Coming Out of the Dark, Chapter 1 Trask has a Crush

Trask Ulgo whistled softly under his breath as his shift came to an end. The young ensign aboard the Endar Spire was always ecstatic when it was time for him to go back to his quarters. Most people thought it was because his shift was long and arduous, which it was. Or they assumed he was happy to be able to get some sleep, which he desperately needed. That was also true, but the reason that Trask always hurried when he got off duty, the real reason for his glee, was the woman he shared his quarters with, a scout named Gia-Sade.

With the Republic at the losing end of a Civil War between the Sith and the Jedi Order, the entire galaxy was thrown into chaos. Added to that, his own demons were coming back to haunt him because he just found out that they were headed to Taris. What was left of his family had been originally from that planet, until a rival family had sent assassins to exterminate them. He had only survived because he had joined the fleet at eighteen. Thankfully, his parents and sister had relocated to Corellia, but he still felt the loss of uncles, aunts, grandparents, and dozens of cousins. He only hoped he wouldn't have to go down to the planet himself.

Yes, it felt good to 'come home' to the sight of a beautiful woman. Ironically, he'd never spoken to her because the only time he saw her was when she was asleep. He worked the day-shifts and she worked nights. For Trask this was a blessing because beautiful women left him tongue-tied. From what he heard about her, she would probably reject any invitation to socialize with him.

He knew she was a Scout and was transferred to the Spire as a guide and translator for Bastila and the other Jedi on board. It was rumored that she knew almost one hundred alien languages and many more dialects. He'd also heard that since none of those skills had been needed thus far on their mission, she had requested to work with the droid technicians. Her request was granted, and now she practically ran the department because she was so good.

Yet despite all of these amazing skills, she preferred to work alone. She never ate with any other crew members, and when she wasn't working she was in their quarters. One thing everybody was gossiping about was how polite she was. The officers admired her professionalism, and the enlisted crew and techs were overjoyed that they were treated with the same courtesy that their superiors demanded. Trask wondered how someone s o gracious could stand being so isolated. If he didn't know better, he'd say she was almost like a Jedi without a lightsaber.

He chuckled to himself every time he thought of the fifty Jedi on this mission. Now *they* were antisocial; particularly Bastila, the Jedi in charge of the mission. She stayed on the bridge and never talked to junior officers or enlisted crew. Most of the Jedi with her followed her lead. Trask thought it was strange that there was always a Jedi watching his lovely roommate when she was on duty. He knew that because he had a pazaak buddy that worked with her often. He figured that was why she was always locked in their small quarters - she needed her privacy.

He smiled brightly as he quietly stepped into the room. He had his routine down to a science. As the doors closed, he carefully took off his boots and slowly went near the young woman's bunk. Once again, like every evening since his first evening in his quarters, he was awestruck by the feminine beauty catching her last few minutes of rest. His first impression was shock over her height. She was six feet tall without boots. He knew this because her feet were at the very edge of her bunk. She wasn't a peaceful sleeper, for her bedding was always a mess whenever he came in. He wasn't complaining about it, though, for the mangled bedclothes afforded him a view of what lay underneath. Gia-Sade wore very conservative civilian cloths when on duty, but for bed she favored grey silk camisoles with matching shorts. These allowed him a view of her beautiful skin and body, with enough modesty to allow himself to look.

Her coloring was exquisite! Trask had seen his share of exotic beauties of various species, and his roommate definitely was at the top of the list. Her skin was flawless like a perfect pearl, creamy, and luminous with just a hint of rose undertone. Not one blemish marred it, not even a single freckle or childhood scar. Her thick wavy hair was just a shade short of black, contrasting with such fair skin. He hadn't seen her with her eyes open, but scuttlebutt said they were the color of a summer-noon sky on a cloudless day. Her eyelashes were the longest and thickest Trask had ever seen, curling ever-so-slightly at their tips.

All of this perfection was enough to make any man pleased to look, but she had an even bigger attraction. Her figure was better than any dancer he had ever seen. She had endless legs that were toned, a small waist, and gently curved hips. Trask had been raised a gentleman so staring at her cleavage wasn't something he made a habit of, but even that was perfect.

Trask wasn't the only man who appreciated the young woman's looks. It seemed that every single man on board spent their time ogling her or Bastila. That is, everyone except Carth Onasi, but Trask thought that was because he hadn't seen her. Yes, he could definitely say that his morale was kept high because of a lovely roommate, but he had to hurry and get into the shower. Her alarm would be going off in five minutes and he didn't want to get caught staring. She would think he was a pervert.

Beep, beep, beep, beep... The electronic chirping of the ghastly alarm awoke Gia-Sade from yet another disturbing dream. She had been dreaming about the Mandalorian War again, seeing all three of her brothers die. Thankfully, she hadn't been screaming or crying. She didn't want to explain blood-shot eyes to the officer in charge. A deep blush heated itself over her entire body as she felt her roommate's 'admiration' for her again. Sometimes she wondered if she should find him and tell him that she was an empath. Again, she dismissed the idea. She knew when she took this job for the Republic privacy would be a luxury she would no longer have. Besides, she wanted to spare him and herself any further embarrassment.

