Saga Survival - OCs - Old Republic (3632/3642 BBY) and Saga (5 BBY) - Updated! Chapter 3 - 08/24/2015

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Mod Note: Locked by request of author. ​

SURVIVAL​

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Era: Before and Saga.

Genre: AU, action, adventure, drama.

Characters: OCs (mainly Iella Severina Draav, Drex Molokai, Tanarys Veir, Dav Orden, Daané Aurine, Viera Kovani, Darth Immaculata, Lady Viscretus, Inquisitor Viscretus, and Emiliana Volshe).
Some of the characters listed are technically alter-egos, but I’m not spoiling them just yet.

Description: A tale of survival that spans two eras – The Old Republic and the inter-trilogy era. It follows a couple of characters as they try to survive in the Galaxy during times of turmoil and civil war.

Around 3640 BBY:
The Treaty of Coruscant has been signed, but a Cold War rages on. Despite the treaty, the Sith and the Jedi still fight. The Jedi aim to stop the Sith, while the Sith aim to take over the Galaxy once again. Tanarys is one of the Jedi striving to stop them.

Meanwhile, a young woman, Iella Severina Draav, is just trying to live life without choosing sides. Life on Coruscant is a challenge for a woman with nothing to her name and an equally poor family. But something happens that will change her, and that something will affect the entire Galaxy for years to come.

5 BBY:
Sects of Rebels are infiltrating Coruscant, as well as other areas of the Galaxy. Inquisitor Viscretus has been assigned to handle the insurgences. There’s one problem - it’s not nearly as easy as she was led to believe.

Disclaimer: I own the OCs the custom planets/species/etc, but nothing else. Thanks for everything George, EA, and Disney

Final Note:
I have been working on this for a while now, since the creation of my first OC (which happens to be my namesake here!). It’s probably entirely AU, especially since Rebels has started and with any upcoming Disney endeavours. Plus, I am taking some creative liberties with certain things, so it will not be exactly by the book.

The other problem is it takes place both in between ROTS-ANH, as well as before – during the Old Republic Era. For now, I’m not going to label it anything except Saga.

It also may be a little atypical, as it was originally two side by side fics. It works better together as one, though.

Thanks for reading, and as always, concrit is welcome!!!

Chapter 1​

3632 BBY
Aravis III – Dustbowl Cantina

Drex looked at the Jedi with disdain, swirling his drink absentmindedly. His grey-blue eyes betrayed nothing to her.

"You aren't going to learn anything from me," he said, "I don't know about any Sith."

The Jedi drummed her slender fingers on the table. She could already tell this was not going to be easy.

"Let me decide that."

He shook his head.

"No way. I said I don't have anything to tell you." The burly man stood abruptly, slapping a few credits on the bar and turning for the door. The bartender waved one of his four arms and turned back to the other patrons.

Tanarys jumped off her seat and followed behind him. It was evident he wouldn't tell her what she needed to know. At least, not without a little persuasion. She would have to find out what he was hiding herself.

The best place to start was to watch his every move.

The man definitely was not very aware. Unlike most suspicious criminals, he maintained a straight path. His eyes never once scanned his surroundings. In fact, they only glanced up from his feet a single time - when he nearly collided with a synthoil coated Rodian.

Eventually his path led her to an apartment building. It resembled a crate, square and with very few windows. The walls were onyx and unlit - which did nothing to help the drab atmosphere of the city. There was a small plaza outside the doors. As the blazing red sun sunk out of view, miners and factory workers were streaming in and out of the doors. The shift changes had already started. Tanarys stopped and watched; her target's head bobbing across the sea of workers. Although the chaos it made it easier for her to remain undetected, it also made it more difficult to keep track of Drex. It had already been a challenge. His drab, soot stained clothing and bulky frame did not exactly stand out in a planet crawling with smugglers and laborers. Tanarys fell back a few metres and watched as he merged into another small crowd of workers.

He checked over his shoulder briefly, checking the now populated streets for her face. His brow furrowed slightly. Tanarys pursed her lips and waited. She was far from hidden, but he couldn't seem to find her. The crimson streaked dusk probably wasn't helping. He looked again, reaching into his jacket for something. Tanarys couldn't make out the item and before she could even try to identify it, his fingers closed around it.

Abruptly, he began to stride back towards the main street. Realising that he had hoped she would follow him, she darted through the thinning crowd. The cube apartments were not his final destination. Drex was already meters ahead of her, branching off from the evening rush and onto a new deserted pathway. It was even blander than the first, only the occasional streetlight dusting the pale, clay ground on either side. She could see a mudlurker skitter across the path behind him. Its black, slime-coated body and many legs disappeared into a burrow. The things always sent shivers up her spine. The carnivorous amphibians appeared out of nowhere and would wait until dark to attack prey – otherwise known as anything that moved.

Tanarys stopped. If she followed him too closely, he would no doubt see her. But being unfamiliar with the rugged, mountainous terrain and winding paths - and night quickly approaching - she had little choice. She branched off behind him, her steps light as a hunting nexu. She brushed a strand of brown hair from her face and hoped that she wouldn’t lose her only lead.



5 BBY
Coruscant - Level 158

The woman ran - her long robes flapping against the air of the ventilation fans. The vent shafts were certainly large enough to run in, but they certainly weren't made for it. The rectangular pipe was slippery enough without the flow of noxious gases and oily air from the slums surrounding it. Coming to a sharp bend, she sprinted forward. After effortlessly rounding the curve, she gulped a breath of air and glanced behind her, shaking her hair out from her eyes. It was empty. No sign of her pursuer.

She almost breathed a sigh of relief.

Almost.

