The image of a pewter colored statue stared back at Ayme Katash from the terminal screen. She had a dream, or perhaps it was a vision as the others on Lopen kept insinuating. A man dressed in a dark cloak with no discernible face had taken the statue from the mantle of a family home. She spent weeks studying tomes and random articles in the Citadel library. Going to the planet and finding the run down shack of a home that time had punished had only sparked more questions rather than satiate her need for information. Yet every time she slept, the nightmare returned. She was searching for clues to unlock the dream that wouldn't let her go.

The room was devoid of living occupants. It consisted of a vast expansion of shelves surrounded by a central bank of terminals. The air always seemed stale to Ayme, the entire place gave her an eerie feeling, like a graveyard after dark. That was if she managed to pull herself away from whatever she was reading to give her surroundings much thought. The library had become a refuge for her between lessons. A place she could find answers on her own terms rather than Kami's techniques that typically left her with more bruises than she could count.

A year had passed since her days in the dungeon. She had learned to control her emotions, at least to a functional degree. Ayme was a source of constant frustration for both Kami and her sister. The techniques she had learned though had shown her ways to manipulate situations to her advantage. She seemed to have a knack for knowing what choices others were going to make, and finding ways to alter those outcomes had become something of a hobby for her.

The words on the screen drew Ayme from her wayward thoughts. It was an old file, archived in a forgotten directory about families thought to possess Force aptitude. A dark jedi who had died over fifty years before her birth had taken it upon himself to seek out such families and catalogue their identities as well as some general particularities about them. This family was not named, but the holo taken of them showed a very familiar statue sitting prominently on a desk to their right.

Ayme quickly started to search for more information on the family, specifically the young son standing next to his father. Sure enough, the same dark jedi had continued his surveillance of the family into the next generation. The jedi had labeled them the 'Dragon Family' in his later references and had logged an entire entry on just the statue. Eventually he had given the family another name, the title of which was from an ancient language Ayme couldn't even pronounce. The name, however, was all too familiar.

I decided to call them 'Katash' the ancient word for 'Dragon' after the idol they have passed down. I am convinced that this heirloom contains a crystal which was used in lightsaber construction. I must stay vigilant. There have been no Force abilities logged in progenitors, but I will keep watch on the descendants.

"Adept."

Ayme jumped, and then quickly forced the blood from her cheeks to reduce the embarrassment of being so engulfed in her work she had been surprised. An initiate hovered in the doorway, datapad in hand.

"Speak."

"I was told to give this to you." The young man shoved the datapad towards her with trembling fingers, bowed and returned back to the dark halls.

Ayme sighed and pushed the power button. Text scrolled across the screen at once, revealing that the message was from her battalion commander. Messages from her weren't an unusual occurrence; in fact Major Krista Song ensured that she sent Ayme an update of Phoenix Company weekly during her absence. However this wasn't an update, it was a personal message.

Ayme scanned the words silently, her body drifting into a haze. It was a notification. A short list of people whom she would be notified immediately about should anything happen, swam through her thoughts. Images of everyone on that list started to flash in her mind, what they should have been doing, where they were the last time she spoke to them. Her brain was compiling the information trying to ease the brutal pain she was about to endure once the words on the datapad were assimilated into her brain.

"The Vast Empire regrets to inform you that Jed Katash is presumed dead. His last known location was in his residence in Coronet City, on Corellia. Captain Ayme Katash is listed as his next of kin."

-~~~-

"You can't be serious. You have been given permission in the past to return to Tadath, for a month at the most, tend to your position, make an appearance then you were to return here to continue your training. Leaving now? Do you have a death wish?"

Ayme stared out onto the barren landscape that made up the surface of Lopen. Her white training robe billowed out about her in stark contrast to the bleached palate of her surroundings. The air of the planet always felt stagnant, the taste of it even worse beyond the walls of the Citadel. Ayme often took her experiments outdoors after accidentally blowing up half a training room. The methodology of testing theories and re-testing calmed her when her mind descended into a maelstrom of emotions. This was one of those times.

"Ayme are you listening to me?"

