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archonate-seorwen · 1 year

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In Medias Res: A KOTOR Fanfiction - Chapter 8

I had covered a short distance through the alleyway that led to the place where I had been taken by Mission and Zaalbar, when I spotted several pairs of eyes staring intently at me in a nearby corner. I looked up and saw that three employees of the cantina were having a break outdoors. One of them was sitting on a crate full of supplies, smoking some kind of particularly smelly plant. Surely it was nothing legal. But nothing here was truly illegal. The other two employees were no doubt engaged in some sort of discussion, just a few steps away from the smoker on his crate. These guys were now staring at me. They were probably wondering what I was doing here, scrutinizing them like they were freaks. I remembered that, dressed as I was, these men thought I was a gang member, a Hidden Bek. I had to act like one.

What might the behaviour of a gang member of the Lower City of Taris be like?

No need to think long and hard. I gave the three men a stern glare. Then, taking a step towards them, I barked:

"What? Is something wrong?"

Suddenly, the questioning faces of the three individuals vanished and were replaced by an intimidated pout. The man on the crate raised both hands, his smoking stick of weed between two fingers, in a defensive gesture:

"No, my friend!" He replied. "We're just taking a break, we don't want any trouble."

I seized this brief moment to stare at him coldly.

"Good." I resumed. " Well then, enjoy your evening, gentlemen."

I concluded in a friendlier tone. The Hidden Beks were indeed official criminals, but they enjoyed a much better reputation than their Vulkar counterparts. This was no time to jeopardise that certainly fragile image. Nor was it the time to be caught out by acting like a brainless brute.

I walked on, leaving the three men behind. I passed through innumerable alleys and streets serving a multitude of residential units, some of which seemed to be of a relatively honest standard, while others were a mass of tiny tenements, no doubt meant for isolated and destitute labourers. The mere image of all these poor people living in such miserable conditions was enough to make me feel a deep sense of shame. Of course, my current situation could hardly be envied by anyone. But it was very unlikely that I would ever experience the same thing as all these people.

Lost in my thoughts, I hadn't even noticed how much time had passed since I had left the residential area. I was drawn out of my reflections when I reached a large and crowded square. It must have been another small business place. However, the goods here were not worthless jewellery and trinkets. It was more about basic necessities: fruit, vegetables, meat, grain. I wondered how these people managed to get such quantities of food, which one would not expect to be so opulent in such a city. The local population pressed around the stalls, the merchants loudly displaying their wares. Sometimes people dressed in clothes similar to mine could be seen patrolling the area. Just as indicated in the information given by Mission and Zaalbar, I was now in the territory of the Hidden Beks. If I remembered well, I had to take the opposite street and walk a few more kilometres to get to my goal: the Beks' headquarters.

Immediately, I made my way through the crowd, avoiding my colleagues of the day, and made my way to the street. The latter was quite busy, though nothing comparable to the marketplace. I could move around with relative ease. As I went along, there were fewer and fewer people around, until I could no longer see anybody at all. Maybe the proximity of the Beks' headquarters frightened the inhabitants? As far as I knew, the Beks were known for their cleverness and concern for the population. But the people, although they were careful not to get too close to the Beks, were able to carry out their activities within a few dozen metres of the Vulkars' headquarters, even though they were looked upon as mindless beasts. All this did not make sense.

As my legs kept carrying me through the Lower City, I spotted a small figure standing on the right-hand edge of the alleyway in the distance, holding a blaster. As I approached, I saw that the figure was guarding a large door. This must be what I was looking for. Certainly a security guard. The little person was clearly a woman, with dark skin and short hair. A couple of tens of metres away from the woman, she suddenly turned her head in my direction, displaying a more than suspicious expression. She tightened her grip on her blaster, and twisted her whole body to face me. I slowly continued on my way, but when I reached a reasonable distance from her, I decided to stop.

"What do you want?!" She promptly asked, pointing her blaster at me.

"Sivir sent me!" I said, holding up both hands, hoping I could persuade her that my intentions were good. The guard looked puzzled. Without ever lowering her weapon, she continued:

"Show your face!"

I nodded my head respectfully. Gently, I proceeded to undo the ribbons that made up what Mission called a "balaclava". But this was no easy task. This semblance of a turban was tightly wrapped around my head, and I couldn't figure out how to loosen it. A minute passed. An unending minute during which I was unable to remove the damn thing. The woman would eventually lose her patience, needless to say. Yet I saw her lower her hands and hook her gun to her belt, right next to a small electric stick. Then she motioned for me to come closer. I did so readily. She delicately grabbed my arm with both hands and applied slight pressure, trying to pull me down.

"Bend over, I'll help you." She said warmly.

I complied and made sure the woman could reach my head. In a couple of seconds I was free of the garment. I reflexively took a deep breath and then gradually released it. I glanced at the security guard, who was making a kind of ball with the strips in her hands. She was smiling at me.

"Indeed, you're quite good looking." She added mischievously, before moving to a hidden terminal near the door.

I gave no reply. The comment had left me momentarily speechless. However, I did not pay any more attention to it. I took a few steps towards the woman, waiting for her to finish her actions. In that fleeting moment, I turned my head back to the street, in its continuation. I hadn't noticed it earlier: in the distance there was a Sith soldier, surrounded by heavy automatic turrets, also guarding a door to who-knows-where.

I had no time to get answers to my questions as the door to the Beks' headquarters slid open.

"Come on in." The guard said. "You are expected, you will be given directions once inside."

"Thank you." I replied before making my way into the base. But the woman stopped me before I could do so:

"Let me warn you anyway: if your intentions are bad, you will die today. You still have time to change your mind."

I stared at the guard, keeping my feelings to myself. After a couple of seconds I gave her a genuine smile and finally walked through the door.

As soon as I stepped inside the building, two rather quiet guards came to meet me and beckoned me to follow them. I nodded and let them take a few steps ahead of me. We passed through the first security gate, which opened up into a huge space, like an enclosed agora, in which handfuls of Hidden Beks were walking around. All of them, at my first appearance, intensely watched me, until I left their sight. The two guards led me down a long corridor, the walls of which were almost literally covered with tiny turrets, ready to fire on any unwanted visitor. Obviously Gadon Thek was not a person you could get close to so easily. The corridor ended in a large reinforced access, itself protected by two huge sentry droids. These machines were at least as impressive in stature as Zaalbar. They were models used by the military. But they didn't look fresh from the factory, quite the opposite. Their entire body was speckled with rust, if not simply dented by the probable confrontations they had experienced. One of the guards escorting me drew a small data pad from his pocket and presented it to the droids. In perfectly timed choreography, the two robots turned their heads to the object and a beam of blue light swept across its surface. When they had finished, the door opened and the droids stepped aside, agreeing to let us through.

