《STAR WARS: Knights of the Old Republic》CHAPTER 1
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A dark figure dressed in a long hooded robe stared out the viewport of their flagship. They watched the ships battling in front of him in the black expanse of space through the thin visor of their Mandalorian mask. Their cape hung loosely off their shoulders as they slowly turned, hands clasped behind their back, to regard the newcomers to flagship's bridge.
A woman adorned in the robes of a Jedi Knight, followed by several other Jedi Knights, slowly entered the room, lightsabers drawn. The woman's dark brown hair was braided at the back, with two smaller braids on each side of her head. Her serious demeanor and her double-bladed yellow lightsaber conveyed an heir of confidence and utter disdain for the figure in black.
"Dark Lord!" she called out to the hooded masked figure, "you are by the authority of the Jedi Council and Galactic Republic been deemed guilty of war crimes and sentenced to death! Stand down!"
The Dark Lord of the Sith regarded them for a moment from behind the visor of his mask. With a hiss and a crackle he ignited his crimson lightsaber. He stretched out one of his hands, effortlessly lifting the four Jedi Knights behind the Jedi woman into the air, and closing his hand into a fist, snapped their windpipes. The four Jedi Knights landed on the cold floor of the ship with a thud. Their lightsaber hilts rolling across the floor. The Dark Side radiated from his presence in a cold aura.
"You were once a great Jedi, Revan," the woman called out," You have brought shame to the Jedi Order! You will pay for all the innocent people you've slaughtered! This ends here!" She leapt across the room quickly closing the gap between her and the Sith Lord. Sparks ignited as their lightsabers clashed.
Venar woke with a start, beads of sweat had accumulated across his fair skin. His brown eyes darted across the room as he sat up in a bed he was unfamiliar with in a what appeared to be a dark apartment. His dark brown hair sat in a matted mess atop his head.
"I wasn't sure you were ever going to wake up", came a man's voice from somewhere off to his left. The lights in the apartment suddenly came on and a man with dark hair that had been combed neatly and that partly hung down over his forehead walked into view. His face was scruffy and he had the look of someone who had seen a lot even though Venar knew he couldn't be much older than himself. Probably late thirties he guessed. His wore a weathered tan jacket and dark pants.
"Who..." Venar struggled to sit up in the bed," who are you?"
"Sorry," the man said, "I'm Carth Onasi, of the Republic Navy, you took quite a beating in the crash. We're honestly lucky to be alive."
"I guess I owe you my life then," Venar said as he stretched, every bone aching in his body, "how did we get here?"
"You got knocked out in the crash," Carth explained, "luckily, I wasn't badly hurt and I was able to drag you to safety. Our pod crashed in the undercity, a dark place where the outcasts of Tarisian society are sent to carve out a miserable existence. This planet is under Sith occupation but a couple scavengers helped me get you to the upper city and find this place. It's an apartment complex used mostly by those looking to keep a low profile. We should be fine here, while we search for Bastila."
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"Why is everyone so obsessed with Bastila?" Venar asked. "I get she's a Jedi but there's thousands of Jedi. What makes her so special?"
"She is considered one of the most gifted Jedi Knights of the entire Order. From what I've heard, she possesses a rare ability the Jedi call Battle Meditation. It allows her to influence entire armies and battles. She can boost our troops will to fight and improve their focus, while also demoralizing the enemy army. Because of her, we've won countless battles against Sith forces. She may very well be the key to winning this war."
"How can any one Jedi be that powerful," Venar asked skeptically.
"I'm no Jedi," Carth responded, "I won't even pretend to understand their power but without them, the Republic would've been crushed long ago."
"It sounds to me like she can take care of herself then," Venar said getting to his feet, "we need to look out for ourselves. We need to get off this planet as soon as possible."
"Negative. Bastila might be a Jedi, but she's also... headstrong, stubborn, sometimes too sure of herself."
"Somehow that doesn't make we want to look for her anymore than I did a few seconds ago," Venar said sarcastically.
