Let's Play of 2003 Bioware game "Knights of the Old Republic" with Restored Content for anyone who is interested in playing along. Not much for restored stuff in this video, but it will be showing up throughout. Spoiler-free for people who have not played the first game themselves. This is meant as an introduction, walk-through, and general enjoyment of RPG aspect.
TWISTED MORALITY (PART III of ONLY LIGHT CAN CAST SHADOW) CHAPTER THREE: SEEKING SHELTER FROM THE STORM (PREVIEW SECTION 8 OF 16)
(AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is a preview section from an incomplete Chapter. You can read everything up to this point on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16538378/chapters/52449547 )
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CARTH ONASI
The Taris Upper City Cantina was a rather large and bustling place, yet with a certain amount of sophistication to it when compared to your average, every-day cantina. There were members clearly of the Tarisian noble class hanging about, and a private lounge just for patrons of this status. There was a high stakes pazaak table near the entrance that Carth and Gwen passed on their way to the central bar. The two took a seat and ordered.
It had been a bit unnerving coming there. After all, they’d passed several Sith Troopers patrolling the streets, and one had even been standing guard posted at the front entrance of the cantina. It would be impossible for them to avoid the Sith entirely on this planet. They would just have to try to do what they could to keep their low profile until they could find Bastila and secure passage off of this Sith-controlled planet.
Carth took a sip of the Tarisian ale he’d ordered when the bartender brought it to him. A wave of expressions streamed over his face upon the initial entry on the palate, and he finished his first sip gritting his teeth. It was far stronger than he’d expected. He’d not had time to try the stuff last time he was on Taris. After all, it was during the previous war, and the Republic forces had only just recaptured the planet from Mandalorian control. As he was fleet, he wasn’t ever groundside for very long. Most of that work had been led by the Jedi.
He shook his head and took another sip at that thought. It was ironic, really. Once upon a time, the Jedi Revan’s forces had taken back Taris from the Mandalorians and saved the planet. And now, the very Jedi who had aided them before had conquered the planet once more. Only this time, it was in the name of the Sith. And they hadn’t really ‘conquered,’ no…. The Tarisian upper class had never forgotten Revan’s aid in the Mandalorian Wars, and when Revan and Malak had returned to conquer the Republic, the nobles of Taris had submitted willingly. Now, it was quite clear from what he’d seen so far that the majority of Taris’ citizens didn’t agree with the decision, but the class system of Taris had created a society in which the few voices of the rich outweigh the voices of the masses.
He glanced over at Gwen, who was seated on the stool beside him at the bar with her head propped on her up by her hand with an elbow on the counter, while the fingers of her opposite hand tapped impatiently in sequence as she waited on her food. There was a glass of some sort of nectar in front of her. Carth had discouraged his companion from stronger beverages, given the fact that she was still recovering, and had eventually succeeded in having her agree despite her initial reluctance.
He was enjoying his ale and trying to block out the tapping when he suddenly heard Gwen’s voice. “So is now a better time to get to know a little more about you, Carth?”
He set his drink down and turned more directly toward her this time. Her finger tapping had stopped and her brows raised as she looked him dead in the eye with some degree of expectancy which told Carth she wasn’t going to let him ignore her request. He sighed a little before responding to her.
“Well, I've been a star-pilot for the Republic for years. I've seen more than my share of wars… I fought in the Mandalorian Wars before all this started. But with all that, I've never experienced anything like the slaughter these Sith animals can unleash. Not even the Mandalorians were that senseless.” Carth swallowed. He’d seen far too many images that haunted his mind still from his experiences in the war. Avoiding discussion let him push them back but that wasn’t really an option in the current situation. He couldn’t fault Gwen for wanting to know a little about him. After all, it was just the two of them stuck there until they could locate Bastila. This meant, however, that he’d need to tread his own memories with a degree of caution. He continued. “My home world was one of the first planets to fall to Malak's fleet. The Sith bombed it into submission, and there wasn't a damned thing our Republic forces could do to stop them!”
“Calm down. I was just asking. Geesh…”
He blinked a moment, then realized his hand was clenched into a fist so tightly that his knuckles had begun to go white. He relaxed his hand, flexing his fingers a little in retraction. “You're the one who wanted to know more about me,” he said, attempting to keep a cool air about him. “Well this is it, this is what I am. I'm just a soldier; I go where the fleet Admirals tell me to. I follow my orders and I do my duty.”
“Yeah, well you're talking like it's your fault about the war and your planet. Like you failed somehow….”
“It shouldn't be my fault. I did everything I could… I followed my orders and did my duty. That shouldn't mean I failed them! I didn't!” His voice was betraying him. It had grown more seeped with emotions. He could still see the glow of embers that charred the surface of Telos after the Sith attack. The dead and dying were all around, friends and loved ones among them. Innocents dying there in the streets. He could still hear their voices, their screams, their cries for help…
‘Someone get a medic over here now! Please! She’s still alive! A medic! It’s not too late to save her. It’s not too late…’
“Hey, why are you getting so mad at me? It's not like this was my fault!”
Gwen’s voice brought him back away from Telos’ surface and to that posh little Tarisian cantina where they were seated. Her good seemed to have arrived while he had been talking, but she’d not started eating yet. Instead, she was looking at him with what appeared to be concern.
“I know that,” I know that he said, hoping to dissuade any impressions he might have given of blaming her for what was, but shouldn’t have been, his own failure. “I'm not angry at you… don't think that. I…. I just…” He let out a frustrated sigh. “ I'm sorry. I'm not making much sense, am I?” He shook his head. “ Look, you probably mean well with your questions. I'm just not accustomed to talking about my past very much. At all, actually. I'm more used to taking action… keeping my mind focused on the business at hand. So let's just do that. If you have more questions, ask them later.”
“Right,” Gwen said, turning her attention instead to her meal. Carth picked up his mug again and took another sip of ale, desperately trying to push aside the memories that threatened to spring forth through his own emotional blocks. Now wasn’t the time to think of Telos. He had to focus on their mission to find Bastila so that the Sith could be stopped and an end could be brought to this war. Failure wasn’t an option this time. He had to go through with this, if it was the last thing he did….
