So named because it is located one thousand, three hundred, and thirteen levels from the core of Coruscant, Level 1313 is distanced from the politics of the upper levels. Overlooking the chasm burrowing further into Coruscant’s core, one can watch freighters transporting their illicit cargo between levels. One misstep would send the careless careening into the bottomless pit, or aid the local gangs in staging “accidents.”

Weathered duracrete forms the retainer along the chasm wall, built in concentric rings that descend down an untold height. Strengthened with solid durasteel braces, maintenance has not been needed this far into Coruscant for a long time. Nevertheless, droids pre-programmed to fill in the cracks and crevices that might form in the walls float on repulsorlifts without drawing attention from the criminal gangs; themselves, being focused on their next smuggling operation or struggle for control over Coruscant’s scum-filled underbelly.

Lexiconus stared into gaping maw of the Coruscanti chasm and his focus spaced out, only on the low hums coming from below. His breathing slowed as sweat began to trickle and surround him. The vehicles ascending and descending grew quiet, fading from his attention. Only the vibrations of the chasm existed in his head, and it called to the Quarren. It flowed through his body, shaking his legs and giving him a cold shiver but it refused to give in. Lexiconus was only dragged back to reality when he heard the muffled calls of his partner, retrieving him from his faded state.

“Lex! Hey! You in there?” The vulpine-eared Human stared into his pale eyes with worry. The concern was respected by the Quaestor, but this wasn’t the time to be comforting.

“Yes, sorry. I just thought I saw something, is all. Nothing serious, totally not.” Lexiconus lied, but Mune rolled his eyes and flicked the reply with his hand. He knew it was a lie, but the hybrid didn’t take it to heart.

“So, tell me again, the mission statement. Why are we here?” Mune prodded the Quaestor for the information he desired, to test the Quarren’s actual focus. But Lexiconus caught his eyes slowly looking back at the deep chasm once more. A strong slap whipped against his cheek from the Hybrid. The Quarren jumped back in shock and collapsed against the metallic wall and onto his rear.

“Oh, sorry. Erm, we’re here to collect a bounty of a Jim Petcher. A thief who stole some blueprints from Judecca.” Lexiconus yanked the bulky datapad from his satchel and reread the information to himself. He then reiterated it to Mune. “It says the distinguishing feature he has is two cybernetic arms, capable of gripping five hundred pounds each. So, we better watch for those. It says he is proficient with a sword too, fancied himself an upgrade and stole an armoury lightsaber, too. The man sounds brave.” Mune scoffed and leaned on the hand rail, observing the traffic of the chasm. He disagreed.

“Or completely stupid. The Sith and Jedi are not forgiving when it comes to thievery of lightsabers. History will repeat itself.” That confused the Quarren, he thought Mune was a new asset to the clan, clearly he was wrong. There wasn’t any record of someone stealing a lightsaber from their Clan before. But then again, if their body was disposed of, why would there be records? Deciding to not press the topic, Lexiconus stood and saw a stairway leading down. The duo approached the metal staircase and noticed it was blowing in the wind. With an unstable hand rail that could be broken with a yank and the stairs were dotted with rust and eroded holes, Lexiconus could see it was in disrepair. He gulped heavily and looked back at Mune.

“Can we risk it? I mean, it’s not a far jump, right?”

“For me, no it is not.” Mune grinned brightly, his canines bared with confidence. It didn’t help with the Quarren’s nerves. Deciding to just wing it, Lexiconus slowly began to descend the wobbly staircase. His hand firmly on the hand rail to stop it from falling off, the stairs bounced like a diving board each time he stepped on them. Carefully glancing down beneath his feet, the Quarren could only see the darkness of the chasm. With each careful step he took, Mune was behind him giggling away. The hybrid teased Lexiconus and began to gently hop on the rusty staircase, as the metal whined with an overbearing tension. But their concentration was disturbed.

