd carry the Exile to safety.
*****************************
"I am the law, and the law is not mocked..." Les Miserables
"Psycho." Jedi Master Bastila Shan, leader of the Sentinels and de facto head of the Jedi Order on Coruscant, gave a derisive snort. "Such a crude term. Of course it fits you, monster, but that is not the role I'll have you play for me. As of now, you'll be known as Agent One on my payroll," she announced.
"I do not trust you," she continued. "Who would, after all that you have done? Nevertheless, you will be quite useful to me in this endeavor. I want you to bring me back one Tysyacha Dvyx, a human female, 35, brown hair, blue eyes, and a rather voluptuous build. She never did keep up on her calisthenics..." Bastila sighed. "Nevertheless, she is known as the Jedi Exile. I have it on good authority that she killed two of my best spies, Garrun Thax and Yorran Thul. They were trying to infiltrate Exchange operations on Coruscant permanently, and now they're dead. I'll have her pay for this..."
Bastila folded her hands in front of her, as prim as she had been as a Knight.
"However, I want you to keep track of her whereabouts and movements for now. Only when she cannot pay me, or stops paying me, do I want you to strike. Do you--under--stand?" The creature sat still, and Bastila wanted to bludgeon it across the face. However, she had to mention the payment therein, which Psycho would receive if he succeeded in capturing the Exile.
"Your freedom. Your execution is scheduled thirty days from now, and if you bring me Dvyx alive and unharmed, you'll go free. Don't worry. She won't be able to pay me for long, even if she earns thousands of credits on the planets she visits. The Exile does not yet know that I'm trying to teach her a lesson: you cannot outrun justice, no matter how wealthy or how poor you are. I have secured an unnamed, nondescript vessel for your travels. Guards! Escort this creature, Agent One, to his ship." Two Jedi came who served Bastila personally. They were her bodyguards, chefs, companions and valets: they did everything from launder her clothes to spar with her in combat.
They took "the creature", Psycho by name, and led him to his new vessel.
"This heap is yours," the Jedi announced. "Bring her to justice, 'Agent One'."
Did the creature notice the disdain dripping in their voices? No one could tell.
As for Tysyacha...did she know that Bastila's first pawn was out to get her?
Hiding in the lower levels of Nar Shaddaa from Vogga's agents, Niera pondered what fate would be worse: death, or being reduced to one of his many slave girls. Drunkenly grope a few dancers at one of the cantinas he owned, and lose some cargo and suddenly, he wanted her head, or worse. The sooner she a charter passage off this bloody moon, the better. It didn't even matter where, as long as it was beyond the reach of the Hutts.
Telos, Citadel Station
Gelvik Verokin sat on a stool in one of Citadel Station's many Cantina's.
He held in his hand a shot of Juma, the drink he had wasted the last bit of money of his on. He probably wasn't even going to drink it, he'd had enough. That was the problem when you help the Jedi fight their enemies, they leave the mercs with hardly any jobs left, at least here on the Citadel, where he was now stranded.
"Barkeep...I think I'll..." He suddenly slipped off his stool and hit the ground hard, the glass of Juma crashing with him. This was rather humiliating for the sole survivor of Mand'alor's Elite Verokin Clan.
The Barkeep looked down at Gelvik.
"You'll be payin' for that."
Gelvik bonked his helmeted head on the cool durasteel, he felt absolutley miserable. He was getting an early headache from the alcohol, he had no means of transportation, or money to help, he didn't even have a place to bunk down for the night. And no money to pay for the glass.
He missed the days of action back in the Mandalorian War, conquering worlds in the name of Mand'alor the Ultimate. Well, that ended due to the Jedi Revan, and his friend, the Exile. The last of Gelvik's brothers had been slaughtered at Malachor, also due to The Exile. He ended up fighting alongside her, but of course, she didn't notice, so there was no pay or recommendation, and he was fine with that. At least he was able to help the galaxy, a little redemption after he and many others had tried to conquer it.
Gelvik stumbled back up, and ignoring the jeers of the Barkeep and the other patrons, he wobbled outside of the Cantina.
He needed to find some money.
"It's where you go to get lost in the crowd." --Atton, re: Nar Shaddaa
The Exile did not much like the Smuggler's Moon. It was where she had been chased by numerous rabid bounty hunters (one of whom was back at the Jedi Enclave on Dantooine), cured someone of the plague that didn't really have it, almost got gassed to death in a bar she had no business entering, and had to wash the stink out of her clothes for fourteen solid days with the help of T3! Nevertheless, she had been told by her former colleague, Atton Rand--who had boldly sacrificed himself to Darth Sion in the penultimate battle with the Sith Triumvirate--that Nar Shaddaa was where people and aliens went to hide out. Funny. If he would have just stayed there, then...
The first task to complete was to land the Hawk, on a landing pad, no doubt, but which one? Whose? In the Refugee Sector, or at least at the docks leading up to them, there was no telling a good landing pad from a bad one. Of course, the ones that were owned were usually a safe bet, but did Tysyacha have enough credits to pay (or bribe) the owner? There was only one way to find out...T3 maneuvered the freighter onto a sturdy platform.
"Great landing!" Tysyacha laughed. "I didn't even get whiplash once!"
The utility droid made some playfully-angry wham-wham-wham sounds and put himself into guard mode aboard the Ebon Hawk while his owner ventured out. The landing pad, and the surrounding area, seemed deserted. Nevertheless, the Exile was sure the platform would not crumble under the weight of the ship. T3 was a good judge of all things structural and mechanical, with landing pads being no exception. It was still a good idea to leave the safety mechanisms on, though. If the landing pad suddenly collapsed, the Hawk would hover.