“I'm sorry, Carth…”
He paused, but he did not look at his companion as she spoke. He was in no mood for such.
“....It must have been a very painful experience for you,” Gwen finished saying.
“Yeah, well, I’ve just made it a point to not let that sort of thing happen again,” Carth said. He debated, for a brief moment, chugging the rest of his ale, but decided against such. After all, if he finished too soon, he’d have nothing to do while his companion ate, and might get lassoed back into another conversation. Additionally, with how strong Tarisian ale was, he wasn’t certain it would be the smartest move for him to be able to remain at optimum functionality during their first outing on Taris. They needed information on those crashed escape pods still, and the cantina, even with the number of patrons it had seemed blissfully free of Sith presence inside of its doors. Here, it would likely be relatively safe for them to conduct their questioning of the locals on the matter.
Carth paced himself with the ale until he saw Gwen was close to finishing her meal, and then signaled the waiter to bring them their checks. Once they had paid, Carth rose from the barstool where he had been seated and stretched a little. “Well, I guess it’s back to business,” he said. “Feeling better now?” he asked.
Gwen nodded, rising also. “Much,” she replied. “Sorry if I came off a bit… ungrateful.”
Carth had to hold back a snort, but apparently his thoughts had still manifested themselves at least partially in his facial expressions, because his companion shot him a leer all the same. He coughed in an attempt to excuse himself, which only caused her to roll her eyes. “N-no,” Carth insisted with a chuckle, putting his hands up to indicate he meant no offense. “Not ungrateful… I suppose I’d be a bit grumpy first waking up out of a three-day near coma too…”
He looked at her, plastering on an uneasy smile, but her expression remained hard and relatively unchanging. She held his eyes, staring at him for a moment before her lips twisted into a suppressed smile and she snorted back a laugh of her own. While it did male Carth feel much more at ease, he couldn’t help but to wonder what was going on in that head of hers. He still wasn’t fully convinced of the physician Zelka’s assessment of her.
He contemplated commenting on her odd behavior before a commotion caught both of their attentions as a large number of patrons began flocking toward the viewscreens lining the walls of the cantina.
“Hurry!” they heard someone say. “The match is about to start.”
“What’s the point?” came another patron’s voice. “It’s only Gerlon and Duncan again.
Curiosity about the commotion for the upcoming ‘match’ drew both Carth and Gwen to join the other patrons watching the viewscreen in the cantina.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” came an announcer’s voice. “I draw your attention to the dueling ring. Here, two combatants will battle for your viewing and gambling enjoyment. Now, I hope all your bets are down, because we're ready to roll! In this corner, I give you... Gerlon Two-Fingers! And over here, looking to climb the ranks yet again is the ever persistent Deadeye Duncan!”
On the view screen, there were two men standing on opposite ends of a large circular arena. When the camera zoomed in on the combatants, the younger of the two appeared to be missing fingers on his right hand (Carth could only assume that this was ‘Gerlon Two-Fingers’) and the other a bit older, as his hair was greying. Reason would venture to assume that the older man was the one whom the announcer had referred to as ‘Deadeye Duncan.’ Both men were armed with blasters, hands at rest, waiting for the signal for the dual to begin.
A sound flared, signaling for the duel to begin. However, it came so suddenly that it seemed to startle ‘Deadeye’ enough that he dropped his blaster. As he reached down to pick it up, ‘Two-Fingers’ was already firing and hit him, causing Deadeye to fall. And just like that, as suddenly as the match had started, it was all over.
The announcer’s voice sounded again. “And, to nobody's great surprise, Deadeye is down again. Don't worry, folks – he's just unconscious. As usual. Our medics will have him up and about in a bit. Well, that was quick, wasn't it? So I give you the winner... Gerlon Two-Fingers!”
People had already begun clearing from the viewscreen area before the announcer had even begun his concluding statements. It seemed from the crowd’s reactions that the outcome was already expected to turn out the way it had.
Carth reached to touch Gwen’s arm to indicate they should start their rounds of questioning, but stopped short. He recalled her reaction to when he’d done similar during their visit to the clinic, and thought perhaps he’d better not. Instead, he called her name. “Gwen? Gwen, we should get going. We have a lot to do still.”
Gwen, who had seemed to be wrapped up in watching the medics as they removed Deadeye Duncan from the arena, turned to look at him. “Hmm? Oh…. I guess you’re right. Where do you think we should start? Won’t it sound suspicious if we just go around asking anyone about the escape pods?”
She did make an excellent point. Sith presence or not, they would need to be cautious. After all, it would be foolish to assume that all Tarisian’s loyalies lied with the Republic. He’s learned that the hard way….
“We keep it casual,” Carth said decisively. “If anyone asks, we’re spacers who got stuck by the planetary quarantine after we stopped for supplies.”
Gwen nodded in affirmation and stepped away from the viewscreen, headed toward the music lounge. There were several people sitting and standing, listening to the Bith band play and watching the Twi’lek dancers. They were some of the few positions in the upper city where alien species were readily accepted. In this particular case, it was because of their species’ reputations in the performing arts. While they were acceptable as entertainers to the upper city citizens, it was understood by all parties that the respect for them ended there, sad as it was.
"Well, hello there!” the pair heard upon stepping through the entry to the music room. “I see from your exotic appearance that you are not from Taris originally. All me to introduce myself – my name is Jergan.” The man--Jergan--was seemingly directing his introduction toward Gwen.
The woman flashed a smile, moving forward, which admittedly confused Carth. He’d not known her for very long, but it seemed a bit out of character compared to what he had come to know of her. “Pleased to meet you. My name's Gwen.” Was she flirting with him? It hardly seemed like the time… though they did need information. Perhaps this was just the woman’s way of being ‘subtle’ with her questioning.
“What do you think of our local music?” Jergen asked. “The band is quite good, wouldn't you agree? They're on the verge of intergalactic stardom, you know.”