Until she saw the crimson glow of a lightsaber behind her - reflecting off the shiny metal walls. It rebounded off the curved section she had just exited, getting brighter with every step she took. Her lungs ached, begging her to stop running. But she would be dead in mere seconds if she stopped now. Perhaps even faster.

A loud creak shook the tunnel. She suddenly remembered to look ahead. The central valve was closing - no doubt the ground forces were catching up to her as well. The telescoping doors began to close, inching shut before sliding quickly towards each other.

Kriff.

She only had one chance to make this. And perhaps the tunnels would do her a favor. Taking a deep breath, centering herself, feeling her legs absorb every molecule of energy around her - she leaped forward. Her strides were long, evenly spaced; her eyes focused on the valve as it continued to close. Each stride contained more power than the last. Eventually she was running. More than running - soaring. Mere meters from the rapidly closing doors, she leaned back. Her body hit the ground and continued to slide. The pure speed she had reached threatened to pull her flesh from her bones. Her skin screamed at her as it abraded against the metal.

She only caught a glimpse of the doors as she slid through, the only signal that she had made it. She was in the center of the piping now. The light streaming from open valves ahead could be nothing more than artificial. The valve doors shut behind her with a resonating clang. It shook the entire pipe.

Still sliding, she sprung herself up with her hand. Her feet landed softy on the ground and she continued to run. Once she was at full speed again, she allowed herself a quick glance behind. Just to make sure she had lost the one behind her.

Her eyes darted about, trying to recognize where she was. The tunnel was essentially the same. She couldn’t see anything directing her to safety. Taking a breath, she picked a smaller vent to her right at random. Not only was it was smaller, it was darker, too. More opportunity for her to hide.

She turned into it, narrowing her eyes. There was a thin strip of light near the end - most likely another junction between vents. There was nothing else she could make out. Determined, she pushed onward. The tunnel separated ahead into two paths. Neither looked more inviting, but going by the light, the left seemed to have more potential.

Allowing another cautious glance behind her, she turned left into the next set of vents. The tubes were a lot cleaner now, she noticed. Her thick synthleather boots no longer threatened to slip from beneath her. The air still stunk of rotting food and waste, however. The smaller vents definitely did not help her escape the malodour.

She followed another bend, the light lessening the further she went. By now she could barely see her own hands. There was no way to turn back, though. Not with what she was trying to escape. She wouldn’t stand a chance. No weapon, no armor, no backup.

She shook her head in frustration.

I can’t believe I fell for it!

It wasn’t the first time one of her colleagues had fallen for it, but so far she had survived the longest after making their mistake. Which wasn’t an encouraging thought.

She turned another corner, her mind listening for the hum of the saber that followed her – or the footsteps of its owner. Beams of light hit her eyes as she turned, brighter than anything she had expected. The drastic change made her wince. She blinked several times, trying to ease her shocked pupils back to normal function.

A large open space was ahead of her. She continued towards it. The light shone in through an enormous cylinder of fans – far too large and long to get through. She looked to either side. There was a door to her right. She approached it, hoping to the Maker it would be unlocked and wouldn’t be a dead end.

The lock mechanism on the side had a small green orb of light, showing that it was open. She breathed a sigh of relief and flicked the door’s switch. It opened into a narrow, black hallway. Red lanterns lit the path, up to a small circular room ahead. A thick grate covered the floor. It rattled the moment she stepped on it. She inhaled sharply. If anyone was in here, she was going to be in trouble very soon.

She flipped around and shut the door. It shushed close with a small snap. Examining the hall ahead, she stepped gingerly down the grate. She arrived in the room ahead. It was empty, luckily. There was a small console to the left. She examined it. The screen flashed with the schematics for the maintenance tunnels. It seemed she was only a catwalk and one level south of an exit into the busy 158 Level streets. A small maintenance shack marked on the map would be her escape.

A crash came from behind her. Her hand reached instinctively to her belt, but nothing was there. They had taken her weapon. Realizing that, she bolted for the catwalk – just straight down another corridor. She didn’t take a chance to see what it was – the last thing she needed was something else to escape.

Her footsteps still rattled the grate. Sweat was dripping from her brow now, adrenaline pulsing through her mind. It focused her. Everything except the catwalk ahead became a blur. Her feet clicked on the catwalk as she sprinted across. She glanced down, the chasm below her filled with controls and blinking lights. For a moment, she wondered how the maintenance droids and workers could even manage to access such an area
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Turning her attention back ahead, she saw her second target. The hoverlift was in the room ahead, the map stating it went right to a cramped maintenance room to the upper section of level 158. The door was already open, she checked for anyone hidden in the shadows before proceeding through.

Brushing her white hair from her orange skin, she slowed to look for the hoverlift.
It should be…right around here….

She flicked back through her memory, trying to find the schematics she had committed to memory. There was a door just diagonal her, seemingly matching the blueprint in her mind’s eye. She hurried forward. It was locked.

Of course.

She held her anger back, trying to think of another way out. If only they hadn’t taken her pack. She was fast, clever, but nothing else without her things.

One more door, she thought, only seeing one other possible way out. She spun back, looking for the other door. It was through a short corridor. The room beyond was just as dimly lit as the corridors before, only a red glow permeating through the darkness. She tried to blink away the ghostly ‘sabers her eyes created.

She stepped into the room. Hexagon shaped. The same grate covered the floor, though this one was nearly silent. A comms panel was on one wall, a hoverlift on another. She breathed a sigh of relief. At the very least, she could override the lifts security through the comms panel. She took another step towards the hoverlift, breathing easier now.