"All right," said the Exile, stretching. "First order of business...food and fuel."
She went towards the nearest cantina that looked like it catered to humans and their ilk, seeing if there were any recharging stations for T3-M4 nearby.
((Switched Jolee to Telos. I thought it would be too...simple to have both Jolee and Juhani on the same planet.))
Jolee Bindo was bored. Bored out of his mind in fact and he didn't mind telling anyone who asked him what his problem was. Hell, he didn't mind telling people that didn't ask him.
"Young people these days...don't even have time to listen to an old man's stories about the days gone by." Jolee grumbled as he watched the Human woman move as quickly as she could away from him.
Well...what have we here?
A man...well, a mandalorian by the looks of his armor was walking...well, staggering was a better choice of words out of the cantina with a volly of jeers and shouts aimed at him.
Hmph. Looks like he had a bit too much to drink.
Nar Shaddaa
Juhani watched through slitted eyes as the beat up old freighter landed on one of the landing platforms. The Ebon Hawk...I never dreamed that I would see the Hawk again.
She put her hand down next to her lightsaber as the first figure exited the ship. She felt a sharp pang of sadness. It wasn't revan...it was a stranger...followed by an...Astro droid?
Come to think of it...how did she gain possesion of the Ebon Hawk?
Juhani wrapped herself in the force...making herself all but invisible as she began to follow the movements of the two.
Gelvik suddenly ran into a wall, clanking hard against it. He readjusted, but kept staggering around, his HUD was no help when you were drunk.
He suddenly noticed an older man watching him from one of the hall corners.
In his inebriated state, he stumbled over.
"Bo'doyak Uitilik, Babuir?" Gelvik said.
A typical drunken question.
Gorrak Veel, new underboss of the Exchange's Compeer was a very happy Chiss. Business was good today. 130 slaves sold to a mysterious buyer. He earned a lot since the stranger paid double for the slaves. After giving due tribute to the Hutts, (about 60% of his profits) he pondered on what he will spend his money on. New thugs might help. A new slave girl, perhaps? Gorrak relished that thought.
He walked out of his grandiose office. Outside was one of his lieutenants.
"What is it, Larox?", questioned Gorrak.
"There was a killing of two of our thugs, sir."
Has this fool gone mad? Why does he tell me this? This news is beyond me.
"Larox, I do not like to know unnecessary details. Tell it to your captain. He'll handle it."
"But sir-"
"ARE YOU QUESTIONING MY AUTHORITY?", exclaimed Gorrak. Larox was shocked.
"No, sir."
"Then tell it to your captain. I do not want my day to be ruined.", said Gorrak, pointing a finger at the lieutenant.
"Yes, sir."
The lieutenant ran away. Gorrak went to the Jekk Jekk Tar accompanied by two bodyguards.
Niera pondered her situation as she saw a woman step out of the Dynamic-class light freighter that had just landed. There didn't seem to be much security around that landing pad, so she could probably sneak on pretty easily, and if she was lucky and there was noone else on board, she could hotwire the controls and make a clean getaway. If not, she could try to hide in one of the cargo holds and wait for the ship to take off. Either way, it beat waiting around to get caught by some bounty hunter.
Spotting an opportune moment, Niera jumped off the ledge she was sitting on and landed on the walkway. Checking again to make sure noone was looking, she made her way to the ship's loading ramp, which was predictably locked. However, she spotted a few loose wires, touched them together, and the loading ramp lowered, allowing her to quietly sneak aboard.
Once on board, Niera looked around at the ship she had just broken into. Old, but a still a nice ship. In a tolerable state of repair, but enough to get her out of Hutt space. She would have gotten right to slicing the controls, if not for a stern looking utility droid looking her dead in the face. "Um, hello?" She said to it, slightly embarrassed at how quickly she was caught.
(FYI: The Ebon Hawk is a the Dynamic-class freighter, in case you don't know, which means Niera is trying to steal it)
Gorrak was told that Quello the Toydarian wasn't paying the "taxes" for the landing pad he manages. Since his landing pad is pretty near, Gorrak decides to collect himself. He walked to the landing pad and saw a freighter. He felt a sense of familiarity with it.
"What is that ship?", asked Gorrak to one of his bodyguards.
"Sir, I believe that's the Ebon Hawk."
"The Ebon Hawk. The harbinger of my doom and my salvation. That Toydarian has a lot to answer for. Get me the nearest thugs. I want that ship searched."
"I believe in you, even though I be outnumbered..." Sinead O'Connor
T3 tweedled uncertainly at the strange blue Twi'lek female, sized her up with his glowing mechanical eye, and then began broadcasting a piercingly loud signal: Brank! Brank! Brank! It was his customary anti-theft alarm, a feature expertly added by one Iridonian mechanic, Bao-Dur, who had served in the Mandalorian Wars along with Revan and the Exile. He was dead now.
It seemed as if a lot of people died once they crossed Tysyacha, and this thief would be no different if he turned violent aboard the ship he was trying to steal. Imagine her surprise when, responding to the matching alarm in her comlink, the Exile found not a burly thug, but a lithe and lovely Twi'lek!
Tysyacha ignited her dvyxplanochniy. "Identify yourself and surrender," she ordered, "or identify yourself and fight! This is my ship, the Ebon Hawk, entrusted to me by one of my former--superiors. I won't have you take her, or have you scrap her for spare parts." She fell into a stance only the most skilled of Jedi Masters knew: a Force stance, meant to protect her through the fabric of the universe instead of through her two blades alone.