Or rather to 'let me' through.

"Come on." One of the two guards eventually vocalised. "The boss is waiting for you."

I complied and passed through the door, which led me into a hallway similarly covered by a myriad of small turrets. Feeling somewhat paranoid, I shivered and decided to rush to the other side of the room, praying that these turrets had been correctly informed of my intentions.

As soon as I escaped from the hallway, I found myself in a sort of entrance hall bathed in a warm and soothing light, emanating from a small lamp placed on a table. At the bottom of the table, a dark brown carpet was spread out, filling a large part of the floor and contributing to the warmth of the place. The atmosphere here was one of comforting intimacy. There was a healthy aura about the whole area, a gentle force flowing throughout. A feeling of well-being. It contrasted so much with all the places I had been before. Even the apartment Carth and I occupied, which was a true sanctuary after all we had been through, could not provide one thousandth of the comfort that was here. I was obviously in the gang leader's private home. And this home was apparently filled with a very positive energy.

How strange.

I realised at that moment that I had once again lost myself in an emotional breeze of a similar nature to that I had felt in the lift to the Lower City. There was something familiar about it. Yet it was more vague. The first time, I believed I had actually perceived a sensation that did not come from me. An unfathomable presence, but coloured by an intense sweetness. Now it was merely a more general perception of the environment, admittedly pleasant, but the experience was quite different.

A voice broke in, pulling me out of my preoccupation.

"Ah hello, dear friend!"

I looked up to see a man with incredibly pale eyes smiling generously at me a few feet away. He was dressed in a baggy black jumper and wide, coal-coloured trousers, the hems of which gently falling down over his bare feet. Despite his rather casual appearance, you could tell that the man was of average height, with a slender, perhaps even athletic build. This was all the more noticeable because the flared collar of his jumper revealed the lines of his musculature, itself emphasised by the man's black complexion.

"Don't just stand there." He continued benevolently, running a hand over his bare head. A probable reminiscence of a reflex belonging to the past. "Come in, come in." The man finished, motioning for me to follow him.

"Thank you." I just replied, somewhat confused. I then went with the man into another room.

"Please have a seat, make yourself comfortable." The man invited.

I was now in a small living room, equally immersed in the same light, in the same warmth. At the heart of the room rested an imposing brown sofa, and two large armchairs of the same shade facing each other. I walked over to one of them and sat down quietly. I expected the man to sit in the second armchair, but I was surprised to see that he preferred the sofa, and he sat on the end closest to me. He laid one arm on the sturdy armrest and, with his pale eyes locked on mine, he asked me:

"Can I get you something to drink?"

The man had been particularly welcoming so far. And, even though he was the head of a gang, what I had heard about him was quite positive. However, I would rather not take any unnecessary risks by ingesting anything from the home of a leader of an allegedly criminal organisation.

"No thanks, I've already had to drink that dreadful concoction back at the cantina. I don't know if I'll ever recover." I replied with a chuckle.

The man broke into a genuine laugh for a while. Eventually he collected himself and resumed in a voice oscillating between amusement and exasperation:

"Sivir's follies will ultimately be our doom."

"It hurts me to admit it, but I understand that they were rather justified." I said, eager to defend the young woman, who had finally been trustworthy, against all odds.

"You're right." The man replied flatly before adding, "Would you excuse me for a second?

I saw him bend down and grab a small box from a small table beside the sofa. He opened it and pulled out a tiny flask, filled with a translucent liquid. He unscrewed the cap, placed it next to him on one of the cushions and quickly brought it over his head. At the same time he leaned back and placed the flask directly over one eye. A few drops fell on the lens. The man did the same on his other eye. Then he returned to his original position, replaced the cap and put the flask back in the box, which was placed back on the surface of the table.

"Eyesight problems? " I asked in curious yet respectful fashion.

The man gave an amused laugh.

"Yes and no." He replied enigmatically. "Yes, because, despite my condition, my eyes sometimes hurt."

I frowned. His condition?

"And no, because being totally blind, I can't complain about sight problems anymore." He finished with another laugh.

Was this guy blind? It hadn't occurred to me for a second. He seemed so present. But as I studied his eyes more closely, it became clear to me that such sparkle could not be something innate. I considered the shade of Bastila Shan's eyes to be particularly remarkable. But there was something almost supernatural about the man's. They were not blue, they were not grey: they were white. An immaculate iris encircling the deep black of his retina. It was an absolutely extraordinary colour. It stood out all the more clearly against the man's black skin. He radiated an undeniable charm, an unequivocal strength.

"I apologise, I had no idea." I finally spoke, feeling suddenly uncomfortable.

"No problem." The man replied. "I came to terms with my peculiarity long ago." He added with a smile, before pausing briefly.

"I am Gadon Thek, by the way." The man said.

I smiled. I had completely forgotten that we hadn't even formally introduced ourselves yet.

"Corem Galhor." I answered with that same smile.

"I'm glad to meet someone like you, Corem." Gadon admitted, his invalid eyes paradoxically fixed on me. "It's a welcome change. We are used to dealing with Brejik's scum."

"The leader of the Vulkars, is it?" I asked.

"You call that a leader?" The man retorted, now suddenly tense.

"I am merely repeating the little information I have." I replied defensively.

Gadon then seemed to relax. His head down, he took a deep breath. His slender fingers began to scratch nervously at a small area of cloth on the armrest.

"I didn't mean to offend you, Gadon." I said, trying not to upset my host.

"You didn't offend me." The man assured, returning to my face. "I was the first one to mention him. It' s a touchy subject."

The gang leader took another gulp of air, which he released with a powerful breath.

"Brejik was my second in command once." Gadon announced, a hint of shame in his voice. "He was like a second child to us."

A second child to them?

"He was a kid from the Outcast village. He had been captured by slavers who were planning to sell him. We rescued him from these people. We took care of him. We loved him just as if he were our own child. We educated him as best we could, in an environment that, I admit, was far from total satisfaction. But it was either that or a miserable life among the Outcasts, or worse: the life of a slave.