Something caught her eye. It was metallic, glinting in the dim red glow. She squinted, trying to make it out in the darkness. She still couldn’t make out what it was, but it seemed to be some sort of scrap metal. She turned, trying to see exactly what it was.

A couple of steps closer was all it took. She inhaled in shock.

Her lightsaber.

No…that’s not possible.

She pulled it towards her with the Force, clutching it as it flew into her hands. Inhaling through grit teeth, she searched the shadows. She backed up, one then two steps.

Only one person had had her lightsaber. There was no way this was it. Yet, it was. The hilt was smooth, familiar. The knobs and adjustors were all in the correct spaces.
Realizing what had happened, she had to muffle the fear that seeped deep into her bones.

She lay on the floor, her eyes dazed. Her eyelids shut and she struggled to open them. They blinked heavily again. From the corner of her vision she saw it. The flowing crimson robes. The burning red blades, swinging in fury. She could hear the yells of her master. He believed she was dead, the way she lay. Her limbs too tired to move from their flayed positions.

The hooded figure spoke, in between the clash of ‘sabers. Her words were low, sarcastic.

“You are more of a fool than I anticipated, believing you can best me alone."

Her master replied, his voice calm.

“We shall see.”
The woman continued to taunt him, her voice syrupy. The screeching noise of colliding sabers filled the room. The sound of someone falling echoed as the shrieks stopped.

“I warned you….Jedi. Your cause is dead. You and your….apprentice will not trouble the Empire any longer.”

“The Jedi will return. More powerful than before, stronger than the height of the Republic.”

“Enough” she replied, anger turning it to a shout, “It’s time for you to die.”

The sound of two blades hitting flesh reverberated in the room. The red blades screamed, as If they were greedy carnivores feasting on the blood. The cloaked woman stepped up to the Jedi, taking her lightsaber and clipping it to her own belt. Though her face was shadowed, a smirk was still visible sliding across her mouth.

The memory ended abruptly. Moments after that encounter the Jedi had stood, attempting to run. She had made it to this point. But now…she was trapped.

Her breathing turned heavy. There was no telling what would happen next. She spun around the room, trying to sense the dark presence of the Sith. She could feel the darkness, but it was all around her. There was nothing she could do.

She stepped towards the hoverlift, hoping to escape. Hoping the lightsaber was just a mere coincidence.

That’s impossible, don’t kid yourself.

Her breath felt suddenly heavy. The Empire knew she was here. They had to. They’d been following her every move, and now they were anticipating her next move. Her hand reached the command panel for the hoverlift. She pressed the button, calling so she could head to the surface. She held her ‘saber in the other hand. It’s cool, heavy metal was somewhat reassuring.
At least if she had to fight she could defend herself.

The hoverlift doors slid open and she slipped inside. There were three floors. She hesitated for a moment, before deciding the uppermost floor had to lead to the maintenance room on street level. The hovercar began to whirr before lurching. The whirring grew louder as the car proceeded to the surface. Her hands were sweating now. What if they were waiting for her? Outside the doors? She wouldn’t last a second. Not even a half second. She swallowed, hard.

Her other hand curled around her lightsaber hilt as she tried to feel for any energy close by. The darkness still shrouded everything, stopped her from seeing even civilians on the street level. She sighed. Her finger moved towards the ignition switch.

Whatever they would throw at her, she would be ready.

The swoop of billowing robes came from behind her, a split second before the sound of armored footsteps landing on the hovercar’s durasteel floor.

The Sith.

She now stood in the hover car with Daané, her elaborate, deep red robes still masking her identity.

In shock, the Jedi glanced upwards. The top of the hovercar was missing, exposing the car to the shaft.

She attempted to ignite her saber, but only received a quick shock of green. She pressed the button again, rapidly. It refused to cooperate and only spurted the occasional flash of green.

The Sith woman ignited her two crimson blades, before dropping her hood. Intricate violet face paint surrounded her eyes and lips. Her face was thin, her cheekbones high. A headband wrapped around her forehead, securing her blonde hair into its similarly elaborate style.

“Allow me to properly introduce myself, Daané” she said. As she spoke the Jedi’s name, her eyes glinted with amusement. “And to congratulate you on an extremely well executed escape.”

“I am Inquisitor Viscretus,” she smirked, cocking her head to one side, “I would love to give you a choice, but I am afraid you have only one option. You are coming with me.”

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Interesting beginning. Looking forward to see where you take this...

 

Really well written - tense and great action. I'm interested to see how these two lives intersect!

 

Volshe Wonderfully interweaving times and plotlines converging. Full of action and intrigue! Your writing is crisp and umphy

 

Chapter 2​

3632 BBY
Aravis III - Mining Complex

Drex stopped at a complex, pausing to briefly look around. Tanarys fell back into the shadows and waited for him to continue forward. The complex looked worn, the acid rain had etched deep wounds into the walls. There were a few short spires jutting from the middle and what looked to be a scanner dish on the roof. No doubt that it used to be an old mining building for administrators or similar.

Pulling a card from his vest, Drex headed towards a doorway about 3 meters ahead. He tapped the card against a scanner, waiting as it slid open. Placing his hands on his hips, he looked around to see if anyone had followed him. Seemingly satisfied, he stepped inside and let the door shut behind him. The indicator light beside it changed from green to red. Locked.

From her vantage point Tanarys could see another way in - a small blocked off vent that was crudely covered with a sheet of metal. She stepped up to it, examining the metal. Gripping it, she tried to pull it off. It was stuck fast, not even moving a micrometer. Her finger traced small pocks in the smooth surface. It had been soldered on multiple times. She grabbed a small plasma torch from her belt. It didn't have much juice, but it would be enough to get in. The blue flame burst to life with a crackle. Within seconds the metal was glowing hot. She pulled each corner firmly, but carefully, hearing a satisfying pop as they separated. With every connection severed, the panel fell forward. She caught it with her palms, trying to avoid the spots that were still molten. Tanarys set it aside carefully against the building.