T3-M4 abruptly sounded the alarm again, alert to even more new presences aboard the freighter. Shadows suddenly surrounded the Exile and the droid. The shadows either appeared not to notice the Twi'lek, or they were biding their time in regards to her. In an instant, a split second, the Exile knew what she had to request:
"If you help me fight these other thugs, I'll consider you an ally. A desperate one, perhaps, but an ally nonetheless. I can't tell how many there are. Deal?" A pause.
Juhani watched as a large group of thugs attempted to board the Hawk through sheer numbers...While four of them waited outside in the shadows, possibly hoping to capture the people who had run back on board at the sight of the thugs if they came out again.
The Ebon Hawk...belongs to Revan. I won't allow it to be captured by a group of mere thugs.
Juhani quietly snuck behind the first thug and clamped her hand over his mouth before dragging him back into the shadows and then sneaking up on the other three and doing the same.
She looked up at the ship and then cloaked herself in the force yet again and snuck aboard...hoping to find...something. Anything that would tell her that the war was over.
Telos.
"What do you want, Old man?"
"Don't talk to your elders like that damnit." Jolee snapped at the Mandalorian. "I just want to see how this turns out."
"Don't talk to your elders like that damnit. I just want to see how this turns out."
Gelvik ran into another wall.
"How what turns out?"
He suddenly trip and fell head first on the ground. There was also something creeping up his throat, he took off his helmet and vomited. Being drunk wasn't fun.
He put the helmet back on.
"Was that it? I wouldn't have waited for that...."
He tried his best to get back up.
CORUSCANT
"When we're hungry, love will keep us alive..." --The Eagles
Bastila Shan was not one to wax nostalgic these days, except when she was in the darkest throes of a pain she dared not name, even to herself. She was a Jedi, the Grand Master of the Order! "A Jedi shall not know anger, nor hatred, nor love..." She softly repeated these words to herself, knowing that she no longer believed them. Once she had, but then she had met Revan, and then--!
Revan had been a mere pawn to her once. Or, rather, a subject of research and the object of redemption by the Order itself. Under the guidance of Masters Zhar, Vandar and Vrook, Bastila had been given command of him as he wore the guise of a Republic foot soldier and then a Jedi Padawan. Of course, he had not known of his true identity as the Dark Lord of the Sith when he first tried to rescue her aboard the Endar Spire and on Taris, but in a sudden revelation via his former apprentice, Darth Malak, he quickly came to realize who he was. He had been given a different name, but underneath, he would always remain Revan.
She remembered their first and last kiss: a threat, a dare, a challenge he'd accepted. It went against every tenet of the Jedi Code--and of her moral one--but at the moment, Bastila had not cared. She had only wanted to see if he would kiss her, if the passion he felt in his heart at the moment matched hers. Since it had, the rest was history, and she had eventually fallen to the Dark Side. Bastila no longer tried to fool herself that she had only done it to be released from Malak's torture. If she fell and gave in, she could have Revan by her side as he reclaimed his title of Dark Lord. As a Jedi, she could only have him as a colleague and apprentice. That would not do.
Bastila shut her eyes tightly. How could she have been so selfish, to almost sacrifice the entire galaxy for the love--or the brazen lust--of a single man?
Yet Revan was more than a foot soldier, more than a man, even more than a Sith. He was the most powerful Force user of his time. Gazing straight into his eyes and sensing his power was like staring straight into the heart of the Force. Who would not give that up, and risk anything, to love that kind of being?
It was why she wanted Tysyacha Dvyx alive. Bastila was hungry, and for more than credits. If the payments stopped coming in via holowire, the Exile would be captured. Before she was sentenced, however, Bastila would offer a deal:
You know where he is. Deliver him to me, and I'll deliver you from hard labor on some cold and remote planet. If not--may you get twenty years!
Vengeance was not the way of the Jedi. Yet this was not vengeance.
It was only love, and love would do anything to keep itself alive.
"How what turns out?"
Jolee chuckled and shook his head. "Is this what the Mandalorians have become? Light drinkers? Men who leave at the first sign of laughter?"
Jolee watched as the Mandalorian tore off his helmet and got sick on the floor.
"Was that it? I wouldn't have waited for that...."
If you really were a Mandalorain...you would go in there and demand another drink. Your a Mandalorian damnit! Act like one!"
If you really were a Mandalorain...you would go in there and demand another drink. Your a Mandalorian damnit! Act like one!"
Gelvik chuckled, "Heheh, I would've, but haven't really got anything to buy ammo..."
He lifted his rifle, "See, no ammo......heh, and no job....thanks to those di'kutla Jedi....you are lookin' at what Mandalorians become when peace time is here....that and TSF would get on my sheb if I started a riot...."
It was the literal truth. Mandalorians needed war to keep them busy, or at least something with bloodshed to keep them going. During peace time, most Mandalorians just...drifted from the more honorable path.
"Shh-shh-shh! Even walls have ears..." --Flora, Sleeping Beauty
The Jedi had spies everywhere. Even on Telos' Citadel Station, which was almost as far away from Coruscant as you could get on the Hydian Way without leaving known space, the Order kept watch over everything and everyone. It was its duty, for if it did not watch, how could the Jedi ever know what dire threats were being posed to innocent worlds and people?