Therefore, Gadon had somehow taken the little boy Brejik away from his family living in this village, right? A lot of information in such a short time. Did Gadon have another child? A partner? Were they present in that apartment?

"But Brejik, for all the love he got, was a boy who yearned for fame and success. He wanted to be the first in everything. Not the best. The first."

Gadon paused again. He brought a hand to his eye and wiped away the few tears that were trying to escape. Then he clenched his jaw and closed his eyelids with all his strength.

"I'm sorry." He said painfully. "Tears do tend to make my eyes burn." He leaned forward and placed the palms of his hands against each of his eyes. He remained that way for a moment. Then he straightened up and blew painfully.

"Ironic, isn't it?" He asked with a faint smile. "Having eyes that can't see, but hurt like hell. Double penalty."

I didn't know what to say about it. I couldn't offer this man any comfort. I could perceive his pain. Not only the physical pain, but also the pain that seemed to be forever engraved deep in his heart.

"It was clear that Brejik had never been the best at anything. But we didn't care. He was our son." Gadon finally continued in a grumbling voice. "But he ended up being the first. By betraying the people who cared about him."

Gadon Thek stood up. He took a few steps over to a terminal embedded in the wall, facing the sofa. I watched him. He proceeded to power up the device, using his voice. Then he gave the following command:

"Play film number eight."

The terminal obeyed the voice of its owner. A visual image was displayed. A woman could be seen sitting on the floor. Next to her was a very small bed. And all around her, sheets, duvets and pillows were chaotically arranged. She was smiling brightly. Children's laughter and cries could be heard. Suddenly, the author of these vocalisations appeared in the scene, snuggling up to this woman, who was quite obviously the mother. It was a little girl of about six years old. Both were laughing out loud. A moment of pure joy between a child and their parent. Or rather their parents. The father must have been the one capturing the scene. A suspicion that was confirmed when I heard a deep voice bursting into laughter as well. Gadon's. The man was recording a happy moment in his life with his daughter and his partner.

What had happened to these people?

I suddenly felt sick. An excruciating sensation invaded my whole body. It was taking root in my feet and rising quietly but sharply. What was happening? I looked up at Gadon, who seemed to be paying close attention to the footage, not realising my sudden condition. My breathing became more and more oppressive as the tape progressed. And, as time went on, Gadon grew sadder and sadder, and I grew more and more in pain. This was not the empathetic suffering of a compassionate soul. It was far beyond that. And as this pain crushed me internally, the distress caused by incomprehension joined the journey. So much so that for a brief moment I wondered if I would ever get through this. I had to keep quiet. I lowered my head, closed my eyes and took several long breaths. Gradually I felt the calm returning to me. However, as the terminal fell silent, a final, painful burst of pain swept through me and disappeared as quickly as it had come. Gadon ordered the device to stop and returned to the sofa.

As he sat down, the gang leader gave me a brief, puzzled glance. Then he picked up the box again and proceeded to put a few drops of the solution back into his eyes. A grunt of relief escaped his lips as he put the flask and box back in their place.

"Are you all right?" He asked.

My eyes widened. He had finally sensed my discomfort.

"I had a bit of a rough time." I admitted. "Nothing serious, it's over."

The man said nothing more. He slid casually back into his seat.

"They were my wife and daughter. Almost twenty years ago." He announced sorrowfully.

"Yes." I simply replied.

"They are dead."

A silence filled the room. I expected nothing else. What I had felt was very much the pain of a man who had had his most precious thing taken away from him. But why had I been so affected by his condition? As if it were all about me.

"Brejik killed them. By trying to kill me." The man said. "I don't think he wanted my wife and daughter to die, but if it meant he could get me out of the way, so be it. Fact is, he sacrificed my family, thinking he could have me with them. But I'm still here. All he got from me was my eyes."

"I am truly sorry, Gadon." I told him compassionately. What he was sharing with me was absolutely appalling. How could anyone survive such a tragedy? The loss of your loves by someone to whom you had been equally attached. How could one ever recover from that?

"You want revenge? " I asked.

"No, Corem." The man replied in a voice full of wisdom.

"I want him to understand that the power he has gained by doing these atrocities will come to an end. I want him to understand that despite my pain, despite my condition, I have managed to stay true and decent. I wish I could reason with him. He is my only remaining link to my past."

It was hard to picture what I had just heard. Not only did Gadon manage to remain on his feet, but he was also resolute in bringing Brejik back to him. Had he forgiven him?

The man in front of me was a perfect embodiment of generosity. He displayed a prodigious sense of greatness. The longer we spoke, the more I became aware of the genesis of his positive reputation. It was a remarkable being speaking to me, sharing his deepest sorrows with me. I felt almost proud to be near such a person. It was more than obvious that if this man was doing me a favour, I would have to repay him. In this respect, my own objectives couldn't be neglected for too long.

"If there is anything I can do to help you with this project, I would be honoured." I stated in all sincerity. But I was also hoping, beyond this offer, that Gadon and I could talk about work. I regretted pressing him at a time like this, but my situation demanded it.

"You can help us." The man answered calmly. "But I'm afraid it will only be for a not so noble mission." He clarified.

"What do you mean?"

"I know you need help finding your... colleague." The man said, suddenly looking rejuvenated. "You'd like to attend the swoop race for which she is the prize, is that it?"

"I think it would be better to take advantage of the event to get her out of there, and not to attend it." I joked before continuing more seriously. "I don't even know if she's really there anyway. Our situation is extremely precarious."

"Not that much, trust me." Gadon retorted with certainty.

"Excuse me?"

Gadon smiled mischievously. He commanded his terminal to reactivate and display some log. Data appeared. But I could not read it from my seat. I got up and walked over to the screen:

"Hello Zaerdra. Brejik did get a hold of the last of the pods that crashed near the sewers by the Outcast village. Our source reported that he found two dead Jedi and a General Officer who was alive, but in bad shape. As far as we can tell, she matches the description you gave us of the 'Smart Monkey'."

The ''Smart Monkey'? Was this a moniker given by the Hidden Beks or was Bastila Shan commonly nicknamed as such?

"Your Jedi is in Brejik's hands." Gadon confirmed from the sofa.

I took my eyes off the screen and turned to him.

"But if you know who she is, there's a good chance the Vulkars do too!" I exclaimed.

