Star Wars - Series Fan Fiction ❯ The Wayside ❯ Chapter Eight ( Chapter 8 )

The Wayside

By Gan Xingba

Chapter Eight

 

Upon exiting the bar out the back, I'm led a short distance down a deserted alley before being shoved roughly towards a wall by the woman with the blaster. I manage to reach out and stop myself with my forearms to prevent my head from colliding into it, but before I get the chance to do much else, I'm already being patted down with the blaster once again being pressed against my back. Within a few moments, my blaster is gone, and the woman has seemingly backed up a few steps, surely still pointing a blaster at me.

 

“All right, sunshine, turn around slowly and keep those hands up,” I hear Atton say.

 

If only I had a credit for every time someone called me that. His lack of originality aside, I still comply with his request. I'm not here to try and start a fight anyway. As I turn, I get to see my redheaded captor completely, who I can now confirm is a human female and thus is likely the one called Mira. She looks a bit small next to Atton, and her somewhat revealing get up does not appear to be practical at first glance. However, based on the way she holds a blaster, she looks to be experienced and capable despite this. Additionally, if she is indeed a Jedi, she must have been able to hide her presence from not only me, but Bastila as well. Granted, Bastila was not likely searching the cantina all that hard, but it was an accomplishment nonetheless. No matter, I'm here to talk, not to fight.

 

“You must be Mira, then,” I say. “It's pleasure to make your acquaintance, although I was only expecting Mr. Rand, here.”

 

“Keep up that bullshit attitude and it won't be such a pleasure,” the redhead says sharply.

 

“And if you don't answer our questions, it might be even less of a pleasure,” Atton chimes in, crossing his arms. “Now then, who sent you, and why?”

 

I smile back at the two would-be Jedi as they start they're interrogation. As expected, I immediately feel someone digging into my mind looking for answers. They are nowhere near as subtle or skilled as Bastila was in this department, it seems. As such, I can quite aptly multitask and fend their probing off while still speaking.

 

“Technically, I was not really sent here by anyone, I came of my own free will,” I reply. “But I work for Republic Intelligence, if that's what you mean, although this current excursion does not officially involve them.”

 

“Yeah, and my cousin's a two foot tall Wookie,” retorted Atton irritably, and I'm now almost sure it is Mira doing the mind probing. “I'll bet you left your ID in your other uniform too, right?”

 

He had me there. It would be foolish to carry a Republic ID while on an off-the-record mission like this, so I had naturally left it behind. Of course, the odds are that Atton knows this as well, as it's only common sense, and is merely trying to provoke some kind of response by asking a question he already knows the answers to. It's a fairly common interrogation technique, so I suppose it's not that surprising that he is using it. Still, there is a chance he has some experience at this, judging by the way he is handling himself. I had better just get straight to the point, if this is indeed the case.

 

“Obviously, I lack my official ID, but I have something better back at my ship,” I reply calmly. “Would a Jedi Knight serve to ease your concerns?”

 

For a moment, the two stare at me, clearly trying to feel out my emotions with the Force to try and detect any kind of deception. They quickly glance at each other, though both seem to be keeping me in the corner of their eye. After a moment, they turn back to me, apparently knowing each other well enough to figure out what they were both thinking from that glance. They must have been a part of Vagus' crew for a while, it seems; at least a few months.

 

“That depends, on the Jedi,” Atton replies slowly. “Wh-”

 

“Bastila Shan,” I quickly interrupt.

 

“You think we're stupid?” snaps Mira. “Bastila Shan is-”

 

“Quite alive,” I cut in again with a small smile. “She's been quietly active behind the scenes during this whole crisis, and now that it has been resolved she is ready to step back onto the galactic forefront, as it were. The question is, are you willing to follow her lead?”

 

Silence answers me as the two again seem to be contemplating my truthfulness. They have surely put the pieces together by now. Now all that remains is to see if they accept Bastila's offer.

 

“You do not need to answer now. Just follow me back to our ship, and all your questions shall be answered,” I continue. “You may even keep that blaster pointed at me as insurance if you wish, but I give you my word that there is no trickery afoot. So, what say you?”