Right now, duty was personified in the form of Grand Master Bastila Shan, and one of her loyal acolytes, one of the best repositories of her teaching, was listening nonchalantly yet intently to the conversation between the Mandalorian and the cantankerous, elderly man. Chandria Sakhar, a Jedi mole within the TSF, stepped forward. She knew all about the Mandalorians and the troubles they faced (and were now causing). If it was war they wanted, it was war they'd get, but a different kind than they had ever fought before. Good or evil, Mandalorians always fought. Sides didn't matter. This distressed and disappointed Chandria somewhat, but she had to at least pose the offer.
"Is there a problem here, gentlemen?" she asked of the old man and the helmeted drunk. She turned to the former. "Sir, if this man is bothering you, I'll have him sleep it off in a Force cage if you want." She smiled gently.
Gorrak watched as his thugs tried to board the Ebon Hawk. Four of them managed to get in, the rest dispatched by a mysterious Cathar outside the freighter. The Cathar went in, hiding herself from the people inside, but not the people outside.
"Post a bounty for that Cathar Jedi. I would not be humiliated."
"Is there a problem here, gentlemen?"
Jolee turned to her. "If by problem you mean that I'm trying to help him get back on his feet then yes, there is a problem."
"Sir, if this man is bothering you, I'll have him sleep it off in a Force cage if you want."
Jolee knew what she was. Bastila was power hungry and was bound to have spies everywhere. He could sense the force in her.
"Ma'm. I know what you are. I know who your spying for. So why don't you please leave us alone. We're trying to have a chat here damnit."
"Sir, if this man is bothering you, I'll have him sleep it off in a Force cage if you want."
Gelvik struggled to his feet.
"Yessss...officer, go ahead and remove him....though problem...I've had worse..."
He was drifting back and forth, and wobbled over to the wall, trying to get his balance. Then, he stood up straight.
For a moment.
He then crumpled back and hit his helmeted head hard against the transparisteel window.
"Juir...."
"Before you accuse me..." --Eric Clapton, from his cover of the song
"Spying?" This time Chandria wasn't putting on an act. She was genuinely offended. Yes, she was a spy, and yes, she was engaged in the act of espionage at the moment, but it was for the greater good! Did this wizened old wizard truly know the organization for whom she really worked, or was he just bluffing? She decided to assume the latter, and so she went on as before:
"Sir. I wasn't meaning to give you offense, only an opportunity..."
She trailed off slowly, not wanting to give away too much just yet. Chandria knew these weren't two riba fish on a hook, but they were men, and men in need of work and a little excitement. "If you really don't need my help--you or the Mandalorian--then I'll be going. Although, I think my offer might appeal to you both. It involves fighting, or I suspect it will once you catch her."
She suddenly glared at the armor-plated man in disgust, hoisting him to his feet.
"Job," she said loudly. "Work? Fight? War? Maybe war, with this one's track record."
"If you really don't need my help--you or the Mandalorian--then I'll be going. Although, I think my offer might appeal to you both. It involves fighting, or I suspect it will once you catch her."
Gelvik suddenly bounced back up.
"Va'Koya!Wait! Wait! Wait! You said fighting. Do you mean a job?"
This had perked up Gelvik's interest, and his senses were no longer blurry. It's amazing how word of war could spurr a Mandalorian out of a hangover.
While it hurts him to retreat, Gorrak had no more cards to play. He called his bodyguards back. Gorrak hoped that the bounty he posted on the Cathar will render another one of his opponents dead. Gorrak went back to his office, taking his personal shuttle.
"Deal." Niera replied, drawing two blaster pistols from her sides and moving to the corridor near the loading ramp. Careful to avoid being within the thugs' line of sight, she waited until two of them stepped into her line of sight, and fired two shots directly at their head, taking both down at once. Recognising that she gave herself away by taking those shots, she ran into the garage, and waited next to the threshold. As the remaining two entered, she grabbed the one nearest her and used him as a "human" shield, and caused the other thug to gun him down instead of her. Then, she threw the dead body at him, and then gave him a swift kick to the head. "No need to thank me, they've probably got just as much reason to go after me as for you. I'm Niera, by the way. Niera Secura. And your name, beautiful?" She asked the human woman whose ship she had planned to steal.
"If you really don't need my help--you or the Mandalorian--then I'll be going. Although, I think my offer might appeal to you both. It involves fighting, or I suspect it will once you catch her."
The old Jedi snorted. "Oh please, I don't need help from one of Bastila's pawns. And before you ask, you might want to try and disguise your force signiture, only someone who has recieved advanced training gives off that kind of aura."
"Work? Fight? War? Maybe war, with this one's track record."
He sighed and grabbed her wrist and twisted it. "Now, now. There's no need for that kind of behavior. This gentleman simply had a rough time in the cantina and is going through a difficult time in general from what I can tell. I think you should leave him alone."
Jolee gave her a good look over. "I think that you should know that there's something wrong with Bastila...and the way she's training the jedi she's finding. They've become...more...extreme. They aren't like the Jedi I used to know."
"Va'Koya!Wait! Wait! Wait! You said fighting. Do you mean a job?"
He turned to the Mandalorian. "I really don't think you'd want the kind of job that she'd send you on..."
Nar Shaddaa
Juahni watched from behind her cloak as the thugs surrounded the woman and the droid.
It appears I have no choice.
The cathar sent a jolt of force energy from behind her force cloak up at one of the light panels, dipping the corridor into the darkness and then she lightly pushed one of the thugs just as a blue Twi'lek took out the rest of them.
Gorrak boarded his flagship, a Hammerhead-class cruiser given to him by the Exchange Compeer in his initiation rites as an underboss. His cruiser, which he named the Invincible, was fully operational and in perfect condition. His ship had a crew of 300, keeping the ship constantly in Nar Shaddaa's orbit.
