Ok. I do have to admit, Taris hits differently after playing through KOTOR. There aren’t any surviving landmarks beyond the Endar Spire and the hospital, BUT I do feel the whole “I’ve been here before.”
Though I do have to agree with the assessment that it certainly took the Pub a long-ass time to realize that data and holos from the Endar Spire would be useful against the Sith, like 300 years later....
Trask Ulgo was an Alderaanian ensign serving aboard the Endar Spire during the Jedi Civil War. A knowledgeable and helpful man, Ulgo was a fine soldier, skilled with both melee and ranged weaponry. Ulgo was friendly and dedicated to the Republic.
Source: Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic (2003)
Aitahea was a poor liar, to herself more than anyone, so Erithon missing every surreptitious glance she gave him must surely be the Force at work. She was mortified. She was a diplomat – as she had been so keen to tell him the day before.
The sudden influx of emotion could not have captured Aitahea under any more dire conditions. Exhausted, stretched to the limit physically and mentally, and now damp and disgusting. No one could be expected to keep their composure under those kind of circumstances and around blue eyes like that, and she’d just noticed the dimples when he smiled and-
You are a Jedi, she berated herself silently.
With a long exhale, Aitahea settled by the small fire Erithon had started and took up her usual meditative pose, passively watching through lowered lashes. Erithon kicked out at something at the water’s edge, then moved to digging through his kit, finally retrieving his drowned datapad. He muttered a few strings of expletives in at least two languages besides Basic, then settled down opposite Aitahea, his back to both her and the fire. The damaged tech seemed to keep his attention for only a few minutes, and the Jedi kept her wits and awareness on their surroundings. Erithon glanced over his shoulder once then shrugged, keeping his own thoughts close and quiet. Eventually, the trooper lay back with his hands laced behind his head and - sure enough, his eyes slipped shut in moments.
Aitahea kept her eyes closed until she was certain he slept and only when his breathing evened out into the same rhythm as her own did she open them. She almost wished she hadn’t. The desire to reach out and run her fingers through his firelit hair was overwhelming. Almost.
Instead she settled her chin in her hands and her elbows on her knees and stared at him like a forlorn adolescent. She wished Yuon were here, well and whole with a piece of practical wisdom. She wished she knew how to face her own feelings. She wished that the thought “something like seeing you smile” hadn’t crept so tenderly into her thoughts and found a place to stay, unexpectedly pleasurable and not at all unwelcome.
She’d meant it when she said the Force drew them together. She believed in things like that, of course. Things like the Jedi Code, which now that she thought about it didn’t specifically mention what to do about meeting a memory who is both a formidable ally and impossible fantasy?
Coincidence and fate were just two sides of the same coin.
Her thoughts drifted back to memories of her final days on Coruscant, the dreadful hurry of being bustled from safehouse to safehouse. Leaving her family behind in the aftermath of all that terror had rendered her almost inconsolable, but when Master Satele had placed a hand on her cheek, she’d felt hope. She had found something. Satele hadn’t been there, not yet, but she had known something was out there. A safe place, a beautiful place, where Aitahea and the other Jedi could be hidden and protected.
Before the Sacking, the only home Aitahea had known was Coruscant. As lovely as Alderaan and all the other worlds she had visited were, none could begin to compare to her birthplace it seemed. But she’d felt a glow in the Force, a whispersong in her thoughts, beckoning through her meditations. She’d felt that there was a place she could heal. A place she could breathe.
Tython.
Aitahea hadn’t been sure what to expect when she was finally summoned to the homeworld of the Jedi, but nothing had ever seemed so right. Not even her years of training as an initiate had been able to keep her delight and enthusiasm contained. She’d raced off the shuttle ramp before it’d even touched down, so eager to feel her feet on the ground, practically floating. A peculiar tremble had raced through her body; where it had come from she hadn’t fully understood, but she’d almost felt as if Tython itself were welcoming her. She was home.
It had proved truer than she could have ever expected. Even when Master Syo and Master Yuon pitched her swiftly and unceremoniously into the field, she’d recognized the hum of the planet through her. She’d never felt so welcome.