The vent behind was small, but it would work. Going by the fact they had covered it, it was either useless or - even better - lead to somewhere they didn’t want her to be. Tucking her lightsaber and torch into her boot, she knelt down and looked in. She could see up to a trill intersection. Light filtered in through one side, shafts of a bright cerulean that seemed electronic to her. The other direction wasn't as bright, but that could just mean it led her deeper into the building. Closer to her goal. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to listen for voices through the vent. There were voices... or maybe there was just one. Her brow furrowed in concentration. The alusteel walls distorted what little she could hear, making it impossible to pinpoint the voice or voices.

She pondered her options for a moment. Figuring the light must be a sign of someone, perhaps even someone vital to her mission, she shimmied into the tube on her stomach. It was only about a quarter meter in when she realized that the vent was flimsy, bending beneath her petite frame. That alone was enough. But when she brought her foot up to propel her forward, the resulting clunk made her realise alusteel echoed.

Great choice, she thought, shaking a wisp of brown hair from her eyes. She hoped to Force the vent would hold her weight. Otherwise she was going to be in a whole lot more trouble than she anticipated. Her master had always reminded her to patiently think things through, but it was never at the front of Tanarys' mind.

Probably should be.

She pushed off again, wincing at the reverbrations and trying to drill the lesson into her head. She moved gingerly for the remaining length of vent. As she approached the intersection she glanced to both sides. The branch to her right - with the light - took another turn. Another grate, this one made of multiple bars of metal, let the bluish light filter in. She turned her head to the left. The darker tunnel continued straight, extending far beyond her vision.

She was pondering which side to take when she heard the voice again. Rather, voices. There were three voices. They filtered through the grate, now untainted by the metal walls around her.

Crawling carefully to the grate, she peered out. A group of three stood below. One looked to be a Devaronian - a pair of sharp horns protruded from his pink head. His face was twisted into a sneer. The other was a Twi’lek. She sat on a table, her green lekku hanging from beneath a worn helmet. The last person she recognized as Drex. He had his arms crossed, his back to them all, and looked at a large, blue screen.

Tanarys narrowed her eyes and watched them, hoping they wouldn’t look to where she was. The bars of the grate were wide enough that they would see her in an instant. Luckily, they seemed more preoccupied with each other and the data the screen showed.

The Twi’lek shoved herself up from the table, beginning to pace. “We can’t be bothered by these Jedi again.”

Drex sighed, still focused on the screen. His hands tapped a few keys. “We’re not going to be.”

“And how do you know that?” The Devaronian interjected, his accent harsh.

“I do. I told her I didn’t know anything about any Sith.”

The Twi’lek stopped pacing and looked at Drex. “You really expect her to just…give up?”

Drex looked at her and shrugged. “What was I supposed to tell her, Meira? Everything?”

Meira shot him a glare and stalked up to him like a nexu. Anger curled her lips. “You weren’t supposed to even be there. They told us the city wasn’t safe.”

“I just needed fresh air. This place isn’t exactly some luxury space hotel.”

Her expression grew more annoyed. “It may not be Coruscant 500. But fresh air? On this rock?”

Drex turned back to the computer and ignored her. Tanarys focused on him, trying to glean something off his thoughts. His mind was filled with frustration alone. He betrayed nothing about who the others were, nor anything about their mission.

“You’re going to ignore me? If we lose this research, this shipment to the Republic, they’ll have our heads. And everyone else’s too. Though I’m sure you’d rather breathe your sweet-smelling lethane.”

He turned around, his hulking frame dwarfing hers. “You’ve got some nerve. I don’t care what you think, I don’t fail assignments. So some sage advice, before I leave you to deal with this alone, Meira. Shut it.”

She stood taller, trying to make up the difference in their heights. Her lips were pressed thin.

“Drex…Meira” the Devaronian clasped his leatheris-gloved hands together. He ambled between them calmly. “We’ve got a job to do. I’m sure neither of you want to fail this. We all know the consequences if we fail.”

They both eyed him carefully. Meira put her hands in the pockets of her grey jumpsuit. Her face was still tensed in anger. Tanarys could feel both of their frustration starting to ebb, though.

“I’m going back to the workshop then. Alone.”

The Devaronian tilted his head slightly, inviting her to leave. She let out one last breath and walked towards the vent, before disappearing to Tanarys’ right. The only way Tanarys knew she had left was the clicking and whoosing of the door.

“It’s been three standard months and you haven’t learned a thing.”

“Azalus, Meira has a temper hotter than Sullust. Nobody except you can handle her.”

“You can’t always avoid it, but you don’t make it easy on yourself.”

“Why did you even bring her?”

“I’ve told you. She’s one in a billion. Without her we’d be done before we started.”

Drex paused and rubbed his forehead. “The ion drives on the NR2 need new power cells. Do we have any?”

“I grabbed a few last Taungsday, real cheap. 200 creds a piece.”

“Set them up in the hangar. I’ll get to it.”

Azalus nodded, adjusting his calf-length brown coat. “I’ve gotta figure out when the next shipment is after that. Let me know when she’s up and running.”

Drex nodded.

The Devaronian left the same way the Twi’lek had. Tanarys waited until she heard the door shut before looking back to Drex. The man was leaning over the table now, his eyes on some datapad. The table bent slightly beneath his locked arms. He mumbled something to himself, before shutting of the datapad and taking a seat on a worn metal stool with his back to her.