Gorrak also had a Praetorian-class frigate, which he bought himself. It was very old, and it only served the purpose of transportation and avoiding the occasional pirate raids.
Gorrak called one of his captains to check the status of his bounty on the Cathar Jedi.
Tysyacha was definitely puzzled at the sudden appearance of Niera, but even more puzzled as to the Cathar that had also boarded the Ebon Hawk when she and the Twi'lek had been battling the thugs aboard. As her cheeks were flushed hot with flattery and the joy of being complimented as well as aided in a tough fight, the Exile extended her hand to Niera. "Tysyacha Dvyx."
As for the Cathar, she narrowed her eyes. "Who are you? Another thief? Did you take out those thugs back there, or were you with them?" Her head suddenly felt like it had been squeezed in the grip of a rancor's jaws. "I'm sorry. Let's get off this landing pad and out of here before anyone else shows up. We can dump the bodies out the airlock once we're airborne, or at least airborne enough to do so." She wiped her hands on the old, frayed robe she still wore. Once a Jedi, always a Jedi, unless you fall or die.
"T3, get us out of here. Please...now...I don't know how much more I can stand." With a tweedle and twirp of acknowledgement, he took over the piloting functions until the Ebon Hawk was safely above the surface of Nar Shaddaa. Putting her into cruise mode, the utility droid thought it would be safest, or at least safer, to patrol the atmosphere surrounding the moon.
"Now, then," said the Exile. "We seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot, Miss Secura and Miss...?" She didn't know the Cathar's name, first or last.
*********************
CORUSCANT
Chandria, nursing an ailing wrist, skittered away from the two men. Incidents like this were never good. She'd have to put it in her report of the day's events, and not only that, she would have to ask her boss to keep an eye on the two for as long as they were on board Citadel Station. No problem.
What did that old coot mean when he said that the Jedi Bastila was training are becoming more extreme? Jedi are all about peace and balance. Surely he must be joking, or he's been away from the Order for too long.
She remembered to do a composite sketch of him and the Mandalorian male once she got back to the office. Bald black man with unknown helmeted thug.
"I really don't think you'd want the kind of job that she'd send you on..."
Gelvik watched helplessly as the TSF Officer left quickly.
"A job is a job.....but....damn...you scared her away, Old Man. Now what am I going to do for money? Chutkla....I'll have to wait until the next job comes up...whenever that may be."
His mind seemed to be drifting back into his earlier drunkeness.
"We seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot, Miss Secura and Miss...?"
Juhani stared at the woman. "I am Juhani...and this ship you are flying belonged to an old friend of mine. Perhaps you can tell me how it came to be in your posession?"
Telos
"A job is a job.....but....damn...you scared her away, Old Man. Now what am I going to do for money? Chutkla....I'll have to wait until the next job comes up...whenever that may be."
Jolee stared at her retreating back. "Make no mistake...you eventually would have ended up dead if you'd taken that job. Bastila has changed, it's almost as if she's lost her compassion since I last saw her. But...if you really feel the need, go after her and ask her about the job."
He clapped the Mandalorian on the back.
"Well, good look on getting that job if you decide you want it."
Jolee turned and headed for the Cantina.
Tysyacha knew that the Ebon Hawk had belonged to many owners. Revan had commandeered her, yes, but he was not the first, nor would he be the last. There was also Davik Kang, for instance, a deceased crime lord...
"The ship was left to me," replied the Exile, "or, rather, left for me by its previous owner and pilot. I knew him well, and he has gone to complete some unfinished business." She gestured to the main hold of the ship. "Please, sit down and I'll have T3 bring us all some strong shots of juma juice." With a dwoooo of concern, he obeyed the order promptly.
"Thank you, T3! As I was saying, the Ebon Hawk was in good hands before, and she's in good hands now." A smile, and the briefest of pauses. She took a sip of her drink before continuing. "You may call me by my first or last name--just don't call me late for chow when it's around 1800 hours!" Laughter. Tysyacha hoped she didn't sound as nervous as she was feeling.
"I was on Nar Shaddaa because--well, I wanted to play a little pazaak and a little shakhmaty to earn some credits, but it looks like that plan's shot. I'm not exactly on vacation, but you could say I'm trying to remain incognito. I tangled with the wrong people, two associates of the Exchange." Silence.
*********************
The holovid reception in the cantina was terrible. A news report flickered on:
"...hunt for Jedi...operative killer...reward...two million credits if alive."
"Narg!" cried one of the other patrons. "If I had my own ship, I'd go!"
(NOTE: Bastila doesn't trust Psycho, exactly, so she's looking for some other hunters...)
"I was on Nar Shaddaa because--well, I wanted to play a little pazaak and a little shakhmaty to earn some credits, but it looks like that plan's shot. I'm not exactly on vacation, but you could say I'm trying to remain incognito. I tangled with the wrong people, two associates of the Exchange."
Juhani nodded. Even she didn't like to mess with the exchange unless it was necessary. Bounty hunters struck at all hours of the night and she didn't like dealing with them.
"It's been such a long time since I've been aboard the Hawk...It was home to me for many months. It's good to see it in such nice condition."
"The Ebon Hawk has left the docks, sir.", said one of the Invulnerable's crew.
"I want it followed. Send 2 of our stealth fighters. I want our best pilots on it. Tell them not to engage the Ebon Hawk. Just follow and report their course to me. Understood?"
"Yes, sir." The crew member ran to the docks of the Invulnerable.