“Hey jelly legs!” At the end of the staircase, Mune and Lexiconus saw a trio of ragged-dressed men with blasters. Two Rodians behind a Gand, who had a very large rifle in his claws. His breath mask took in a big breath, then he continued.

“Take off your belts, your credit pouches, that stupid purse on the squid’s waist and any other weapons. Then throw them over, now!” The Gand cocked his rifle and aimed carefully at the Quarren. He took a look at his bag and grumbled in protest.

“It is a masculine satchel filled with medical equipment, you uncultured swine!” Lexiconus snarled, while Mune giggled more. The Quaestor turned to the hybrid and whispered.

“He wants your weapons too, you know?” But Mune chuckled to himself and patted the Quarren with comfort. “Don’t worry, he will get them.” He replied, and slowly reached for his lightsaber.

“Don’t worry, he will get them,” Mune replied softly, his hand relaxed on the familiar grip of his lightsaber.

Any mirth he may have felt had made an expedient retreat. He made mental note, however, to tease the squid further about his purse once their mission had been completed. He stared across the open space, eyes studious of the three men threatening them. Did they necessarily know to whom they issued threats? Mune could only assume, based on pure observation; that they would have issued the threats to just about anyone they could make a few credits off of.

“Come on, I am only so patient. The belts, credits, purse and weapons. Now!”

A steady hand, Mune noted.

“I am sure we can talk about this, no need to act as common brigands. Squid’s purse will definitely not go with your attire anyway, I assure you.” Mune spoke, his eyes all for the Gand. He was the leader, the hybrid decided. Quite likely, even the gentleman they sought. Though, he mentally checked himself, gentleman was not a term likely pinned on this guy. Though… he admitted to himself he could not note any robotic arms. Discarding the idea that this was Jim, he re-evaluated their current position.

There was a sharp intake of air through his breathing mask, the Gand’s next works angrier than the y had been. “I will shoot, and I don’t miss!”

“I know you are new and all… or returning and all… or something… Could you just maybe stop spurring him on?” Lexiconus hissed in his own growing irritation. He shot the hybrid a glare, though realized quickly that his companion was up to something. Mune’s eyes were focussed, bright with intention. The Quarren shifted his gaze back to the thugs, and he could see the two Rodians becoming unsteady. He watched the unease between them then a nervous exchange of words in Rodese.

The Savant kept focussed, manipulating the illusion, ignoring a bead of swept that ran down the side of his face. Then a cry echoed off the chasm walls. One of the Rodians had shot the other. Jim, to Mune’s surprise, did not flinch. Rather, he fired. Only by mere milliseconds was Mune ahead of Lex. His arm slammed into his companion’s chest and pinned him against the wall as the rifle bolt whizzed by harmlessly to hit a wall somewhere beyond them.

The stairs creaked, and whined under their feet. The yawning abyss below, a frightening reminder of just where they would wind up with the slightest misstep. There was near no time to think, however, when the remaining Rodian and their target both started to openly fire upon them.

Lex’ saber hissed to life in a wicked cascade of violent red light. Mune ducked, his own saber a brilliant wash of purple. With trained precision, both deflected the onslaught before throwing themselves forward. Over the heads of the two thugs and landing with a metallic clang on the aged gratings behind them. The catwalk groaned ominously. Frankly, Lex could not believe it was holding at all. He kept picturing being flung off into the gaping chasm to his death. Swallowed up by the void.

“Stop daydreaming,” Mune warned.

Lex’ saber came up in a vicious arc. The remaining Rodian’s arm came away to be taken by the chasm along with the shrieks of the alien. Mune’s saber finished him with a quick stab through the chest, abruptly, silent. The Gand had already backed up and his rifle was up taking aim.

Mune struck outwards. The Force crashed into the Gand, his rifle ripped from his fingers. Both equites could well hear some claws break with disturbing wet cracks. Lex struck the point home. His saber rent the air and so with it, the Gand’s body. Their would be mugger fell from the stairs and into the darkness below… engulfed.