Tanarys waited, looking towards the door. It had a small switch embedded the in the control panel to lock it. Reaching out her hand the slightest amount, she used the Force to flick it locked. A small click came from the doorway. She hoped Drex hadn’t heard it, but his lack of a reaction seemed to indicate he hadn’t.

She shimmied the plasma torch out from her boot and manoeuvred her hand to grasp it. Flicking it on and holding it to the grate, she hoped it would cut through easily. And quietly. The last thing she needed was him to hear her before she was ready.

The grate was much thinner than she had expected. The small but ravenous flame sliced through easily, leaving a wound of molten metal in its wake. She carefully pushed on each section, pushing it through before it could harden again. Within a minute Tanarys had cut the entire grate out. She grasped the centre with one hand and eased it through, waiting for it to cool. Once the glowing reds had faded to grey, she slid the grate into the vent behind her.

Exchanging the plasma torch for her lightsaber, which she clipped to her belt, she prepared herself to slip out from the vent and into the room below. She kept her eyes on Drex while she pushed forward.
Peering down below, she noticed there was not anything to break her fall. Barring a few short stone buttresses, this side of the room was almost completely empty. She was only about 6 and a half meters up, but that would be enough to cause serious damage. Even for a Jedi.

If she used the wall to get down, though, she would be fine. The only problem would be repositioning herself. The vent was decent sized, but it was not meant for living creatures. Despite the fact it would easily fit an Ugnaught.

Here goes nothing, she thought, pressing her palms down and preparing to shove herself from the vent. She took a deep breath and focused the Force into her arms before heaving herself forward. As she flew from the opening, she twisted. Her hands reached out and grasped the lower lip of the vent. She swung into the wall, using her boots to grip onto the wall.

Now what? She thought, realizing the ground was only a mere 1.6 meters – her height – closer.

“How the droyk did you get in here?”

Kriff.

Tanarys peered around her arm, trying to see where Drex was. He stood near the chair - a blaster raised. Adrenaline began to course through her veins, the view of the barrel forming a lump in her throat. She had no way to defend herself. Even using one hand to disarm him would send her falling to the duracrete floor below.

He waved his blaster at her for a moment before speaking.

"Look...I knew you were following me. You stick out like a Gungan in a pack of Ortolans. But I didn’t expect you to follow me in here. Do you realize what you’re in the middle of?"

Tanarys looked up, then back down to him. This really wasn’t the best time for an interrogation.

“I need info. You have it.”

Drex holstered the blaster and crossed his arms. Tanarys felt her throat relax.

At least he’s not going to use me for target practice.

“You think I have it.”

“I know you have it. I heard everything.”

“So I know of a Sith, what’s it to you?”

“It’s vital to me. I need to know everything you know about her.”

“What if I don’t tell you?”

She readjusted her hands, her palms starting to sweat.

“I guess I don’t have much to bargain here. I’ll help you with your…shipment. Or whatever it is you’re all so worried about.”

“You’d be committing treason.”

“Would I be? What is this you’re working on here?”

“Weapons.”

“Against the Republic?”

Drex rolled his eyes and sat back down. “What do you think, Jedi? We’re sitting here on this planet, hiding from the likes of you. We sure as frink aren’t surprising you with a gift.”

“How much do you know about this Sith?”

“More than I’d like to.”

Tanarys grimaced. He was making this difficult for her, probably enjoying watching her squirm. Her arms were shaking now with the effort of holding herself up. Even the Force energy she was channeling was faltering.

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“I know enough. But you’ve got to earn it.”

“And what if I say no to your proposal?”

He smirked at her and crossed his legs. “I’ll be dragging you out back once you fall from that ledge. You’ve got valuable insight into the Republic though, access to more knowledge than we could imagine…I’m hoping you won’t choose that path.”

She paused, looking at him with frustration and readjusting her hands once more. She only needed to make sure he didn’t blast her, after that she could be out of the complex and off planet in mere hours. Or…she could feed them false information and learn about the Sith. Whatever the option, she’d need to play along for now.

“Spacer’s honor?” She cringed internally, realizing the childhood saying was out of place.

He chuckled lightly. “Spacer’s honor. If I can trust you, Jedi.”

“I have personal interest in this Sith. It goes far beyond any Republic mission.”

Drex looked at her inquisitively, his curiosity piqued.

Her left hand slid. “You’d better hurry. I’m about to become a hotcake. Blast me later if I don’t keep my end of the deal.”

He rose and walked beneath her, holding his arms out.

“You’re going to catch me? From 5 meters up?”

“Just let go, Jedi. Stop running your mouth.”

Tanarys released her hands. Either he was going to actually catch her or he would end up the hotcake. Much to her surprise, he caught her with little effort before shoving her back up roughly. She rubbed her palms. The rough walls had abraded them, the raw sections stinging as blood flowed back to them.

“Now get this clear, we’re associates. Not friends. None of that chummy business. I’m in charge, and what I say goes. And this…” His hand lifted a silver and black object. Tanarys realized instantly it was her lightsaber.

“Give that back.”

“This is mine until we’re done. I’m not really for having this whole complex trashed. Especially not getting myself sliced through.”

Tanarys glared at him.

“Look, Jedi, if you really wanted to avoid trouble you shouldn’t have snuck in through the vents.”

“The door was locked,” she shot back.

“That usually means you’re not welcome. You weren’t welcome. I’m being gracious here, not something I usually do.”

She remained silent, staring at him with her emerald eyes.