“It's different, but I like it,” Gwen said.
“Obviously you have an ear for music,” he continued in an approving tone. “Mark my words, they'll be famous soon enough. They were about to go on tour before this Sith quarantine stranded them here. Would you like to meet the band after the show? Maybe have a brief brush with fame before they become intergalactic superstars? I can arrange it, you know.”
Gwen raised her eyebrows as her expression shifted to one of mild surprise. “Oh really? And just how will you arrange that?”
“I have a sort of standing arrangement with one of the Rodian bodyguards backstage. For the small sum of twenty credits he'll let me set up a meeting with you and the band.”
Gwen snorted, trying to hold back a laugh. “I think I’ll pass, thanks.”
“Are you certain? This is a once in a lifetime opportunity – meet the legends before they were famous. All it will cost you is a small handful of credits.”
The woman folded her arms. “Sounds like you're running a scam to me.”
“You sting me with your words!” Jergen said, feigning hurt. “I merely thought I could offer you the rare opportunity to meet a celebrity before they were famous. But I see you're not interested. That's too bad. They really are charming fellows. Very well, then – I hope you enjoy the music. If you change your mind come speak with me again.”
Gwen rolled her eyes and began to walk away, at which point, Carth thought it might be better to try to continue the conversation himself. After all, they’d not really gotten any useful information from him as of yet, and this man might still know something useful to them.
“Excuse me,” Carth said attempting to address Jergen himself, but he didn’t get very far before the other man waved in a dismissive gesture.
“Look, no hard feelings, my good man, but I can't really talk with you right now,” Jergen said, lowering his voice, presumably so no one else in the music room would overhear. “It's difficult enough to draw the interest of the ladies in this establishment as it is. Surely you understand what I'm talking about. I'd guess you've experienced many lonely evenings... something I'm hoping to avoid tonight.” He gestured a bit with his head toward Gwen. “Good luck.”
Before Carth had the chance to protest the insinuation, Jergen had started moving. It seemed he had spotted his next prospect across the room. The pilot shook his head at the comments and went to go find Gwen again, who was already mid-conversation with another male patron.
“Someone sure makes fast friends,” he muttered under his breath as he moved to stand behind her.
“It's good to talk about this stuff – It gets pretty lonely up at the military base,” Carth overheard the man she was talking to say. “I have to get going soon – I've got a shift at the base... but some of us junior Sith officers are having a party tonight to blow off some steam. I'd really like to see you again. Why don't you drop by the party? It’s at the apartment complex next door to the base, apartment A-06.”
“Oh, I dunno,” Gwen said coyly. “Not sure I have anything suited to wear back on the ship. I wasn’t exactly planning on going to any parties during our supplies stop…”
“You know, just because I'm with the Sith doesn't mean I don't know how to have a good time. You'll enjoy yourself. I promise. Don't be late. We're starting right after our shifts end. And don’t worry. Most of us won't even be going back to the base to lock up our uniforms, so I’m sure you’ll look fine. I look forward to seeing you there.”
Carth cleared his throat once the man had left. “An off-duty Sith, Gwen? Really?”
“What? He seemed nice enough…” she replied dismissively.
“You can’t be serious. We’re trying to keep a low profile here. You start asking the Sith about the crashed escape pods and somebody is gonna start getting suspicious.”
“Well, I didn’t ask him about the escape pods once I knew he was Sith. I’m stupid, Carth…”
“Well then what’s this with a party now? We’re not on vacation…”
“I may have just found us a way into the Under City… or did you forget that the planet is under quarantine and the only people allowed to travel to the lower levels are the Sith? Just trust me on this.”
Carth scoffed at the notion.Trust coercing with an enemy junior officer on an enemy-controlled planet? ‘Brilliant,’ he thought sarcastically. “Well forgive me if I’m sceptical at believing that you partying with the enemy is going to help our situation any.”
“Then you’re welcome to stay back at the apartment,” she said flatly as she rolled her eyes. “Me? I’ve got plans for tonight…”
TWISTED MORALITY (PART III OF “ONLY LIGHT CAN CAST SHADOW”), CHAPTER ONE: A NEW MISSION OF THE JEDI
Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16538378/chapters/39939015
Bastila Shan paced nervously outside of the medical bay of the Jedi Enclave on Dantooine. Much rode on the outcome of the patient within its walls. The situation had been discussed with Coruscant and the High Council there. All parties had determined that the procedure must be done in the strictest of secrecy. The Republic could not discover what they were doing, nor could any within the Order outside of the Council Members and those who had been involved directly in the event. Bastila had been one of the latter.
The success of the operation depended largely upon its secrecy. It was for this reason that the patient had been brought to Dantooine rather than Coruscant. On Coruscant, there were too many eyes. People would begin to question. Somebody would be bound to find out. Even here the risk existed, but it was far less great.
The procedure was a risky one even when removing the factor of everything that was at stake if it should fail. The process would take at least a month total, possibly longer before completion, and it was important for Bastila to remain there while it happened. After all, her relationship to the patient was one of the things they needed to be mindful of while operating. For the moment, the patient was still unconscious. She could sense that much.
The moral grounds regarding the procedure itself were questionable. The potential existed to completely destroy the patient should it go wrong. While this may have been a preferable outcome to those who were not allowed to know of its occurrence, it was not the one that they hoped for. It was why they needed to ensure the patient lived, even if it meant the extended length of time it would take. The fate of the Republic and of the galaxy depended upon it.
Every so often, they would call Bastila into the room to allow her to visit and to test the results so far. They needed her to ensure that the most important information regarding the patient in question remained intact.
Suddenly Bastila felt a sharp disturbance in the Force. The patient was stirring. Bastila could sense a whirlwind of emotions flow from them. Fear, confusion, pain, betrayal… but mostly fear. Bastila found this somewhat difficult to comprehend. Fear was the last thing she would have expected given the patient’s reputation. And yet, such a primal, almost animalistic instinct had taken over. They were afraid.