The only other place she’d felt that was on Brentaal.
Aitahea carried that sense of place with her now, system to system, star to star. She found it in Master Syo’s gentle confidence, Master Yuon’s unexpected friendship, and now Erithon’s candor and determination. Yet at the same time, he unbalanced her in the most perplexing way, drawing out feelings she barely understood, full of unfamiliar paths like the twisted corridors of the Endar Spire.
With no small measure of guilt, Aitahea straightened and refolded her hands in her lap. Now was not the time. Master Tykan needed her, as did Yuon, and the Jedi Council. She was responsible for so much, and there was no time for this kind of indulgence. Would the dreams stop? How many months before her memory of him was once again merely sunlight and blue eyes?
Aitahea let her own eyes drift closed again, seeking true meditation and the current of the Force. She brushed against Erithon’s slumbering Force presence and even through the barrier of sleep felt a pang of longing. Observing guardedly, she was unsurprised to find it twined firmly around them both. Oh. Oh my.
“No emotion indeed,” she muttered sullenly and pulled her arms around herself. It was going to be a long night.
“Commander Viqui?”
The harried woman turned to glance over the bedraggled and grimy pair. “If you have any questions about military operations-” She paused, eyes flickering first to the Havoc insignia on Erithon’s armor, then to the lightsaber secured on Aitahea’s hip. “Wait – are you the ones who recovered the Endar Spire data?”
Aitahea smiled, offering the spike to Viqui in an upturned palm. “Everything from the primary computers is here.”
Viqui took it gingerly, eyes wide with gratitude. “The data from the Endar Spire will be invaluable to the Republic’s war efforts. You may very well have changed the course of galactic history.”
“The bulk of the work was done by the research team, sir,” Erithon said with a nod toward the data spike, but his eyes were on Aitahea. She returned his gaze with a glowing smile, and Erithon sucked in a quick breath to add: “We just helped with clean up.”
The taut silence lasted just a fraction too long, and Commander Viqui politely cleared her throat as she glanced between them. “Lieutenant Karlsu tells me there’s close surveillance footage of the Imperial warships.”
Aitahea’s attention darted away from Erithon, her cheeks growing suddenly rosy beneath the grime of their journey, yet she smoothly answered the commander with a diplomatic request of her own. “The researchers will best be able to analyze the data, but I hope the Republic will employ the skills of the Jedi Council as well.” Erithon grinned at her quick recovery, failing to conceal a chuckle himself.
“The data has already been forwarded to intelligence headquarters on Coruscant. I expect they will pass on the information to your Order soon.” The commander nodded steadily to each of them. “For so long Taris has been beyond our reach. That we are here now speaks well for our chances in this war.”
“The Jedi way is to serve.” Aitahea offered her signature graceful bow, and when she lifted her gaze, she saw a hope in Commander Viqui’s eyes that hadn’t been there before.
“I don’t have to tell either of you to have faith in the Republic and her people,” Viqui said, closing her hand protectively around the dataspike. “Thank you again for your invaluable service.”
“For the Republic,” Erithon said, his fervent undertone catching Aitahea’s attention. She watched with interest as Erithon snapped an enthusiastic salute.
“The Republic is honored to have you both, Lieutenant, Master Jedi,” Viqui replied solemnly before returning Erithon’s gesture. “May the Force be with you.”
“I’ll let you know when the research team gets back safely.” Erithon offered, nodding back toward the command center. “I’ve met a few folks who will hopefully be able to keep us updated on their status. I’ll make sure you get the messages, too.” He waved a once-more functioning datapad toward her. “If you want, I mean.”
“Thank you, I’d be grateful.” Aitahea drifted to a stop in the shadow of the ruins, pulling off her gloves before taking the pad from Erithon’s hands. “My own mission needs my attention but knowing that our allies are safe will be reassuring.”
“Same here,” Erithon agreed, leaning against a pillar while the Jedi tapped her contact information into his datapad. He did plan on keeping her updated on the research team, like he’d said, but it probably didn’t hurt to have a contact in the Jedi Order either, and all the sudden he was thinking of how he’d start off his first message to her…
“Lieutenant?”
