[fic] The Quest for Revan

[Darth_Yuthura]

You could introduce a few original characters if you don't care for the ones you already have. The game does revolve around interacting with a large party. Want some suggestions?

[Burnseyy]

I was planning on introducing my OCs sooner or later... just haven't given muuuch thought about it yet. I tend to plan one planet/mission at a time.

 

sure a few suggestions would be nice.

[Darth_Yuthura]

Diversity should be what you're aiming for. I find much more when everyone's in conflict with the others than functioning and cohesive. One character dilemma not done in KOTOR I/II is a wealthy individual. Perhaps the crew find a force sensitive person from a royal or privileged family. He may start out wanting to be a jedi and the Exile believes he could be a great asset for their cause... if he can convince him to accept selflessness as the way to be a jedi. Problems?

 

How about an individual who has learned to tap into the force, but uses his limited knowledge for personal gain. They come across and demonstrate how powerful he could be... only he has to get beyond using his gift for petty things. He may even be used for a special operations force in an army.

 

A deeply religious character. He already has his/her beliefs... so s/he doesn't accept jedi teachings very well. The Exile thinks s/he is progressing, but doesn't realize that his lessons were not being followed. S/he may kill others when they commit fairly minor crimes. By saying there must be no tolerance, that is the way to keep criminals from acting.

 

I would even suggest a family member without force abilities to come along because s/he is dependent on the one who is force-sensitive.

 

Just possibilities that might be considered.

[Burnseyy]

Thanks for the ideas.

I'm definitely looking into a Force Sensitive. Though, that might have to be after Mira's all trained up and a-ok, because training two people could become a burden.

[Darth_Yuthura]

Dear god, I keep expecting another chapter to emerge...

 

I'll be patient...

 

I know it'll come...

 

Just have to wait a little while longer...

 

Good things happen to those who wait...

 

Come on! When's the next chapter going to be posted?!

 

Just a joke, but you get the idea.

 

I'll be patient...

[Burnseyy]

Well I've written 2 1/2 pages of it so far... and I've only gotten 2 of 5 things out of the way. -.-;; it's going to be a long chapter. lol.

[TheExile]

Hm... But Burnseyy, you right a chapter, without knowing exactly what will happen in the next?

Cause before I start writing, I made a list of all significant characters, places and actions, and then I start adding more and more until I made a short version of the fic, then I start writing. Well of course I modified things while writing the chapters, but nothing significant...

[Burnseyy]

Quest for Revan

Chapter Six

Let's Dance

 

 

The previously acquainted Cantina was, on the most part, empty. Only a few characters were dotted about the miniature bar, observing as a band of Zultans strung their instrument’s beauty into a song, which, Darren considered to be very Onderon-inspired. The mellow, smoky atmosphere that had corrupted the room the night before had now washed into a sparkling, neon vibrancy that matched the glow of midday.

 

Darren had an incredible amount of questions to ask Mission, concerning Revan - the fact she was still alive and well, had been news to his ears, however, how and why she had been present on Ankus of all places in the Unknown Regions, was a complete mystery to him, especially after five years of being on her journeys... and the curiosity was ebbing away. All the while, the favour he had agreed to seemed to be getting more and more complex as time dragged on - he was only glad Mira had offered to 'help out.'

 

The group dropped into four astonishingly comfortable seats, located besides a particularly low based table. It was a nice change, to see such a down beaten bar cleansed of it's night crawlers - now, there was air to breathe, and Mira most certainly appeared calmed and collected, which was a stark contrast from their preceding visit. Darren's eyes were brought upon Mission, whom was glancing about the room as if to check whether they had been followed, and returned her attention to the group.

 

"Okay, so, he's not here now," Mission uttered, her face pale. "No surprise - it's kind of boring at these times. He should be arriving with his big group of drinking buddies, in an hour or so... if not, then he'll be easier pickings for us, because he'll be alone."

 

"How, may I ask, do you know if this Iriz Kung will partake in accompanying his friends, tonight?" Visas interjected, rearranging her headdress. "He may be on duty or simply ill from the night before..."

 

"Oh don't you worry - he's been coming here ten consecutive days," Mission sneered, humoured by the zabrak's desperation for intoxicants. “He’s addicted to this stuff - I’m surprised Jekko-Domn hasn’t fired the schutta.”

 

Darren drank this in, considering any possible flaws with the plan. He leant his head against a half hearted fist, on the table, and exhaled a great batch of air. Brushing a strand of hair from his face, he looked up. “The only problem I see with this, is that Iriz catches on, and tries to attack either or us, or tricks us. Then again, Visas,” he nodded to the woman clad in scarlet robes, “will be reading his mind, to check for any bursts of emotion or sly thoughts. I suggest we wait until this zabrak is completely intoxicated by the drinks - it’ll act as a truth serum, and he won’t be able to concentrate for more than two seconds, to hatch a scheme.”

 

The three women nodded, the sound of men in the background chugging back their beverages in haste. Darren noticed the ex Bounty Hunter staring at him, and so he gazed back. She had chosen her usual purple eye shadow for this evening, and it glistened brilliantly against the disco backdrop. He could sense something was troubling her, and he figured it had some relevance to the task she had practically been coerced into, despite the fact she agreed.

 

“I’m going to eh... freshen up, or something,” Mira mumbled, and retreated from her coordinated chair, striding away, in a swift motion, towards the restroom on the foremost side of the Cantina.

 

Without hesitation, Darren stood to full alert and pursued her, his footsteps clattering in sync to hers against the marble floor. When he eventually caught up to her speed, he placed a prompt hand on her nearest shoulder, causing her to nonchalantly inch about, ultimately ending in her facing him. The redhead blinked, evidently inquisitorial as to why he had followed.

 

"Is there something you want to talk about?" He finally mustered the voice to speak, and retracted his grip on her.

 

"If I had something to say, I'd tell you," Mira replied, in a sincere manner. There was no expression imprinted onto her face; in fact, it was quite vacant, which Darren passed off as thoughtful, or perhaps effective lying. Even her thoughts were somewhat intact - her emotions were unreadable, yet still, she abandoned the facade and spoke: "Well, it's nothing serious, if that's what you're thinking."