"Possible," the man replied. "But not extremely probable. The Vulkars are former Beks, in search of thrills and fame in the Lower City. Most have no interest in the affairs of the Republic. Your Jedi is very famous, true. But she was smart enough to be dressed in military uniform, and not wearing any insignia as far as I know. Which made her an ordinary officer. A very nice capture, but nothing to suggest that she is the Order's little prodigy."

"I hope so..." I spoke worriedly.

"If Brejik had figured out that he was holding Bastila Shan, he would have immediately delivered her to the Sith, for a generous payment or for valuable services. And they would have left the planet long ago. Their presence here proves that she has not yet been identified. And Brejik must surely keep her very carefully away from the eyes of his men. She can't have many contacts. More chances for her to go unnoticed."

"Yes, that makes sense." I admitted before releasing a breath. Slowly, I initiated the movement back to my armchair. Once settled, I glanced at Gadon, and addressed him:

"Can you help me find her?"

"I can." The man replied, leaning more firmly on the armrest. "But you'll have to help me first."

"What can I do?"

"I want you to win the swoop race for the Beks." The man replied behind what I hoped was a teasing smile.

"Is this a joke?" I asked curtly.

"No." Gadon retorted. "You are very talented, my friend." He added. "I want you to be my champion."

"I've never driven such a thing!" I countered with urgency. "The last time I put my hands on a speeder handle, it sent me to the hospital, and I stayed there for months! You can't ask me that! It doesn't make sense! Not for me, not for you!

"I have the utmost confidence that you will be able to win this race."

I paused for a moment, gasping for breath. I stared at Gadon Thek. I was totally bewildered.

"And that's enough for you?" I questioned in disbelief.

"Yes." The man professed. "But I can give you some help."

I wrinkled my forehead expectantly.

"We are developing for some years a very promising prototype of an accelerator." Gadon began. "I can have it installed on the swwoop bike you will be riding, which would give you a tremendous advantage."

"You're suggesting cheating, if I get that right." I replied flatly.

"Oh, you absolutely wanted to save your Jedi in all fairness?" The man questioned not expecting an answer. "I'll tell you the plan again: you're my champion, you're racing under the Beks' banner. You drive our best bike with our prototype. You win the race."

"Now I understand why you need me to be your pilot. Be honest and admit that I am only your guinea pig." I said gravely.

"That's not entirely untrue. " Gadon admitted. "But I have a strangely good feeling about you."

"That's reassuring." I sneered. "Can I at least see the vehicle first? Can I take it for a test drive before I crash it during the race?"

Gadon seemed to hesitate.

"There's a little subtlety I haven't mentioned to you yet." He replied, in sudden embarrassment, "This prototype accelerator has been stolen from us by the Vulkars many weeks ago. We'd have to get it back."

"Wait a minute." I interrupted, straightening up, my elbows now resting on my knees. "You want to pick up and install a device that has been stolen from you by the Vulkars, to win a race that is itself organised by the Vulkars?" I summarised in exasperation. "How can you possibly believe that my swoop bike could be allowed to compete under these conditions? Don't you think the Vulkars will find out?"

"The organisation of the race is not the work of the Vulkars." Gadon corrected. "Brejik provides and delivers the prizes, but that doesn't mean he's the organiser. Besides, no matter how much he tries to bribe the Federation to gain influence, they're on our side for the moment. They don't like the idea of a Vulkar champion winning. They'll turn a blind eye."

" Damn, what a mess... " I sighed.

"Yeah, what a mess." Gadon repeated, sounding somewhat amused. "Anyway, the priority now is to get the accelerator back."

"I do hope you get it back in time." I told him with detachment, but I knew that the rest of the story would not be in my favour.

"That's why I recommend that you find Mission Vao. I believe you have already met her. The Vulkar base has a hidden entrance that can be reached through the sewers. And Mission is the person who is most familiar with the sewers of this sector."

"Well, is there anything else you'd like me to do for you by the way? " I asked in a defeated voice.

"How long do you think the Republic can survive without Bastila Shan?" The gang leader countered.

I sighed. There was no other option. I was now certain that the prize for the winner of this ultimate race was Bastila. I had to do whatever I could to find her.

"Can you at least tell me where Mission is right now?" I asked.

"She's probably out with Zaalbar." Gadon answered. "She'll probably be back in the night. In the meantime, you can stay here. You should get some rest. We'll talk more about this tomorrow, with Mission."

I nodded.

"All right." I said emotionlessly.

We remained silent for a short while. I reviewed everything I had just lived in this room. The warmth of the place, the friendly smile of a gang leader, his pain and, despite the surreal events to come, I remembered the message sent to whoever it was that Bastila Shan was alive and that we finally knew how to find her. At that moment, a question that was certainly not of any interest crossed my mind, like a flash of lucidity that was somewhat superficial. Then I spoke again:

"Who is Zaerdra?"

Gadon Thek again broke into a burst of laughter:

"Haha, don't worry. She'll know how to introduce herself to you very quickly, trust me."

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archonate-seorwen · 1 year

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In Medias Res: A KOTOR Fanfiction - Chapter Seven

Hello !

Here is a new chapter. Again, I'm sorry for the English mistakes. I would like to remind you that I am not a native English speaker.

I hope you''ll like it!

The journey to the Embassy Area was not exactly a pleasing experience. In my new attire, I hardly felt at ease. I thought for sure that everyone's attention was on me. However, my rationality urged me not to slip into this burgeoning paranoia. Still, to avoid encountering any stares, I kept walking head down, praying to the gods that no harm would come to me that might jeopardise what was to come. About twenty minutes were enough for me to eventually reach a first Embassy, or more precisely a Consulate. Most likely the Consulate of Makeb, a planet that had been colonised by the Republic during the Mandalorian wars. However, the Republic's power there was still precarious, hence the need to set up embassies on various planets.

The Embassy area was very vast, and the Taris authorities were obviously taking great care of the place. All was particularly gleaming. From the first stone column of the Onderonian Consulate to the last cobblestone pavement at the end of this unique avenue, home to the Sith Embassy.

The Sith had seemingly been marginalised at the very back of the zone, almost like they had been kept out of the public eye. Yet as I walked down the almost deserted lane, I could see in the distance that the Sith had devoted considerable resources to their facilities: the entrance was more like a massive bunker rather than a somewhat ostentatious chatelet. The Sith knew they were in hostile lands. Getting into the Embassy could not be done too easily.

