A Bad Day in Paradise

This was originally based on my series fic, but as things kind of got out of hand, it became: What can I accomplish in less than 24 hours? This story takes place at some point after the end of KOTOR II.

Pointlessly useless trivia: The phrase “I have a bad feeling about this,” in one form or another, occurs in all five films. I can only guess it's in Episode 3 as well with that kind of track record.

“It's a trap!” shouted Jolee, as armed soldiers began spilling into the central courtyard in front of them. Spinning around, he found more soldiers approaching from the opposite direction, preventing an escape back they way they'd come.

Blaster bolts stitched across the ground around them as they took cover behind a nearby permacrete wall. The odor of ionized molecules permeated their senses.

Snatching the blaster from Canderous' hand, “Gimme that,” said Jolee. He loosed a barrage of coherent energy at the perforated cover of a ventilation shaft along the opposite wall. The metallic mesh exploded in a burst of smoke and flying debris.

Throwing his arms up to deflect the fragments raining down around him, “What the hell are you doing!” Canderous demanded. “What's in there?”

“You don't wanna know,” he replied. With a lightsaber deflecting incoming bolts in one hand and returning fire with the blaster in the other, Jolee dashed toward the new exit he'd made. “Come on!” he shouted, motioning with his lightsaber for them to follow. “Somebody's gotta save us old people!”

Bastila pulled down a deep breath and sprinted across the way to join Jolee. As she swirled her blade, several of the attackers collapsed to the returning bolts.

Canderous drew his backup blaster and followed close behind, unleashing bursts of automatic fire at the encroaching forces.

Glancing at the blackness inside the opening, “This looks like a bad idea,” said Bastila. “I hope you know what you are doing, Jolee.”

“Yeah, me too,” he muttered. Upon seeing her hesitation, “Bah, it's just your imagination, kid,” he replied, firing off a few more bursts. More hesitation. “Fine, I'll go first. Don't dawdle.” He slipped into the tube and disappeared into the darkness.

Canderous returned fire again as a fresh squad of attackers poured around an adjacent wall. “Your turn, Princess. Let's go!”

She stuck her head in the tube and wrinkled her nose. “It smells like bantha....”

“Get in there! I don't care whatcha smell!” he shouted.

“I have a bad feeling about this!” she yelled, jumping into the tube.

A moment later Canderous' blaster fell silent, the power cell giving up the last of its energy. “Here goes nothing,” he muttered, dropping in behind her.

Captain Tivic rushed toward the demolished ventilation shaft cover and inspected the wreckage. He motioned for her to join him and she trotted up dutifully. “Lieutenant Avori, take your soldiers and pursue them at once.”

She glanced at the blasted entrance. “But sir, don't those lead to the waste channels?”

His eyes narrowed to the question. Leveling a finger toward her, “Waste channels do not concern me, Lieutenant. I want those Jedi, not excuses,” he commanded.

Nodding in compliance, “Of course, Captain. At once.” She knew the only way her troops would go willingly was if she led the way. Stepping up to the shaft entrance, “First squad, you're with me,” she said, waving them over to join her.

“And Lieutenant,” said Captain Tivic, “if they won't come back willingly, wipe them out...all of them. I'll inform Lord Sora the Jedi will either be our prisoners shortly...or dead. Do not fail me.”

“I won't, sir,” she said, disappearing into the shaft.

The tube was a long drop at first before arcing one way and then another. Just as his tumbles were about to end, Canderous rolled off another drop off which angled away sharply. At long last he finally smashed into something soft and warm that gave off a loud yelp.

“Get off of me you overbearing ronto!” yelled Bastila.

Pushing himself up, he ignited a lamp and began swapping out the blaster's power cell. “What are you so worked up about, Princess? It could've been worse.”

Thick, gurgling sounds of flowing sludge echoed from the tube walls around them.

“It is worse,” she replied, pushing herself up as well. “And stop calling me that!”

“Fine, Princess. Don't get cocky.”

Her cheeks began to burn. “Nerf-herder,” she spat.

“Schutta.”

Stabbing a finger at him, “Watch your mouth!”