 

The Exile gave a warm smile, made a head gesture, in direction of the back entrance. "Want to talk, outside?" In truth, besides wanting to know what was troubling her, he wished to ask questions about just how she wanted to be trained in the Force. There was little time to consider such things, especially due to the fact that Iriz Kung would be arriving in moments to come, however, time like this would be hard to come by, throughout the rest of the mission.

 

With a brief nod, the two approached the exit, and stepped into the dome that surrounded all life on Ankus. The section was cut off from civilisation with the dome's 'corners', bearing the resemblance of a yard, or a neat sum of land. Amongst this, were two seating areas, stretched as far away from each other as physically possible, and unused, or presumably unwashed pint glasses propped about them. The sun glare had been blocked out almost entirely, by the encasing protection layer, though nonetheless, an intensifying heat still penetrated it, and focused it's unmatchable strength against the land, before them. The back entranceway was clearly unkempt and avoided, but queries needed to be met.

 

Darren and Mira discovered a plot of shadow besides the seating area on the right, and retreated to it, instantaneously. Darren was the first to talk: "You alright with the task, then?"

 

Mira's eyes widened, and an expression of entertainment was brought over her features. "Oh, yeah, I love seducing zabraks. It’s my pride and joy,” she exhaled, tremendously. “He’s a slimy Crime Lords lackey - and he’s a zabrak. Not even human - nothing is ’alright’ about what I have to do...” she broke into a whisper, “why did I agree with this again?” despite her protests, a smile played across her lips. In response to this, the Exile raised a brow in question.

 

“You thought about how you’re going to...” Darren grinned exceptionally wide, too, “’seduce’ Iriz Kung?” In spite of the fact his companion appeared somewhat frustrated about the predicament, he couldn’t help but find it amusing. Always, Mira had ranted on about how she was so in control of men, and such... now he would actually get to percieve it, instead of hearing unsupported words.

 

The ex Bounty Hunter leant her back, nonchalantly against the outer Cantina wall, one foot propped up against it’s surface, as she gazed upwards into the ever-expanding light. “Thought I’d disrobe a little...” Darren noticed her speech pace quicken, “y’know, bit more revealing than this mop of a robe. Then I thought I’d use some cheesy, yet very effective Nar Shaddaa chat-up lines. Got me loads of places, back on the smugglers moon... Hoping he’ll buy ‘me’ a few drinks, which I’ll end up giving to him... that’ll guarantee he’ll be intoxicated---”

 

“What if the poor zabrak wants a kiss?” Darren could not restrain himself - he snickered aloud, which earned himself a death glare from the redhead.

 

“If that nerf-herder of a hornless zabrak even dares anything like that, consider the mission aborted,” she muttered, her tone rising slightly. “And if you break that fight up, you’ll never hear the end of it, ‘security guard.’” Silence draped the two companions, like a silky sheet, allowing a moment of musings to pass between them. Finally, she found words: “Are you alright with the whole Handmaiden incident, yet?”

 

Darren felt as if a landslide had just taken place, in the pit of his stomach. His throat immediately dried up, and the sensation of his head expanding hit him, at an intense rate. Even, now, his heartbeat had spiralled out of control, and was pumping the blood throughout his body so quickly, he could feel his chest throbbing. Why does the mere mention of Brianna do this to me? He pondered, his surroundings spinning.

 

I loved her, I still do, and Kreia took everything; my dignity, my friends, and Brianna... Yes, I'm absolutely Sithspitting fine. The sarcasm that circled his mind was not expressed aloud, however. Instead, he quickly mumbled: “I don’t want to talk about it.” and spun about on his heel, his mode of address diverted from that of Mira. He could sense her concern, but he made nothing of it. The hurt he was experiencing presently was enough to overwhelm him, let alone being read like an open book, profile wise. “I’ve got to get back inside anyway - you ‘disrobe’ and, uh...” he searched his cranium for anything reassuring to convey. “try not to kill him too much.” These were not what he had insisted on... "After this whole favour we're doing for Mission, I'll teach you something of the Force..."

 

With no further ado, Darren lead way back into the bar area, and repositioned himself into his prior seat. He found Visas sitting on her own, with Mission at the bar conversing with one of the bartenders, her lekku eccentrically arranged about her head. He sighed, his eyes growing weary; heavy. This feeling is horrible... why did I have to become so attached to someone? This is exactly what the Jedi mean when you can’t give into love... he thought, his hand rounded into a fist.

 

“Something troubles you - I can sense it,” the Miraluka uttered in her usual wispy tone. He did not appreciate his mind being intruded on habitually, ideally when he merely wanted to be quiet of mind and think. Think without interruptions. I shouldn’t take it out on her, though, he pondered, recalling his previous outburst with Mira, on Dantooine. He decisively chose to remain silent. “There is something that I never truly ... agreed with the Jedi on... And that was the restraint of emotions. I believe that if there is something that needs to be said; to be done, then why deny it? If the Force has brought it upon you, then is it not ironic that you should remain silent?”

 

“You couldn’t possibly comprehend,” Darren replied, realising seconds after, that this retort had been wholeheartedly foolish. Losing a loved one was a difficult concept, but losing an entire species, an entire home was another concept in itself. "I'm sorry... of- of course you understand. I'm merely thinking."

 

Visas' hand crept across the tables surface, and fell atop his. Darren gradually lifted his gaze from his hazel, leather boots, to the woman beside him. His thought process slowed to a halt. "It has been a vast amount of time, since you meditated. I use such means to draw strength, to untangle dilemmas that provoke my mind. Perhaps something similar would ease you, also?" Her hand drifted away from his.

 

"Meditation can't solve love, Visas," Darren resounded. "But it doesn't matter; there's time for this after we've retrieved the information on Revan. Hopefully it'll be soon."

 

"Perhaps meditation cannot solve love," Visas interposed, a beautiful smile floating onto her lips. Darren would have considered it almost cunning; mischievous. "But love surely solves love."