"Yes, I hear you Zasati." The soft voice finally speaking in the darkness prompted Aeos to pause in her pacing.

Random components, most from junk piles floated in the air. Ayme stood before them, her eyes closed in concentration. The components danced in a symphony of movement. She stood as the conductor, her hand raised as she guided their movement. She felt their alignment, a perfect harmony and they stopped midair. She smirked then shut her fist tightly, the components followed the motion and sucked in on themselves and in a flash of light detonated in a small explosion.

"I'm going to Corellia. I'm finding out what happened to Jed." Her eyes trailed downward as she spoke, "And the others."

She had spent the days since Song delivered the unpleasant news attempting to contact anyone in Retathorn, the gang her foster father and recently discovered Uncle Jed had founded. Ayme had grown up with the members of Retathorn and they were more her family than the woman she was currently speaking to, who seemed to live only to lecture her.

"I understand you are angry," Aeos's voice grew tight as she sought to reason with her younger sister, "But if you leave they will likely kill you. Wait until you've completed your training."

Ayme opened her eyes and sighed. Ignoring the comment she moved past Aeos to jot in notes quickly on her datapad. Her times were improving, but she could tell she had a long way to go. Kami had the ability to control others minds, Ayme could control anything mechanical. She could rip something apart and put it back together again to her personal will.

"No." Ayme finally answered Aeos. Pushing off the table she attempted to walk away only to find herself being held in place by a small but strong hand on her forearm. Ayme sighed as she rolled her eyes looking away towards the sky.

"I'll get permission, Zasati, but this is something I have to do. You didn't know Jed, he was like my father, I have to know what happened to him. And Bishop..." Her voice trailed off. Bishop had been her best friend, until she got restless and signed up with the army. They had even made a terrible attempt at a relationship once, which left him with feelings for her she would never reciprocate.

Aeos glared silently at her younger sister. "It's important that you take this seriously Ayme."

Ayme smirked. "I'll get permission, I know you'd miss me if they killed me. No need to get sappy or anything."

The older woman watched her sister return to through the large doors that led to the Citadel. She sighed and turned back to the landscape. "You could at least clean up this mess."

-~~~-

Coronet City - Corellia

Upon first sight most would have assumed that the derelict building dwarfed by its towering neighbours was abandoned. Broken windows and peeling paint only aided in the illusion. Yet Ayme saw none of this as she stepped through the familiar doorframe of her teenage home.

The Black Sun had destroyed her childhood when they killed her parents and took her captive. As with most things in Ayme's life, things had not gone to plan. Her sister Aryanna had been sold as a slave and Ayme had been shot trying to prevent their capture. She'd spent a year in a coma which left her alive but with no memory of the childhood they had stolen from her. A year of torture and pain followed, and then there was the orphanage. Jed had eventually rescued her from the spiral of destruction that was her life. He'd brought her here, to live with his gang: Retathorn.

The outer structure was a farce. It hid the real base that was below the surface. Only members knew the truth and the passkey that unlocked the inconspicuous door to the lower levels. Even though the building was left in disarray to keep up the appearance of abandonment, the level of destruction was far more advanced than Ayme remembered.

It had been almost a year since she set foot in her foster father's home. The army, and more recently, events on Lopen kept her seemingly endlessly occupied. Her hand reached out and touched the door, now partially covered by the ruins of a bookshelf. She closed her eyes and extended her senses to the floors below. A handful of familiar presences dimly met her awareness, far fewer than there should have been. She focused until she was satisfied that there was no longer any danger below her, just frightened friends.

The last number of the passcode caused a click in the door. She smirked at the familiar noise then cautiously opened the ailing door. The bunker should have been organized, clean, lived in. Instead, her boots crunched on pieces of debris that littered the corridors. The walls were scorched by blaster fire and the air was thick with smells of battle.

Movement just beyond a makeshift barricade constructed haphazardly of file cabinets and desks sent Ayme flush against the nearest wall. Her pistol appeared in her hand in one fluid flash of movement.

Reaching out she touched the mind of the two terrified survivors scuttling around behind the barricade. "H-Hav?"

