Zira Darkstar

***
A/N: Didn't have access to the net for quite a while. We were visiting friends. I took my laptop and got 3 chapters written. So, I'm sorry they didn't update as I finished. I'll post them now. As always: Rate and Review. I want to you like the style or if I should alter it a bit.
~Beta'd by Envy~
***

Chapter 5

Zira had returned to their apartment and removed her boots at the door. She felt kind of dazed. After leaving Dia’s room, she had started looking through her rucksack. She had all kinds of things she hadn’t found aboard the Endar Spire.

Trying to make up the lost time in her head, she came to the realization that they’d been on this planet for a few days. Carth had been kind enough to keep her safe, but he probably hadn’t made her get up and shower. The thought sent a shiver throughout Zira, and she suddenly felt as though she were filthy.

She slinked quietly across the room, not wanting to wake Carth. I seriously don’t think I could stand a lecture right now. After depositing her sack on the large central table she slipped into the refresher.

She found it to have a small, stand up shower with only one towel on the rack. Carth must have bought that, it looks new. Wonder why he didn’t buy one for me? She ruefully thought. Oh well, guess he’ll just have to use a damp towel when he gets up.

Unconsciously she made note that she wasn’t wearing the armor she’d obtained while fleeing for her life with Trask. Instead, she was back in her pale jumpsuit, minus the red jacket. She lazily reached back and clicked the door lock on the refresher door and began to peel the clingy fabric from her body.

Her mind began to roll through the events that had transpired over the last few days. She remembered being thrown from her bunk and fleeing for her life across a doomed vessel. She also recalled meeting Carth, but she couldn’t seem to remember the trip down to Taris. She couldn’t remember anything before the Endar Spire, in fact.

Carth had said something about a blow to the head. She noticed a small, dingy mirror above a tiny sink. Judging by the shade of her jumpsuit, she could tell it needed to be washed anyway. She dampened the cloth of one sleeve and wiped down the mirror so she could see herself.

It didn’t surprise her that the image looking back held no value. The woman staring back had unkempt, long black hair that at one point was tied back. The hair had managed to all but liberate itself from it’s elastic oppressor.

The thought of her hair shouting “mutiny” and storming the tie still barely holding on to the tip of a pony tail brought a smile to her lips. The image in the mirror mimicked her amusement, but it still didn’t strike her as familiar.

I was… a smuggler. I think. I remember a freighter… threat of prison. I made a deal, I think. She didn’t much care for the fact that her own thoughts were filled with speculation and doubt. She tentatively began to feel about her head for the wound that had caused her to be suffering this bout of amnesia.

The only thing she found was a mostly healed scab just below her bang line, hidden by the black activists that fell about her face. The smile returned. I wonder if my hair will merit it’s own seat in the senate. It does demand freedom. Guess I’ll do to it what many worlds do with rioters. I’ll blast it with water!

She stripped away the last of her clothing, the tight underwear felt as dirty to her as the mirror once was. She gratefully cast it aside and looked down at herself. A body that sparked no memory, but it told a story nonetheless.

She had very few scars and the ones she did have, still seemed fresh. She must have gone through some kind of treatment to remove any scars from her body, or perhaps, she simply lead some kind of sheltered life and was devoid of them to begin with. The small scar at her stomach brought up a particularly painful memory.

She knew she might have died aboard the Spire if it hadn’t been for Trask. It would probably have been a slow, painful way to die. She felt a tug of grief as she remembered looking up at him. Maybe it was because he had been such a strong figure, or maybe it was because he was there for her from her “first” memory, but Trask seemed to instill something in Zira that had caused her to trust him, whole heartedly.

“I’ll try to hold him off!” He’d said to her. He knew he couldn’t have won. So, why? Why would he have done that, for me? I’m nobody special. No great Jedi or Sith. I wasn’t even a ranking officer on board his ship…

The water was suddenly getting cold, and she blinked away the cinema playing behind her eyes. She must have gotten in the shower while she was reminiscing. She scrambled with the soaps that were on the shelf in the shower. She clumsily fumbled with the bottle of shampoo and again with the body soap. The steadily decreasing temperature of the water had sent her into a stupid panic.

She flew through the motions of cleansing herself and turned off the shower. She stood for a second, hunched at the shoulders. The water had become freezing by the time she’d managed to get the soap off of her, and she was a bit stunned. She chastised herself quietly and opened the shower door.

She quickly grabbed the towel and began to dry herself off. Her hair mutinied again by dripping icy droplets on her every time it moved. “Keep up this, and I’ll see you court-martialed for sure!” She whispered at her own hair. “I can get scissors y’know?” She, instead, decided to smother the insurgents with her towel.

Her navy blues looked contemptibly at the clothing sprawled across the floor. The very idea of crawling back into them left a bitter taste in her mouth. Which, raised a new problem. She realized that she hadn’t had the presence of mind to bring in a change of clothes from her pack. It was instead sitting out in the other room.