 

Darren shifted slightly in his seat, observing his companion with earnest, as equivocal thoughts prodded at his brain. He was uncertain as to what exactly the statement could signify; was she proposing the two of them hooked up? He blinked, his mouth now marginally ajar. Casting his mind back to time spent on the Ebon Hawk, simple moments before he had come face to face with Nihilus, he recalled Visas declaring she loved him. It could have been insinuating that her love was similar to that of a strong Force Bond between Master and Apprentice; or perhaps leader and follower... though he never interpreted this.

 

“Do not be mislead,” she spoke, graciously. “What ever exposition you hold of this, it is somewhat false. I have observed your movements, seen you through your emotions, the way in which the Force envelopes you, and you seem very much attached to the past, to us you travel with now” Darren wished to intercept the conversation, to put forth an enquiry, yet Visas pushed her speech onwards: “You respected the Handmaiden, you loved her, I could sense it in every footstep you took, in every breath you drew, as the time on the Ebon Hawk came to a close. It was true and clear what you felt, and it was to all those around you.

 

“You care for the Bounty Hunter, do you not? Perhaps I am merely confused, or my mind... tricks me... Time may not heal your wounds, but care for others may."

 

“What on Coruscant are you talking about?” Darren retorted, his face a mixture of confusion and fury. How dare she compare my feelings for Brianna to my friendship with Mira? “Friendship is different to what I felt for Brianna. And I also lost many friendships on Malachor V... one doesn't replace that."

 

“I’m sorry If I offended you,” Visas’ head bowed a tad, in respect. “Though, you also must understand... this mission, for me, is a sacrifice. I am doing this, because I know you will lead us to a greater fate. I just wished I had spoke of this sooner, for I feel that the Force is telling me to turn away from where I am headed. The Unknown Regions was not where I had intended to venture... and I think despite the fact I wanted to accompany you on this mission, you knew that.”

 

Darren gazed at Visas, guilt rolling over his body. “Kreia foresaw that you would return to Katarr one day, in the near future... I guess I didn’t know what to believe, since Kreia was difficult to trust, after the incident...” he looked away, utterly ashamed at his actions. He had taken the one thing Visas could possibly have wanted from him, and ignored it. Ignored it, just like he had done everyone else. Perhaps overcoming his love for Brianna would counteract these mistakes. “I want you to return to Katarr... but I don’t know how or when.”

 

“Then perhaps at the end of all of this strife, we can return to Katarr together,” the scarlet robed woman suggested, her ‘gaze’ down upon her hands, which caressed the table. “When all worry is gone.”

 

The Exile slouched back in his chair with a sincere nod, brushing a hand through his hair, and from his face. How the miraluka had come to the conclusion of love, he knew not. He was too concerned with the loss of Brianna to even consider loving someone else. Though, learning that the guilt of restricting Visas from finding center on Katarr had been known to her from the beginning, shamed him. How could I do such a thing? Closing his eyes, he listened peacefully to the serene music that drifted about the Cantina. It was almost like a dream, time cascading before him, as the notes played and bore into his perceptions. His body fell numb, unmoving, as the sound muffled into nothingness. He was alone on a plane of calmness, of inner strength. He fell into a waking sleep, one he had almost forgotten.

 

Meditation did wonders.

 

~

 

It hadn’t taken long for Darren to use Force Persuade on the security guards, located on the exterior ground of the Cantina, tell them to walk with Mission and him around the back of the building out of view, and put up no manner of fight, when they knocked them unconscious. After this procedure had gone underway, the twi’lek and he took their uniforms, hiding their bodies discretely in a nearby dumpster, and resumed their roles, on the interior of the bar. In addition, due to the fact that Mission was already employed here, it made it that much easier to convince other staff members that Darren was a new recruit. The plan was foolproof.

 

The suns were deprecating behind the eastern planes, and with it, brought lively aliens, mostly cragmoloids. Time stretched out into distance, as the young twi’lek and he guarded the area. He had no doubt that they had unintentionally let a younger audience into the Cantina because telling a child cragmoloid apart from an adult, was almost impossible.

 

Visas was in her place, hovering about the Cantina, awaiting the arrival of Iriz Kung, and once he had decided on a location to kick back, she would hide in the shadows, near to him, and concentrate wholly on his thought stream. Mira was out of sight, preparing for the task, and the second the zabrak made an entranced, she would watch and wait, until she presumed the timing was right to commence the operation. Meanwhile, Mission and Darren would be on the door, observing closely to check for signals from Visas, or any fights. They had thought the difficulties through, thoroughly, and now it was only a matter of ‘wait and see.’

 

A new batch of arrivals ambled through the Cantina doors - three cragmoloids, a human and a zabrak. Darren swung his vision to that of Mission, and was returned with a whispered answer: “that’s Iriz, the zabrak right there...”

 

They eyed as the Crime Lord’s right hand man belayed his stride by the bar. Seconds, minutes passed, and he snatched up three pint glasses containing a dim blue liquid, marching merrily over to his 'friends', whom had gathered about the twi'lek dancers, who had replaced the Zultan band on stage. A boisterous roar emerged from the group, as one of the dancers performed an extremely obnoxious spin, dropped, gracefully, to their head level, and back up to full height, again, with her dance partners.

 

There was an air to the room that reminded Darren of Coruscant’s nightlife, in spite of the fact he had never partook in anything quite so deceptive, in his life. On the contrary, the Mandalorian Wars were the only obstacles that caused trouble between the Jedi Council and he. If it were not for that, his Exile would not have existed, for he abided by the Jedi Code quite neatly... at least, before his Exile. Now that was over, the rules were out of the window... to a certain extent, anyway.

 

Smoke had risen into the air, clouding his vision a slight, as he tried to make out the silhouettes in the furthest background, and check whether Mira had sprung from her hiding place. Music was beating, loud and exciting; the Cantina had transformed into more of a rave than a quiet drinking spot - Darren did not know Ankus had it in itself. After some time of squinting into the darkening, dimly lit scene, he spotted Visas. She was in place, sitting metres behind the crude group of drinkers and Iriz Kung. Everything was set... now it was time for the task to commence, fully. Darren figured a few more drinks would allow the Crime Lord’s right hand man to become drunk enough to fall for any information Mira attempted to drag out of him, yet time was of the essence.