The Exile was intrigued. "You were aboard the Hawk?" she asked. "When? This has been my ship ever since I found it abandoned--or, rather, waiting for me--at a deserted medical facility on the former planet of Peragus. The planet exploded when...well, that's a long story, but it wasn't my fault. Anyway, you didn't happen to be an associate of a crime lord named Davik Kang, did you?"
She honestly didn't think Juhani would trifle with such a one, being as wary of the Exchange as she seemed at the moment. Still, it didn't pay to be too naive or too trusting of anyone, especially with a dark secret such as she held...
((I can't seem to find the fic that this is based on. Was Revan dark sideded or light sided?))
"You were aboard the Hawk?" she asked. "When? This has been my ship ever since I found it abandoned--or, rather, waiting for me--at a deserted medical facility on the former planet of Peragus. The planet exploded when...well, that's a long story, but it wasn't my fault. Anyway, you didn't happen to be an associate of a crime lord named Davik Kang, did you?"
Juhani sighed. "No...I was part of Revan's journey to defeat Darth Malak...I had a lot of fun on this ship...We would often travel for months at a time...but Mission would always keep us entertained by pranking someone...Jolee would tell tales of his youth...and Zaalbar would tell us the myths and legends of his homeworld. It was the best time of my life."
She got up and headed for her old dormitory. Maybe some of the things I left hidden are still there. I hope those old pictures are.
"If you'll excuse me, I would like to rest now."
((He was light-sided. Look for "Vremya" in the CEC and a lot of Russian titles.))
The Exile caught her breath. This Cathar had traveled with Revan as well? How was it that the Force always seemed to arrange things so perfectly, so exactly, so that this very meeting would take place? It was the kind of thing the Jedi Masters reveled in, and that Kreia had adamantly warned against.
Was this crossing of paths a boon, or a bane? What was more, what of Niera? It was for this reason that she smiled at Juhani and gave her leave to visit either the starboard or port dormitory to rest. Tysyacha wanted to get to know the Twi'lek a little better, and a little more immediately. After all, Juhani may have snuck aboard the Ebon Hawk, but Niera was the one who'd tried to steal it. Funny--she didn't look like much of the thieving type, though her beauty did little to conceal the tremendous strength within her.
"Hello," said the Exile again. "Sorry for the rude way I greeted you, but I did not know if you were of the caliber of the thugs we just eliminated." She tried to laugh, or at least giggle, but the Exile's joke fell flat. "Sorry again." She had rarely found herself stammering this much, especially with a woman. Then again, this was no ordinary woman, or even an ordinary pretty one. Niera had an aura of being hunted, but not hunted prey. Gently, the Exile reached out through the Force and moved Niera's collar back a little to reveal a deep gash on the collarbone. Ugly, yes, but also strangely moving.
"I think I know how that got there," Tysyacha whispered. "Thugs, yes?"
Juhani slowly settled into her old bunk and looked around the room. It looks almost exactly the way I last saw it...except for that gauntlet hanging off the side of the wall. Is it possible it's still here?
She reached under the bed and felt around for a certain something...something that she had considered her greatest treasure.
Is it possible someone found it...I should ho-wait. here is is...
She pulled out a small datapad that she had hidden in the bunk so many years ago...nearly a lifetime ago.
She switched it on to see a holo taken of the group in front of the swoop. Canderous leaning on an assult rifle...Mission sitting atop of Zaalbar's shoulers and Zaalbar leaning against the swoop...Jolee holding a bottle of Fire-whisky and Carth trying to steal the bottle and Revan and Bastila in an embrace while T3 and HK sat in the front. Juhani though...Juhani was leaning against Zaalbar's other shoulder and smiling.
It's been so long since I've smiled like that...felt true happiness like I did back in those days.
She was about to switch it off when she took a closer look at it.
Two other logged images.
Maybe some other time...I really would like to rest now.
"Yes, actually. I recently found myself on Vogga the Hutt's bad side. Naturally, he sent bounty hunters after me, and with me being a Twi'lek woman and all, them finding me means something a good deal more humiliating than death. I wouldn't mind wearing that outfit, but there's no way I'm dancing for him in it." Niera explained, getting a feeling this Tysyacha knew what she meant. "As for why I was trying to steal this lovely freighter, Vogga impounded my ship and sold it to my replacement, and the sooner I get out of Hutt space, the better. Since you seem to be on the run yourself, perhaps we can help eachother out?"
"Have you word of the Ebon Hawk?" Gorrak was anxious. He asked this question 5 times in the span of 1 hour.
"Not yet, sir", answered the crewmember operating the terminal.
================================================== ==========
5 MINUTES LATER:
"Master Gorrak, our two fighters have successfully tailed the Ebon Hawk.", said the crew member Gorrak was pestering earlier. He ran to the bridge panting.
"Perfect. Tell them not to lose the ship or they will lose their lives."
"Agreed," replied the Exile. "Welcome aboard, and I'm glad to have you with me--us," she amended quickly, remembering Juhani and T3-M4. Without further ado, she showed Niera to the cargo hold, garage and workbench, cockpit (which the latter had already discovered), hyperdrive, starboard and port dormitories (Juhani was sleeping in one of the bunks in the port one), and of course, the refreshers. There was the standard option available if you needed to relieve yourself, but there were two if you wanted a wash.
"Either the automatic shower can scrub you down with jets of cleansing fluid and three clean cloths, or you can always request it be turned off if the mechanical arms startle you too much. They move fast, so watch out."
Why had Tysyacha's face suddenly started becoming hot? True, she was speaking about an embarrassing subject, but the showers were big enough--
No. Not now, not here, not ever. Good thing only Jedi can read minds...