 

“Watch that tone, blondie,” Atton snaps quickly, jabbing a finger at me. “All right, we'll play along, but if you think of trying anything, you'll regret it. And that's a guarantee.”

 

000000000000000000000000000000000000

 

The word “anxious” fails to accurately describe my mood at the moment. I think a sabaak analogy fits best: Imagine, if you will, that you are playing a game of sabaak, and have been dealt a very good hand. So good is this hand, in fact you decide to put a rather large amount of money in on this one hand. However, across the table I a very good sabaak player, and he continues to see you as you put more and more money in. In fact, he raises you so that you have to go all in on this one hand. Now, you know your hand is good, and the odds are for you winning, but there is still the possibility that this skilled sabaak player has a better hand that could lose everything for you. Now, take all that emotion that you would be feeling at that moment and examine it. That is how am I feeling right now. I have, after all, been sitting here for the past thirty minutes, waiting for Bastila to return to the ship as I sit here with a blaster pointed at one of my vital organs.

 

Adding to this mood is Atton's constant pacing about the hanger, which started about ten minutes ago. It's also been a good fifteen minutes since anyone has said anything at all, and at least twenty since I spoke, as any remarks I would make were generally not received well. Bastila really needs to get here soon, or I may get shot out of sheer irritation.

 

“Well I'll be…” says Atton out of the blue, suddenly halting his pacing and turning to Mira. “You sense them, too?”

 

Mira nods, and both turn towards the hangar entrance. I follow their gaze, and moment later, Bastila steps through, followed by a small entourage, carrying some travel cases. The first one that draws my attention is the Zabrak, who was referred to as Bao-Dur, walking casually behind Bastila. His robotic arm is far more impressive looking than I had assumed, emitting a constant flickering blue glow from some sort of energy beam that appears to be holding it together. The next one I recognize is the unnamed Echani, her white hair a dead giveaway, and next to her walks what can only be the Miraluka, Visas Marr, with the upper part of her face covered in a red shroud. I've heard that not only are the Miraluka blind in the usual sense of the word, but that they have empty pits where their eyes should be. That this particular Miraluka is actually fairly attractive makes the thought all the more eerie to me. Seeing us, the group moves to approach us, but slow down to a cautious walk when they see the situation I'm in.

 

“I take it this is the companion you were referring to, Bastila?” asks the Zabrak, his voice calm with an almost whispery quality to it.

 

“Yes, that is Mical,” Bastila answers, her eyes fixed on Mira. “I trust that is sufficient reason to point that blaster somewhere else.”

 

The Zabrak nods to Mira, and I turn my head enough to see her put the blaster away. At last, I am able to rise from the crate I have been sitting on. After stretching my legs for a moment, I am returned my blaster, and at last I can breathe a little more easily. Taking up a position next to Bastila, it is only now that I observe the whole group that I realize what a ragtag bunch they are, and I do not simply mean their relative diversity. Their clothes are worn, and they have faces to match. They look as though they haven't seen rest of either the physical or mental nature in weeks. Even Bao-Dur and Visas, the only ones whose expressions are closest to that of the classic Jedi calm, seem to carry the slightest slump in posture, and in the Zabrak's case, noticeable rings under the eyes. Of course, were I battling the Sith for months on end, I doubt I would look much better, if there was anything left of me to look at, anyway.

 

“So, care to explain what's going on?” Mira asks, although it does not seem she cares who answers.

 

“We have been offered a part in rebuilding the Jedi Order,” answers the Miraluka. “It seems that the actual search was for Vagus, but, as we have informed Bastila already, that is now impossible.”

 

“Excuse me, but what exactly do you mean by that?” I ask immediately. “Surely you don't mean…”

 

“No, the General is still alive,” Bao-Dur interrupts. “However, he took our astromech droid and our ship, and then departed to the Unknown Regions without our knowing, and only became aware of where he had gone through a message he left for us.”

 

The Unknown Regions? Isn't that where Revan was supposed to have disappeared to? That cannot be pure coincidence, and that is for certain. I shall have to find out more on this later. For now, however, I should try to hold in my curiosity a bit more thoroughly to avoid any delays. With this in mind, I nod in understanding, allowing the wayward “Jedi” to continue figuring things out.