“Damn it…” She wrapped the towel around herself and was annoyed that Carth had gotten a towel so small. The cloth barely spanned from the top of her full breasts to below her firm, rounded bottom. She sneered at her own endowments for a moment. Another part of an unfamiliar body had risen to try and usurp her command.

If only they were a little smaller this cloth would cover plenty! Of course, if I‘d been paying attention, it wouldn‘t have had to. She conceded and moved to the door. Wish I had my stealth field generator… She thought longingly and cracked it open.

She could hear Carth’s breathing, and it was still long and steady. He must still be asleep. She stealthily darted across the room, her bare feet making virtually no sound on the cold metal floor. It took her a moment of digging, but she did managed to find where Carth had placed her armor and the underlay that go with it.

The idea of the warm, long dark sleeves over-ridded her knowledge of the sleeping Carth. She quickly swept the towel away and began to pull the clothing on. She finished pulling on the shirt quickly and then plunged her glistening legs into the corresponding pant legs then pulled them up and fastened them in the front

She was still going to need the belt, as whoever owned the armor before her was a little bigger that she was. A tender smile played across her lips as she looked down at the suit. She decided it wasn’t as unattractive now as it had been when it was geared up. It lacked the ugly brown vest, and the gaudy utility belt that cinched it the pants closed.

She admired the simple dark fabric as it played across her features. The pants were a little big and had slouched down one hip and the sleeves were a little long so they covered her hands. She balled her hands in the end of the sleeves and turned to go gather her things from the refresher.

She’d only barely finished coming about when she froze, dead in her tracks. Carth was standing there, practically staring. He had obviously just stood from the bed, but he still was just staring back at her. The realization that she had just been naked a second before hand hit Zira square in the forehead and her cheeks turned a brilliant shade of red because of it.

“G-good m-morning Carth.” Her tongue felt like durasteel in her mouth; it didn’t want to move or form a sentence.

Carth simply nodded and turned towards the refresher, without a word. Zira felt her heart sink. He must have seen… Great! As if things weren’t awkward enough around here, you have to go and prance yourself around naked on the second day you know the man! While she continued to berate herself about how stupid what she had done had been, Carth let himself into the refresher and closed the door.

To add insult to injury, a new sense of dread overwhelmed Zira. My clothes are still in there… my filthy underwear is still in there… She flew to the door, and wrenched it open. She had every intention of simply snatching her things and slamming the door again, but her plan had obviously not been thought through.

Carth had just finished undoing his trousers and was about to relieve himself when the door flew open. Zira froze, the odd sight burned immediately into her mind’s eye. Carth was quick to cover himself up, but the image of him holding his engorged endowment was still all Zira could see. “Do you mind!?”

Carth’s voice snapped her back into reality; she crouched quickly and without saying anything grabbed her clothing and slammed the door closed.

Zira’s heart was beating so fast in her chest that she was almost positive it was going to explode outward at any moment. She could feel her cheeks burning from embarrassment. She stiffly managed to walk away from the door and settle in one of the chairs near the small table.

Somewhere in her mind, she registered the shower water starting up. Her original thought was to tell Carth there was no more hot water, but the mortification of the past five minutes prevented any such courage. Instead she went to the work bench and found a few of the tools still operational. It only took her a moment to retrieve her vibroblade and begin inserting the improved vibration cell into it.

By the time she was finished, the shower water had ceased emanating from the refresher. She tried to act nonchalantly as she put the vibroblade home into the waiting sheath. A few minutes passed and the door still hadn’t opened. She was starting to get a little worried she may have offended him. Rather than dwell on it, she went through the motions of looping her belt and pulling on the ugly green vest.

Her ebony locks had begun to form a slight curl as they fell haphazardly about her face and neck. The hair was still heavy with water when she ran her fingers through it to either side, pulling it back into a tail. Some loose strands escaped the tie almost immediately and fell forward to frame her face.

The door finally opened as she was laying the vibroblade back across her back. She had calmed enough now that she had every intention of pretending like nothing had happened, but the sight of Carth walking out of the refresher seemed to splinter her resolve. She did, however, suppress the blush that threatened her cheeks once more.

Carth walked out with his strong, muscled arms curled upwards rubbing a towel through his hair. He must have had another one out here. She realized as he crossed the area towards his bunk. He had put on his pants but not his shirt.

Zira couldn’t help but take in the sight. He was still gleaming as sunlight played across the water still on his well muscled chest. Unlike her, Carth’s chest and back were a tangle of assorted scars, hidden among small thin patches of dark hair that were ran down his chest and stomach. He dropped the towel onto the bed and was already rummaging through his large backpack.