"Greven you try to shoot me and I'm kicking your ass."

A squeal prompted Ayme to tighten her grip on the pistol out of habit rather than actual fear.

"Havvie!"

Lucy came running from her hiding place near Greven and slammed Ayme into the wall with a tight hug. The man, several years older than Ayme, shook his head as he approached. "I've been trying to cheer her up for days, you threaten to kill me and she's all better. Go figure."

"I have a way with women I suppose."

Lucy chuckled at the comment and gradually released the death grip she had on her friend. Ayme noticed the tears streaming down the perpetually upbeat woman. She could see the pain in her eyes too. Although Lucy had always been a bit high strung for Ayme, it still hurt her to see the scars from this event evident on her friends face.

"What happened here Greven, where's Jed?"

Both of her friends averted their gaze to no longer make eye contact. Greven found his voice first. "I'm sorry Hav. I know he was your father and I hate to be the one to tell you. He didn't make it, they got him holed up in his office...he never made it out."

"Put up one hell of a fight though, you can be sure of that." Lucy added with a twinge of pride in her tone.

"I want to see his office."

Greven tentatively reached out and touched Ayme's shoulder. "Don't kiddo. He detonated something, take as many of them with him as he could. There's nothing there, the roof...you can't even get in the room."

Ayme pushed his arm away, letting her anger take control. She kicked one of the file cabinets sending it less than a meter for all her effort. Jed was the first person she could remember caring for her, someone who had saved her from being recaptured by the Black Sun more times than she would ever know, and had even taught her how to shoot a pistol. That man was dead, buried under piles of rubble….and there wasn't anything she could do about it.

Or was there?

"Bishop." She turned to look at the two friends standing closer to each other than she recalled them being comfortable. "Where's Bishop?"

Lucy looked up at Greven, a slow wince forming across her face. He stayed stoic, his eyes glued on Havock. "I'll take you to him."

-~~~-

The medical room in the Retathorn base was a familiar place to Ayme. She didn't get the nickname 'Havock' by being graceful. Blood was splattered near the beds and medical supplies were tossed haphazardly around as they had been used in a rush.

"He was shot, crazy bastard wouldn't leave Jed's side. He was trying to get all the data backed up so those mercs wouldn't get it."

Ayme heard the words but remained numb as she stared sadly at her best friend lying helpless on the cot. "Did he succeed?"

"No, or if he did I have no idea what he did with the datacards. We found him just as he is, full of holes, the dumbass."

"Venk, you're not a medic."

The young man laughed. "Yea well I suck with a blaster so I just learned on the job." He sighed. "Cooper patched him up before he got his ass shot too. I can keep the generators running and from what I can gather from these machines, he's stable."

"He is stable, he may need blood though..." Ayme ran her hand through Bishop's brown hair, silently marvelling at how unchanged he was by time.

"Havock, there is no way I can even begin to figure out how to do a blood transfusion."

"I know." She motioned to Greven and started digging in her cargo pocket for something. "Here, take my credcard, go buy whatever you need. Medic droid whatever. Take care of him. Is there anyone else?"

Lisa's lip trembled in the doorframe, the two conscious men shuffled from foot to foot avoiding her gaze.

"I'll take that as a no." She somberly surmised.

-~~~-

The med droid made another check of Bishop's vitals. The movement woke Ayme from her restless dozing.

The lights were dimmed, indicating it was night on the surface. Ayme could make out Lisa asleep in Greven's arms and Venk snoring on a nearby chair. The bleak remains of all that was left of her uncles' gang.

"Havvie?"

Her head snapped to the injured man on the cot, who needed his sleep more than anyone else in the room. "Bishop, don't talk. I'll get the droid."

"No, listen to me." He swallowed, his throat was likely dry. She wanted to get him water but his weak yet determined grip on her forearm held her in place. "I tried, I couldn't get Jed..." He started coughing, his whole body convulsing with the force. "The data, they wanted information not in the computer, Jed knew. Jed just got back from some grassland planet, big on trade. Figured it had to do with gear...but...he told me something. He knew you'd come."