However, it wasn't my destination. About a hundred yards from the legation, I spotted a barred passage on my right, guarded by a Sith in full armour. This was the lift I was looking for. I nervously patted the pocket that housed the pass Mikann had rigged. It was time to move on. I spun around to face the Sith soldier and started walking, pulling the small object from its pocket which I hoped would allow me to get down safely.

As I was standing a few feet away from the Sith, I noticed him pointing the face of his shiny helmet at me. At the same time, I saw that he was gripping his shoulder-mounted blaster rifle more tightly.

« Hello. » I greeted politely, ignoring these last, rather threatening movements.

« Sir. » A synthetic voice answered through the helmet. « May I help you? » He then asked in a surprisingly cordial tone.

I hadn't been around many Sith. The few I had spoken to had been, I must admit, rather friendly. They were often depicted as power-hungry beasts, so perhaps there was an excessive tendency to lump them all together. The man standing in front of me was nothing more than a soldier doing his job. He had no reason to needlessly attack me, be he Sith or not. And his nervousness could be attributed to the somewhat tense political climate here, and certainly also to the fact that he was guarding the access to an area of Taris that was swarming with thugs and criminals.

« I have to get to the Lower City. »

I stated assertively, holding out the security pass to the man. He loosened the grip on his rifle, grabbed the item and replied as he started to turn his back to me:

« I’ll have a look at this, please wait a moment. »

The soldier made his way to a small terminal hidden in a sort of lectern right beside the lift door. He inserted the passkey and performed a couple of manipulations. Although I was by no means qualified to make any judgement, I knew that Mikann had done a fine job. She had no reason to play me. At least, I could not think of any way in which it would benefit her. The consequences would, in my opinion, be more harmful than favourable for her. Despite all these thoughts, I couldn't help but feel anxious. I needed to maintain my composure. And I needed to be ready to play the role of the idiot who'd been conned if anything went wrong. Seconds later, the Sith retrieved the pass and came back to me. He handed it to me, I wordlessly picked it up and slipped it back into my pocket.

« All right, I'll get you in. »

I resisted exhaling a sigh of relief. The soldier returned to the terminal and, using it, he opened the door to the lift. I stepped forward, ready to board, although somewhat apprehensively. Before I could cross the threshold, I saw the Sith waving his hand at me:

« Be careful down there. » He began. « Your pass is anonymous, so you are not familiar with the Lower City. »

I kept quiet, but still paid attention to what the soldier was saying.

« You're going to be dealing with a completely different population than here, trust me. I'm not saying that you're going to necessarily get into trouble, but don't draw too much attention if you want to get back up in one piece. »

I remained silent for a short while. Then I nodded gratefully:

« I understand. » I replied. « I'll be careful. Thank you. »

The man nodded back and let me into the lift.

Once inside, the Sith immediately locked the door, leaving me bathed in the yellowish glow of the machine. There was a switch that offered me a simple way down to a single level.

« No need to worry about getting it wrong. » I said, pressing the button.

The lift started working immediately, and with a dreadful roar it began to move downwards. Right next to the switch, I noted that some sort of countdown clock had appeared.

I assumed it was the time needed to get to the Lower City. Evidently this was not to be done in a matter of seconds; actually, I discovered that I had about fifteen minutes to kill. Fifteen long minutes in this filthy, gloomy semblance of a container. Never mind. I chose to sit down and close my eyes for a while, trying to ease my mind. Gradually, but steadily, the very unpleasant rumblings became more and more tolerable, eventually turning into something restful. The yellowish light coming through my eyelids was now like a gentle twirl against my retinas. In this sensory dance that was taking me away, I was feeling things I had never felt before. At least, as far as my memory was willing to deliver. I was fine. I felt like myself. But all of a sudden, a new emotion arose. A feeling that was familiar, and at the same time completely alien. A feeling that did not belong to me, but somehow belonged to this moment. A comforting feeling. Of a deeply caring and genuinely compassionate nature. It didn't seem to come from me, but it was there. Like a contact that had just been made.

It was strange, but nice.

However, this moment was finally too short-lived, as some turbulence unfortunately heralded the end of this curious journey. I got up quickly, and got ready to face the first images of this Lower City.

The door swung open again, revealing a slightly larger chamber into which I stepped. As I made my way through the chamber, a saturated voice echoed :

« Wait a second, please. »

I complied.

« Good, you can come out. »

I left the chamber and was approached by another Sith soldier, presumably guarding the lift from the Lower City. The man, also in full armour, came over to me:

« I have been sent your accreditation. » He said, as he nervously patted his rifle. « What exactly are you going to do down here? »

He then questioned me. I chose to wait for a moment before answering. With only his synthetic voice as an indicator, I found it difficult to perceive his intentions: was he suspicious or simply curious?

« I don't think you are entitled to ask such questions. » I told him sternly. « The Sith authorities have considered my reason for coming here to be valid. » I continued, pulling the security pass from the pocket and waving it in front of his face. « You should hold it right there. »

I had spoken this last sentence in a somewhat threatening manner although I did not necessarily mean to. The soldier tightened his grip on his weapon. I had offended him.

« All right, move along. » The Sith concluded as he loosened his hold on his blaster.

I shot him a challenging glare before heading into the city. I travelled several hundred metres through dilapidated corridors before I came to a final door leading into the heart of the city. As I approached it I could hear what sounded like a hubbub, which was only growing more and more dense. I finally got the door open.

I was not prepared for such activity. As soon as the passageway was cleared, I was approached by a few onlookers, apparently selling worthless trinkets, who had presumably set up against the door.

« Hey! » One of them shouted. « You've just messed up my whole shop! »

I stared at the man, then at his pile of junk that he had the audacity to call a "shop". I had the feeling that communication down here was going to be much harder than in the Upper City. Only the gods knew how annoyed I was by behaviour like that of the man before me. Surprisingly, as time went on, I grew more and more confident, something I lacked when I was in the presence of my colleagues on the Endar Spire, and even of Carth. Here I was alone. I was no longer the new kid in town serving his superiors.

The man was getting impatient. I scrutinized him another few seconds, before unzipping my vest firmly, revealing the distinctive butt of my heavy blaster.