A sharp scream of agony came from within the medical bay, and Bastila was forced to brace herself against the wall, clutching the side of her head as she braced herself against the patient’s suffering. It was so much that it was overwhelming. She’d never felt anything so strongly in the Force before in her entire life… and yet this was only a taste of what was surely yet to come were the operation successful.
As suddenly as it had started, the disturbance stopped. The patient had been sedated again and was once more unconscious. Bastila panted, catching her breath. She wasn’t certain that she was ready to take on this mission, but she didn’t have any choice in the matter. After all, she was the only one who could accept it under the given circumstances. While it was unintentional at the time, she’d bound herself to the fate of the human who laid on the operation table now. It was because of this that the Council was willing to even attempt the operation at all. Otherwise, the more likely situation would have been stasis.
It was unclear to Bastila, however, whether the procedure they now attempted was any more merciful than letting the patient live out the rest of their days and die within a stasis pod. The longer the procedure lasted, the more questions she found herself asking… questions which she regretted having. The Council was far wiser and more experienced than her. What authority did she have to even consider questioning their judgement? Even so, it troubled her, so much so that she felt she needed to address them regarding the patient. After all, it was her own future which was in question here as well…
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The Council Chamber in the Dantooine Enclave was far different than the High Council Chamber located in the Temple on Coruscant. It was far smaller and less grandiose. Where Coruscant’s Council Chamber stood gleaming in white, Dantooine’s was more earthen. Grays and browns made up the floor and the walls, and a great Blba tree grew inside, stretching its branches over the Chamber Seats. A circular skylight was in the center of the ceiling allowing the natural light of Dantooine’s sun to shine inside. Directly adjacent to the Council Chamber was the Padawan training room, so the Council could easily watch over the developing Jedi’s progress.
Padawan Bastila Shan entered the Chamber approaching the four Jedi Masters within who comprised the Dantooine Council: Master Vrook Lamar (who also sat on the High Council and served as Dantooine’s liaison on Coruscant), Master Vandar Tokare, Master Zhar Lestin, and Master Dorak (the chronicler of the Enclave). Two months of the procedure had already passed and Bastila had begun to worry about the patient. The thoughts she could sense from the patient had grown more vague, distant… and it was this she wished to speak to them about.
“Troubled you are, Padawan Bastila,” Master Vandar commented as she approached. “A question you have for the Council?”
“Yes, Masters,” Bastila said, kneeling before them. “I am concerned about the operations regarding the prisoner. I can sense that their consciousness is… failing.”
“We must ensure any possible threat from the prisoner is dead, Padawan Bastila,” Master Vrook replied to her. “You know better than anyone the risks we all face if too much remains of what once was…”
“Yes, but how much longer must this go on? I can feel the patient’s suffering…”
“You are not the only one with reservations,” spoke the Twi’lek, Master Zhar, “however, we all agree that there is no alternative in this. This is our only hope of being able to stop the war… You’ve done a great thing, Padawan Bastila Shan. Without you, there would only be death… But you have given them a second chance. If the Republic knew that they lived, do you think they would have offered so much?”
“Consider this, Padawan Bastila,” Master Dorak began, “You have not only saved their life, but also countless others if this operation should succeed. You need not pity their fate. This is for the better.”
“Besides,” Master Vrook interjected, “This one was always quite stubborn and resilient. I don’t think you need to worry as to whether their physical body will survive or not. It is because of this resilience that the procedure has taken so long. We’ve asked that extra… precautions be made.”
“What sort of precautions?” Bastila asked. “Is the procedure itself not enough?”
“A severance to the Force may be necessary,” Master Dorak explained. “It’s a severe punishment that hasn’t been used since Ulic Qel-Droma, but… the Council has agreed that it is for the better. The patient’s command of the Force is not necessity in order for the rest of the mission to work. That is why we need you, Miss Shan. You are to be the vessel of the Force necessary to filter the information we need to save the Republic.”
“As it was stated before,” said Master Vrook, “we cannot risk any part of what the patient once was to remain alive other than the information we need. They are too much of a risk not only to the Jedi Order but to the entire galaxy.”
“Go, Padawan Bastila,” Master Vandar said to her. “Unnecessary your worry is. Vital it is now that you focus on preparing for your mission. The time is almost at hand.”
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After three months, the process had been completed. Bastila was asked to enter the medical bay where the patient was being held one last time. As she entered, several of the Jedi specialists involved were clearing the room of any evidence of the procedure having taken place. The head specialist, a Mirialan by the name of Tiva Koq, greeted her.
“Padawan Bastila,” Tiva said, greeting the other female in a polite bowing gesture. “I trust you are here to see the final results of the patient?”
“I am, Bastila said, nodding and stepping forward toward the operation table. The patient was unconscious. It seemed as though they had been given heavy sedatives to avoid coming to too soon. If that happened, then they would need to begin a portion of the process over again. Bastila looked down at the woman laying on the operation table. She seemed so normal. So peaceful. There wasn’t a trace left of the one she had faced aboard the Vindicator.
“Here,” the Mirialan said, handing Bastila a datapad. “We’ve programmed the patient with a new identity. We’ve chosen to keep parallels to the patient’s original background wherever safely possible. The mind is better able to grasp and to retain the new memories when there is less conflict with the ones that were extracted. We’ve gone ahead and put together service records for the patient also, so they might accompany you in your mission without question from the Republic fleet.”
Bastila Shan scrolled through the information regarding the records of the patient’s new identity.
NAME: GWENEVERE DAKAAL
SPECIES IDENTIFIER: HUMAN FEMALE
AGE: 34 YEARS, CORUSCANTI STANDARD
PLANET OF ORIGIN: DERALIA, DERALIA SYSTEM, TAMMUZ SECTOR, GRID T-15
“So many?” Bastila said frowning and looking up from the datapad.
“Yes,” the Mirialan. “The patient appears to have had quite a love for languages and was rather adept at them, no doubt partially due to her command of the Force. We were able to keep nearly all of the language-dominant areas of the cerebral cortex intact. There were some languages the patient understands that we were unable to identify even within our database, so they have been left off of the records accordingly. No doubt it will come in handy convincing the fleet of her recruitment and transfer, yes?”