A yelp brought Lex’ attention back around. The Savant had caught a saber struck aimed to his head with his own, though pressed perilously close to being thrown over the railing of the catwalk. The whirr of machinery, cybernetics working at overpowering with brute force. Jim Petcher. The metal groaned and whined before finally, with a metallic ping the railing loosened further, bowing outwards. Lex could only surmise that the thug had used the moment Mune had thrown the Gand off balance, to attack the distracted Savant from behind. It was likely only the Force and Mune’s reflexes that had kept the hybrid from being taken out on the spot.

The current situation could not be described as any better; Lex thought wryly.

“The… ignorant should not play with toys they… do not understand.” Mune warned with an edge of a vicious growl.

Caught off-guard by their newest of foes, Mune wrestled and writhed in his autonomous grip. His yelps and calls for aid hard pressed Lexiconus to act, but the Battlemaster was not overfond of his combat skills. Ankles and shins met with the rickety metal, as the struggle between the hybrid and Jim consumed them. The hybrid grew stronger in the Force, as he called it to his favour, but a stream of sweat and red rose to his face.

“Take him out, Lex. His arm.” Mune pleaded to the Quaestor, but he hesitated with lightsaber in hand. His growls were becoming animalistic loud, a sign of Mune’s imminent defeat. Lexiconus looked back to lightsaber, aiming the blade to Jim’s arm, trying his best to feign confidence in skill. But his shaky arms and the worry spread across his face, didn’t portray a blade master confidence that he needed. A chuckle bellowed from their target, his teeth dotted with white and silver pieces.

“You ain’t got the guts or glory to do it, ’ave ya?” He pressed the Quarren, adding a cheeky wink for insult. Lexiconus tried to think it through in the little time he had. One plan was simple, to stab through Mune and hit the target with great precision, but at great risk of killing Mune on the job and losing half the profits. Another idea was to give Mune his own lightsaber and let the hybrid end the struggle, but his arms and focus was occupied, to not be crush by arms capable of delivering five hundred pounds in weight. But the last and more friendly plan seemed best. A shriek let out by Mune urged Lexiconus on, he was running out of time.

I have to do this now! No more time for thinking

The Battlemaster spun on the metal grid, his blade scraping an orange valley through the wall, then flung the blade out into the abyss. Together in unison, Mune and Jim looked out into the darkness in confusion.

“You...you tossed your weapon away? ‘Ave you lost it, mate?” Jim turned his head back to face the Quarren, only he couldn’t see him. A strike to his nether-regions with a firm foot caused Jim to crumble and fall back. Peering under Mune’s arm, Lexiconus smirked and watched the target collapse into the fetal position and onto the catwalk. The hybrid turned and gave him a swift kick to the back. A single jolt of movement and a groan was all they heard from Jim, who curled back up again.

“I have to ask, Lex,” Mune approached his partner and patted his shoulder, a sign of good work. “Why did you throw your lightsaber away? Was that the only plan you had?” The Quaestor shrugged as he scanned the horizon for an exit.

“My initial plan was to swing the blade back around and cut him in half, but that has the probability of cutting you in half too. When I noticed his attention was diverted to the rogue weapon, I took the chance to paralyse his member.” Lexiconus replied, as his eyes targeted a hangar port with a service exit. Rank and file moved quickly out from the door, and towards them.

“Improvisation, I like it. So, now what?” Mune asked, but as his partner was about to answer, but the Quarren pointed to the readied firing squad opposite them.

“Now, we run!”

Spears of red and green darted between their heads and feet, as the riflemen followed and anticipated their movements. Lexiconus was capable of redirecting several bolts with an open palm and the Force, while Mune gracefully weaved his way around them like a salsa dance. Leaping back onto the rickety walkway they came from, Lexiconus was too slow and his calf was cut by a blaster bolt. The Quarren tripped and smacked his head against the cold steel of the bannister. Mune turned and watched as it happened, reaching down to pick up Lexiconus’ body.