 

“Back to the point,” Atton chimes in, turning his gaze to Bastila. “It just so happens that Vagus asked us to do the same thing in the message he left us, so we'll help. The question is, do you have any idea how we're going to do it?”

 

“Of course. If I hadn't had a plan, I wouldn't have come,” Bastila responds, and I grimace as her characteristic regal tone rises back to the surface. “We'll need to go on a little trip to meet up with another party, however, so I had your companions take the liberty of packing your things.”

 

“If you mean space travel, I don't think we'll be able to do that with your ship,” speaks up the Echani for the first time. “It's far too small.”

 

She has a point, I realize. That shuttle is not meant for more than two, or possibly three people. With the crew we have gained, it would be impossible to take us to the other side of the planet, much less the galaxy.

 

“I'm aware of that, so I called in a favor,” Bastila says coolly. “It's why we landed in such a large hanger with so small a ship.”

 

Another detail I seem to have missed. I have been far too distracted lately. Looking around, I can tell that the hanger is indeed quite large. A decent sized freighter could easily slide in next to our tiny shuttle. As if on cue, the rumbling of approaching engines catches my attention, and I turn to see a ship approaching the hanger. It takes me a moment, but I soon recognize it as a DT-300 light freighter, one the Corellian Engineering Corporation's latest attempts to prevent Kuat Drive Yards from muscling its way into the light freighter market. Ever since CEC swallowed up Corellian StarDrive after the latter's senior design team was killed in a freak shuttle accident just after the war with Exar Kun, the two companies have been at economic war for domination of the starship industry, always trying to one up each other on every front. CEC clearly makes superior freighters for the civilian market, but the military contracts go consistently to KDY.

 

That is how it has been for my entire life, and it does not appear to be changing anytime soon. Still, every now and then, KDY tries to move in on CEC's territory, or vice versa, only to get shut out with the release of a new, far superior product. The DT-300 is a classic example, offering vastly superior speed and maneuverability while maintaining similar cargo and passenger capacity, not to mention the classic Corellian room for customization. Clearly, the owner of this approaching vessel had taken full advantage of that. The stock model of the DT-300 was ordinary enough, featuring standard circular shape that CEC normally churns out with wedge seemingly missing from the front of the ship to set the cockpit off to the side a bit. However, it is significantly more streamlined and rounded off than other CEC designs, giving it an almost saucer like appearance if you ignore the gap in the front, with no truly unique markings.

 

This specific ship was another matter entirely. In addition to the two turrets mounted on the top and bottom of the craft that came standard, it also had a large cannon jutting out from its left side that looked like it belonged on a capital ship, probably able to swivel for slight targeting adjustments. The only other visible enhancements, visible being the key word obviously, are a series of antennas and arrays crammed into the aforementioned gap at the front of the ship. However, I would bet that there are dozens of other enhancements that just can't be seen. Whoever's ship this was, they were serious about their hardware, even if they seemed to have a penchant for light blue.

 

“Do all Jedi get one of those?” wonders Atton dreamily as the ship enters the hanger.

 

“It's not a Jedi,” replies Bastila with a small smile. “Just a friend of them.”

 

The ship lands almost cautiously, rather like someone setting down a fragile artifact. With a small thud and a loud hiss from the thrusters, it finally sets down. A moment later, the ramp descends to the hanger floor, and out walks its apparent captain. She's a young Twi'lek woman, or more specifically a Rutian Twi'lek, as her blue skin tone dictates. Her appearance is fairly intruiging, for while she has the looks and body of a dancer, she's decked out in the kind of apparel that one would expect on a smuggler, boots, sleeveless vest and all. Striding confidently down the ramp with a rougish grin and her hand resting casually on the blaster at her hip, she appears to be getting quite the kick out of everyone's reactions to her sudden appearance.

 

“Well, doesn't look like Bastila introduced me yet. I'm Mission Vao, and this here's the Blue Bombshell,” she announced, gesturing to the ship behind her. “I hear you guys need a ride.”