Desperate Times/Part 1

1,386 BBY

Ferns tickled Narasi's ears, and a bug landed on the back of her neck and began to feed, but she crawled forward anyway, letting her claws dig into the dry soil for a tighter grip, sweat dripping down her nose and beading in the buzzed hair on her forehead. Dressed in camouflage fatigues instead of her Jedi robes, woodland color paint smeared across her face, she tried to remain invisible as she crawled forward a few centimeters at a time. An indigenous avian ikk-kawed in a tree nearby; she felt the shadow pass over her as it flew beneath the moonlight. Creeping along with her whole body flat to the ground, even her head angled as far as she could go without smushing her left ear into the dirt, a sentient who only caught her with a glance might have mistaken her for a native predator.

Let them, she thought savagely. I am a predator, and they're my prey.

She felt tension behind her and glanced over her shoulder in time to see a brown-scaled snake hanging from a vine and hissing at one of the Republic Marines crawling in her wake. To his credit, the man had not cried out or even flinched for a weapon, just stilled on the spot as the vine snake lowered itself. Narasi wondered if she could use the Force to aim a thrown knife; using her lightsaber would be as bad as sending up a flare.

We wound the Force when we kill without real need, she remembered. The memory hurt, and a spasm of pain twisted her face. But she took a deep breath and lifted one clawed hand out of the muck, stretching out into the Force.

Not hungry she told the vine snake, but it hissed, clearly not believing her. Grimacing, she looked up where the birds had flown by and tried instead, ''Up high in the trees. Food up there. Easy food. Tasty. Go get it'.''

The vine snake coiled itself, looking at the Marine, then up into the foliage, then back at the Marine. To Narasi's relief, another clawbird chose that moment to flutter from one branch to another, and the vine snake pulled its coils back in, slithering up a branch in slow pursuit. Exhaling quietly, Narasi returned to her crawl.

The need for this glacial, creeping stealth vexed her; she wanted nothing more than to reach the objective. But she couldn't be sure her mind tricks were strong enough for her to just walk up to the door, and even if she could pull it off, she couldn't mind trick a security camera, nor was she powerful enough to divert the guards from the entire Marine Commando team crawling with her. But while the direct approach might have been feasible on some technopolis, there was an advantage to this jungle backwater too—a world so obscure that even the Temple Archives hadn't been sure whether "Wayland" was the planet's name, a nickname, or just a "resting point" designation by some bored spacer. The guards might be on the lookout for anything out of the ordinary, but they were also unlikely to be expecting any action.

And Narasi's team had a guide, too. The four-armed, snouted purple alien crawled along at the point, covered in camouflage paint so thoroughly his knives and spear were almost invisible, and even Narasi might have struggled to spot him without the Force. Her team's protocol droid had struggled with the native languages, but eventually cobbled together enough to learn that the indigenes called themselves Myneyrshi and had no love for the Sith presence. The Jedi's promise to remove that issue had been enough to secure them guides through the jungle to the Sith outpost; while Narasi advanced from one side, her master and his team of commandos were coming at the Sith bunker from the other.

Her master…

The Myneyrsh lifted his spear with exaggerated slowness, tapping the butt of it into the dirt three times. Tapping her own foot thrice to pass the signal back, Narasi crawled to her guide's side, carefully peeling aside a few ferns to get a glimpse of the bunker. Its two floodlights illuminated the open door and the trio of Sith sentries on duty, but also stretched almost to the jungle's edge. Narasi grimaced, sensing the sentries' boredom was the type that would leap at the chance for some action. There would be no diverting them as there had been the snake…but then, she couldn't find it in herself to feel bad about that, either. The snake hadn't chosen to be a snake.

Inching back until the curtain of ferns had closed again on the stage of the impending fight, Narasi touched the comlink on her wrist. She had dialed its sensitivity up to maximum and linked it to a transmitter she had all but embedded in one ear, so she only had to breathe, "Narasi. We're in position."

"Acknowledged," her master's voice came back, as if he was as close as the Myneyrsh and whispering to her. "Get ready."

Narasi crossed her heels, then uncrossed them and tapped them together. She felt the Marines getting into position, some crawling up even with her, others falling back to better firing positions. She gave the Myneyrsh a nod of gratitude, then slid a hand back to her waist and laid it on her lightsaber hilt.

The other side of the bunker was too far away for the engagement there to cut across the sounds of the jungle night, but Narasi felt the change when the three sentries shifted to high alert. Planting her free hand beside her shoulder and tucking one knee up close to her ribs, digging the toe of her boot into the dirt, she hissed over her shoulder, "Now!"