« Excuse me. » I spoke bluntly, straddling his pile of junk and setting straight ahead, taking significant distance from the onlookers. Fortunately, it seemed that my attempt at intimidation had worked on them. But I was doubtful that such an effort would have the same effect on street thugs.

This area of the Lower City was extremely busy. Making your way through the crowds was quite a challenge. This population was noticeably less "dressed up" than that of the Upper City. Yet, as I looked around at the crowd while searching for the shops Sivir had mentioned, I realised that they were not so different. The people here were also from all walks of life: they were families, workers, scoundrels... And I noted that among these people I provoked no kind of interest. Sivir did well in preparing stuff for me before going down. As I sank into this pseudo-sociological analysis, a piercing female voice startled me:

« Come and have a look at my high value gems and jewellery! Get a safe investment! Or give yourself the chance to make your beloved one happy! Step right up, I exceptionally slash my prices! Just for today, don't miss the opportunity! »

I turned in the direction where the voice was coming from. However, because of the overwhelming crowd, finding the speaker was quite a struggle. Not far from me I could hear a couple of Twi'lek giggling:

« Oh boy, she slashes her prices every day. » The man sneered, his arms folded and his gaze directed at what I assumed to be the saleswoman's place.

« She has determination, you can't deny that. » The woman replied. « But everyone knows now that her jewellery is just crap. I can't believe she hasn't been shot by the Exchange yet. »

« She's probably getting some with the bounty hunters, it's all I can think of. » The man responded, causing them both to laugh wildly.

Bounty hunters, the Exchange... Was that the criminal organisation? Just what I needed.... Never mind, I didn't want to spend any more time on it. I resumed my walk, following roughly the direction in which the Twi'lek was looking. Gradually, the saleswoman's voice became louder and louder. After a few more steps, I could finally lay eyes on her and her shop - obviously much more polished than those of the guys I'd been bothering earlier. She had a whole bunch of jewels and stones on display, each one more sparkling than the previous one. So sparkly that it looked very suspicious.

I wasted no more time standing here watching rubbish, I moved my head to the left and saw a long row of shops and kiosks, all of which seemed to be selling jewellery. I turned my head to my left and spotted a long row of shops and stands, all seemingly selling jewellery. This was exactly what Sivir had mentioned. I walked down the lane and past the shops as best I could. After about ten minutes I came upon the very last shop, that was quite close to a doorway, where four or five heavily armed mercenaries were hanging out - they were Kadas'sa'Nikto, given their scaly green skin.

« Don't stare too long, if you don't want any trouble. » The shopkeeper of the last stand annouced. I directed my attention to him. He was watching me with his arms crossed, standing behind his stall.

« Or at least do it somewhere else, away from my business. I've had enough problems with them already. »

I cast a final glance at the mercenaries before taking a few steps towards the man.

« Sorry sir. » I replied. « I don't want you to have any trouble. »

The man stood silent, and kept looking at me. But there was no mistrust, no hostility. He just had nothing to say.

« Do they come after you frequently? » I asked.

« In your opinion? » The man retorted coldly. « I have the worst possible location. And I don't have a very developed network. These thugs get bored all day standing here. And since they're retards, instead of playing Pazaak, they'd rather annoy honest people. »

« I see. » I said flatly. « Indeed, better avoid any form of contact with them. Involuntary or not. »

« I can only advise you to do so. » The shopkeeper responded somewhat more sympathetically. « Vulkars are known to behave like spoiled brats. Only, spoiled brats can still be subdued. The Vulkars have weapons and, despite their generalised intellectual deficiency, they know how to use them. »

So they were Vulkars. Sivir never mentioned this. Even though it was a foregone conclusion.

« You're from the Upper City? » The man suddenly questioned.

« Sort of. » I conceded, trying not to give away any more information.

« So watch your backs. Gangs, bounty hunters, thieves, all of these things make our city a dangerous place, for sure. But what makes it potentially deadly for people like you is the lack of information. When you know how to behave, you can avoid a lot of problems. »

I stared at the man. The words he had just spoken to me were full of an insolent accuracy. He was absolutely right.

« Well then, I thank you for letting me know about the nature of these people. I will try not to provoke their curiosity. »

« You're welcome. » He replied. « You should be messing around in Javyar's cantina, which is in Bek territory. I don't hold them in high regard either, but they're much more pleasant and clever than their Vulkar counterparts. » He went on. He then waved his hand and pointed in a direction behind me: an alleyway facing the guarded Vulkar gate. The alleyway Sivir had advised me to go down.

« It's that way. Just go through the alley. »

I nodded understandingly. I greeted the shopkeeper and set off again. I made sure to mingle with the few people who dared to walk so close to the Vulkars, and hurried down the passageway. It was dreadfully dark. The narrowness of the place left little chance for artificial light to get through. The other end of the long alleyway was nevertheless visible, since the various signs on the opposite street swayed almost harshly in the gloom. I made my way as best I could to the end. However, it was very tricky to move around here in groups. So the alleyway was more like a huge queue than a real traffic lane. Nevertheless, I eventually got to my destination, my senses in turmoil as my eyes had struggled to find their way in the darkness and my nose had been assaulted by the worst smells a poorly maintained city could offer. But I was out of there.

Just as Sivir's message had stated, I soon spotted a small Rodian on my right with an old blaster whose paint was peeling off. I approached him, and as I did so I could read the sign just above the door he was guarding: « Javyar. » There it was. Immediately, I went inside. The Rodian merely glanced at me wordlessly.

The entrance to the cantina led to a huge gaming table. A handful of people were sitting there playing all sorts of gambling games. The most famous of them being Pazaak. I bypassed the table and walked across the room to the main space: a circular area whose central hub was the bar. Around it stood dozens of customers; men, women, humans, Twi'leks, Rodians or even Zabraks. This place was a surprisingly homogeneous mix of all the diversity of our galaxy. At least in appearance.

Wasting no more time, I found an empty spot at the bar and settled there. I leaned nonchalantly on the counter, waiting for someone to come and serve me. On the other side of the bar, I could see a bartender pouring drinks to a curious-looking guy: he looked small, but stocky. He was wearing a sort of sand-coloured cap, with several remnants of cloth falling around his neck. His face, which was massive, was covered by a pair of pilot's glasses with dark lenses. He was dressed in a thick blue jacket topped by large leather shoulder patches. I didn't know who he was, but from the expressions on the faces of all my counterparts at the bar and on the man serving him, he must have been one of those guys you didn't want to mess with. So I averted my gaze from him, to spare myself any trouble. A few moments later I felt a wave of relief all around me. I looked up and saw that the little man had gone into another room.

