Woman without a Country

Ludmilla could feel herself waking, very slowly. The bounty hunter girl had gassed her, and stolen the environmental suit to go to the meeting with Visquis. The gas had been hidden by the stench of Nar Shadaa, and the girl had used olfactory blockers on herself before meeting with Ludmilla to prevent herself from succumbing to the gas. Ludmilla groaned. She couldn't believe she had fallen for such a stupid trap.
"The numbness will be wearing off soon," said a vaguely familiar voice. Male. Old. Wise. "I regret that it has come to this. When I first heard you were on Nar Shadaa, I didn't quite believe it. I didn't think anyone could track me here, but I realize now that I underestimated you. We all did."
Master Ell. Ludmilla tried to force herself to her feet, but she was still too deep in the effects of the gas.
"I have watched and listened as you traveled through the Refugee Sector. I've seen what you've done here. All the things I could not do, fearing to disrupt the delicate balance of the moon, fearing that a thoughtless act would make the lives of the people trapped here worse. And you, an Exile, have proven to be more of a Jedi than I. You have healed the sick, reunited families and lovers, found work for the willing, and forced out the cheaters and murderers that preyed on the weak. I see now that I was wrong, that I can no longer stand by silently while the Exchange closes its grip on this sector." Master Ell sighed, and she could sense his shame and regret. "And even now, I must ask you to do one more thing. A … friend… has gone to meet Visquis in your stead, but she has fallen into a trap laid to catch a Jedi. She must be rescued. Will you do this? If you do, then I will know that we were truly wrong about you."
There was a soft rustle of robes, and she knew that Master Ell had left the room. She struggled to her feet, hoping to catch him before he was gone, but she wasn't fast enough. She knew now how the bounty hunter had found a gas that would work on a Jedi, and how to protect herself against it.
Ludmilla put a hand to her head, and growled in disgust. How long had he been here, watching all this misery and suffering? And now, he suddenly realized that he was wrong? And he still couldn't even be bothered to lift a finger to save the bounty hunter who had trapped her for him. No wonder no one liked the Jedi anymore.
She checked her lightsaber, and staggered out of Mira's hideout, and made her way to the Jekk'Jekk Tarr, the poison club of Nar Shadaa.
There was a bouncer, who stared at her in shock. Ludmilla was in no mood to deal with him, and knocked him out with one swift punch. She shook her head, trying to clear it, and entered the poison club. The fumes were thick and heavy, the atmosphere entirely impossible for a Human to breathe. She pulled the Force to herself, focusing on the flow of energy around her until it had formed a small ball, completely enclosing her. Inside her little ball of Force energy, the air was sweet and clean and refreshed itself constantly. She set aside a tiny part of her mind to focus on keeping the barrier up, and entered the central part of the Jekk'Jekk Tarr.
The Quarren's voice suddenly came over the loudspeakers, announcing that the Human in the club was fair game for anyone and everyone.
"What is it about this moon that makes everyone ashamed to fight their own battles?" she growled, and drew her lightsaber. The fumes from the club made all the aliens aggressive, and the bounty on her head made them eager. However, none of them, whether fighting alone or together, were a match for a Jedi of her skill. She fought her way through all the denizens of the Jekk'Jekk Tarr until she found a secret exit in the back. This led to a series of tunnels, littered with the corpses of people who had tried to overthrow Visquis in the past and failed. At the end was a locked door. Ludmilla stared at it in frustration.
"Now what am I supposed to do?" she snapped to the empty air.
Suddenly an alarm went off, and the security failed, the door swinging open.
"Oh. I guess I should trust in the Force." Ludmilla entered the secret Exchange base. "That was kind of cheesy, though. I wonder who opened the door."
The guards in the base weren't normal mercenaries, or bounty hunters. She stopped when she saw the first pair, in their distinctive green breathing masks.
"Ubese." They blamed all Jedi, Dark or Light, for the horrors that had befallen their world. They would eagerly accept any contract that involved killing a Jedi.
The Ubese threw grenades first, hoping to weaken her. Stories of how to kill Jedi are handed down from generation to generation among the Ubese.