Very few people knew of her home-world, Deralia, and even fewer knew that her people, although human, were empaths. She found it difficult to be on board a ship with this many people. Blocking out two hundred and fifty highly emotional sentient beings was taxing on her mentally. She almost felt sorry for the Jedi on board, but she disliked their superior attitude toward the crew. She understood that most sentients distrusted others with empathic abilities. It was too easy for them to manipulate people who weren't, so she kept to herself and mainly worked with the techs. Working the night shift ensured that fewer people were around and droids didn't have emotions, so she was assured of a peaceful and productive night's work.

`Who knows,' she thought, `Maybe ensign Ulgo will stop staring at me every night.' Sighing to herself, she got out of bed and quickly made it up neater than a seasoned Admiral. Then she went to her footlocker and pulled out one of her seven identical outfits. She wore sturdy brown leather boots with a high heel, brown leather pants, and a matching vest. A soft cream linen blouse and her silver wrist cuff completed the ensemble. The cuff's design was her family crest; two crescent moons above and below a star sapphire, set into a solid cuff. It was all she had left of her family. Her mother had died in child-birth with her, leaving only her father and three older brothers. When the Mandalorian Wars began, the whole family enlisted to help the Republic. Only she had survived.

She had only barely escaped with her life. During the final battle she'd been in a massive explosion, leaving her in a coma for almost a year. It took long and hard work, but she had regained not only her body but most of her memory, as well. Occasionally her short-term memory lagged, and the healers said that the damage would never heal. She was thankful to be alive, but sometimes there were days that she would gladly give up her life rather than be as alone as she was.

Going to the small mirror in the room, she took a comb and hastily braided her shoulder-length tresses. She was just beginning to allow her hair to grow back after a three year period of mourning for her dead. There had been a time when she vowed to never grow it back, but in time she realized that her father and brothers would want her to let go of the pain and live. Once her hair was tightly braided, she applied one coat of scarlet lipstick, and left to report to the bridge.

The sensors were picking up a multitude of echoes, and the officer in charge of civilian personnel had asked her to take a look after the techs couldn't isolate the problem. Gia was excited, not only for the challenge, but also because she was hoping to actually talk to a Jedi. Despite her personal disapproval of the Order's refusal to aid the Republic during the Mandalorian Wars, she admired those who eventually did come and help, even if she didn't know exactly who they were. She had served as a scout then, as well, and she had still never met one. She hoped that would change tonight.

Making her way down the corridors, she tried to avoid the leering eyes of some men, and politely bowed to those who greeted her. She loved the relative quiet during the night shift. Going to the mess hall to get her evening meal, she was relieved to find it almost abandoned, save for the cooking droids and a handful of people engaged in a pazaak game. She briefly considered joining in, but she knew that the Republic pay was rather low, and she had won over five thousand credits from the last championship match she had played in just before her transfer to the Endar Spire.

Going to the counter, she wrinkled her small, up-turned nose at the selection of greasy meats and vegetables floating in their gravy. One thing she decidedly *did not* care for was the food. She always wished she could go back and reprogram the droid chefs to make more healthy and appetizing meals, but she knew her request would be refused. `Anything is better than the synthesizer, or rations,' she reasoned. Finally deciding on the pasta with vegetables and white sauce, she went to her usual table in the farthest, and darkest, corner in the room. Here was the best place; where she could eat and not be disturbed by the emotions of the others.

Gia was about half-way through her meal when suddenly her senses were assaulted by waves of loneliness and distrust. Turning her head, she was stunned. The most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on had chosen a table very n ear hers. It was obvious the man desired solitude as much as she did. She judged him to be about six-foot-four inches tall and one hundred-ninety pounds of solid muscle. She had never seen him before; she knew because she had a photographic and autographic memory. He wore a strikingly loud orange leather flight jacket, military boots, and brown pants. `Definitely military. He's probably off duty or he'd be in uniform. He's a pilot. That's probably why I haven't seen him,' she thought.

Continuing her appraisal, she judged him to be in his mid-to-late thirties. His stride was strong and confident. She knew at once that he had seen many battles, probably survived the Mandalorian Wars, and now the most brutal battles of this war. His deep brown eyes spoke of unimaginable sorrow that she strained to block from her consciousness, yet she could not tear her eyes away from him. Her long study of the Echani arts had taught her to read movement as clearly as her Deralian blood allowed her to read emotions. This powerful man was one of honor and strong character that life, or the Force, had sent many hardships. Gia knew very little about the Force, but what she had heard and seen convinced her of its existence. She only hoped that the war would turn in the Republic's favor. Perhaps then his burdens would disappear.

Carth Onasi knew he was being watched. Every hair on his body stood on end. He carefully looked around the room and saw the profile of a young woman in the back corner. She appeared to be engrossed in her badly cooked pasta, but he could tell she had been watching him as soon as he entered the room... `I don't know her. She must be that last minute addition to the crew Bastila had demanded. Why is she staring at me? I know she isn't a Jedi; that's the only thing Bastila *would* tell me about her. Besides, she isn't wearing a lightsaber and the few crew members that have been bunking together have spread it all around the ship that the Jedi *always* have their sabers. Come to think of it, there's also talk about her being constantly shadowed by a Jedi whenever she steps out of her quarters,' Carth mused. Looking up, he saw one of the Jedi in the pazaak game. `Looks like that rumor is true. I'll have to look her up in the crew manifest.'