"Anyway," she continued, turning toward Niera, "those are the facilities. As for where we're headed next, how about Telos? I helped out the Republic about two years ago with some pesky Czerka mercs. Cleaned them out. I also dealt with the Exchange, sending it into disarray and leaving only one slimy Quarren alive. I hope the Republic's finally put him in a maximum-security prison somewhere." Again, Tysyacha felt herself blushing.
"What do you think? Juhani's asleep right now. Want to set the coordinates?"
Sam'kil Nevar stepped out of the bar, swaying left and right ever so slightly. The inside was a bloody mess now, the target he'd been told to take out had more friends than he was aware of.
A few years of no-force-usage and you suddenly forget to check your surroundings, Brilliant! He downed the last of his Juma-Juice and threw the cup over his shoulder. After this job, he'd have enough money to purchase a ticket to Tatooine. Wish I hadn't given up my ship, no need to go find tickets adn do odd-jobs to get going.
A presence moved through the Force, making him look behind him. A large man, his boss on this mission, stepped up.
"Nice job, but the guards didn't need to be killed." The man said.
"They kinda got in the way, but you never specified letting them live. Where's my money?" Sam'kil pushed.
" Uh-uh, you've got one last job. My, err, company, is feeling the need to have some more muscle." He began.
"Sorry, not interested." Sam'kil interrupted.
"No-no-no. We have our eyes on another Jedi, an exiled one, like you." No ones like me, trust me you murkglack." We'd like to acquire the jedi, unharmed if at all possible. Deal? We'll even pay for your ticket."
Sam'kil thought about this. He could kill the man right here and now, but that not only defied his personality, he probably didn't have the money recquired to get off this rock on him.
"Deal"
"We all know that crap is king--give us dirty laundry!" --Don Henley
Usually, the Coruscanti media were completely objective, unbiased, and factual--if you didn't count on the fact that they themselves were owned by CMC Enterprises, a conglomerate that rivaled the Exchange in power but without all the organized crime and ruthless assassinations going on behind the scenes. At the present moment, they had a new financial backer--the leader of the Jedi Order. Of course, none of the Jedi in the Temple knew of Bastila Shan's being in bed with "the fourth estate", and if they did find out, what concern was it of theirs? If the Jedi didn't have at least a small stake in the workings of the press, how would their interests be promoted within it? Traditionally, the Jedi held a passive role in galactic affairs, preferring to mediate and act as diplomats--and executors of justice--if push came to shove. Bastila, however, thought the Jedi needed to "step up their game" and take a more proactive role in combating evil and punishing those who were.
It was why she'd paid for that thirty-second all-points bulletin on Tysyacha. Bastila wanted the Exile to be pursued, and to know that if the credits stopped flowing, so would Bastila's lenience. It was time to lay down the law and let this murderess know her double homicide would not be overlooked. Thus, she and her assistants interviewed hundreds upon hundreds of possible candidates for apprehending the Exile, with all of them being turned down so far. Psycho was as yet unheard-from, and the rest? They didn't care about justice. They only cared about the two-million-credit reward, or so Bastila sensed through the Force. Rewards helped, but they weren't ends in and of themselves. How could these idiots who applied fail to understand that?
She sighed, hoping that her holonews advertisement would soon pay off.
Sam'kil sat in the third class seat on a cruise to Coruscant, a good place to check for info on this 'Exile' as his temporary boss called her.
It'd better be, I can't afford a ticket off it if I'm wrong.
He stepped off the loading ramp a few hours later, trying to step off any kinks and knots he had in his system.
"Coruscant, how long has it been since I've been to here? A lot has changed in you, oh metal city of a planet." Sam'kil mused. An ad was playing through the holo-screen on the side of a large towering spiral. It was advertising a holo-book about the Mando Wars.
Pfft! As if anyone would ever get the story right!
The ad was interrupted by several exclamation points and a banner reading 'emergency' under it. A picture was shown, and an announcer was talking about Tysyacha Dvyx, a bounty of some sort to calim, and how Bastila wanted her.
"Bastila, now that's a name I've not heard in a long, long time." Sam'kil said. "A twenty million credit bounty, eh? Hmmm, It might be worth it." He made a quick perusal of his credit chips, enough to buy some food and supplies, and the datapad his boss gave him, all about the Exile.
Let's see what she's done to get on Boss' nerves.
Powering up the pad, a picture was shown of the 'Exile'. Now he knew why he recognized the face of Tysyacha. She and this Exile were one in the same.
Hmm, I can track her for Bastila, take her to Boss, and earn a hefty wage! Good, those old instincts are starting to return. Let's get cracking! Wait, which way to the temple?
(Tysyacha, Basty shouldn't figure him out)
"Well, good luck on getting that job if you decide you want it."
Gelvik nodded to the old man, strangely, he was finding his words encouraging. A rare thing for a Mando'a to stumble upon.
"I'll figure out something...but thank you anyway, Old Man."
Gelvik was now standing straight up, and seemed a lot more confident then when he was more drunken. Mandalorians, with their enhanced healing capabilities, recovered quite fast from drunkeness, which worked well for him.
He knew that Female Officer had a job, dangerous, as it might've been, very few things could kill Gelvik, Malachor was an example of that.
How was he going to contact the female TSF Officer?
The answer hit him in its obvious nature. Create some attention that would require TSF attention, from there he'd be able to speak to the female officer with discretion.
He raised his rifle at a nearby group of people.
"OKAY! Hand me your valuables, and I'll consider letting you live!"
