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ALGARA II: 3980 BBY

Tidis Drevan sat at the bar awaiting his contact. Attempting to remain inconspicuous, he had his plain, grey cloak drawn tight around him, yet the indentation at his hip had already garnered much attention.
On a rotating monitor above the bar, a preened chev discussed painless surgical operations before being replaced by a goldskin advertising the latest saloon landspeeders. Tidis regarded the patrons occupying the bar opposite and grimaced. There was something repulsive about the denizens of the Brea’ Bas district; they would only undergo surgery to escape the law, and the only saloon landspeeder they would ever ride would be stolen.
Tidis sensed Relik’s approach before he sat in the adjacent stool; the Duros’ pungent body odour negated any need for Jedi intuition.
“You are late,” Tidis said. “Tardiness makes me suspicious.”
“Everything makes you suspicious, Reverend,” Relik said. “No offence.”
Tidis narrowed his eyes threateningly. “I have not come here to exchange idol banter. Enough time has been wasted already.”
Relik crossed his arms and clenched his padded fingers. Most people would regard such gestures as inconsequential… Tidis was not most people.
“Do you have my information?” the Jedi asked calmly.
“I have placed it on a securicell,” Relik said.
“And the access?”
“I will give you the code when the credit is in my possession.”
“Our previous dealings have been amicable, why the hesitance now?”
“I have heard things. The street has a voice and it speaks distrustfully of the Reverend.”
“And what does the street say?”
“That you work for the Syndicate.”
Tidis paused and turned from the Duros. “I am not a Republican puppet and I would prove my legitimacy if I cared for a rumour any more than I do for your reassurance.”
The Jedi reached inside his cloak. He noticed the skin across Relik’s clenched hands had turned pale yellow.
“This is the sum we agreed on.” Tidis lifted out a drawstring bag bulging with credits.
Relik snatched the bag and dropped it into a pouch hanging from his right hip.
“Aren’t you going to count it?” Tidis asked.
The Duros made fists again. “It is fine.”
“I trust you have not viewed the information?”
“No, I never look at the goods I deliver.”
Relik’s response was predictably abrupt. Now Tidis was certain the Duros was hiding something. The Jedi scanned the distant recesses of the bar for signs of danger; the atmosphere was unremarkable, just the nauseating drunks and their nauseating drinks.
“Then our business is concluded,” Tidis said, keeping his voice measured. “After I leave the bar, wait an hour. When the time has passed you are free to go.”
Relik nodded as a cold look entered his bulbous, spherical eyes. He handed Tidis the securicell.
Tidis rose from his stool and paced slowly towards the exit. He was aware of Relik’s eyes tracing his path and of their sudden removal as he left the Drifting Star.
The scenes outside the establishment were typical of Brea’ Bas on a sweltering afternoon. Many citizens lounged in the shade beneath stretched tarpaulins or makeshift shelters. Others stood behind mobile stalls wearing oversized peaked hats, selling whatever junk was consumable at the time.
Tidis stepped out into the ferocious sunlight and Relik’s cold gaze was immediately replaced by a multitude of eyes filled with murderous intent. Briefly, the Jedi considered retreating back into the bar to integrate with the locals, but instead ducked into an alleyway running parallel to the Drifting Star.
The eyes were above him, convening on the rooftops. Tidis lowered his head and sprinted to the end of the corridor, but his pursuers were more than familiar with their environment. He darted down another alley, but his assailants continued to close in. They focused on his cloak, exploring the folds beneath, aware of the lightsabre swaying from his belt.
The sunlight was momentarily eclipsed and Tidis wheeled to the side, pinning himself against a flat wall only to avoid a blow from an electrostaff. The weapon sent sparks into the air and ignited a row of shirts hanging from a clothes-line. The wielder – a Breaker droid normally used in construction – turned to face Tidis and thrust the electrostaff forward. Tidis ducked the attack and rolled to the side, avoiding the subsequent firework display as the weapon struck the mortar of the wall.
Someone was controlling the droid, someone who preferred not to get their hands dirty.
Even a Breaker’s armour plating could not repel a lightsabre, but Tidis imagined this particular model had been programmed to defend itself with its electrostaff.
Cumbersomely, the droid lunged again and Tidis leapt backwards, landing on a thin step a metre away. He took a moment to steady his nerves and assess the situation. The droid’s controller was issuing remote commands from somewhere on the rooftops and Tidis knew he had to sever that connection. He ran up the steps and sprang the ten feet to reach the rooftop of a vehicle parts garage. He searched the panorama for the controller as the Breaker extended a mechanical arm and pulled itself up and over the roof gutter.
Tidis spied the controller, a squat xan too slow to lower his binoculars, which momentarily reflected the sunlight to reveal his position. Tidis presumed the controller was accompanied by a number of hired mercenaries who would do almost anything for money… anything but confront a Republican Knight in broad daylight.
The Jedi unhooked his lightsabre and activated the weapon, waiting for the emitting hum and the warming green laser to extend. His suspicions were realised when a commotion erupted around the xan’s position and Tidis watched a number of shadows disperse on the horizon.
The Breaker stretched to its full, intimidating extent before lumbering towards its target. Tidis reacted quickly and generated a ball of energy in his palm, releasing it to punch a hole in the garage roof around the droid’s feet. The unwieldy Breaker tried to find purchase and briefly sacrificed its grip on the electrostaff. Sensing an opportunity, Tidis sprang forward and plunged his lightsabre into the flailing droid’s abdomen plate. The laser sunk deep, nearly to the hilt, and the sound and smell of smouldering metal accompanied the searing red ring encompassing the weapon; if a droid possessed a heart, the Knight would have pierced it. The Breaker fell immediately limp and as Tidis drew the lightsabre from its torso, the weight of the droid’s reinforced limbs sent it crashing through the roof to land upon a decrepit 74-Z speeder-bike.
Obviously sensing the failed connection with his instrument, the xan began to traverse the rooftops eastwards. Tidis began his pursuit. Too much preparation had gone into the attack for it to be a robbery and the Knight suspected the identities of his attackers would be on Relik’s securicell. Tidis knew the controller would not be able to escape him; he was moving at twice the pace and his progression across the rooftops was faultless. As he approached the xan’s previous position he heard a barely audible beeping. Instinctively, he knew he should seek lower ground. Tidis saw the flash of light before he heard the cacophonous explosion which shook the foundations of the sandstone building and sent a mesh of shrapnel pieces in all directions. He was lifted off his feet and blasted to the alleyway below, where his fall was fortuitously broken by a tarpaulin. Despite the soft landing, he felt a spear of pain run down his left forearm, where – on inspection – a fragment of twisted metal protruded from his flesh. Blood ran freely down the length of his arm and trickled from his fingertips, dotting the scorching road to dry instantaneously. He felt his head swim, and his peripheral vision became obscured by dark shapes, masked figures brandishing violent red lightsabres shimmered in and out of lucidity.
Tidis vomited and collapsed.

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This entry was posted on Tuesday, July 12th, 2011 at 6:28 am and is filed under Knights of the Old Republic, Star Wars, The Old Republic. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.