Ludmilla jumped, bouncing from one wall to another to avoid the grenades and closed with the Ubese warriors. She put her lightsaber away. Against their cortosis blades it would only be a handicap – the peculiar ore would short out a lightsaber for crucial seconds. They knew a lot about how to deal with Jedi. They did not, however, know how to deal with a Mandalorian.
She punched the closer of the two, the force of the blow cracking the breathing mask. The Ubese choked, unable to breathe the atmosphere here. She dodged the blade of the second, and dropped him with a savage kick to the stomach that cracked his environmental suit. A hissing noise heralded his impending death. More Ubese ran in, enraged at seeing their clan members fall.
"Trust in your armor, trust in your blades," she sang as she threw punches and kicks among the Ubese, using their numbers against them. "Your armor is your strength, your blades are your soul." Ubese armor wasn't like Mandalorian armor. It wasn't meant for melee combat. Mandalorian armor, on the other hand, was strong enough to protect its wearer while falling through atmosphere to the surface of a planet. "Wear armor with pride, wield blades with honor," she sang as more Ubese came in to be beaten at her hands. They were too careful of their clan to risk shooting into the combat or to use grenades. "All Mandalore beneath the mask, one clan, one family, one hold!" Their skills in melee combat were no match for a warrior trained at Mandalorian hands, let alone one who moved with the speed of a Jedi. The last Ubese warrior fell, and Ludmilla drew her lightsaber again before running down the hall.
The Ubese here shot at her, but she deflected their blaster fire with her lightsaber. Two shots bounced back perfectly, killing the Ubese who had fired them. The final Ubese warrior turned to run, and Ludmilla threw her lightsaber, using the Force to control its arc and return. The Ubese warrior fell to the ground, his armor shattered by the blow. Ludmilla sensed one more sentient being in this area, and walked over to a large arena. The bodies of Kath hounds lay scattered, blown apart by well-placed mines. In the center of the arena stood the Quarren, Visquis.
"Where is Mira?" Ludmilla demanded.
"She has escaped," said the Quarren, his face tentacles twitching in agitation. "But that is not important. You have arrived, and we can have our meeting, at last."
The Quarren was telling the truth – Mira must have opened the door to the tunnels as part of her escape, Ludmilla realized. "All right, we're meeting. What did you want with me?"
"Human impatience. Very well, we shall dispense with pleasantries. You have disturbed the flow of business here on Nar Shadaa with your actions. You have killed my underlings and employees. You have made it difficult, if not impossible, for my organization to continue on a profitable basis in this sector."
"You're the ones who put a bounty on my head. Now I've earned it," Ludmilla said calmly.
"Are you indeed the Exile, then? I expected a different type of Jedi. No matter. My boss – my soon-to-be-deceased boss – is the one who has placed the monumental sum on your head. Goto. A mysterious man, who came from nowhere and is never seen. It is not known to all, but the true reward for bringing you to him would enable any bounty hunter who captured you to buy their own planet."
"Goto? Never heard of him."
"Few have," Visquis continued. "And yet, his hands are everywhere, and in everything. I do not know why he desires you to be captured alive, but he does. And that is why you will be the perfect bait." The Quarren equivalent of a smile involves moving face tentacles in a way that makes Humans very queasy, and Ludmilla had to look away before she lost her last meal.
The door next to where Ludmilla had entered opened, and a group of mercenaries in unfamiliar armor entered. There was something slightly odd about the way they moved.
"Attack her!" Visquis commanded. "Kill the Jedi."
"While the Jedi remains on Nar Shadaa," boomed a voice from the loudspeakers, "my eyes shall remain on her. She is not to be harmed. Were those not my instructions, Visquis?"
The Quarren fell to his knees, covering his head in fear, and the strange mercenaries ran past Ludmilla to attack Visquis.
"Let me guess," said Ludmilla. "That's your boss, isn't it?"
"No!" shrieked the Quarren. "You misunderstand, Goto! The Jedi is a gift!"
"Enough," boomed the voice from the loudspeaker. "Kill Visquis and bring the Jedi to me."
Ludmilla watched the mercenaries move and realized that they were droids, not men. She frowned. They were the most heavily armed and armored droids she had seen, and there were ten of them. A single such droid would cost more than a battlecruiser.
"Jedi. Will you come willingly? Or must I command my servants to subdue you?"
Ludmilla deactivated her lightsaber and put it away. She knew her limits.