He quickly finished eating and headed to his quarters to do just that. If Bastila and the Jedi were watching this woman's every move, he would as well. Then tomorrow he would attempt yet again to get some information from Bastila. Superior or not, he was getting pretty sick of the young woman's secrecy and aloofness. He was supposed to act as her advisor, since he was the most experienced member of the crew in combat and in seniority in the fleet.

But since he had met the young and gifted Padawan, she had rarely listened to anything he said. Carth knew that when it came to the Force he knew very little, despite being born and raised on a planet that had been full of Jedi children who never were chosen as apprentices. But Bastila seemed to consider it necessary to point out his non-Jedi status at every opportunity. Taking a deep breath, he reminded himself that without Bastila they would all be under Sith rule, and more than likely he would be dead. For the former, he was very grateful. If the Republic fell, the last part of his life would die with it. Clenching his fist, he reminded himself that he also had his revenge to live for.

Saul Karath, the ultimate traitor to the Republic, still had to die for what he had done to Telos. Malak and Revan were secondary in Carth's mind. Somehow the Force was partly to blame in their betrayal. Not so of his former mentor. He turned traitor for pure greed and power, finally turning his own home into nothing but an uninhabitable wasteland. Carth's dear wife, Morgana, and sweet son, Dustil, had died in that attack. Just the thought of his young son dying all alone made Carth's rage blaze hot in his blood. He tried to quickly quell it, not wanting Bastila or another Jedi to sense him. If anyone knew of his plans for the former Republic Admiral, he'd be grounded and possibly lose his rank as well. Carth couldn't let that happen. After taking several deep breaths, he was again in control.

`OK, Onasi, Saul will get what he deserves. For now, find out what you can about that woman who had her eyes on you tonight,' he admonished himself. He wasn't a stranger to women staring at him. Morgana had always teased him about his 'drop-dead gorgeous looks.' She'd bait him, saying, 'Beauty, brains, a fortune, and an ace pilot! How can we mere mortal women resist?' It used to make him laugh, but now, like everything else, laughter in his heart was dead. The mysterious woman in the mess hall wasn't ogling anyway. She watched him as if she could see into his heart, and frankly the thought terrified him.

On the bridge, Gia-Sade was thinking every curse in every language she knew. She would never, ever, voice them, but she was that irritated with the module she was trapped under. The sensors kept echoing no matter how many algorithms she reset. Huffing in frustration, she decided to check the binary codes in the computer's internal communication matrix. It was a long-shot, for the binary codes in the Republic's Capital ships were ruthlessly guarded. The odds of a breakdown occurring were astronomical, but she was definitely out of options.

Normally she'd contact her superior for the access codes to get into the communications matrix, but he'd warned her not to contact him unless something blew up. He had pulled a triple shift trying to fix this problem and needed sleep. She knew these modules like the back of her hand. She could easily slice her way in without causing more damage. While not strictly Republic military procedure, she would be fulfilling orders, and she was a civilian. With a wry smirk, she easily accessed the communications matrix. As she had guessed, the binary code was a scrambled mess.

`This is going to take a while. Either it's the nastiest virus I've ever seen or someone did this deliberately. Hopefully I can find out,' her lips pursed together at the grim thought. Just before she got down to work, she felt a wave of rage coming from someone on the ship. Gia couldn't be sure, but she guessed it was the man from the mess hall. He had some of the most powerful emotions she had picked up on in a very long time. `Surely the Jedi can feel them if I can. Why won't they help him?' she wondered, aching from his palpable despair. `If they won't, then I'll try. Nobody deserves to suffer like this. I should know,' she decided. Her mind made up, she returned to her work. She only hoped the Force would help them 'officially' meet.

It was the early hours of the morning when Gia finished cleaning the mess in the sensors. She was stiff from being in the same position for hours and both legs were fast asleep as well. She carefully crawled out from under the module she now knew better than her own body. She winced while standing up and came face to face with a Jedi. For a moment, she stood with her mouth open, tongue-tied. The young man's face had a bemused expression.

'Is there something I can help you with, Miss?' he asked in a very formal tone.

'Why no, thank you, Master Jedi. I was just leaving to submit my report. I'm sorry, where are my manners? My name is Gia-Sade. It's a pleasure to meet you,' she replied with a formal bow.

'Yes, I know who you are, Miss. You'd better hurry to submit your report, and then rest. We'll need you at your best for your next shift,' he ordered shortly.

He walked away, leaving Gia stunned and angry. `First of all, how does he know my name? Second, what right does he have to speak to me so rudely? I was so pleased to finally speak to a Jedi and now I wish I hadn't bothered,' she thought bitterly. At least the sensors were running at optimum efficiency. 'The lieutenant will be happy,' she said aloud to cheer herself up. Then she slowly began her walk to his station, eagerly awaiting a hot breakfast, a shower, and her warm bunk.