The Marines popped up from the grass, sighting and firing in seconds. Narasi gave them a volley, then catapulted to her feet and into a run, activating her lightsaber on the way. One sentry was already dead; before she had even cleared the ferns a second went down with a smoking crater where his face had just been. The third sprinted back into the base, chased by blaster bolts that didn't quite catch him. He slammed his hand on the access panel, and the blast door started to close.

Narasi stretched her hands out as if the Force was a ball she could throw at him, and the doors groaned and strained in their runners as they struggled against her grip. The sentry had a second of astonishment and fear, then recovered and started shooting at her. A blaster bolt sizzled by her, and Narasi realized she could either hold the doors or deflect the bolts, but not both.

Her Marines shot past her the other way, laying down a laser storm of covering fire that turned the gray durasteel of the blast door black and sent the sentry scrambling back out of the way. A Marine dove into the dirt beside Narasi, took a second to aim from a prone position, then shot and caught the Sith sentry square in the center of his chest. He dropped, and the Marines flooded the clearing. One threw an EMP grenade into the hall, and when it burst, the access panel and the door mechanisms sparked and crackled.

The doors stopped fighting Narasi, and she released her hold on them, leaving them half-open. "Let's roll."

She led the charge into the bunker that served as a Sith listening post on this out-of-the-way world, painfully sterile after the vivacity of the jungle, and every corridor showed how much the Sith had chosen to rely on stealth rather than strength; Wayland was a Sith world only because it was too far out of the way and too undeveloped for the Republic to bother fighting for it. An ideal place for an intelligence relay and listening post, but that, too, made extensive fortifications and a defensive fleet more harmful than helpful. Narasi and her strike team charged through three corridors unimpeded before they found the next batch of defenders.

There were only two of them, and Narasi turned her blade into a shield while the Marines fired past her. One Weequay went down in silence, dead before he hit the deck. The other shot at Narasi and she reflected the shot back; her aim wasn't perfect, and the blaster bolt sheared off the side of the Weequay's neck. He collapsed, gasping and hacking, and Narasi knew a moment of unease, nausea churning her stomach. One bad deflection, one moment when she wasn't concentrating enough…

Then the Weequay lurched for his fallen blaster, eyes bugging out of his leathery face, and one of Narasi's Marines shot him in the head.

They moved on and found the doors to the main control room sealed. Narasi plunged her blade through the door, feeling the fear from the other side, but she had barely cut a quarter circle through when one of her commandos barked, "Rican!"

She turned at the sound of metallic footfalls and found a troop of Sith war droids clomping down the corridor toward them, aiming their cannon arms and opening fire. The cramped hall made it a shooting gallery, and Narasi forced her way through her troops to take the fire on her lightsaber blade. She had to sink into the Force or die—there was no room for split focus. She became an instrument of the Force's will, letting it guide her hand, willing herself to be a shield between the valiant Marines who had followed her and the harm beyond, and nothing more.

Then there was a snapping crackle, and the fire stopped; one of her Marines had had the sense to pitch another EMP grenade, and the droids sparked and twitched. The Marines gunned them down in seconds, and Narasi stepped out of that place of pure light into the darkness of the galaxy once more, all her worry and heartache rushing back to her. She gritted her teeth, fangs bared as she stabbed through the door again.

"Remember, we need them alive to interrogate!" she said. Completing the circle, she blew the oval of durasteel inward with the Force, and two Marines pitched stun grenades in after it. They all ducked to the sides of the lightsabered door; only two blaster shots scorched through the hole before the blinding flash and its accompanying BZARP. Narasi was first through the breach; the nearest Sith soldiers had collapsed into twitches, while others staggered in a daze. The Marines fired blue stun rings on either side of her to bring them down.

Across the room, the remaining defenders fired, but they had evidently been watching the security monitors behind them, because they fired on the Marines instead of Narasi. In the center ring of consoles, a Devaronian in a Sith Intelligence uniform made a run for it, but the Zygerrian beside him grabbed a shock whip from his belt and activated the sizzling electrical lash. Its buzz-crack echoed over the din as the other Zygerrian slashed at Narasi.

"Rican!" he snarled. Narasi recognized the uniform of a slave raid commander. "I can wipe out your family's filth now!"