"Look, if she gets captured there's no telling how this war might play out! How many more systems will be lost to the enemy! How many more innocent civilians will be caught in the crossfire! There are lives at stake here soldier! You swore an oath to the Republic!"
"I have news for you, pal," Venar said as he turned and looked out the window at the bustling multi-level city outside, "I'm not a soldier. I'm a smuggler. I was hired by the Republic to scout out Sith occupied planets. I don't owe Bastila anything."
"Wait," Carth said in recognition, "you're the smuggler that was requested aboard?"
"What do you mean? I was told I would be assigned to the Endar Spire until I was given a destination to scout the next day."
"According to the reports I read," Carth said a suspicious tone creeping into his voice, "you were requested aboard the ship by Bastila personally."
"What? Why would a Jedi I've never heard of before specially request me?" Venar asked surprised.
"I don't know," Carth said, "that was above my clearance level. The Jedi made all sorts of odd requests when they came aboard. They practically took over the ship."
"I don't like this," Venar said suddenly pacing around the room nervously, "I need to get off this planet."
"There's something your not telling me isn't there?" Carth asked, "you look like you've seen a ghost."
"I... I don't know... when I was asleep, I had a dream, it was so real though. I saw a Jedi woman she was fighting this Sith Lord."
"Ok so you had a dream."
"No you don't understand," Venar said frustrated, "it was more like a vision than a dream. It was like I was there almost. This Jedi woman she fought this Sith guy, she called him Revan I think."
"Wait, you saw Bastila fighting Revan?"
"I don't know... maybe that was her I don't know I've never seen her. Is that important?"
"Bastila was the Jedi who defeated the Dark Lord Revan," Carth explained, "she lead a Jedi strike team that boarded his flagship. Revan has been dead several years, at least five years ago. He was Darth Malak's Sith master. Malak still rules the Sith Empire, turns out he is far more ruthless than Revan ever was. That's why it's so important we find Bastila. Besides if anyone can help you understand why you had a vision of her fighting Revan, it would be Bastila."
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"How are we supposed to find her on a planet controlled by the enemy anyways?" Venar asked still unsure.
"I doubt the Empire is looking for two low ranking soldiers," Carth said thoughtfully," we should be able to move about the planet relatively unnoticed, provided we keep a low profile. Bastila on the other hand has every trooper on this planet looking for her. She won't have the luxury of being able to walk the streets as we will."
"Alright, but as soon as we find her we're leaving," Venar said, "where do we start?"
"I suggest we stop by the local cantina," Carth said strapping a blaster pistol under his jacket, "see if anyone has heard any rumors that might useful. I also told those two scavengers I would meet them later in one of the lower city cantinas."
"Great, because I think I could use a drink."
The upper city cantina was packed with patrons, all humans. The only alien species were the scantily clad Twi'lek dancers that were performing an erotic dance on stage, and the Bith musicians playing a deep bass-heavy club song. There were two groups of customers it seemed: the Tarisian natives and nobles, and the off-worlders brought to Taris from different parts of the galaxy.
"I'll go watch the pazaak players see if I can overhear anything about any other escape pods found," said Carth.
"Great," Venar said, "I'm getting a drink. Have fun though."
Carth shook his head looking somewhat annoyed as he went off to mingle among the patrons. Venar took a seat at the bar and waited until the bartender came over, an older man with bags under his eyes.
"What'll you have?" the bartender asked.
"What's good here?" Venar replied.
"Might I suggest the Tarisian ale," came a female voice from his right. He turned to see a beautiful woman with dark hair pulled back in a bun sitting at the stool next to him. She had a thick core-worlds accent that he found to be quite attractive.
"Well in that case," Venar said with a sly smile, "I'll take a Tarisian ale." The bartender nodded and passed him a short glass filled halfway with some sort of bubbling pale blue liquid. He took a sip and immediately started coughing as the liquid burned in his throat.
"You're cute you know that," said the woman laughing. She then took a generous swig of her own ale.
"You're pretty cute yourself," Venar flirted back.
"Sarna," she said extending her hand for a handshake.