 

The two ’security guards’ waited patiently in silence, Darren’s lightsaber hidden cautiously away, under the folds of the uniform, to ensure that his cover was not blown. Any ordinary security guard wielding a Jedi tool would seem a little too strange to be true. An hour must have passed, before any sign of dizziness was seen in Iriz Kung, and at that point, the redheaded companion materialised amongst the mist, staff and socialisers. Darren stared, somewhat humoured.

 

Her outer robe had been removed, leaving her green Jedi apparel leggings, boots and her much remembered, aquamarine 'top', which she had frequently worn before returning to Dantooine after the defeat of Kreia. Her eyes were drastically dramatic, and her lips stood out much more, due to the application of make up. Whether drunk or not, if Iriz Kung did not fall for this facade, Darren did not know what he would fall for. He did realise he could have used Force Persuade on the zabrak, but with his friend, or thugs, dotted around, chances would be low for an easy escape.

 

Mira strode forth, confidently, eventually arriving at Iriz’s table, and she leant herself suggestively against it’s surface. Staring into the zabrak’s eyes, a mischievous grin marched up her fair toned face. Darren spotted their lips moving - speech had commenced, though he could not make out any sound that exited their mouths. It was a good thing Visas had accompanied him on the quest, otherwise comprehending what was occurring between the two would have been near impossible.

 

The Exile watched as the redhead began stroking the horns on his head, the zabrak in complete awe, gawping at the woman. Mission was right... this guy is weak of mind... he mused in response to Iriz's adoring deadpan features. What ever Mira was saying, it was having an effect... Perhaps Nar Shaddaa chat up lines were successful... though he wondered resentfully what they could be. The moon was known for it's dirty little secrets - it even had it's own Pazaak game named after it...

 

Seconds passed. Minutes passed. It felt like an hour, standing at the door in silence, as Mission and Darren waited patiently for Mira to squeeze the information from her 'target', before the zabrak and Mira stood, his arm around her waist, and her expression displaying a particularly sour look. They sauntered into the back exist, away from view, and when Darren skipped his vision to Visas, the signal he received was one which insinuated success. Darren contemplated that she had taken Iriz into the back room to pull him away from prying eyes, such as his lackeys, in the event of them eavesdropping. If this was so, the plan was quite literally foolproof.

 

"What d'you suppose those two are getting up to, back there?" Mission snickered, making a head gesture, which pointed to the back exit.

 

Darren furrowed his brows, peering down at the young twi'lek. "What?"

 

"She might have to pull out the 'full artillery' to get information outta' Iriz," she muttered, making sure her voice only reached Darren's ears, amongst the backdrop of alien clubbers. "He may be completely brain dead, but he likes to know he has a girl, before he says anything..."

 

"How do you know that?" Darren queried, now concerned for the likes of his prior Bounty Hunting companion.

 

"Hey, don't get smart with me," Mission retorted, pulling a face of disgust at the Exile. "I've been watching him for weeks, remember? Jeez, you Jedi and your questions..."

 

In spite of the fact that this sounded rather defence, Darren shrugged it off, and waited for Mira to reveal herself from the backroom. Visas had now hovered over to the bar, and ordered a drink for herself, however did not drink it. A good cover up, to listen to what was going on, next door. The three cragmoloids and the human male still remained in their seats, roaring and wolf whistling at the twi'lek dancers, on stage. If this was the best Jekko-Domn had to offer, then persuading him to lift the debt from Mission would not be too difficult, all things considered.

 

Moments later, Mira came power walking from the back exit, Visas trailing behind her, and stopped abruptly before Darren. She spoke in haste: "Got the information, but we've got to leave immediately."

 

She tried to barge past, to escape through the door, however was halted by Darren. He stared down at her, his heart beating a tad quicker than usual. Had the plan gone wrong? "Why do we have to leave immediately? What's happened?"

 

"I got the information, but then the bantha brain asked why I wanted to know..." Mira paused, glancing swiftly about the Cantina. "He didn't believe what I said..."

 

Mission piped up, interest peeking, "What did you say?"

 

"I said being the henchman of a Crime Lord was sexy, especially when they're rich and famous..." she broke off, the same distasteful look about her, as earlier. Silence corrupted the air, with a hint of hilarity about it, yet it was cut short. "Anyway, let's leave - we don't want trouble, right?"

 

"I agree," Visas said, nodding eagerly. "Let us go."

 

However, it was too late. Out of the corner of his eyes, Darren noticed the human and cragmoloids rising out of their seat, a specifically ticked off Iriz Kung glaring daggers in his direction, blasters in their grasp. Darren's eyes widened, as he saw them trudging over, grunts of anger rippling through the air.

 

In reflex, Darren darted out of the Cantina, waving his hand to indicate his companions to follow, and they obeyed. The thugs and Iriz Kung pursued, sprinting at their full velocity. Now outside the Cantina, the four friends whipped themselves around just in time to deflect blaster fire from their attackers with an ignited lightsaber. Darren's radiated with a green glow, Mira's yellow, and Visas' blue. Mission dropped to the ground, to dodge the laser, and instantaneously rebounded to her feet, an blaster carbon at the ready. They combatants stood, distance between them, in utter silence. Iriz Kung stared on at Mira, his fists clenched powerfully about a crossbow.

 

"Let's dance," uttered Iriz, and without warning, blaster fire reinstated itself into the battle, and Darren charged forth, deflecting the blasts with his lightsaber, and the odd dodge. Luckily not many civilians were in the area, and those who were kept their distance. Once Darren came into arms length of the opposing man, he performed a Roundhouse kick, knocking the weapon from his hands, and bashed him to the ground, unconscious, with a swift punch to the face.

 

He noticed a blaster shot from Mission had already taken out a cragmoloid, and Visas and Mira were taking on the other two, whilst Iriz aimed for the twi'lek. Running forth, Darren swung his lightsaber about, full circle, the vibrations sounding through the air, and sliced through the bow caster, with one clean cut. This caused the zabrak to drop it, his hands evidently scorched from the attack, and stared long and hard at Darren, before he was kicked to the ground, with a tremendous crack to the head. He, too, fell unconscious.