Narasi understood now why the Myneyrshi had been so eager to support anyone who wasn't the Sith. Snarling back, she deflected the blows and leapt the railing separating them. The slaver retreated, but he was obviously an expert with the whip, slashing in an X with lightning speed, the shock whip spitting sparks as he cranked it up to lethal intensity. Narasi parried, trying to get close enough to take off his hand. Or perhaps his whole arm; she couldn't find it in herself to be fussy.

He kept her at bay on the retreat, but he was running out of space; the Marines had secured the rest of the room. His eyes narrowed, and he lashed out at one of the Marines instead. They had come in without armor to blend with the jungle, and so he had little to protect him; he turned away from the blow, but it still carved a hunk out of his cheek and sent him to the floor with a scream.

Narasi roared and leapt in for a killing stroke, but the slaver snapped the whip back; Narasi only just caught his wrist in time, and he caught her sword hand before she could connect with him. The grappled for position—he tried to flick the sizzling whip at her with his fingertips, and she tried to angle her blade for a shiim strike that would distract him enough that she could finish him. He bore down on her, and her knees started to bend; she was stronger than Humans her size because she was a Zygerrian, but she had forgotten that would make the slaver that much stronger than her.

One of her Marines circled around, lined up a careful shot, and fired. He barely tagged the Zygerrian slaver's shoulder, but it was enough; the slaver winced, and Narasi twisted her wrist enough to cut off part of his shoulder. He howled as she wrenched her hand free and punched her in the face, but Narasi angled her head down to take the blow, and even though one of her horns cracked, it broke his knuckle too. The slave raider had just started to scream and pull back his bloodied hand when Narasi cut him in half.

The pain drove him into the unconsciousness of shock in seconds, so Narasi didn't have to endure the haunting screams as his life force faded. She slid the toe of her boot under the shock whip handle, kicked it up into her grip, and cut it in half before she descended from the control station to where the Marines had corralled the prisoners; one of her troops was tending to the injured man. Replacing her lightsaber on her belt, she looked at the sergeant who had led her squad. "Good shot. Thanks."

"Nice job yourself, ma'am. The other team's on their way in."

Narasi forced a smile, then looked over the prisoners and pointed at the Devaronian. "You."

Two Marines hauled him to his feet; he glared down at her. "Is this the part where I endure your self-righteous speech about the ultimate triumph of goodness and light, Jedi?"

He was quite a bit taller than her; Narasi tried to stand up straight as she glowered back. "This is the part where you tell me where to find Darth Alecto."

The Intelligence chief grinned, showing off his sharp teeth. "Is it really? I'm sure you'd like to know that, wouldn't you?"

Narasi tried to control her anger; a Jedi didn't succumb to pettiness or despair, she knew, but… "You're going to tell me where to find her."

"I wish I knew," the Devaronian said with a shrug. "I'd be honored to kiss her boots for her latest victory."

He leered at Narasi, leaning in as much as the Marines holding him would allow. "Tell me, little Jedi, were you there? Did you get to see the Chancellor twitching from Darth Alecto's insecticide?  Tell me he begged; please tell me he was afraid at the end.  Tell me—"

Narasi's stomach twisted; she remembered the Chancellor dying on the floor, the mournful circle of Jedi who had failed to save him. The Marines jerked the Devaronian's arms up behind him, but as he chuckled, Narasi punched him in the face. Her strength was enough to snap his head back, but she felt no opposition around her; a couple Marines even muttered approval.

The Devaronian rocked his head forward again, laughing even as blood dribbled out of his nose. "Very fierce, Jedi. You'll have to forgive me not quivering in fear, these brutes have a pretty tight grip." He studied her rigid expression and sneered. "Was that supposed to break me? I'm Sith Intelligence, you stupid little girl.  Do you know what we do for interrogations?  Do you think Jedi are going to break me, that you could do anything that would rival what I've seen?"

Narasi felt her temper rising; she tried to remember something Tirien had said that would help, but the remembering burned hotter, and the Devaronian taunted her with a red-stained smile. "I'm afraid I'm not feeling communicative, little Jedi, but good job trying."

"Then I guess I'll have to try harder," Narasi spat, and she hit him with a Force blow so hard he flew out of the Marines' hands, smashing into the wall and dropping onto his hands and knees. He coughed, eyes squeezed shut in pain, elbows trembling as he tried to keep himself from collapsing. He looked up at her, and Narasi saw a hint of uncertainty in those dark eyes.

"Ma'am?" her Marine sergeant asked, but Narasi ignored him.