“I suppose,” Bastila said. The list went on with at least a hundred different alien languages, but she’d stopped reading when she had reached ‘High Sith.’ “I think it would be better to leave this one off of the record.”
The Mirialan glanced at the datapad to see where Bastila had been indicating. “Ah yes,” Tiva Koq said. “I could see where that might prove problematic… It must have been overlooked when the file was created. We’ll delete it at once.”
“Good,” Bastila said, continuing past the languages as reading through the rest of the patient’s created service records.
BLOOD RELATIONS:
HERCARL DAKAAL, FATHER, DECEASED
VIVISHEA LUKLEE-DAKAAL, MOTHER, DECEASED
BLOOD TYPE: HUMAN, O POSITIVE
DESIGNATION: SPECIAL INTELLIGENCE AND CODE BREAKING
RELATED BACKGROUND: RECRUIT HAS PAST EXPERIENCE AS SMUGGLER WORKING THE CORRELLIAN RUN. BASIC KNOWLEDGE OF STEALTH, COMPUTERS, SECURITY AND DEMOLITIONS. BASIC PILOTING SKILLS. RECRUIT UNDERSTANDS A LARGE NUMBER OF ALIEN LANGUAGES. SUGGESTED DESIGNATION CODE BREAKING AND DEVELOPMENT BASED ON EXISTING SKILLS.
Bastila handed the datapad back to the Mirialan and looked at the patient again. The time and severance from the Force had lifted all traces of the minor Dark Side degradation she had shown previously. The color had returned to her previously death-pale flesh and Bastila could not help but to notice a series of scars running down the side of her body. Bastila frowned and turned back to the specialist.
“Old injuries,” the Mirialan assured her. “Not caused by our operations, but they do not match those described on her records from the previous war either. We’re not certain where they came from. But rest assured, we have inserted appropriate memories to explain them. Gwenevere Dakaal is a fully fleshed Republic citizen. I’ll admit, the primary behavioral core was quite difficult to reprogram, and so we were forced to leave many fundamental personality traits… but without the corresponding memories and without command of the Force, it should be of little to no threat.”
“And what if something should go wrong and the one from before should try to break through? I was informed that certain information from the previous mind would be retained for the sake of my own mission. Would these latent memories be enough to elicit such a response?”
“We have ensured that the latent memory can only be accessed while the patient is in a state of REM sleep. The memories will appear as no more than dreams to the patient, but the link between the two of you should allow you to view them simultaneously to the patient experiencing them. You can go ahead and test if you would like…”
The Mirialan then showed Bastila a small brassy cube with an intricate design, radiating a faint blueish light from within. It was a holocron. “We’ve recorded the full entirety of what we were able to recover here in case something should go wrong. The designation we’ve assigned the patient should keep them away from combat, but this is a war, Miss Shan. Accidents happen. We needed to be certain there could be a backup of the information should the patient be lost for whatever reason. The holocron of the patient’s full memories and personality is being sent to the Coruscanti archives for safe-keeping.”
“If there is holocron recording, then why do we not simply access it directly rather than using the subject?”
“We did consider the possibility. However, the personality within the holocron has proven to be quite rebellious and uncooperative. Beyond that, within the memories it is technically possible that there are certain portions which may only be accessed by the subject herself. All things considered, using the patient directly was decided to be the more ideal means of access.”
Bastila Shan looked back down at the patient and gently pressed her fingers to the woman’s temples before closing her eyes. Hazy images appeared. Herself, the Vindicator, a battle… Bastila opened her eyes and looked at the woman’s face. Some memories certainly remained. She only hoped that the ones that would bring an end to the Sith reign of terror were among them.
“We should leave as soon as possible,” Bastila said to the specialist. “We’ll need to be certain she remains sedated until we’re able to meet with the Republic fleet around Alderaan and introduce her into the crew. From there we’ll start along the Hydian Way Hyperspace Route and begin passing through the planets Revan and Malak visited starting from the Mandalorian Wars. There has to be something there that can give us a clue to what happened and how to stop it…”
“I’ll ensure that personnel remain with the patient until the integration had been made in case additional sedatives need to be administered. May the Force be with you, Padawan Bastila Shan. With any luck, this experiment will mean an end to the war.”
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Gwen Dakaal took a sip of Caffa as she went through the proposed cipher against the intercepted message on-screen. She’d wished it would’ve been something stronger, but alcoholic beverages weren’t permitted onboard. Just one more of those stupid fleet laws she cursed under her breath at least twice a week. She leaned back in her seat as far as she could stretching before cracking her knuckles and checking the cipher again.
The code was in a combination of languages: binary with Mando’a and Old Coruscanti… They knew there was a fourth language as well, and traces of a fifth. The more used seemed to Gwen like Old Deralian. It seemed odd for it to appear in the context of Sith Code—after all, hardly anyone even on Deralia spoke the thing! The only reason she recognized it herself was because her parents had made her study it while she was a kid. Her father had been quite the history buff and thought planetary history and culture was an important subject for his daughter to learn. Whoever created the code must have had some sort of Deralian ties…
The other unknown language did seem familiar, but she couldn’t place it… She’s picked up fragments of so many during her smuggling days that sometimes they got mixed up in her head. Was that Togruti, or was it Savrip? After a while they all started to sound the same…
She groaned and rubbed her temples. As much as she wanted to see an end to the Sith attacks, she had to admit that signing up to join the Republic fleet hadn’t cracked up to be all that she had imagined… no pun intended. She’d hoped there would have been a bit more action and excitement… Technically speaking, it was a good thing that the Endar Spire hadn’t been caught in any battles since she’d come aboard, but is was damn sure boring.