“I’m certainly enjoying this, but you’re going to have to help us out. Deal’s a deal. I have this datapad, Republic code. I need it decrypted by morning.” He swiped the datapad off the table and tossed it to her. “You can sit over there, on the bench. We’ve got the first three of the cipher done, so I’ll know if you’re feeding me shavit.”

Tanarys grabbed it from him and walked over to the bench, sitting on the edge.

His voice started again. “You’ll wanna get comfy, Jedi.” She focused on the datapad. His use of Jedi was grating. “You’ve got 30 to get through.”

She read the first line, realizing she had made a huge mistake.

Tython Defense Grid - Primary

 

Ohh, love the intrigue and now Tanarys is allied with Drex' group for an equal exchange of practical and factual aid. Drex' no-nonsense and curt demeanor seem to fit the circumstances. Interesting dynamics too with the other team members: Azalus the mediator and Meira- the one who can push all Drex' buttons.

 

Thank you

 

Notes before this chapter:
Fanon! Arkanian words have been created, the first of which appears in this chapter. I will be adding a full dictionary in spoiler tags once I work on it some more. There are only like…two I could find. I feel like it has influenced many other Galactic languages, but has also evolved itself from High Arkanian, the earliest known form of the language.
Abysc – Realm of Ice. One of the Seven Realms. It is believed it has an icy, frigid and gaseous atmosphere.
Seven Realms / Sarii’ysc – The Seven Realms – the afterlife is believed to be divided into seven separate realms. Ice, Fire, Earth, Air, Void, Water, Arkania.

---

Chapter 3​

5 BBY
Coruscant, Imperial Palace

Daané pulled her legs up to her chest. The cell was small and dim. The walls and floor were all the same metal, not a single seam excepting the door. They had even taken her jacket. All she had on were her thick beige spacer’s pants and a black short-sleeved shirt. It was cold as abysc. There was only a single light above her, filtering through some alusteel grate. The air was heavy and stale, to the point her throat ached. She sighed and tried once again to slip her hands from the binders. They creaked as she channelled what Force energy she could into them, but they seemed almost to sap her strength as soon as she could muster it. Her head fell back onto the wall. Fatigue overtook her for a moment and she closed her eyes. Master Lutryos had told her about the Empire’s ways to subdue a Jedi, but never about this.

They will have no mercy. Blasters, disruptors, even lightsabers. All may be used against you.

Daané swallowed. Those were what he had told her about. She assumed no Jedi had ever made it to an Imperial prison, and those who had...hadn't survived long enough to warn them. Her mind raced, imagining what the Empire had at its disposal to deal with traitors and Jedi.

She had thought to herself that she would never be in that situation, that the Empire didn’t care about a ragtag group of Jedi hiding beneath the streets of Coruscant. Who cared about anyone below the first 200 levels? Now, she realized, she was lucky to be alive. But…why? Viscretus had led her to a cell deep within the heart of the Imperial Palaces, only the binders on her wrists. If they wanted to kill her, wouldn’t they have done it already?

Viscretus had killed Master Lutryos without a second thought. He had trained with actual Jedi – back when the Council wasn’t simply a shell of its former self. His name brought a jolt through her. It was only the second time she realized he was one with the Force. She tried not to recall the crackling of the Sith’s blades or her sickening smile.

She realized with another jolt that the other Jedi were now somewhere on Coruscant with the Empire pursuing them…at least, she hoped they were. If the Empire had killed Lutryos, they could kill them too. Dav was with them, but what good would that be? He wasn’t Jedi. They had only met him a couple of years ago on Nar Shaddaa. His brother had been Jedi and so he was sympathetic to their cause. But he couldn’t possibly deal with the Empire and keep the remaining Jedi safe without Master Lutryos. He hadn’t even had combat training.

What did the Empire want with them? What did they believe a group of Force-sensitives with barely any training could offer? They certainly had no information. Lutryos refused to tell anything of any other Jedi or rebels. Daané wasn’t sure if that was for their protection, or because he did not know himself. It didn’t matter though. He was gone. She grit her teeth. Each time she recalled his death, anger grew in her throat. It burned as she slowly tried to extinguish it, reciting what she recalled of the Jedi Code.

She felt the cold grip of darkness inch up her spine and inched further into the corner. Her back pressed against the icy alusteel wall. Light footsteps echoed somewhere beyond the cell, growing louder by the second. She inhaled sharply, hoping it was not Viscretus. Or any Imperial. She realized the latter would never happen. She was in the heart of Coruscant.

Her hopes were shattered as the door’s lock mechanism clicked open, reverberating in the room. The door retracted into the ceiling, leaving the shadows of three people in the hallway. Daané bit her cheeks, trying to control the trembling that threatened to overtake her. They stepped into the room. She recognized the first figure instantly. It was exactly as she had feared. The Inquisitor had returned, an Imperial to each side of her. Viscretus stepped forward and looked down to her. Her robes were different now, a deep purple and black. An onyx belt cinched them at the waist, 'sabers dangling from four clips. The high collar shadowed her face, making her appear even more intimidating. She wore no cloak, just the thick floor length robes. The Imperials to either side – an auburn haired woman and a gruff, brown haired man – wore staunch uniforms in a complimentary shade of deep green.

Daané caught her eyes. Her irises were swirled with a blood red, tinged with a shocking yellow. The tendrils of darkness that had snaked up her spine began to constrict. She shuddered and tried to avoid meeting her gaze again. Her presence was oppressive. It was as though she radiated an unsettling blackness into every corner of the room.

“Jedi,” she hissed. Daané clenched her jaw even more tightly, feeling her skin break beneath her molars. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth. She ignored Viscretus and closed her eyes.

