[fic] KOTOR III: Tret'ye Srazhenie: An Echani Obsessed

[Tysyacha]

KOTOR III: TRET'YE SRAZHENIE (THIRD BATTLE)

 

Chapter IX: An Echani Obsessed

 

The journey to Corellia was definitely not as long as the one from Dantooine to Coruscant had been. However, that didn't mean that the three Jedi Padawans found nothing to occupy their time! Zakal made rounds polishing the metal interior of the Ebon Hawk and tightening a few bolts here and there. As for Becca and Galon, they peppered their Master with questions as Mira tried to pilot the ship as best she could. Even though Mira was more than half-decent at maneuvering the old and delicate freighter, she had to admit that Atton Rand had been much better at it. Becca and Galon asked:

 

"Who is this Tysyacha Dvyx, and why does her name keep popping up everywhere we go?" Becca herself was especially curious about this mysterious figure, since Master Visas had mentioned her before she died.

 

"She is more commonly known as the Jedi Exile," said Mira coolly, "who served as a general under Revan back when he was Dark Lord of the Sith. She was the one who gave the order to activate the Mass Shadow Generator upon Malachor V, killing everyone and everything upon that dark world. Tysyacha put an end to the Mandalorian Wars through her actions, but inadvertently, she cut herself off from the Force, severing all ties with it." Mira sighed. "It wasn't until a manipulative old schutta named Kreia helped her to reconnect with it that our troubles began. If it would not have been for both of them, I would still be a bounty hunter upon Nar Shaddaa, I guess." Mira tried to keep her eyes upon the starry vacuum of space, but she felt them fill up with tears. "She tried to set things right upon a planet or two in the course of her travels with Kreia--and me--but in the end, she fell right back to the Dark Side. She and her Mandalorian husband murdered two Jedi spies who were working undercover on Eriadu." She brusquely wiped a tear away.

 

"Where is she now?" asked Galon, stepping closer. "The Exile, I mean?"

 

"Who knows? She's gone. She fled off into space, leaving the rest of us to rot at the Jedi Enclave on Dantooine. She left Atton, Visas, Bao-Dur, myself, and all the Younglings and Padawans to tend. Crafty is that one, and cold."

 

"Why does Master Shan--Bastila--want to see her?" asked Zakal inquisitively.

 

"She wants to reform her, I suppose. Isn't that what all Jedi want to do when someone has strayed from the Light?" Mira shrugged. "I guess if Bastila wants to rebuild the Jedi Order, she wants all the Jedi to help her, including us and the woman who was rumored to be the 'last known Jedi' more than eight years ago." Mira flipped a few glowing levers. "She's certainly not a Jedi now. The last thing I heard, she was searching for Revan, having murdered the Jedi spies on Eriadu and fleeing from the law." She brushed back a tendril of red hair, a touch of gray starting to creep into it. "What do I care, Zakal?"

 

"You do care," replied the Consular gently, hoping that Mira wouldn't turn to glare at her. "You care about the Exile, and about Revan, and all Jedi."

 

"Sometimes I wish I didn't," Mira said, and then, "Enough history. We're about to come in for a landing in Coronet City. This is a very crowded spaceport, second to none. Watch yourselves. There are CorSec agents about, but you can't be too careful. Reduce your worth, and don't show your lightsabers. Let's all slip into civilian clothes before we leave the Hawk, okay?" The three Padawans nodded, and they slipped into their dormitories to change. Mira, Zakal and Becca shared the starboard one; Galon took the port side. Owing to the military-style discipline that Atton Rand had been teaching them, they were all dressed in under ten minutes. They looked like tourists.

 

"Gad!" cried Galon. "Did I have to bring this loud tropical flimsi-shirt?"

 

Becca laughed out loud, and Zakal tried her hardest to keep from snickering. It was true that Mira had told them to pack civvie garb, but Becca herself had not refrained from slipping one of her own fuchsia blouses into Galon's pack. "Becca!" Galon was red-faced, although in an embarrassed sort of way. "You never do let up with your practical jokes, do you?" Becca grinned. "You'll pay for taking out all my black tunics!" Galon shot back.

 

Master Mira rolled her eyes, annoyed. "Move out!" she cried. They did so.

 

As the Master had said, Coronet City had the most bustling spaceport that any of them had ever seen--even more packed with jostling people and aliens than the one on Coruscant. It was hard for the Jedi to maneuver their way through the maze of beings, although a Force Push did help from time to time. Becca and Galon were hoping not to have to use it, but since when did a Gamorrean move out of your way if asked politely? Suddenly, the holovid news blared into life, blasting a report straight into the ears of the four Jedi:

 

"A third terrorist attack has been perpetrated against the safeguards of our most precious relics," a Twi'lek hologram reported, "this time at the Corellian Space Museum. Classified sources tell us that a masked figure, face covered with Arkanian blinders, snuck into the Museum early this morning, murdering twenty CorSec security guards. The figure seems to have absconded with an exhibit of an early hyperdrive prototype, containing a holocron rumored to be Sith in origin. We know the Sith have their own ships, but this exhibit dated back to thousands of years before the present galactic date. The figure is--"

 

"Uma," said Becca in a tense whisper, frozen to the spot in a dead halt.

 

"...said to have white hair, though no other details have been forthcoming. Whoever he or she is, the perpetrator seems to be obsessed with the past."

 

"What do you see when you view one of these suspicious holovid reports?" Mira turned to stare pointedly at the three Padawans under her supervision.

 

"Ignore it?" Zakal giggled, but Mira's look silenced her into staring at the floor.

 

"We head straight for the crime scene," said Becca. Mira and Galon agreed.

[machievelli]

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