 

The Exile peered up at Mira, Visas and Mission. They had taken out both of their attackers, on that second, and Mission gave the final blow to the already unconscious alien body, with a harsh "Serves you right, murglak!"

 

Darren approached the women, and exhaled, retracting his lightsaber, and tucking it away under the folds of cloth that was the borrowed uniforms. His companions mimicked this, whilst Mission simply blew the eye of the gun, coolly, spinning it about her finger and tucked it into her belt. Nodding, the four set off towards Mission’s apartment to discuss what information had been retrieved... and where to go from there.

 

-----

 

 

finally, it's done! when I finished this, I made a 'squee' sound. >_>;

 

Anyway, obviously, where it says "I" or "We", out of dialogue, it's Darren thinking. There's just so many places where it's italics and I can't be bothered going through and putting [ I ] etc. in. So forgive me for that.

 

Hope you enjoyed.

[TheExile]

What do you mean it's over??? The fic IS OVER???? THIS CAN'T BE!!!!

[Burnseyy]

What do you mean it's over??? The fic IS OVER???? THIS CAN'T BE!!!!

 

no, the chapter's over lol

sorry for the confusion ;

[Rev7]

hehe.

 

Very nice job with the chapter. Very well done, and very well thought out.

[Burnseyy]

'hehe'?

 

thank you! if there's any way to improve future chapters in reference to this, please say.

[Darth_Yuthura]

I can't believe the level of detail... no wonder it took you so long!

[Burnseyy]

you read that quick!

 

and I thought I'd gotten rid of half of the detail. God, I need a little more faith in myself.

 

thank you!

[Darth_Yuthura]

I said it before, but I'll say it again... Your attention to detail seems to transcend the standard fan-fiction. You seem to articulate every detail that I wouldn't think of if I were imagining the scene. I just can't conjure the wealth of words you used in the fight scene... it's just something I can't describe.

 

I'd have to use a thesaurus in order to try and duplicate your writing with the level of action you used. Dialog is one thing, but you have a masterful talent for articulation. The more I see of your work, the more I appreciate the talent you have. This is something else and I see why you wanted to perfect the chapter.

[HIGH ON PIE 14]

you read that quick!

 

and I thought I'd gotten rid of half of the detail. God, I need a little more faith in myself.

 

thank you!

 

Gotten rid of half the detail?! Good lord Burnseyy!...anyway, I loved this chapter. As DY said, the amount of detail, is stunning. Something I think I need more of when I write. I love how well thought out the plan between the four was. Made this chapter very realistic. I do use a thesaurus and you still have better words. The ncantina atmosphere was great!

 

Mission twirling her gun at the end was a nice touch. You have been busy Burnseyy! Haha, thank God the fic is not over. Excellent work!

 

-HOP

[TheRonto]

I'm a lurker obviously, I read everything though...

 

My only beef is that sometimes the turns of phrase are awkward to read. Same thing for some of the descriptive word choices. That's all I see except for some grammatical errors. It's an interesting storyline, looking forward to the rest!

[TheExile]

New chapter in line pls!

Waiting makes me wanna re-read the other chapters, and that's not good for me cause I never re-read a book:xp:

[Burnseyy]

Quest For Revan

Chapter Seven

Moving Forward

 

 

Once Darren and his companions had returned to Mission's rundown apartment, Mission hastily and cautiously slammed the door behind them, bolting the door tight with at least three locks. She even, additionally, propped a chair up against the door, which he figured would prevent any eyewitnesses of the scrap outside the Cantina, from barging in. Breathing in relief, the group dropped into three half fixed seats, the blue twi'lek deciding on the block hard bed, that Mira had slept in earlier, for comfort. She too, exhaled contently, closing her eyes peacefully.

 

Usually, street brawls would not have worried Darren in the slightest, however, the fact that they were attempting to remain undetected by the apparent Jekko-Domn was vital, and being discovered by his cronies, before the deed had been accomplished would have set the crew back for days... Maybe even weeks. Moreover, Mission appeared terrified, or at least prepared to be swallowed up by the floor at any moment, despite her burst of confidence during the fight. What a contrast... he thought to himself, studying the young twi'lek, carefully.

 

Visas and Mira, too, appeared troubled. Darren sensed that the miraluka's disturbance had materialised from the somewhat interesting conversation that had occurred prior to any action, whereas the huntresses extended from the utter humiliation that had transpired between the zabrak, Iriz, and her. In spite of all of this, Darren could not help but feel good about himself... perhaps pride... and maybe that were not the Jedi way, but his care for that code had degenerated years ago, as he passed into his exile. Nonetheless, the self pleased thought stream could not be prevented - as he knew that he was now getting somewhere with the search for Revan, and the possible True Sith.

 

I’m not sure whether the True Sith are as true a threat as Kreia said, but Admiral Carth told me before I left that Revan had in fact, left for the Unknown Regions to fight... something, Darren pondered, his eyes flitting between the awkwardly silent trio of women. At least we’re getting there, and Revan knows what we’re up against... If we find her, then that will mean one less problem... and then the real fight can begin.

 

Visas was the first to speak, “That interruption was most unpleasant... I am just glad that we escaped before it could escalate to something more,” her headdress was bowed forward, in direction of Darren, almost as if she were declaring an apology. He raised a brow in question. “at least we obtained the information... yes?”

 

Attention was now passed over to Mira, who wore a distasteful and an unsympathetic mask. Her shoulders raised, and fell, half-heartedly into a shrug, her lack of clothing now increasingly apparent to everyone who sat in the room. Darren even took note that her left sleeve was torn... something that hadn’t occupied his sights, earlier. Had that taken place in the fight or...?

 

“Oh, I got the information, alright,” the redhead grunted, “And I thought Nar Shaddaa was bad... Mission was right, Iriz Kung is a dirty son-of-a-kath-hound,” at this, Mission giggled, and nodded in agreement, evidently comprehending Mira’s statement. “Anyway... yeah, I know where Jekko-Domn is,” she sent a stunningly cruel glare into Darren’s eyes, and he braced for the catch, “but to get that information, I expect a thanks.” Nothing is easy with this woman... Darren sighed.