« What can I get you? » The barman, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, asked.

I stared at the man and was about to declaim the absurdities that Sivir had recorded in the data pad. I swallowed and replied:

« Your strongest liquor, please. »

The bartender immediately got to work. He deftly grabbed a glass and a bottle with a golden liquid. He poured a small measure and placed the glass in front of me. Now it was time to take a sip and speak that crazy line. I felt increasingly uncomfortable, all the more so since I was by no means alone at the bar. All I had to do was raise my elbows slightly to touch my neighbours on the left and right. I was going to look like a complete idiot.

I sighed quietly. Come on. Be strong. I'd managed to outwit the Sith, avoid the Vulkars, I wasn't going to let the fear of being laughed at get the best of me.

I took the glass and tilted it so that the liquid reached my mouth. I didn't know what it was exactly, but the way the alcohol burned my gums, I didn't even want to know what it could do to my gullet. I put the glass back down, facing the bartender who was vigorously wiping off some of the dishes. I gave him a few uncertain glances. At last, I spoke forcefully, yet with great apprehension:

« Here is a beverage worthy of the finest in this quagmire! »

Suddenly a stunned pause occurred. I noted that the customers sitting next to me had all ceased chatting and were staring at me with a look that oscillated between astonishment and contempt. The bartender had interrupted his washing up and was glaring at me.

« She made a fool of me. » I thought.

Now I saw the bartender slam down the cloth and the glass he was wiping. He came over to me and, with his hands flat on the counter, he said in a murderous voice:

« The finest in the quagmire are nothing but court jesters. »

He then straightened up and resumed his business before continuing :

« Drink up, pay up, and get out of here before I have security kick you out. »

I would have liked to just look like an idiot. I had just nearly caused a diplomatic crisis. In any case, Sivir had definitely fooled us. Carth was right. But why had I been brought here so « seamlessly », only to find myself persona non grata in the cantina? And Mikann had assured me that I could trust the Hidden Beks. Or maybe she was playing with me too.

The bartender put down his cloth again, and walked to another guy on the other side of the bar. A colleague, most likely. I hadn't even noticed him. From where I was standing I could see them exchanging in an attempt to keep a low profile. He was probably informing the other guy that he had to keep an eye on me.

Then I saw this new person come from the other side of the ring, from my right. He positioned himself in front of me and leaned against the counter, exactly the way his colleague had done a few minutes earlier. In a hushed voice, he began the conversation:

« I apologise for my friend. » He started with quick glances around us. « We have a room available for people like you who value quality. Please follow me. »

The man straightened up and went to the other side of the bar, from which he emerged through a small swinging door. He turned and gave me a firm nod. I leapt up and, leaving my drink aside for anyone who might want it, set off after the bartender. Alongside him I entered another room in the cantina, a room for bands and dancers. A small auditorium, dominated by a promontory stage and surrounded by benches, armchairs and small tables. The room was particularly crowded that evening. The customers were enjoying their drinks, almost bewitched by the swaying of the almost naked female dancers. Nothing like a room full of horny males, unable to take their eyes off these poor women, to hide more confidential spaces. The bartender and I made our way to the back of the stage, where a secure door appeared. The man made a few manipulations on a small terminal built into the door, and it opened. He entered first. The interior was completely dark. I could hear the man take a few steps, and a couple of seconds later the light turned on. Then he came closer to the door we had just passed and said to me emotionlessly:

« Someone will come. »

Then he left the room, leaving me completely alone. He took care to lock the door behind him. The little comfort I had regained evaporated in a split second. In front of me there was another access to who knew where. I went towards it and tried to open it. Nothing happened. I was trapped in this tiny room. With my arms crossed and my eyes staring at the floor, I paced back and forth. Until the door I had tried to force open was activated. A gigantic shadow stood in the doorway. My heart began to pound. Hard. Quickly. So fast. Without thinking, I grabbed my two blasters, ready to defend myself against whatever was about to fall on me. Then I heard what sounded like an animal roar. Nothing that could soothe my distress. I gasped, an uncomfortable heat running through my body, so that I felt a few drops of sweat trickle down my back.

The shadow made a movement, and looked as if it would walk through the doorway. As the creature revealed itself in the dim light of the room, I thought I recognised a species which I certainly did not expect to meet here. At last the huge figure passed through the doorway and, standing up to its full height, it presented itself to me like a wild beast launched into the arena, ready to attack its prey. At least that was what my survival instinct was warning me.

There was no doubt now. It was a Wookie. I was facing a Wookie. And for the first time since the beginning of these crazy adventures, I felt small. Ridiculously small.

At the sight of my two blasters aimed at him, the Wookie let out a wall-shaking roar. Just as I was about to defend myself, a soft voice interrupted the moment:

« Stop, Zaalbar! »

Suddenly the Wookie fell silent and turned his back to me. He stepped aside, leaving the way clear for the other person who had just intruded orally. Not quite ready to lay down my weapons yet, I watched this new silhouette in the doorway, who eventually entered the small room. I then saw a very young woman emerge alongside the Wookie. She had blue skin and two Twi'lek lekkus. It was the girl I had seen with the Sivir on the night of the reception. Immediately I lowered my blasters and stared at the teenager with a relieved, if somewhat shattered, sigh.

« You! Why didn't you go in first? » I asked in exasperation. « I would have felt less endangered. » I finished while replacing my weapons in their respective holster.

The young woman glared at me. She put her hands on her hips and responded indignantly:

« Hey, should I be offended?! » She barked in her childlike voice. The Wookie, who had calmed down, nevertheless let out a grunt in solidarity with the Twi'lek.

« I have already seen you before. » I clarified in an effort to pacify them. « You can understand that between someone I've seen before – with someone we both know – and a Wookie twice the height of the door, I might feel a little nervous. »

The very young woman crossed her arms and glanced at her tall companion, who instantly returned the favour. She then smiled mischievously and shifted her attention to me:

« I'm teasing you! » She proclaimed playfully. « Zaalbar is very protective of me. He always takes the lead, he can't help it. » The little Twi'lek explained, looking tenderly at her friend.