"Tell me where Alecto is," Narasi commanded. When the Devaronian said nothing, Narasi made a fist, and the Intelligence officer's eyes widened as he grabbed his neck, coughing and pulling whistling breaths down his cramped throat.

"I…don't know…"

Narasi remembered Alecto's taunting laugh, imagined her laughing in Tirien's face as she poisoned him. She raised one hand and the Devaronian came up to his knees, choking and twisting in pain; she raised the other, and her lightsaber flipped off her belt into her grip. The snap-hiss of the blue blade cut through the frightened chatter around her, and as Narasi raised her blade in one hand, she finally sensed fear in the Devaronian's mind.

"You are going to tell me where to find Darth Alecto or I'm going to cut you into pieces while you're still CONSCIOUS!"

The man's eyes widened. "I don't…know!" he gasped. "Nobody does! We can't…find her…don't know where…she is…!"

Narasi roared in fury, but a new voice cut through the room. "Narasi!"

"He needs to tell us where Alecto is!" she fired back without looking. "He knows!"

"I don't!" the Devaronian gasped.

"LIAR!"

"Narasi, enough!"

"I have to find Alecto! I can't keep failing him!" The words just fell out of her, and she clenched her teeth so hard her jaws hurt. "I have to help Tirien!"

Her master crossed the room, quick but unhurried, and calmly took her sword hand by the wrist. Narasi was trembling with rage, but she looked up at the smooth, cilia-covered green chitin plates where Slejux's face would've been. He had neither eyes to show warmth nor mouth to offer her a gentle smile, but she felt his disapproval of her actions mixed with his unwavering compassion for her in his touch, as if the physical contact had linked them mind to mind. "Tirien would not want you to do this," his voice came from his vocoder, soft and quiet even with its mechanical buzz. "He would not want you to catch Alecto by becoming Alecto."

Narasi stared at that blank face, imagining Tirien's in its place, what her real master would say if he could see her now. She shuddered and closed her eyes, and after a moment she deactivated her lightsaber. Slejux patted her hand with his other one, then released her to return the lightsaber to her belt.

She stared at the floor in front of the Devaronian, refusing to meet his eyes as he gasped, but muttered, "I'm a Jedi. It's not what Jedi do."

"You're a weakling," the Devaronian rasped. "And that's all that Jedi are."

Narasi gritted her teeth, and Slejux laid a hand on her shoulder…in restraint? In solidarity? One of the Marines stepped up. "Yeah, well, I'm not a Jedi."

And he smashed the butt of his rifle into the side of the Devaronian's head, sending him back to the floor. Slejux's vocoder buzzed something like a sigh. "That's quite enough now. Take them away.  Lieutenant, have your men secure the building and see what we can find."

"Yes sir."

As the commandos spread out, some plugging into the security monitors, other tapping into control consoles, and still others running off to secure the corridors they had bypassed on the way in, Narasi took the three steps back up into the control station. The Zygerrian slaver she had bisected had died, and she stepped over his corpse with a feeling of loathing, though she was no longer sure for whom. She gripped the far railing with both hands, bent under the weight of her guilt.

Slejux came up behind her, folding his hands over his torso and giving her space. Narasi didn't turn to him, but she repeated, "I can't keep failing, Slejux."

"Trust the Force, Narasi," he urged her. "You'll never bring about its will if you let this guilt drive you."

"But what about Tirien? This is my third raid, the others have done a dozen more now, and we've got nothing!" She could hear the heat creeping back into her voice, but she couldn't cool it down. "Where is she?! Half the galaxy's hunting Alecto, how can we not have found her yet?!"

"What does the Force tell you, Narasi?"

"I don't know."

"Have you asked?"

Narasi growled, setting her elbows on the rail and putting her head in her hands. Slejux came up beside her, leaning on the railing as well. "Narasi, I'm not Tirien, and I never will be. But I'm not just filling in as your master—I'm also your friend.  But I can't help if you won't let me." When she just sighed, he added, "Tirien doesn't blame you. You shouldn't blame yourself."

Narasi straightened, drawing sharp breaths through her nose. "I should go with the Marines, Master—make sure there aren't any more Sith troopers. I don't want anybody else suffering because I didn't do my job."

She felt the mental frown Slejux couldn't show, and he touched her shoulder. "Once we're done here and we've taken the prisoners to the Eminence, we'll return to Coruscant to regroup."

Narasi shuddered. "I can't face him without…I can't go back as a failure."

Slejux let her go. "Just don't fail to be the Jedi he—and I—believe you can be."