 

“Thank you, Mira,” he uttered, sincerely, grinning at her simple turmoil. “Without you, Iriz wouldn’t have said a thing.” Mira nodded in approval at his possibly fake or true gratitude, caring none for which it was, and turned to Mission.

 

“Anyway, yeah I got the information," the group leant in, ears open and minds alert for any consequence or possible false information. It was tremendously significant that they would not believe what Iriz had uttered, simply to fall into a cunningly laid trap. Darren doubted that the zabrak would have been able to evade Mira's tactics, especially under the influence of intoxicants. Nonetheless, he had been surprised countless times in the past, and preparation was something he had come to terms with, long ago. "Jekko-Domn's created himself a large underground base, which can be found by travelling to compound K and walking down a trapdoor located in the Sun Stream Restaurant... I think it's called..."

 

Mission blinked as her mouth dropped into what appeared to be a look of disbelief. "The Sun Stream Restaurant?" she enquired, leaning back in a defeated manner against the dampened and murky wall, which the bedside occupied. "No... No, he must've been lying - he must've." Darren shot a glance at her, and back, to address Mira with a meaningful and concentrated stare. He was drunk... how could he have tricked her? Especially with Visas around the corner? Darren pondered, curiosity spiralling about his mind. Before he could come to a conclusion, however, Mission pressed on: "I've been down there before, with Zalbaar. We were hiding from a bunch of Jekko-Domn's cronies, so we just ran in the nearest thing to us - the Sun Stream Restaurant.

 

"We quickly escaped down into the trap door without notice from the staff, and found an underground corridor that went on for miles..." her hazel eyes bore deep into the floor, her face scrunched up in thought as she tried to recall the memory. The Exile knew that more lay beyond what had been uttered from Mira's lips, yet, but he listened intently to the young twi'lek. "So we followed it, hoping it'd lead out somewhere - we came to a dead end. There's nothing down that tunnel, Mira. He's played you for a gizka."

 

"Actually, that cantina rat said there's a hidden passage somewhere in the tunnel," Mira's eyes darted about the shadow ridden apartment, restless in her seated position as if the adrenaline from the battle, earlier, was still pumping through her veins. Darren took a haste mental note of this, wonderfully intrigued as to whether it was the Force's act upon her, or merely her typical craving for something to do. He motionlessly shook his head back to focus and listened. "Jekko-Domn's based is hidden with a stealth field generator, which covers the entire complex... if I had to guess, the 'secret passage' is also cloaked with a similar device, if not the same, and is guarding any staff members of the Sun Stream Restaurant from finding it."

 

Darren quickly interjected into the discussion, a realisation hitting him square across the face. "How would Jekko-Domn have managed to build a secret base, whilst the only entrance is through this restaurant? The staff would have noticed... wouldn't they? There's no way it could have worked... Unless..." A wave of eerie and awkward silence washed over the apartment, feeding the anxiousness and doubt of all characters contained within it. The Exile knew the answer, but he was unsure as to whether Mission knew it, too... if not, his problems would become two fold. After seconds, seeming like hours, no one replied, and so he continued: "Mission, do you know who owns the Sun Stream Restaurant?"

 

"No... The only time I've even visited that place, is that one time with Zalbaar... I only saw the staff members - a load of makurth and humans," Mission responded, her voice now hoarse and inward. "But if Jekko-Domn was going to build a secret base, down there... he would have needed time... If the restaurant had always been there, it wouldn't make sense, but..."

 

As Mission trailed off into a train of thought, hope lighting up across the entirety of her features. Darren finished her sentence for her: "But if Jekko-Domn had gotten there first, it would only be a matter of cloaking his complex from the manager of the Sun Stream Restaurant."

 

"But you're forgetting, Darren," Visas spoke her fluently beautiful words. The influence of her voice never failed to coerce his attention to her... though, this did not stem from love or desire, but mere interest and admiration for her peaceful demeanour, in spite of past troubles. She had truly overcome any obstacles that lay in her wake, and the truth of her voice was evidence enough, of this. "The trap door would surely have been spotted by staff of this restaurant... the pattern you have woven makes little sense, unless the manager already has knowledge of the Crime Lord's hideaway."

 

"Yeah, you're right," Darren admitted, coursing a hand through his head of mouse tinted hair, though he wasn't prepared to give in, just yet. "It may sound farfetched," the three women raised their heads to his attention, "but the manager of the restaurant may have struck a deal with Jekko-Domn... it would certainly explain why no one has found him, before."

 

"You might be onto something, Exile," Mira murmured, briskly. She now stood, pacing about the apartment, as if worry had set in motion. Her robes, despite there being no breeze, nor outside interference, danced about around her feet, as she halted and brought her gaze upon Mission. "D'you reckon that's likely?"

 

"Actually, Ankus is rougher than it looks," the twi'lek answered, her tone now louder and clearly free of anxiety. Darren could sense her emotions falling tame and in tact, which showed a marvellous juxtaposition to when the dilemma had first arisen. He could even see it in her face - but in her expression, an excitement could be told... perhaps this was the resolution to their woes. "There's secret organisations around every corner, and thugs frequent to the Cantina. It ain't ideal to live here, but I'm glad I didn't stupidly drop myself off on a barren world - I'd be half bored to death."

 

"So it's settled?" Darren piped up, only partly convinced that the information Iriz had given was correct. "We should visit the Sun Stream Restaurant and check out the characters in that place... Mission, you could direct us to the trap door... As for how we're going to disable that stealth field generation is another thing - we'll need to prepare, just in case this is the place we're meant to go," he paused to allow any interruptions, before continuing. He didn't want confusion to land itself upon his crew, and the twi'lek in need. "Rest up, we'll set off when the Restaurant is likely to open - it's too late, now, I'm betting."