"Well, Sarna," he said as he took her hand in his, and rather than shaking it, gave the back of her hand a kiss, "it is a delight to meet you."
"Well aren't you a gentleman," she said, "honestly I'm surprised your talking to me at all, with the whole blockade of the planet and all the new restrictions we've imposed." It was just then he noticed the imperial dog tags that hung around her neck, that bore the insignia of the Sith Empire.
"Oh it's not so bad," he replied trying not to seem too surprised, "I mean, the Tarisians seem kind of stuck up but I can't complain too much."
"Oh so you're an off-worlder then? I would've thought you would've been even more upset about the occupation since all travel to and from the planet is restricted."
"Well uh, I mean it's not convenient but I try to make the best of things you know?"
"Exactly!" Sarna said a spark gleaming in her eye, "I mean I didn't ask to be assigned to this rock! It's not my fault that we conquered the planet! I don't get why everyone has to be so bitter with us. We bring an order and strength the Republic could never have."
"Sometimes it helps to blow off steam once in awhile," Venar said with a suggestive smile.
"You know," Sarna said scribbling something on a napkin and handing it to him, "I really like you. Tell you what, me and some of the other junior officers are having a party later after our shifts. Why don't you stop by? Maybe we can continue our conversation then? I have to get going now I have a shift at the military base but I hope I see you again... you know I never got your name."
"Rusk," Venar said.
"Well Rusk," Sarna said," stop by that address in four hours or so and maybe we can have some fun." With that she got up and made her way through the crowd towards the cantina exit.
Meanwhile, in orbit over the planet of Taris, Darth Malak looked out the bridge viewport of The Leviathan. His pale gray eyes, once a lively blue, seemed to be scanning the surface of the planet, as if looking for something tangible that he could find. Every moment that passed, his anger grew.
His tall and muscular build was quite intimidating to behold. The long black cape that hung down off of his right shoulder and the black battle skirts he wore were accentuated by a slim dark red suit. His bald head was adorned with four faded gray stripes that were tattooed onto his skin. They began at his forehead and arched to the back of his head. Most striking, though, was the silver metal casing around the lower half of his face, completely concealing his mouth. Scar tissue was just barely visible around the edges of the apparatus. The metal casing actually served as a voice box, pain dampener, and to hide the fact he was missing his jaw. That had been a gift from his former Sith Master. His pride swelled for a moment as he relished the memory of his Master's death.
"My lord, the latest report just came in from our spies on the surface," came a voice from behind him.
"Proceed, Admiral," Malak said without turning to regard the man. His deep voice had a metallic almost droid-like quality to it.
"All the escape pods have been accounted for," the Admiral said, "the Jedi's escape pod was empty. Though there were signs of a struggle outside her escape pod. Evidence suggests she may have been captured by one of the lower city swoop bike gangs."
"Admiral Karath," Darth Malak spoke slowly and menacingly, "every moment the Jedi evades us, is another moment she is still a threat to us. We managed to take them by surprise, only to let her escape. I want her brought before me before the next planetary cycle! Is that clear, Grand Admiral Karath?" Malak spoke the man's title almost as if was an insult.
"Yes, Lord Malak," the Admiral responded, "I will increase our efforts tenfold."
"You are dismissed, Admiral."
"Well we've got bad news," Carth said as he came over and sat in the stool next to Venar, "I overheard that the lower city has just been closed off by the Sith. Something about a gang war going on. Only Sith troopers or those with Sith authorization papers are allowed into the lower city."
"Huh..." Venar said as he stared down at his drink.
. "That's all you have to say?" Carth said frustrated," we're stuck on this rock and I'm the only one trying to get us off it while you flirting it up with the locals?!"
"Actually," Venar responded with a slight smile, "she was not a local, she was a Sith trooper enjoying some time off. Invited me to a party and everything."
"What?" Carth said in disbelief. "That's great we could-"
"-I know I know. Go to the party make nice and see if I can steal some authorization papers or a uniform. I already thought of it. Except your not coming you look too..."