“Lex, get up! We gotta move!” The hybrid pleaded, but the Quarren was non-responsive. With bolts flying past his head, Mune needed a planning chance.

His mind raced, calculating, analyzing, and putting together fragments of a complicated puzzle that he had very little time to decipher. The blueprints… he had snatched them, or what he had hoped had been them when they were in close enough proximity to each other. Things had gotten horribly intimate with the man.

“Though not as intimate as he got with Lexi’s boot…” he muttered to himself to try and ease some of his tension.

He felt with a jolt a bolt graze his left arm. The pain shot through him, a fresh rush of adrenaline. He had to focus. He had to get him and his Quaestor out alive with the blueprints. He inched back step by step, the Quarren draped over his back. He willed his body to keep up to the shots being fired, lightsaber deflecting the bolts he could while he focussed on deflecting the rest. Something clicked. A wicked grin crossed his lips. He redirected the Force to increase his strength, and with a grunt threw Lexiconus back onto the safety of the landing.

The stairs groaned, he bit his lower lip, keeping the pain under control from his right arm even as he was ever so slowly healing the damage. He dropped to a knee, making himself a smaller target on the center of the stairs, using the angles to help cover himself as best he could manage. They were closing fast, their firing growing closer to hitting their intended target. The loud ring of metal filled his ears then grew distant again while he gathered his focus again. One shot… two… three were dispersed from his barrier. A twitch, a shock, another bolt grazing his left thigh. The muscles clenched, the pain pulsed but he forced it back hard, letting the blood trickle through the fabric of his trousers to drip on rusted steel and to the abyss below.

Mune’s eyes narrowed as three of the brigands closed. He could make out Jim further behind barking orders. He was of no immediate concern, he reminded himself. His eyes narrowed further, the Force roaring through him. He grabbed it, drew it in tight in a passionate embrace and let it swallow him whole. He lashed out, bolt after bolt ripped violently from the wall. The anchors that held the platform and stairs to the more solid structure released from their mooring. Violently, the entire thing churned and whined, then a metallic cry of its structural integrity giving up, was all the men heard before the gratings fell from under their feet.

Every breath was harsh, rasping from his lungs. He was sweaty, exhausted but he remained focussed, another anchor ripping free with extraneous effort, dropping a few more of the attackers into the darkness that threatened to devour them all. He could already feel the stairs sagging precariously towards his own death.

“Yer insane mate!” Jim yelled across the crumbling platform to the hybrid.

Mune’s ear twitched, catching the words distantly. His eyes lifted and locked with the man’s. He saw clearly the blaster levelled at him. Someone taking time to aim? That was new, Mune thought. The bolt caught his left shoulder. He could not bite back the scream of pain that exploded past his lips. The energy had not dispersed enough to nullify the bolt, but it was enough to keep it from any damage too serious to be dealt with… if he found medical help. His vision swam. He pulled himself up one step, then another.

Jim did not stick around, he knew his own position was about to dump him into the abyss. He laughed, no idea he had lost his prizes, and only his life was left to him, for now. Mune heard the stairs in their death throws under him.

“Almost there…” he muttered, as if saying it out loud would give him strength.

Another step.... and another… Then he felt the stairs pitch and drop. He felt sudden vertigo. He never got vertigo, he thought for a moment. They dropped away. A spasm through his right shoulder, a sudden weight that he recognized as his own mass tugged on the joint. He wondered how that was. His gaze drew up, eyes met Lexiconus’. All became darkness.

Lexiconus grunted. With a heave, he had the hybrid over the lip of safety and dragged him back. Their pursuers had been thwarted, of that, he had no doubts. He pulled his companion to his feet, and, so, began the arduous return back to the surface.

“Good work…” he spoke into the darkness, knowing Mune likely did not hear. “Smart of you to slip the plans to me before getting me out of harm’s way too…” He could not help but wonder if their target still ran free with the stolen saber though. Perhaps, they would see Jim again, he hoped not. He hoped the man knew better than to cross their path again.