 

"Actually," Mission said, stretching her arms out, in a relaxing manner. "That restaurant is an ongoing thing. The staff consists of makurth and humans... nocturnal and diurnal. We don’t have to wait ’til morning... we could just go when we saw fit.” her eyes span about their sockets, from Darren, past Mira, to Visas and back, like she was searching for approval in the expressions of the people she had quickly come to befriend. “I’d be prepared to leave tonight... that’s if any of you are. I just want to get this weight off my shoulder, but I’ll understand if you need more time.”

 

“Is that a challenge?” Mira enquired rhetorically, a smirk inching it’s way up her face, as she sat back, nonchalantly, against the torn down stool. Her arms crossed, defiantly, emitting an aura of eagerness into the air. Mission sure knows her reverse psychology, Darren mused, a grin now matching that of the prior huntress’. Nothing more needed to be uttered, amongst the companions - the threat of captivity on the blue twi’lek’s behalf needed to be severed instantly, and hanging about would only delay the inevitable - they had to act, and Darren knew this.

 

“We’ll set out in an a standard hour.”

 

~

 

The others were situated inside, readying themselves to venture out, once more. Mira and Visas had returned to the Phoenix, so that Mira could change from her torn rags, and Visas could acquire a series of heavy blaster rifles, in case of immediate disarming... the young twi'lek also required a new weapon, for her blaster carbon ammunition was on a decrease. She did not have the spares necessary to power it back up.

 

Darren, however, had found himself on the recently discovered balcony of Mission's apartment. It extended out from the bedroom, hidden behind curtains of which the opaqueness was absolute. He needed time to sit back and evaluate what had happened since Kreia's death on Malachor... time without interruption from a caring team mate, or distraction due to the necessity of restoring the order. He had very little time to conform to this, nonetheless, as a half of their preparation time had been consumed, merely by discussing who needed what for the task.

 

He also needed... not wanted, but needed time to think on the woman whom he had lost to a foolish other, who dreamt illusions of equality. Brianna was long gone, escalading to an emotion he thought he had left behind, during the Mandalorian War - grief. He could sense it in his companions, that they held little patience for his bouts of anguish... and he too was growing weary of it's undoubtedly grave effects on him. He could not allow his judgement to become clouded with the loss of a loved one; many had died that day, but nothing tore his heart more than recalling Brianna's last words to him.

 

'I am the last of the Handmaidens, no more... I am Brianna... Take everything you have learned... and go. Your fate is not here...'

 

The words seemed to echo across his mind, giving way to a weakening that had broken through his strong front, on Dantooine, and similarly, now. It was no good - he could not let himself become weighed down with the memory of the woman he had loved. It's a cruel thing... love... it torments you, even after the person has gone... even after all ties from the person have vanished, love still remains... Darren thought, cursing to himself, under his breath. Killing Kreia brought nothing, either... It only brought a false hope, a doubt, and more distraction...

 

Darren could feel the familiar tightening of his chest, as he resisted the urge to let his emotions run and wreak havoc on his entirety. He clenched his fist into an unbreakable ball, attempting to coerce the sensation of hopelessness and loss from his body, with brute force. If he had not ceased, his hand may well have drawn blood... but this was not what he wanted; not what he desired. I just want you back... I just wish I could go back... I just wish I could have been there quicker - not chased after Kreia, only to be lead into a trap. She manipulated you, caused you grief... you didn't deserve that in your final hours.

 

Exhaling, greatly, he brought his gaze across the far stretched compound that concealed all life, for miles, against the opposing, deathly suns. But that time was not now... the suns had retreated behind the horizon of Ankus, and night threatened their previous posts in air. If there was a moon, it was completely blocked out from the thick and protective layer of the compound... no light from the true outdoors could breech the grand size of it's walls, and left the 'indoors' in a state of perpetual darkness, save for the artificial lights that transpired at this time.

 

It was a peaceful, soul soothing sight, that halted Darren's self destructive musings in a heartbeat, once he truly drank it in. The intermingling rush of anger, misery and guilt that had occupied his senses mere moments ago, had now fallen silent, in a paralleling contrast to the planet, which was ultimately void of noise; of distraction. However, there was something else intertwining with the front cover feel of peace - and it showed through the scars, which buried beneath the planet's history. Ankus, Darren realised, used to be much more; it had once escalated to a greatness... and now it felt empty. Barren. He could not fathom the answer as to how he comprehended this - perhaps it was the Force - but it brought his problems to a standstill. These people have overcome woes that I shall never understand... I can overcome my own, with time. I can.

 

In spite of this, the aura of the planet reminded him of his time spent rallying through Dantooine. He, Brianna and Bao-Dur had been preparing to protect the stability of Khoonda, against the mercenaries that threatened the settlers long fought for solace. The zabrak had been troubled that day... perhaps flashbacks from the Mandalorian War had flooded into his mind... but he had not wished to burden his general with it. In any case, Darren asked him to retrieve mines and explosives from the Ebon Hawk, and to take a quick break before continuing the strengthening of Khoonda’s defences. This left time for Brianna and he to inspire the troops, who were lined up outside the estate. In truth, it had been the presence of Brianna - or rather Handmaiden as he had known her as, at that point - that inspired him. The words that fell from his lips sprouted from the energy he received from the Echani woman. Once the troops had expressed a battle cry, Darren had turned to Brianna, planting a tender kiss to her hand, and uttered “thank you.”

 

Whether she understood what the thanks had derived from, he did not know... yet the mere enthusiasm and energy that had sprang so powerfully, from her being, showed translucently in her icy blue eyes.

 

That was the last planet they ever visited together, without worry of the betrayal of Kreia. Their closeness had truly come clean, through their actions in the Echani practises and teaching her the ways of the Force. Darren had always savoured that moment, remembering the sun kissed backdrop, and beautiful scenery... but nothing matched up to what he’d felt.

 

With one last glance across the landscape, Darren uttered to himself, quietly, “For you.”