I watched these two partners, somewhat bewildered, without really believing what I was seeing. The duo she formed with Sivir had already proved to be a curious one, but here again I was generously served. I took a step forward and addressed this Zaalbar:

« I apologise. » I said sincerely. The huge creature stared at me attentively. « I'm not a psycho. But I would like to stay alive as long as possible. »

The Wookie just stared at me for a while. I could discern from the corner of my eye that the young woman was stomping softly, her face fixed on her companion. He didn't seem to be paying any attention to the Twi'lek's gesticulations.

« Come on Zaalbar! » She exclaimed, giving the Wookie's arm a light tap. « You see, he means us no harm! And Sivir trusts him. Please suck it up! »

Zaalbar stared at her friend and gave a short series of resigned grunts, causing the young woman to smile widely. The Wookie had finally accepted my apologies. By emotional blackmail, indeed, but he had accepted them. If I had the chance, I would try to prove myself worthy of his respect. But in the meantime, I didn't know the details of what was to come.

« Okay! » The Twi'lek continued. « Let's move on to the serious business. »

« Please. » I replied rather impatiently.

« You've made it this far, now you need to get to the Bek base. » The Twi'lek went on. « It is not very far from here. You'll have to walk a few kilometres, in the direction of the lift that leads to the refugee village and the sewers of Taris. I'll give you exact coordinates. »

« Your base is in the sewers? » I cut in with a candid voice.

« Of course not, I never said you had to use the lift! Please let me finish, and pay more attention! » The teenager grumbled. « The base is several hundred metres from this access. It's a door much like the one the Vulkars have. You walked past it earlier. »

I nodded knowingly.

« The person guarding the door is a human, dark-skinned, short-haired and of small stature. She is armed with a blaster and a stun stick. Just tell her that Sivir sent you. She'll let you through. »

I shot the little Twi'lek a wary look, to which she responded with an uncertain pout.

« What? » She questioned.

« Is that all? » I replied. « I've been brought here, followed some ridiculous protocol, only to be told that all I have to do is tell your guard that Sivir sent me? » As my tone gradually rose, the Wookie seemed to tense up. The teenager seemed to be trying to suppress a fit of laughter from the moment I mentioned the protocol issue.

« What's the big deal? » The young woman added.

« What's the big deal? » I repeated aggressively, which certainly didn't help ease the tension I felt in Zaalbar. « Damn it, why didn't Sivir give these last instructions directly in her message?! Why did you make me play your stupid role-playing game? »

« To cover your tracks. » The teenager retorted flatly. I found myself momentarily speechless. She continued in a much more serious manner than when we started talking:

« Most people here don't care who goes up or down. But the current situation is shaking things up a bit: a guy who manages to get into the Lower City when the Sith are tightly controlling all the accesses, that can raise questions. So we've prepared this little tour for you, and for your potential pursuers. »

I watched the young Twi'lek. I let out a long exhale before speaking again:

« I understand. » I acknowledged, my eyes on the ground. « But I'll have to get out of here, won't I? Any pursuers will just have to resume the process. »

« If you leave the cantina the way you came in, it's pretty obvious. » The Twi'lek remarked. « That's why we're going to take you out elsewhere. Follow us. »

The teenager, followed by her giant companion, walked back through the door behind them. I kept a distance of a few metres before imitating them. On the other side was a wide, dark corridor, lit only by tiny red diodes. At the end of this corridor there seemed to be another entrance. But I wasn't sure, given Zaalbar's imposing stature.

Indeed, the sound of another door could be heard. And immediately the two friends went through it. I hastened slightly and went through it myself. We were now in what looked like an appartment. The same kind as the one where Carth and I had made our « home. » Only this one was much smaller. The windows were completely obscured by thick curtains. In one corner there was a single bunk. In another corner there was a small round table and two chairs, next to a tiny kitchen. I didn't even see a sanitary cell. Perhaps here these facilities were shared with all the occupants of the building.

« Come over here. » The young woman called out, as she walked closer to the bunk. Zaalbar was leaning against the wall near the front door of the flat. I approached the Twi'lek. I watched her dig into a chest at the foot of the bed and pull out a pile of clothes. Then she stood up and gave me a frank look:

« You're going to change. » She told me bluntly. « It's our gang's outfit. » She said.

I reached for the clothes and untied the pile, examining the pieces one by one.

« Hey, we're not introducing you to a fashion parade, so put it on quickly! » The young woman grew impatient. « And you'll let me put the balaclava on you, you won't know how to do it yourself. »

« The what? » I questioned, my eyes fixed on her.

« Hurry up! »

I complied with the little Twi'lek's order immediately. In a few minutes I had discarded almost all the clothes Mikann had given me. Simultaneously, I had seen the young woman working by the door we had come through; a moment later, a vertical panel emerged from the floor and covered the door.

Once I got dressed, the Twi'lek walked over to me again, grabbed the last of the clothing and proceeded to put it on me.

« It would be nice if you could sit down, I'm not exactly your size. » She said. I obliged, taking place on the bed. Now the teenager was able to put on the so-called 'balaclava'.

It took her several minutes to overcome this strange accessory. It was obviously designed to be wrapped around the head in such a way as to conceal the face almost completely, leaving openings only for the eyes and mouth. And before we could even think of starting the manoeuvre, it had been necessary to untie my hair and press it as best we could against the surface of my skull.

« That's it! Now all the curious ones who might have followed you will have a hard time getting their hands on you again! » The young woman exclaimed. « You are ready to complete your journey! »

« I can't wait. » I sneered, getting up from the bed.

« Zaalbar, gimme the coordinates! »

She called out, no longer paying any attention to me. The Wookie lifted himself off the wall he'd been standing on and searched through a satchel slung over his shoulder. He looked like he was getting something out of it, but given his size and the length of his fur, it was impossible for me to distinguish any item. He went to his friend, waiting for him with both hands joined. He dropped a small data card into it and the teenager extended it to me.

« Insert this in your pad. » She said. « You'll get a clearer idea of where to go next. Try to memorise. A Hidden Bek who needs a map to get to his base, that sounds strange. »

I nodded and grabbed my small data pad into which I inserted the card. Indeed, a map popped up, along with a number of instructions. The itinerary didn't seem very complicated. I had been given a few precise landmarks that were easy to remember. I looked up at the young woman and said:

« Thank you… » I paused. « What’s your name, by the way? »

The Twi'lek replied with childish cheerfulness :

« Mission Vao! »