She’d thought being in fleet would be more like those action flicks on the holovids, but so far it had turned out to be mostly paperwork. When they had checked into her background experience, the person recruiting had some bright idea she’d fit best in the cipher department…. Which seemed interesting at first until she realized that it was mostly hours upon hours of staring at screens of intercepted Sith messages searching for fragments of anything that might prove useful counterintelligence…
Her shift never seemed to end soon enough. When it was over, she grabbed her cup and made her way to the mess hall, disposing of it in a receptacle along the way. She wondered what she should attempt this time. Fleet food hadn’t sat well with her stomach, but she was also getting sick of ration bars. She’d not had any stomach problems in the past, but ever since coming aboard, she’d had the same issue. She wasn’t sure if it was the foot itself, or some sort of motion sickness. She was more inclined, however, to think it was the food.
She took a tray of something that looked like a stew with meat and vegetables in it, hoping she would fare better than she had with the bantha burger last time, which had made her violently ill. In a worst-case scenario, she had more ration bars stored in the footlocker by her bunk.
Gwen toked around for an empty seat in the mess hall and found one among a few of the fighter pilots. “Mind if I sit here?” she asked.
“Not at all,” the pilot said. “Haven’t seen you around before… you new?”
“Transferred onboard at Alderaan last week,” she said as she took a seat. “Name’s Gwen. Gwen Dakaal”
“Sergio Padawe. Good to meet you, Gwen. I didn’t think we were expecting any new transfers… What department are you in?”
“Cipher,” she said. “Picked up a lot of languages in my previous line of work. Guess the higher-ups thought it would put me in a good position for code-breaking. I assume you’re all pilots from the uniforms?”
“You’d assume correctly,” Sergio said. He began working his way around the table, indicating each of the pilots there. “This is Tony, Ben, Jane, Ricky, Thom, Jim, Terra, Bonnie, Tim, and Oliver.” A few of them muttered a hello or gestured before returning to their meals.
“Carth is the other fleet pilot, but he never hangs out with the rest of us lately. Caught up in business with those Jedi since they came onboard…So how are you liking the Spire so far?” he asked her.
“Well, to be completely honest, it’s a lot less exciting than I’d imagined it to be… especially in Cipher. I know it’s important work and all… but I was kind of hoping for a bit more action.”
“Hey, don’t go cursing the times between combat. Front lines are a dangerous place. This is a war, not a picnic. Oftentimes less action is a good thing…”
“Yeah, maybe…” she said, blowing on a spoonful of stew before popping it into her mouth. “What do you guys do around here for fun?”
“Well, some of us meet up with some of the ground soldiers for Paazak on Taungsdays. You’re welcome to come join if you play.”
“Can’t say I do, but I might come watch. Maybe one of you would be willing to teach me.”
“The more the merrier. We’ll expect to see you next time then. On that note, we should probably head out. It’s about time for inspections. We’ll see you around then. It was nice meeting you, Gwen.”
“Nice meeting you guys too!”
><><><><><
Carth Onasi followed along with the small company of Jedi onboard the Endar Spire. At their lead was Jedi Bastila Shan. Shan had become a rather recognized figure since the recent months of the war. She had a rare gift among the Jedi known as ‘Battle Meditation,’ which, from what he understood, worked as a way to inspire allies and cause fear and doubt in one’s enemies. The ability had come in very useful for the Republic in battle, but what Jedi Bastila Shan was most famous for was the recent incident involving Revan and Malak, the two Jedi who had turned on the Republic and initiated this new war.
It was due to her Battle Meditation that, three months prior, she had led a strike team of Jedi aboard the Vindicator, the flagship of Darth Revan, the leader of the Sith. During the strike, Darth Malak, Revan’s apprentice, had turned on his Master and Revan met his end in the duel with Bastila. Thus, Miss Shan was best known as the Jedi who killed Darth Revan.
Recently, the crew of the Endar Spire had been assigned to escort Miss Shan on a special mission from the Jedi Council. Little detail was given to the Republic military personnel about the mission’s details. Carth knew that they would be roughly plotting a course along some of the battles during the Mandalorian Wars, though he wasn’t completely certain why. The Jedi refused any specifics on the matter. He had been requested to act as a sort of ‘guide’ to the mission since he’d fought in many of the battles they wished to retrace along the Outer Rim. Even so, he was just as much in the dark about most of the goings on as the rest of the crew was.
They had requested many things when they came aboard… a quiet chamber for meditation, specifics about the route to be taken between the points of interest, the transfer into the crew of a new Cipher in the intelligence department… While Carth respected authority and knew how to take orders, working with the Jedi was beginning to be a bit of a pain. He only hoped it was worth the trouble for the Republic fleet.
“I want a full report on the battle history at each planet,” Bastila Shan said as they walked. “I’ve been told you served much in the earlier parts of the Mandalorian Wars and that consequentially you would be the best option in serving as guide on our mission.”
“I served in a lot of the early battles, yeah, but the planets on your list don’t match up with all of them. Fleet never had an opportunity to react to Flashpoint…” He glanced down at list of places in the datapad. Flashpoint, Suurja, Serocco… What was this, some kind of a tour? The Republic was at war, and it wasn’t his job to be playing tour guide to a bunch of Jedi on some sort of hush hush mission from the Jedi Council. He looked back up at the Jedi. “Cathar?”
“Yes,” Bastila said plainly. “Mister Onasi, you were not recommended to me for the purpose of questioning my authority. Rest assured, the Jedi Council believes that this mission could bring the end to the war that we have all been looking for. You need only to trust in their wisdom and their judgement on the matter.”
The Jedi had been a key factor in the Republic’s victory in the Mandalorian Wars, but the Jedi then had acted very differently than the Jedi now. While he never saw much of them personally, once those Jedi had officially entered alongside the Republic, they had been very directly involved, participating on the battle field and employing knowledge of tactics in positioning troops. They didn’t involve soldiers in secret Jedi Missions that seemed to have no direct connection to the effort. While the Jedi Bastila who was leading this group had an ability that might help them win a few battles, she was young, and her lack of experience made him question her ability to command troops. “There are good men and women onboard risking their lives for this mission. I hope that the Council’s wisdom takes that into consideration too,” Carth muttered to himself.