A lightsaber bobbed toward them, its owner barely identifiable in the pale light it emitted. “Could you two focus for a minute?” asked Jolee.

Canderous stepped toward the light, “Hey, old man, quite a smell you've discovered down here.”

With the back of her hand blocking her nose, “It is quite thick in here. I believe I can taste it,” added Bastila.

Sniffing the dribble from the ceiling that had found its way across his armored shoulder, “One thing's for sure, we're all gonna be a lot smellier after this.”

“How you can tell the difference between the sewage and yourself is beyond me,” Bastila snapped.

“Cute, Princess”

Groaning to their barbs, “Is that all you two can think about? At least you're not eating blaster-fire anymore. Right?”

Canderous and Bastila stared at the man, odd odors wafting through the air, slime draping the walls and squishy stuff underfoot on the forefront of their minds.

“Well, don't everyone thank me at once.” Motioning them to follow, “Come on,” he said. “There's light up ahead and probably an exit.”

They jogged toward the light Jolee had found and discovered a large opening that spilled into a lake several hundred meters below.

Canderous shook his head at the sight. “Oh, not good.”

Nodding in agreement, “This isn't very reassuring, Jolee,” added Bastila.

“What? You kids forget how to climb?” asked Jolee. “Call Dustil, Canderous, and have him break orbit to meet us at the bottom.”

“Sure thing, old man,” he replied, tapping his comlink controller.

A metallic chink echoed from the darkness behind them. Bastila spun on her heel, a pop-hiss signaling the ignition of her dual-bladed lightsaber. “I think we are in trouble.”

Canderous shouldered his blaster rifle. “Not if I can help it. I'll take them myself. Cover me!” he ordered, marching back into the darkness.

“Are you brainless?” asked Bastila. “We will take them together. Jolee and I will take up the flanks and provide an overlapping defense.”

“Fine with me, Princess.”

As her eyes narrowed to his incessant use of the tag, motion in the darkness caught her attention.

Stepping fully into the light, “This party's over, you Jedi scum!” shouted a uniformed woman. “Surrender!” With a blaster pistol in each hand, the barrels hovered across the three targets.

“At least there's just one of them,” muttered Canderous. “We can take her with ease.”

Positioning his lightsaber out in front of him defensively, “Who are you?” asked Jolee.

Another soldier emerged from the dark and took a knee next to the woman, flipping the activator on a thermal detonator, he raised it in the air so no one could miss its presence. “Right with you Ma'am!” he proclaimed.

“It doesn't matter who I am,” the woman said to the Jedi Master. “What does matter is how we're going to do this. One way, you live through this. The other, you get blasted out the tube. Your choice.”

Six more soldiers slipped from the darkness and took up varying positions around their leader while bringing their weapons to bear.

Canderous shifted uneasily. “Okay. This is getting out of hand. Now theres a whole squad of them! I say we shoot first and hope for the best.”

Jolee glanced over to the Mandalorian. “Bonehead, of course that's what you'd say!” Giving the woman the most charming smile he could muster, “How 'bout we just leave your nice planet and go play somewhere else today? No blaster fire, no lightsabers and no thermal detonators. We'll just part ways and both sides live to see another day.”

Her lips curled up in disdain. “Wrong choice, old man! Die, Jedi dogs!” she shouted, squeezing her pistols' triggers. Her squad joined her in earnest.

A torrential rain of burgundy bolts were flung through the stale air. Jolee and Bastila jinked and spun their blades to meet the incoming hail of destruction while Canderous loosed his own energy bolts to the attackers.

Seeing the thermal detonator flung toward them, Bastila stopped it midair with her mind and sent it hurling back to its origin at twice the speed. The same moment the soldier that had thrown it realized what had happened, the blast engulfed him and flung the bodies of his squad mates like sticks in a windstorm.

“Whoa! That got 'em!” whooped Canderous. His cheers were short-lived as the soldiers began picking themselves off the deck.

“Blast,” said Bastila. “They all have personal shields.”

Jolee turned back from the tube opening, a sly smile spreading across his lips. “I have an idea,” he said.