A gloved hand gripped her chin. It was freezing, somehow colder than the room. She had to brace herself to avoid reacting to the chill that resonated through her. Her eyes snapped open.

“There we are,” Viscretus said. Her smile was glacial. “I know who you are; there is no point in hiding it from me.”

Daané looked confusedly at her. Who I am?She wasn’t following the Sith’s accusations. She was Daané. At least, she had been last she checked.

“Are you going to ignore me? After I kindly preserved the lives of you and your…friends?”

Somewhere deep in her mind, relief sparked hearing that her friends were alive. But before she had a chance to relax even slightly, pressure began to build against her chest. She gasped for the next breath.

“I…don’t know what you mean!” she breathed, wishing her hands weren’t bound. Her chest was burning with the effort to breathe. It was as if the frigid room had been filled with acrid smoke. A cough racked her.

“Your futile attempts to act innocent won’t work with me,” the Sith snarled, “I have ways to get the information I need from you.”

She ignited her lightsaber. Blood red cascaded across the entire room. It glowed in Viscretus’ eyes. They were even more unsettling now. Daané wondered how many she had senselessly killed, how much blood was truly reflected in them. Viscretus tilted her head slightly, narrowing her eyes. The look was almost ravenous. It reminded Daané of a predator approaching its prey. She tried to avoid looking at the blade that hummed dangerously close to her. The hum grew deafening as the Inquisitor slunk forward.

Daané swallowed and shook her head fervently. A tendril of silvery hair fell across her orange face. She spoke evenly, but she knew her every muscle ebbed fear into the room.

“I don’t know anything, I am Daané Aurine. That’s it. I was born on Arkania, I lived on Coruscant my whole life. That’s it. I’m not who you’re looking for.”

Viscretus deactivated the ‘saber, then clasped her hands behind her back and paced. Each footstep sent a shiver through Daané.

“So your Master…is Lutryos, is it?” She snarled at the name.

“Was.” Daané shot back, “You killed him.”

“My apologies,” Viscretus said, pausing and turning her head to Daané. Her eyes swirled with annoyance. She narrowed them and looked the Arkanian Jedi up and down. “He told you absolutely nothing of your heritage?”

“Not a thing.” Daané shook her head again. It was as though the Inquisitor were speaking in riddles. She continued her pacing, appearing to be lost in thought.

“Let me ask you something, Daané.” The request was innocent enough, but coming from her, Daané had to fight the urge to shrink into the corner. “Have you ever heard of Rhen Var, of the Citadel?”

Daané thought for a moment. The names sounded familiar, but when she tried to imagine it…nothing. All she saw was emptiness. Her mind continued to race, trying to find the significance. Viscretus stopped and took two steps forward. Daané could see she still had four lightsabers clipped to her belt. Among them were her master’s and her own. She watched as they glistened in the light.

“Have you?” Viscretus’ tone was irritated now. She was growing more and more annoyed with the young woman. It seemed she couldn’t answer a simple question without thinking it through first.

“No,” Daané replied. Her eyes were on the ‘sabers clipped around her belt. She could feel the emotions running through the woman, even though her face was blank. She wanted the ‘sabers back, she wanted to escape. Viscretus smirked faintly.

“If you try anything, I guarantee you that neither you nor your friends will survive,” Viscretus said. She leaned forward, placing her hands on the walls to either side of Daané. Her mouth was turned into a sneer. “I will burn everything you hold dear.”

Daané’s eyes widened in shock for a brief moment before peeling away from the four ‘sabers. Her gaze still avoided Viscretus, settling somewhere in the far corner. She couldn’t bear to think of the others. For all she knew, they weren’t alive. The Empire certainly hadn’t spared Lutryos.

“Rhen Var is something your master should have taught you about,” Viscretus began, “Though I can’t say I anticipated honesty from a Jedi.”

Daané glared at her briefly. The Inquisitor could feel frustration roll off of her, ceasing as the Jedi gained control of her emotions. It would never do. Daané needed to lose control, to allow the words to cut her soul like knives. In time, she told herself. Viscretus had been through this many times before. There was only so long anyone could endure her breaking their illusions of reality.

“The Citadel is the history of your ancestors. It is not your history, however. It is a piece of your destiny.”

“I have no destiny,” Daané challenged, a burst of courage allowing her to look straight into Viscretus’ eyes. “Not while I am behind Empire lines.”

“That is where you are wrong. You are more valuable than you realize. Do you not wonder why your master never explained any of this to you? Do you not realize he was hiding your destiny from you and us?”

She smirked. Daané narrowed her eyes in response.

“You belong among us.”

“It is not my destiny. I am a Jedi.” Daané tried to control the rapidly growing storm within her. She was angry that the Inquisitor would dare stake a claim on her. She was her own person. She had given her life to the Jedi. She was not a tool of the Empire’s.

“A meagre two years of training does not make you a Jedi,” Viscretus replied curtly, “Especially training from a mere Knight.”

“I am a Jedi,” Daané dropped her feet to the ground and sat taller. There was no way she was going to let this Sith tell her what she was, nor discredit her master’s training. Lutryos, despite being a Jedi Knight, was one of the wisest people she knew. The Sith were nothing but a lie, a thin veil used by those with a thirst for blood and destruction.

“Can you not see, even now?” Viscretus chuckled softly. “Your master evidently taught you nothing, though I cannot say I am surprised.”

Daané clenched her teeth. The Sith’s constant mocking was making her blood boil. She could feel frustration nipping at the palms of her hands now. Her emotions were morphing into a tempest, one she could no longer control. How dare this Inquisitor openly disgrace Lutryos and her training? After she had killed him?

“You do not see it. You cannot see your own path. A path you are walking at this very moment, toward the Empire.”