While Zira watched, he pulled free a faded black tee-shirt and pulled it over his head. He picked up his red-orange jacket and pulled it on. A moment later, he was already clipping his blaster holsters to his belt and checking the charge on the power supplies. He motioned for the door and started towards it.

Zira nodded to him, her throat still tight and she didn’t think she could form words at the moment.

The door to the apartment opened upon a horrifying scene. A tall lanky man wearing a Sith officer’s uniform was barking orders at some Duros up ahead. He was flanked on either side by combat droids, who’s blasters were already trained on the unarmed aliens. He, himself, was holding a long standard blaster rifle to his shoulder. “Okay you alien scum, everybody up against the wall! This is a raid!”

One of the two Duros before him held his hands out, in an exasperated manner. The Duros blurted out, in his own language, “There was a patrol here just yesterday, and they found nothing! Why do you Sith keep bothering us?”

The Sith officer wasted no time whatsoever in tightening his grip on the trigger. A red beam of light lanced from the weapon and charred a hole into the large forehead of the blue skinned alien. “That’s how we Sith deal with smart-mouth aliens! Now the rest of you get up against the wall before I lose my temper again!” His eyes scanned the crowd quickly and then stopped on Zira and Carth. “Hey, what’s this? Humans hiding out with aliens?” He seemed to reach a conclusion before he’d even finished is own inquiry. “They’re Republic fugitives! Attack!” He commanded the droids who both turned and leveled blasters at the human pair.

Zira’s reflexes were as sharp as ever. She dropped forward into a low, crouched run and rushed the trio of Sith. Her right hand seized the hilt of the blade on her back and ripped it free of it’s confines, a metallic ring resonating from the blade as she did so. Her left hand moved just as fast, finding the hilt of the long sword she was now wearing at her left hip. She straight armed the weapon, loosing it as well from the hilt and threw it towards the Duros.

Blasters pierced the air on either side of her head, the energy trail burning the air she breathed in along her rush. The Duros caught the thrown weapon by the hilt and drove it down into the neck joint of one of the two combat droids.

Carth had wasted no time, having sharp reflexes of his own, in drawing his blasters and answered the poorly aimed volley with one of his own. The shots both scored hits into the chest plate of the droid that the Duros’ blade had connected with. The shots were rewarded with a shower of sparks as droid’s innards detonated, and it collapsed in a heap to the ground.

Zira had crossed the distance of the hallway in a flash, and she threw herself into the air. She had taken the handle of her weapon in both hands, and as she descended, she brought the blade down in a powerful downward arc at the Sith commander. His eyes were laced with fear and he barely managed to lift his rifle up as a defensive shield to parry the attack.

Zira’s feet connected with the floor again and she drove down on the weapon, putting her full weight into the blade. In the man’s panic his finger tightened on the trigger and the muzzle kicked. The shot connected with the shoulder of the Duros they were helping and dropped him to the ground.

Carth, who had lost any chance of a clear shot at the commander, instead fired an over charged blast from both of his pistols at the same time into the other droid. One energy blast burned through the droid’s face, removing it’s head completely from it’s frame. The other blast connected with the power cell on the droid’s blaster, melting it into slag.

The muzzle kick from the rifle had given Zira an opportunity to move the sword in a wide, sweeping arc away from the barrel. The man staggered back a step and tried to line the blaster up again with his shoulder; a huge mistake. Zira thrust the blade straight forward, the tip sinking into the man’s chest between two ribs and into the heart.

The man coughed up some blood that splattered the floor and collapsed backwards, lifeless. Zira’s breath had become calm and controlled in her actions. She wiped the blade clean on the man’s pant leg, drew in a long, deep sigh and looked over to Carth.

He had knelt over the Duros they had rescued and was helping him to his feet. The pale blue skinned alien was already looking at his fallen companion. “Poor Ixgil. He should never have talked back to that Sith. Thankfully you were here to step in and help us, human. This isn’t the first time the Sith have come in here to cause trouble for us, but hopefully it will be the last.”

Zira, who was already policing the remains of the trio, looked up at him. The one droid’s blaster rifle had still been in good repair and the Sith’s backpack held some supplies. Spare energy cells for a blaster rifle, a frag grenade, a poison grenade, and a couple stims were added to the lot in her bag. The idea that killing Sith would make them suddenly go away didn’t seem logical to her. “Won’t someone come searching for this patrol?”

“Don’t worry about the bodies.” He said looking down upon them with disgust. “I will move them so it looks like they were killed elsewhere. That should throw the Sith off the track. With any luck, they won’t be bothering us again for a while.”

Zira nodded curtly too him, and Carth seemed to understand as well. The man had deserved to die, and in the heat of battle, it wasn’t like they had much choice anyway. The idea that his death would at least serve them in luring Sith patrols away was a bit of a consolation prize.

They didn’t bother with pleasantries or goodbyes. They left the alien to his work and decided to get away from the apartment building for a while. The central corridor was a long circular hallway that apartments spread outward from.