“What,” Canderous and Bastila said in unison.

“Run.”

“What!” they both said again.

“Run!” he shouted.

With only their faith in him to go by, they followed him out the tube. The fall they expected was cut short as they smacked the top of a hovering ship and rolled to a stop. Raising to the tube outlet's level, the ship's primary canons exploded to life blasting away the cliff-face and ejecting the enemy squad toward the lake below.

Canderous watched as the bodies impacted the sludge and water mix far below. “I don't care what part of universe you're from, that's gotta hurt.”

Carefully balancing her steps to the sway of the ship, Bastila walked over to where Jolee was pulling open a maintenance hatch. “That was too close.”

“Heh, I thought you'd like that,” he replied.

They quickly slid down the maintenance ladder and joined Dustil in the cockpit of the shuttle.

“Everyone's in? Then lets get the frack outta here!” shouted Dustil. “Great, more baddies on top the cliff,” he said, pointing beyond the cockpit.

“Punch it, kid,” said Jolee.

A warning horn began screaming in the cockpit as a thin stream of white smoke arced away from the cliff top.

“Stang! Looks like we're 'bout to have company. Seeker inbound,” Dustil warned.

Commenting flatly on the incoming danger, “That looks like trouble,” said Canderous.

Jerking the ship from side to side in attempt to avoid the seeker, “I know we're in trouble, just hang on!” shouted Dustil.

The port winglet dipped heavily as it absorbed the missile's impact. More horns sounded and were accompanied by a half-dozen warning lights. The repulsorlift was unaffected, but the automated systems were slow to switch over to the backups on the damaged systems. Steadily climbing away from the planet, the horns and lights had extinguished by the time they reached space as secondary systems finally kicked online.

“Occasionally, I get the feeling you people are going to be the death of me. But damn, that was exciting!” shouted Dustil.

Shaking her head. “Exciting is hardly the word I would choose,” replied Bastila.

“That's because you're the princess, Princess,” stated Canderous.

“Sometimes,” she said, poking him lightly with her lightsaber's hilt, “I really hate you, Canderous Ordo.”

Giving up a short chortle, “And you call yourself a Jedi,” he said.

Dustil touched a lever and the starfield faded into long streaks as they entered the slipstream of hyperspace. “The Inception isn't far. We'll be there shortly. Which is good because you three smell like you slaughtered a herd of bantha while having a flarg fight.”

As the silence between the four grew into minutes, “So, uh, I guess he wasn't there?” Dustil asked.

Bastila pressed her eyes shut for a moment. “No, Dustil, he was not. It was a trap. Somebody is after us. Someone is trying to stop us from finding him.”

Dustil nodded. “I'm sorry, Bastila. So much for the tip he was on Paradise. Guess our next stop is Ovador VI.”

Jolee moved next to Bastila, placing a hand on her shoulder. Squeezing gently, “Don't worry, kid. We'll find Revan if it's the last thing we do.”

As a light glow from numerous displays cast ugly shadows around the command center, Captain Tivic paced cautiously in anticipation. Awaiting the news of his quarry's capture or death, he glanced repeatedly at the operations station for an update.

The attendant at the operations terminal spoke briefly into his commset.

“What do you have?” demanded Tivic.

“Sir, second squad reports the Jedi boarded a small craft and immediately made for open space,” replied the attendant.

“Are they away?”

Glancing at the terminal for the latest scan, “Yes, they just made the jump to hyperspace.”

The sharpened edge of his shoulders collapsed a notch as a nervous tic he'd overcome years before returned to the captain's lower left eyelid.

The operations attendant touched his ear piece momentarily. “Captain, Lord Sora demands an update on the pursuit.”

As the color drained from his face, Tivic tugged his uniform coat smartly. Drawing a heavy breath, “Prepare a transport. I shall assume full responsibility for losing them and apologize to Lord Sora in person.”

“Yes, sir.”

As Captain Tivic watched the space between his master's thumb and forefinger close, he found the crackling noise of his own trachea splintering inside his neck the most wretched sound he'd ever heard.