Daané felt red hot anger erupt in her chest. “No!”

Viscretus revelled in it; the emotion that flooded from the young Arkanian was more powerful than she had anticipated. The Council was right about her.

“There is something else you should know.”

“I don’t want to hear anything from you. You are scum, like the rest of the Empire.”

“I’m hurt. Deeply.” Viscretus feigned sadness in her expression, wiping away a false tear. “I suppose the truth about your close friend is something else you were ‘protected’ from.”

“You know nothing of her. Nothing.” Daané spoke sharply. She could feel her hands curl into fists. The Jedi Code was a blur of words in her mind now. No matter how many times she repeated it, it could not staunch the rush of anger pouring into her mind. Her face burned.

“Oh but we do. Who do you think responded to the attack on an Imperial Academy? Certainly not the Republic.”

Daané grit her teeth. Her friend had gone missing 2 years ago after attending the Academy, before Daané had joined the Jedi sect. There was no attack. She had gone missing and was never found. The Sith was lying to her, trying to get a rise out of her. All she wanted was to see her potential for their cause. But she wouldn’t get that satisfaction. She let herself remember her friend, trying to seek comfort from the memory. Her smiling face, the curls of black hair surrounding her dark complexion, her kindness and loyalty. Daané exhaled slowly, soothed by the familiar face in her mind’s eye.

“You are naïve, aren’t you? You don’t believe me.”

“Why should I? All you have done is lied to me. My family was a clan of traders and warriors, who never left Arkania until my parents. I’ve never heard of Rhen Var. And now you claim to know what happened to my friend? Do you not have any shame?”

“The Emperor himself knows of you, of your lineage. There is nothing you can do to fight it. You are no Jedi. I can feel your anger, your passion. The emotions of a Sith.”

Daané felt the blood run from her face as the Inquisitor’s words set in. The Emperor himself. He knew of her. He knew everything about her – even the things she did not know. That wasn't possible.

“What lineage?” She was meek now. What could she do if the strongest person in the Galaxy wanted her as a part of his Empire?

“You belong to a bloodline of Sith, dating back thousands of years ago - one of a handful to remain unbroken since the Great Hyperspace War.”

Daané exhaled and shut her eyes. Her hands tried to break from the binders once again. There was no way any of this was true. The Inquisitor was definitely using it as a weapon against her. They were trying to get her to snap. Then they would be able to slip into her mind and discover where the Jedi sect had been hiding.

“None of this is true. You’re lying to me.”

“I assure you, it is very true. Believe what you must for now. But have you never wondered about your memories, your power? How they are different from the other Jedi?”

She ignored the question.

“I know you have. Anyone would. It’s only natural. But I am sure your master neglected to tell you about them… as they are not skills of a Jedi.”

Daané shook her head and wished she could cover her ears. She didn’t want to hear anything else from Viscretus. She did not want to see her face. Viscretus curled her lip and took a step forward, leaning close to the young Arkanian.

“You, you have more power than you realize. You are not just destined to become Sith. You are one of us.”

The cryptic sentence caught her attention. One of us? Of whom? She put her head down and looked to the floor.

“I will show you, Daané. You will understand. Whether you wish to or not.” The words were cold and unforgiving. “And your friend would have lived, would a group of Jedi not attacked the Academy.”

Viscretus spun on her heel and left through the doors, the two Imperials behind her. Daané fell back against the wall. She was lost. Her last words were a dagger in the deepest part of her heart. Everything she had been told seemed to be a lie. The Emperor couldn’t have known of her, she had spent her life in hiding. Far from the Empire’s grasp. Her parents had made sure of that. She could not be as powerful as anyone claimed, either. There was no way. Lutryos had not spent his time focussing on her. He had told her she would be a great asset, but nothing more. Despite Viscretus’ accusations, he was honest with them all. How could nobody have told her that her visions had significance, or that her friend had died in a Jedi attack? Why would anyone have hidden that from her? It didn’t make sense that the people she considered herself closest to would have betrayed her so deeply. She trusted them, and they trusted her with the truth. Or so she thought.

Now here she was. A Jedi destined to fall to the Dark Side? There was no sense to that. She did not want to be Sith, she did not want to be any part of the Empire. How could something be her destiny, how could her blood force her to become something she dreaded? She had seen herself as a bringer of peace. She had dreamed for years now she would become a famous Jedi, saving the Galaxy alongside the other remaining Jedi. Part of her still believed she would. After all, the Sith, the Dark Side was not known for truthfulness and helping others. From what her master had told her, they thrived on deception. Viscretus had not been friendly, either. Far from it. Would someone who threatened her be interested in her best interests? She ignored the implications from Viscretus’ statement earlier, that the Jedi would be the cause of her friend’s death. The Jedi were peaceful, preserving the Republic and working to restore it. They had been taught to stay hidden and never fight unless necessary. She had only seen the Empire bring death. She could not bring herself to believe that her friend was killed by the very cause she swore to uphold. She ignored a stab of grief as it ran through her heart. She welcomed the memories of her friend, but she scorned the memories of her death.

She pressed her head to the cool durasteel wall in frustration. Something told her that Viscretus was not lying entirely, though. She wanted to deny every word she had heard, but a twisting deep in her stomach warned her not to. The same instinct she had relied on for years. Daané clenched her fists together, ignoring as the binders bit into her skin. If Viscretus was right, if she was telling even a small part of the truth…What exactly was she?

 

Daané certainly has had her world view threatened! Sith specialize in half-truths and outright lies all mish-mashed together, slanted to get the gullible or vulnerable to fall into their clutches. You just can't take everything they say wholesale.