Erithon blinked and straightened before running a hand through his hair. “Sorry, just thinking.” He grinned boyishly. “Hopefully next time we'll do something better than slog around a poisonous swamp.”
A breath of soft laughter. “I’ll hold you to that.” Aitahea held his datapad out to him, and Erithon accepted the bedraggled instrument with a fading smile.
“Hey, all that bantha poodoo I told you earlier about sacrifice?”
“I would be reluctant to call your advice anything like that,” Aitahea replied with a gentle nod, “but yes?”
“That being said,” he sucked in a breath, “knowing someone willing to take a risk for our soldiers is out there… It’s good to know.”
“While we’re discussing things previously said, you mentioned that command often sees soldiers as expendable.”
“Yeah, sometimes.”
The Jedi stepped closer and reached for one of his hands. He let her take it, unexpectedly breathless as she pressed his fingers between her palms, reverent and intimate. “To me, Lieutenant, no one is expendable. That slicer could never be replaced, and neither could you.”
“Sounds like Jedi stuff.” He pretended to scoff but gave her a sidelong smile, clearly pleased with her words.
“Perhaps.” Aitahea’s fingertips seemed to linger on his skin as she drew away, and when she looked at him once more her eyes were bright. “May the Force be with you, Erithon,” she murmured, soft but clear, before sweeping her hood up and turning away all in one effortless motion.
Erithon put his free hand over the other, where a trace of her warmth remained, watching as she drifted away. The trooper marveled, realizing with a swell of pleasure that the last thing she’d said was his name. For a fraction of a second he faltered, about to dash after her, squinting to keep the hem of her robe in view. He didn’t even notice Jorgan until the Cathar was practically at his shoulder.
“Lieutenant?”
“Jorgan, hey,” he responded in a slow drawl, nodding slowly toward the sergeant while trying to keep his eyes on Aitahea. Jorgan gave a curt salute and nodded in the direction of Erithon’s scrutiny.
“New friend?”
Erithon watched the last wisp of her robe disappear and heaved a noticeable sigh. “Something better, maybe,” he mused before clapping Jorgan on the shoulder. His squadmate gave him a bemused glance, and Erithon pulled his hand back hurriedly.
Jorgan either failed or refused to hide his affronted expression. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“With all due respect… you need a shower, sir.”
Um, thank y’all for being on this wild ass ride and sticking with these dorks. I love this fandom, I love tumblr, I love everyone in this Chilis. Very important thank yous to @taraum being here through this ENTIRE nonsense since basically before day one; you are a blessing.
My communicator buzzes again. Better… better check that out. Maybe it’s Trask, maybe he survived. Maybe I really should just stop hoping for shit.
“This is Carth Onasi calling Rena Visz on your personal communicator.” Oh, neat, it’s the cute guy again, he’s still alive. “I'm tracking your position through the Endar Spire's life support systems.
“Bastila's escape pod is away – you're the last surviving crew member of the Endar Spire! I can't wait for you much longer; you have to get to the escape pods!” Awesome, he’s waiting for me. I have that to look forward to, at least. Hopefully he won’t die before I get there.
Not sure if I should be concerned that that’s my first thought, or because there I go hoping for things again.
One Sith trooper stands in the way of the next door. Not a problem, after all the troopers I’ve cut down already. He doesn’t take long, but he does cut me up pretty bad. Time for another medkit.
The next room is empty, thank God. I take this moment of peace to sift through the boxes and footlockers here before going to the next door. But then my communicator goes off again. “Be careful!” Carth says, “There's a whole squad of Sith Troopers on the other side of that door! You need to find some way to thin their numbers.”
“Can’t I just use my sword?” I ask, but Carth acts like I didn’t say anything.
“You could reprogram the damaged assault droid to help you, if you have enough repair parts. Or you could use computer spikes to slice into the terminal and use the Endar Spire's security systems against the Sith.”
Much as I love to repair droids, I think I want to know what I’m up against first. I slice the computer terminal, to look at the camera mounted in the next room.