TWISTED MORALITY (PART III of ONLY LIGHT CAN CAST SHADOW) CHAPTER THREE: SEEKING SHELTER FROM THE STORM (PREVIEW SECTION 5 OF 16)
[AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is a Preview section from an incomplete chapter]
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The impact from the escape pod crash landing on Taris’ surface had been quite rough. Perhaps if it weren’t for her Jedi training, she would never have survived it at all. The pod itself was smashed up rather badly. Parts of it were still singed and smoking from the travel through the planet’s atmosphere. Bastila Shan tried to breathe deeply, remaining mindful of herself and her vitals. She had survived the crash, but this was only the beginning. Now, she was stranded on an enemy occupied world with no way off and an entire army likely searching for her specifically.
She had to remain alert. The fate of the Republic was hanging by a thread. The Sith must have discovered that she was aboard the Endar Spire and set a trap for it along the hyperspace route as it traveled into the Outer Rim. All was not lost though. She could sense that much. While there were many losses as a result of the battle, she could sense that there were survivors… soldiers of the Republic, yes, but more importantly the one she was connected to. While faint, she could feel that connection in the Force was still present…
That much, at least, was a relief. If they had both survived this crash, then there was still hope, however slim it might be. She had to find ‘Gwenevere Dakaal’ and return to the Republic. She could not afford to fail this mission…
Bastila’s thoughts were cut short, however. She sensed presences coming--about a dozen of them! She fumbled with the safety belt from the escape pod so that she could get out of her seat. The blasted thing was stuck, and they were closing in quickly… She couldn’t tell yet whether they were Sith soldiers or natives, but either way, it was dangerous to let them find her so soon after the battle.
Finally, there was a click as the latch came undone. It was not, however, soon enough…
“Freeze!” She heard from the other side of the escape pod door. “Don’t move. This is Black Vulcar territory and we’re claiming the salvage from this wreck—you included!”
Bastila considered how to proceed. She did not have time to waste on dealing with local gangs. She would need to make this quick before things got out of hand. “I would advise against such a course of action,” the Jedi stated. With this, she leaped from her seat, reaching for her lightsaber to ignite it. There was only one problem. Her lightsaber was missing!
A stun shot came from behind, causing her to fall limp to the ground. She could still faintly hear them as she struggled to hold onto consciousness.
“She doesn’t look like a soldier,” one of them said. “She’s not wearing the standard Republic uniform. Must be some sort of an officer. I reckon a pretty young thing like her will fetch a hefty price on the slave market. We should sell her to the Crucible…”
“With the quarantine, we can’t sell her anywhere,” said another. “Bring her to Brejik. He’ll decide what to do with her. The rest of you, salvage what you can from the crash site—anything that seems like it could have value….”
She heard their voices grow fainter and fainter as she felt herself slowly lose consciousness and succumb fully to the stun.
TWISTED MORALITY (PART III of ONLY LIGHT CAN CAST SHADOW) CHAPTER THREE: SEEKING SHELTER FROM THE STORM (PREVIEW SECTION 1 OF 16)
[AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is a preview of a section from an incomplete chapter]
The escape pod went burning through the atmosphere of Taris before crashing, crashing to a grinding halt near an older apartment complex in the planet’s Upper City. Carth Onasi braced himself upon impact. It certainly wasn’t the smoothest of landings, but what could be expected from a crash landing escape pod out of a surprise space battle against the Sith fleet? All things considered, he was just happy to be alive and relatively uninjured. He couldn’t say the same about his companion though.
“Soldier? Soldier, are you all right?”
He gently shook the shoulder of Gwen Dakaal—the only other survivor from the Endar Spire. The two had managed to get aboard and to jettison the last escape pod before the entire ship exploded. There was no response. Carth checked her vitals. She was still alive, but she had been knocked unconscious from the crash. It seemed she had hit her head pretty hard on impact, and she was bleeding from a resulting cut near her hairline. He didn’t know yet if she had a concussion, but it was quite likely under the circumstances.
Taris was under Sith occupation. It wasn’t safe for the two of them to remain there, in the escape pod, for very long. After all, pretty soon a team of Sith Scouts would surely come searching the area for survivors from the crash. They had to find shelter somewhere…
Carefully, Carth took up his injured companion in his arms and opened the hatch to the escape pod. There was an apartment complex nearby, and it seemed to be their best bet for refuge for the time being. She was lighter than Carth had expected—certainly smaller than the average soldier—but the fact that she had managed to survive the attack and make it to the escape pods at all told him that there was certainly strength in her despite her petite size. If anything, it would make the situation a bit easier carrying her to safety. Carth hadn’t abandoned another soldier yet, and he certainly wasn’t about to start now…
He made his way cautiously toward the apartments, being careful to avoid the eyes of any Sith patrols. It was late, and so the cover of night served to aid in their escape. They needed to find Bastila if there was going to be any hope for The Republic, but Carth knew he couldn’t do so alone. Taris was an immense city-planet built layer upon layer and he lacked the skills on his own that might be required to locate her. What he’d been able to read of his companion’s service records while he had been waiting for her to make her way to the escape pods had convinced him of two things: that he would need her help if he was going to locate Bastila, and that there were some things he needed clarification of as to why she had been selected for their mission aboard the Endar Spire.
This particular apartment complex seemed old, but well enough kept. It was clearly habited, which could have been a good thing or bad thing. Either it could help them to blend in with the locals, or some local could report them for trespassing and they would be done for. Under the circumstances, Carth just had to hope for the best. There wasn’t anywhere else he could get to without being spotted, particularly while carrying another body.
The halls were fairly empty other than a few utility droids. Carth observed the door of each apartment unit as they passed. He was looking for anything that might indicate a vacant space. While he didn’t like the idea of remaining as squatters, they needed shelter fast.
Finally, he stopped. One of the doors seemed a bit different than the others. It was subtle, but there was a light coating of dust on the keypad that opened it. Whoever was responsible for cleaning had neglected this area, probably knowing that the unit had been vacant for some time. Carth bit his lip. He hoped that he was right. If he ended up breaking into some local’s apartment, there would certainly be even more trouble for them than they were in now…
Carth set his companion down and pulled a security tunneler from his supplies, quickly going to work until he heard a soft unlatching sound and pressed the trigger for the door. It slid open to reveal a dark and simply furnished apartment. It looked as though the place hadn’t been lived in for several months, which made it perfect to set up base until they could get off of this planet with Bastila.