Zira watched several of the cleaning droids going about their work and grinned to herself. They would scrub clean and sanitize any trace of the man’s blood without a second’s thought or hesitation. She felt a fond sense of remembrance as her eyes passed over Dia’s door.

She would have to make good on her word, as soon as possible. Carth had begun talking to a Twi’lek who was bragging about energy shields. She thought to ask a couple questions, but she decided, instead, to just move along. She figured Carth would get the hint.

She was almost all the way to the door before Carth caught up with her. They left the apartments and exited onto the large walkways of Taris. Zira could see the downed pod that must surely be theirs perched precariously on the edge of the walkway. Sith patrols were thick on the streets; they seemed to quickly regard anyone who seemed suspicious and try to shake them down for information.

Zira looked back over her shoulder at Carth. He seemed to want to talk about something, and she realized that they hadn’t said a word since their awkward morning. She cleared her throat and slowed her pace to fall into stride with Carth at her side. “Carth?”

Carth turned a kind, curious look upon her while they walked. “Yes? What’s on your mind?”

Zira wasn’t sure what to talk about, so, she figured perhaps he would be able to speak about himself for a while. She needed to say something to dissolve this awkwardness between them. “I’d like to know more about you, Carth.”

He looked a bit taken aback. His tone came slow and seemed apprehensive. “Me? Well, I’ve been a star-pilot for the Republic for years. I’ve seen more than my share of wars… I fought in the Mandalorian Wars before all this started.” His shoulders slumped a bit and he felt even more distant.

“But with all that, I’ve never experienced anything like the slaughter these Sith animals can unleash.
Not even the Mandalorians were that senseless. My home world was one o the first planets to fall to Malak’s fleet. The Sith bombed it into submission, and there wasn’t a damn thing our Republic forces could do to stop them!” He had flared up. He seemed guarded, resentful, and even guilty.

Zira carefully measured her words, “You’re talking like it’s your fault. Like you failed somehow.” She was hoping that he would understand that it wasn’t his fault, that her statement would reassure him to such, but he only flared up again.

“It shouldn’t be my fault. I did everything I could… I followed my orders and did my duty. That shouldn’t mean I failed them! I didn’t!”

She bit her lip a moment and mulled over his words. She was now genuinely curious as to what, exactly, he had lost. “Them? Do you mean the people of your home world?” Concern bled through her voice.

Carth started, stopped, then started again his shoulders looked as though they had suddenly taken on the weight of all Taris. “Yes. No…. no, that’s not what I mean. I mean…” He took a long pause then shook his head, obviously dismissing a thought. “I’m sorry. I’m not making much sense, am? You probably mean well with your questions. I’m just not accustomed to talking about my past very much. At all, actually. I’m more used to taking action… keeping my mind focused on the business at hand. So let’s do that. If you have more questions, ask them later.”

Zira nodded. She wanted to explain to him that she understood; that everything was alright now. She couldn’t bring herself to do either. She didn’t know that she understood, and she had nothing in her memory to even compare to his loss. Trask’s death didn’t seem to be anything compared to what Carth had experienced, and she didn’t want to insult him by trying to compare the two.

She couldn’t say that everything was alright either. It obviously wasn’t, or else he wouldn’t be plagued by it still. Haunted by some distant memories.

They came upon a shop called the Equipment Emporium, and she decided to enter. The shop was a deep, long rectangular building. The wall to the right of the doorway had benches that were lined with weapons, armor and explosives. One of them stood out, and Zira recognized it to be a permacrete detonator. They were notoriously expensive and far to impractical to use as a weapon during combat.

There was a protocol droid clanking about the room and a tall, think woman standing behind a counter. She had dark mocha skin and large full lips. The woman was kind of plain however, and it seemed she was more into gear then personal appearance. She wore a loose vest and an ugly, drab green undershirt with matching pants. Carth had already struck up a conversation.

The woman, Keebla Yurt, was in the process of telling Carth there would be no bargaining. She commented that it wasn’t a “swap meet.” Carth seemed to try a persuasion tactic that involved walking off when the woman wouldn’t bargain. It failed and Zira had to rush to catch up to him.

Both of them were slightly on edge as they continued, following a sign that pointed them towards the local cantina. The tension didn’t lessen when they reached the door to the cantina, as there was a Sith trooper standing guard at the door. They both stayed ready to draw their weapons, but he didn’t make any moves and they entered without a hassle.

Zira looked up at Carth as they entered and smiled. “We might be better off if we split up for a while. We can question people in here and see if we can’t get a lead, or at least some info on a lead.”

Carth nodded, he seemed to want some space anyway. He proved it by wandering deeper into the cantina without another word.

She watched him go till the dim light of the cantina made it impossible to see him any longer, absently wondering just what was happening inside his head.!