"What's wrong with the way I look?"
"You look too much like a Republic Soldier," Venar said as he clasped Carth on the shoulder. He slowly strolled out of the cantina.
"Fine go party with your new Sith friends," Carth muttered to himself as he walked down the upper streets of Taris. He meandered among the shops and stores of the upper city, showing off lavish and obscenely priced items of a wide array in their display windows. There was no doubt about it. The upper city was for the rich most privileged citizens of Taris.
. Despite the Sith occupation, the streets were packed with people, mostly Tarisian nobles and their servants with a few off-worlders dispersed through the crowds. Carth could easily tell a Tarisian native from an off-worlder like himself. Their snobbish and prudish attitudes have them away even if their extravagant clothing didn't. Their heir of pride and arrogance was almost palpable. As if to prove his point, he passed by an old Tarisian man loudly shouting and preaching to passerby about the 'terrible scourge sweeping the planet'. Of course he wasn't talking about the Empire, no. He was referring to the many alien species that called the lower levels of Taris home. Of course the Tarisians would welcome the Sith, he thought. Bigotry thrived in the Empire.
Carth made his way into a small medical facility that seemed rather empty for a city of this size. It was a small office space with one clerk operating office equipment and some medical droids that aimlessly paced about the room. The shelves were lined with various medical supplies for sale, though the stock did seem somewhat depleted. With a hiss, a large door opened towards the back of the shop and an older dark skinned man in a lab coat walked out into the main room, the door sealing behind him.
"Greetings," the doctor said in a kind gentle tone, "I am Zelka Forn, I am the administrator of this facility. Is there something I can help you with today?"
"Your stores look almost empty Carth said," as the two men shook hands.
"Ah yes, regretfully, the Sith have confiscated most of my medical supplies for their troops and with the blockade of the planet, well I don't know when I will get more shipments in." The man looked wary as he was explaining, "of course I have nothing bad to say about the Sith. Glad their soldiers could use my supplies."
"I would think you would be upset about them ruining you're business," Carth said.
"Ah, well, you know it's not good to say bad things about those in power..."
"Right," Carth said, "also probably wouldn't be good to have the Sith coming back to look around, being that you're harboring Republic fugitives."
"What?! How did you- I mean there are no fugitives here! What are you a spy?" Zelka's voice got very hush as if he didn't want to be overheard.
"No," Carth explained, "on the contrary I'm a Republic soldier. I'm merely saying that you probably shouldn't be leaving a Republic soldier's dog tags lying around." Carth reached down and picked up a pair of dog tags that were left lying under one of the tables.
"Oh I uh, I see thank you," Zelka said hesitantly, "come with me. I want to show you something."
Carth followed Zelka back into the door he first emerged from. Inside was a large room with all sorts of medical equipment set up. Operating tables, kolto tanks, surgeon droids all were strategically set up throughout the room. In one of the far corners were several occupied kolto tanks. As they got closer, Carth saw that inside the kolto tanks were wounded Republic soldiers from the Endar Spire.
"These men were brought to me from the Under City," Zelka explained, "they crashed in escape pods and were severely wounded. I refuse to turn away someone in need even if it puts myself at risk."
"You have done a great thing , Zelka," Carth said with sincere gratitude," will they live?"
. "Regretfully, no. But the kolto tanks will take away the pain so they can live out their last days in comfort."
"Thank you so much. The Republic owes you a great amount. I need to know, though, was there a Republic officer brought to you named Bastila?"
"No I'm sorry I haven't treated anyone by that name. I did hear rumors that one of the swoop gangs captured a high ranking female Republic officer though."
"That must be her," Carth said, "thank you for everything you've done."
"Be careful in the Under City if you venture down there," Zelka warned, "it's a dangerous place where the hopeless are banished to live out a miserable existence. Not to mention the rakghouls. Vicious monsters that attack anything they see. Their bite contains a serious infection that will ultimately, turn you into a rakghoul yourself."
"Is there a cure?"
"No. I was close to perfecting one but the Sith confiscated my work."
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