Wow, five Sith, that’s a lot for me and a droid. Maybe if I just… overload the power conduit in there… take them all out… I can’t believe I’m seriously considering electrocuting five people, but I guess it’s either them or me. I have to get to the escape pods. Trask… Trask wanted me to.
Okay, five computer spikes. I can do this. I can do this, I can… “[SUCCESS] POWER CONDUIT OVERLOAD
“SWITCHING TO SECURITY CAMERA”
I… I watch them all get electrocuted. That’s so freaking gruesome, why did the computer think I wanted to see that? Stop, stop, stop!!
“LOGGING OUT”
I’ll have to come to terms with that, too, I guess. But later. For now, I want to live. I go into the next room, and search through their corpses, trying not to think about how I killed them, watched them die without even using my swords. Then one more door, and the escape pods right behind them. I’m ready to leave this ship. I’ve been ready to leave this ship. So I open the door.
And there he is. Carth the cute guy. He’s a lot cuter in person. “You made it just in time!” he says. His voice is so comforting, I could listen to it forever. “There's only one active escape pod left. Come on, we can hide out on the planet below!”
“Wait,” I say, feeling a little stupid for waiting, but, I mean, sure he’s cute but I have literally never met him before. Not in person, and people are a lot different in person than they are over comms. “How do I know I can trust you?”
“I'm a soldier with the Republic, like you.” I’m not exactly a soldier, buddy, but whatever. “We’re the last two crew members left on the Endar Spire. Bastila's escape pod's already gone, so there's no reason for us to stick around here and get shot by the Sith. Now come on – there'll be time for questions later!”
“I can’t argue with you, there,” I say, and I climb into the escape pod. Carth climbs in after me. It’s a little… tight. What I wouldn’t give to be able to retract my sword like the Jedi can retract their lightsabers. Then the escape pod gets ejected. Ouch - that’s a rough ride! I think I… hit my head...
Part 4 of Many, Many Reasons Why The Endar Spire Is A Terrible Place To Work
Relatively short update, but I just wanted it up so I could start afresh on a new part and not be as stuck. 4 To hide her growing panic, Lisa focused on what she could hear on the other side of the door. Blasterfire, obviously, at least 6 different guns going. There was a slightly different pitch to the sound of the bolt being fired from different makes of guns, and Lisa could hear about equal numbers of basic Sith rifles, and the make that the republic handed out to their grunts. There was also the sounds of swords clashing, but luckily, there was no distinctive hum of a lightsaber. Given the republic protocol for a Lightsaber- wielder was "run and let the Jedi handle it", Lisa didn't fancy her chances, no matter what the adrenaline-fueled panic part of her brain said. The yelling was all male, some open to the air and others filtered through Sith helmets. The constant rumbling of The Endar Spire’s engines obscured some of the details, as did the deep thuds of turbo-lasers hitting the unshielded hull. There was a gurgling cry as someone (Republic, by the lack of filtering on the voice) took a hit in the lung- a fairly quick death at least- followed by a similar yell from a Sith. Hopefully sides would wipe each other out and Lisa could get Trask through without exposing him to another fight. She would hope for the Republic soldiers to win, but Lisa had a horrible feeling that she would be accused of desertion if they found her wandering the halls alone with a brain-damaged information analyst. Speaking of Trask, Lisa turned her head to find him centimetres away from her face, staring with rapt contemplation at the crack between the double doors. At least he was calm, Lisa didn’t think she could cope with another berserker rampage through the ship corridors. She coaxed him gently away from the door and sat him down on a locker. If Lisa got into a fight, she didn’t want him stumbling into the path of a blade or rifle. Lisa pressed her ear back to crack of the door just in time to hear the deep thu-umb of a grenade going off. The sound of blaster fine petered off, and the clanking of boots on the corridor grew louder as the owners of the boots grew closer. A hissing, tinny voice came from the helmet of the man Lisa had beheaded, asking why there hadn't been any reinforcements. Lisa considered putting the helmet on and attempting to bluff her way into being left alone, but the man the helmet-and head- had belonged to was broad shouldered and tall. There was no way she could pitch her voice that low. Instead Lisa prepared for a fight. Please tell me what you think. I am desperate to know if it is ok or not.