He took his companion over to a bunk and set her down. “Must’ve hit her head pretty hard in the crash,” he muttered to himself. He gently lifted her head enough to slide a pillow underneath and the walked over to a chair to sit and pulled out his pack to see what little supplies they had—a few credits, some medpacks, a couple days’ worth of rations… They each had their blasters still on them. Luckily those hadn’t been destroyed in the crash. After all, they might end up needing them if any Sith happened to recognize that they were survivors of the space battle which had taken place overhead.
He pulled out one of the Medpacs and went back to his companion to begin tending to her injuries with a kolto patch. They didn’t seem too serious now that he could look them over more closely. He could only hope that she would heal quickly so they could begin searching for the Jedi Bastila. There was a sleep anesthetic in the pack also, which he chose to administer, thinking that the rest would help her body recover.
He brushed a stray lock of blood-dampened raven hair out of her face to put a cold compress to her forehead. Carth couldn’t help but to wonder what her assignment on the Endar Spire had been. After all, she didn’t strike him as the soldier type and her records were… odd at best. She had used some degree of stealth during the time that he had observed her making her way to the escape pods, so perhaps she was a scout of some sort…
He couldn’t say that he knew her very well. After all, she had only been recently assigned to the Republic crew that had been aboard. In fact, it was a last-minute assignment, which made him wonder even more. Bastila Shan, the Jedi in charge of the mission, had specifically requested that this woman be transferred into the crew. It seemed more than just a bit strange to him that somebody who was a last-minute transfer requested by the Jedi was the only surviving crew member other than him. In his time dealing with the Jedi, Carth had come to figure out that things like this were seldom just a coincidence…
No sooner had he placed the cold compress to her head than the woman began to stir. She seemed to be trying to get up. Almost as if she were waking from a bad dream. While it was encouraging to see her attempting to move, it probably wasn’t the best idea given her current state.
“Woah, hold on,” he said, gently pushing her back down as she attempted to sit up. “I admire your spirit, but don’t try to get up just yet. You were smashed up pretty badly when we crash landed here on Taris. Don’t worry, we should be safe here in this apartment. I gave you something to help you sleep. Just get some rest and let the kolto packs to their job.”
He wasn’t sure if she had heard him at all and was actually taking his advice, or if the sleep aid had simply finished kicking in, but she relaxed back into the bunk and dozed off. Carth gave a sigh of relief. He needed rest himself after all that had transpired. The soldier kicked off his boots, hung his flight jacket over the back of the old couch and laid down, closing his eyes. In the morning, he would need to scout the area some to see what he could learn of their situation. With any luck, the other survivor would be awake by then… Dakaal if he recalled correctly from her records.
He stretched as much as he could within the couch’s space and began to doze off. There was a lot of work to be done still. After all, the Republic was counting on them to find Bastila Shan and return her to the Jedi Order.
My name is Gwen Dakaal. I was born on Deralia—a small planet on the Outer Rim, not far from Hutt Space. There’s not much to see there in terms of tourism. The capital is a beautiful place, but most of the planet is simply farmland. Personally, I couldn’t stand it. I've always fancied myself more of a city girl and spacer than the country type. I left some time ago and worked as a smuggler for several years. I never did any serious hauls… usually just minor spice shipments. It wasn’t great work, but it paid the bills.
After all, I was alone. My parents both died during the attacks leading up to the Mandalorian War. I didn’t join the effort then—after all, I didn’t want trouble, just to make a living for myself. But when our heroes from the Mandalorian War turned on the very Republic which they had previously saved, I couldn’t bring myself to continue turning a blind eye. I joined the Republic forces in hope to prevent other families from being torn apart by the plague of war. Unfortunately, it is a plague which seems to have no clear end in sight.
When the Mandalorians surrendered, Revan, Malak, and the Jedi who had served under them were considered heroes. But after the war, they disappeared. No one heard from them until their return two years later. But this time, they were different. The Dark Side had taken a hold over them and they had joined the Sith Empire. They started a new war—a war of Jedi against Jedi, and a war against the Republic. It was the start of the Jedi Civil War.
Battle after battle was fought, with many casualties on both sides… Though while the Republic forces seem to diminish and to dwindle, the Sith seem to continue growing more and more. When Revan and Malak had returned, they brought with them a new fleet, unlike that the Republic has ever seen before.
Things were desperate when a small strike team of Jedi led by Bastila Shan boarded Revan’s flagship and challenged the Dark Lord. It is said that during this time, Malak betrayed his Master, and Revan finally met an end at the hands of the Jedi strike team.
After the death of Revan, Darth Malak, Revan’s apprentice, claimed the title of Dark Lord of the Sith for himself. However, his tactics were quite different than his Master’s. Revan was a tactical genius, employing stealth, subtlety, and manipulation, turning his enemies to support his cause… whereas Malak commands in terror and fights with brute strength, destroying all obstacles in his path.
Currently, I am assigned aboard the Endar Spire, accompanying this Jedi, Bastila Shan, on a mission from the Jedi Council. None of us onboard are entirely certain as to what this mission is, other than that we are supposed to protect her with our lives. She is said to have a unique ability among the Jedi known as the “Battle Meditation” that has helped the Republic greatly in the war against the Sith.
There are a few other Jedi that were also a part of the strike force that killed Revan who are accompanying Bastila. I must say that I’m not so fond of not having any details on the nature of our mission other than to protect Bastila, but those are the orders. In fact, I’d go so far as to say I hate the idea. When I signed up to help the Republic, blind missions babysitting Jedi weren’t exactly what I had in mind. After all, if they are Jedi, shouldn’t they be able to take care of themselves?
I can only hope that it’s all worth it and that, by carrying out our mission, we will be able to bring an end to this seemingly never-ending war with the Sith…