 

* * *

 

Darkness had enveloped ever so cunningly, about the rock of a planet named Ankus. Mission had left Darren and the others waiting patiently at the doors to the Sun Stream Restaurant, whilst she crept into it's confines, a stealth field generator hiding her presence from any wandering staff, or suspecting spies. Over the years, she had practised and perfected the art of sneaking and hiding, and this merely acted as a surplus to her stealth skills... however, fatigue was wearing thin as the heart of the night drew closer, and she comprehended that if any unnecessary time was wasted, this may also become the case for the friends that had offered help - she needed to act quick, throwing out the use of 'tact', for 'time'. There would be other chances to return, anyway, she figured.

 

Mission had handed Darren a comlink, which she had previously used with Zalbaar, when he had been around. This was to ensure that the trapdoor had been located, and that they could move in. If she could reach it, without being spotted. If memory serves me well, the trapdoor isn’t difficult to find... It’s just through the door on the left... And someone should be guarding it, Mission thought, her feet gracing the floor ever so lightly, as she plodded onwards.

 

The interior of the restaurant was decorated with reds and golds that glistened like royalty, across it’s entirety. The romantic lighting that intermingled with the setting did not entirely help with the abrupt wave of tiredness, but Mission pressed on, ignoring any momentary obstacles that could stand in the way of freeing herself once and for all. Her heart pounded... but it needed to be done.

 

Once the azure twi’lek reached the door in question, she threw all ideals of ’stealth’ out of the window, and threw herself in through the wooden block, that stood in her path. This broke her stealth generator, but had secured her place, without detection. If there were any security guards inside the room, in any case, moving the door would have given her away. Staying in stealth mode was utterly unnecessary.

 

Mission cast her gaze about the room, being five metres by three. There was no sign of security, and there were definitely no stealth field generated characters dotted about the room - Mission had taken to tracking them, easily. The one beyond the trap door had been many years ago, though she doubted it was a simple weak generator that sentients often used to conceal themselves. There was no one in sight...

 

The door cracked open, and Missions senses snapped back to alert. She threw herself up against the wall, that stood by the door, and remained there, hiding from sight. Her breathing was hollow and quiet, attempting to cut out obvious sounds emitting from her being. The door swung fully open, and a human male sauntered in, revealing a blaster rifle, which hung around his belt, and holding it firmly in his grubby grasp. He still had not detected the twi’lek hiding behind him, and so with one swiftly graceful movement, Mission leapt off the wall and brought a chopping hand strike to the back of his neck.

 

The man, nameless and unidentified, from Mission’s viewpoint, gave a slight startled flinch, before toppling to his knees, and lying, motionless against the cold, undecorated surface of the room. She dropped to her knees, in addition, to check the pulse of the man that lay sprawled out, before her. After moments of attempting to discover traces of life, she discovered that her blow had been more than forceful enough to knock him unconscious...

 

He’s dead, the twi’lek told herself, silently. Blinking, and apparently unphased. In a haste motion, she approached the trap door, noticing a lock barring her way to the underground entrance to Jekko-Domn’s compound. Luckily, the skills bestowed to her, from her brother Griff, long ago had taught her more than enough to break any lock, without attracting attention with loud clangs of metal against metal, to try and smash the lock open. She began poking at the lock, rearranging certain components that that lay within it’s contents, and after a mere five seconds, the hatch came loose, and she flung the trapdoor open.

 

She returned to the corpse, beside her, placing two strong clutching hands about his ankles, and discarded him, by tossing him down into the underground tunnel. Time was of the essence. She whipped out the comlink, which was attached to her belt, and spoke into it, rather hurriedly: “Darren,” she uttered with a soft whisper, just loud enough for him to hear. “I’m in - security is down... just stroll through like you’re going for a meal, and come in through the door on the far left.”

 

She waited, and was returned with a rather static disrupting reply. “Right, we’re making our way through, now. Darren, out..”

 

----

 

I know that this update has been taking ages. I apologise to any impatient people *cough*Exile*cough*.

Anyway here it is... hopefully my next update won't take so long.

[Darth_Yuthura]

Very nice attention to detail... if you haven't heard that before.

 

The scene with Darren thinking of Brianna and remembering how she and everything of her was gone, but the feelings for her echoed in eternity. The bodily and verbal behavior of Darren was great for that moment and I could only imagine the pain he felt.

 

The lead up and connection between the base, tunnel, and building of one after another was a nice mystery-like addition. I wouldn't have thought about how the base was built and who HAD to have known about it. Great chapter.

[Burnseyy]

Very nice attention to detail... if you haven't heard that before.

 

The scene with Darren thinking of Brianna and remembering how she and everything of her was gone, but the feelings for her echoed in eternity. The bodily and verbal behavior of Darren was great for that moment and I could only imagine the pain he felt.

 

The lead up and connection between the base, tunnel, and building of one after another was a nice mystery-like addition. I wouldn't have thought about how the base was built and who HAD to have known about it. Great chapter.

 

I think Darren deserved a little bit of lone time, since everyone else had problems of their own, and spoke openly about it. There's nothing worse than having to remain silent about your own woes, whilst listening to everyone elses.

 

The discussion about the base was very last minute... I'm surprised it turned out well. But I like what I made of it.

 

Thanks for a feedback.

[Rev7]

Nice update Burnseyy!

[HIGH ON PIE 14]

I know that this update has been taking ages. I apologise to any impatient people *cough*Exile*cough*.

 

...said the girl who posted in my slow-moving fic - "We want Chapters! We want Chapters!" (jokes )

 

Really, the base idea was last minute. It came out very well. Under a restuarant, I would never have guessed Hehe, liked Mission kickin some butt.

 

~HOP

[JAvatar80]

I liked it alot, Burnseyy. I did notice a few minor gramatical errors, though. Nothing horrible mind you, but there were a couple sentances I had to re-read to understand properly...but it wasn't the whole thing. Just one or two were the beginning threw me off, and I had to stop, re-read it, read the whole sentance, then got the context.

 

But, I'm wierd as you already know, so it may have been just me.

 

Loves the Mission kicking butt and taking names.

[TheExile]

Yeah , I admit...This was long enough to worth the wait!

 

Btw, I thought at first that exile had a summer love for handmaiden, but now I start believing he is love stoned

It won't be a surprise if he tries to revive her and falls to the dark side

Now that's a great article!!!!