Even though half of the patrons at the cantina were in a drunken stupor at the moment, all of them realized what a Mandalorian pointing a gun at you meant. Screams rang out. Several people fell down off of their barstools and scrambled underneath the metal counter where their drinks rested. Others raised their hands in unconditional surrender, throwing down rings and chronometers. Still others fled the cantina, calling for the TSF to help.
It didn't take long for Chandria Sakhar, back at headquarters, to finish her sketches of him and the old man to send to Bastila via holowire. It also didn't take her long to hear the shouts from the cantina and rush to the scene. There stood the exact-same Mandalorian she had been drawing, and with the precision born of countless hours of training, she drew her augmented blaster.
"Halt! Telosian Security Force!" she cried. When the Mandalorian turned toward her, Chandria, in quite an unladylike fashion, hawked and spat upon the floor. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't gun you down right now." She narrowed her eyes. He may have still been drunk, but that was no excuse to try a stickup in the middle of a crowded cantina. Not at all.
"Alright." Niera replied, making her way to the ship's navicomputer and punching the coordinates in. Out of politeness however, she waited for Tysyacha to make the jump into hyperspace.
In hyperspace, when the two of them had a moment alone, she asked, "This ship, it's the Ebon Hawk, isn't it? From what I've heard, don't you think it'd be better to ditch it for a less well known freighter?"
"OKAY! Hand me your valuables, and I'll consider letting you live!"
Jolee chucked to himself, that was one way for someone to draw attention to themselves. Wasn't the kind of attention people didn't normally want but still...
He watched as a TSF officer ran into the cantina with blaster drawn and her eyes blazing with anger.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't gun you down right now."
Jolee chuckled again and watched back as the show began.
Tysyacha chuckled softly to herself. "Call me a sentimental fool," she replied, shrugging her shoulders, "but this ship, the Ebon Hawk, is like home to me. Not only have I had many travels within her metal confines, but she has served me more reliably than any other ship that I--or, rather, T3-M4, my utility droid--has ever flown." She gazed out of the viewport into space.
"Your advice is sound, however. I've changed this vessel's transponder codes more times than I can count. Once we reach Telos, we can either sell her to a parts dealer, of which there can't be too many these days, or abandon her in some vacant lot where someone else can have the hassle of being tailed by who-knows-who." She gave a derisive snort. "Or, if we want to be really sneaky, right before we hit Telos' atmosphere, we can climb into the escape pods aboard the ship. There are two, but each one can only hold two people. That means you and I will go together, and Juhani and T3 will take the other."
Raising an eyebrow, she asked, "What's your preference? Ditch or escape?"
"What's your preference? Ditch or escape?"
Juhani was going to check and see what was going on after she felt the ship lurch into hyperspace from her bunk when she heard the two of them conversing.
"I for one do not intend on abandoning this ship. It is my home and I will not let it go."
Juahni stared daggers at the two of them.
"Uhhh...okay." The Exile suddenly felt her bowels turn to water. This Juhani was strong in the Force, and, Tysyacha suspected, even stronger in combat. There was no way in space she'd risk alienating one of her two new allies aboard the Hawk--for as long as they stayed aboard. She thought of another plan.
"There is something I've heard about, from one of my...late acquaintances. It's called the UMBRA device, meaning Undetectability Manifested By Radioactive Anisotropy. The contraption bends light particles or some such like so that you're virtually invisible. All that could ever blow your cover under UMBRA is jumping to hyperspace. It's the most advanced cloaking device on the market, or should I say, the black market. The Republic has made it illegal for private citizens to own such a device, so only military, law enforcement, and smugglers have access to it." She sighed. "I've heard it costs a full one million credits. Do either of you have that lying around?"
T3-M4 suddenly appeared, listening intently to his Master's explanation.
"It's also incredibly rare. I've heard that the Twi'lek who created the UMBRA prototype, an arch-crime lord himself, had all of his technicians assassinated once the device was complete. He didn't want them suddenly branching off on their own to make more of them--out from under his control.
"Either we find a smuggler," she said, "or we take our chances with the law."
Walking the dark understreets of Coruscant under the shining moonlight, Drayden was shrouded in blackness so that no one could possibly see him passing by, much less hear him, with all of the noise around the galaxy's capitol planet.
He was feeling quite tired today. Tired of everything--the blood, the screaming, the walking, the work of trying to stay in the shadows. But staying in the shadows was his specialty by now, and he knew it would be extremely difficult to get out of them. Once you go, you can never come back. That was what his father had told him before a group of thugs had robbed him.
Drayden had never been to this part of the city before. He was moving again, which he had to do from time to time for obvious reasons. At least, they were obvious to him. He never understood how crime-lords would sit in one place and become powerful only to succumb to the Republic's iron fist when they were discovered.
But Drayden was no crime-lord. No, he was just a puppet on a lonely string, forced to endlessly wander his life away. That appealed to him in some ways, of course, but he wished he could leave Coruscant. He had only left a few times before, and as of late he was forced to go into hiding. There was no way for him to get off-world.
Reaching a spot that he could sense was safe, through a means he did not quite understand yet, he sat down on the ground and took a deep sigh.
Why was he questioning himself like this? He only wished that he knew why....
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't gun you down right now."
Gelvik lowered the rifle. He had accomplished contact.
"You mentioned a job."
He then tossed the rifle to the ground and lifted his hands slightly to show that he was not hostile.
"This seemed the most likely way to somehow achieve contact....the rifles not even loaded."
He hoped that this TSF officer wasn't a trigger-happy one, he was still deadly, even with an unloaded blaster-rifle. He took a short step forward.