Ayme stepped closer and put a hand on his cheek.

"Ansion, he said to tell you it was on Ansion."

The name of the planet sent shivers down her spine. "What's on Ansion?"

"Whatever those bastards were looking for."

-~~~-

Cuipernam Trade City - Ansion

The wind swept through the streets of Cuipernam, prompting Ayme to pull her dark coat around her sturdy frame. The city had once just been the main trade district of Ansion, but in the absence of a "capital" the place the majority of the money filtered through seemed to suffice. Ayme had arrived two days ago, and still hadn't been able to locate any information about what Jed had been trying to find.

There was one other place left to look, a place that Ayme would not find on any terminal or records office. She wasn't sure how she knew the route, yet there she was walking along a dirt path away from the central city. The house rose slowly over the hill in the distance. A wet dew trickled off the rolling grass, assaulted her sense of smell. The scent triggered flashes of memories she lacked the ability to decode as of yet.

Wooden walls cracked from age and wind stood soundly defying time under a rusty roof. The floorboard creaked under the pressure of her boot, prompting her to slow her pace and checked the stability of the abandoned structure. Satisfied she would not fall through, Ayme continued into her childhood home.

The interior was left as it was, a snapshot of the day her life was torn apart. Chairs sat empty, and tables covered in dust still held items from family-life. Objects from her childhood protected for years by a thick layer of light gray fuzz. Her eyes fell on the one item in the whole place that did not hide beneath years of neglect.

The holoemitter sat nonchalantly on the caf-table in the living area. Ayme froze, her hand going to the blaster on her hip. Blue eyes swept the familiar yet forgotten landscape of the room, lingering on the doorways. There was no movement, no footprints in the dust except the ones to and from the caf-table. Whoever had been there had friends, or had paced several times before leaving based on the tracks in the dust. She closed her eyes and reached out, using the skills she had been taught on Lopen to make sure her eyes were not deceiving her, she had to be sure that she was in fact alone with the ghosts.

Someone had been there, and recently, she could feel their residual presence on the device. It was like looking at a heat signature in her heads up display. The energy on the device told her something had touched it, a man, he had been angry. Her heart was pounding so loud she couldn't focus enough to find more through the Force, which proved to just frustrate her even more. She pressed the button on the emitter, and nothing happened.

Ayme frowned and pressed the button again, still nothing. She looked around, then noticed the dents on the casing which was a tell-tale sign the device had been smashed. Someone had left her a message… yet another person had gone out of their way to ensure she did not receive it. Whoever had smashed the holoemitter would not be far, which meant that she could not linger. She would have to find another place to stay while she was on Ansion.

-~~~-

Ayme cursed and pressed her sore finger to her lips. She had to resist the urge to throw the hydrospanner across the room in frustration. Repairing the small R2 unit she had found in the storage area should have been an easy task, but the little device seemed to have a mind of its own.

She had been searching in the house for two hours trying to figure out what her uncle had been doing on the planet and what had happened to him. Why he would return to the planet Ayme had no idea, but if she was on Ansion she definitely came to this place during his visit, even if all the evidence was to the contrary.

Her mind refused to accept that her foster father was dead. Jed was trapped or had been captured, he couldn't be dead. Ayme's mind repeated the denial of logic over and over again, like a prayer.

"Beeeeeeeerrupppp Bett tooo dee too." The droid beeped to life all of its components lighting up simultaneously.

"Well hello there Drake. About time your lazy ass woke up."

The R2 units name had been scribed on his backup datafiles, which was one of the many things Havock had found while she was searching her old home. A holo she had found of a small girl and two identical infants hadn't strayed far from her either.

She set the tools down on the makeshift workbench and wiped her forehead. The sun was starting to set, casting a shadow on the items in the room, and prompting her to hurry up before she would need to leave. Where she was going was a question she had yet to answer.

Ayme had found a terminal that was still operational and moved it to the same work area she was in. The computer was slow but functional and gave her the chance to try to search through old files.

Drake pushed his orange and gray dome into Ayme's knee. "Ow, dammit Drake. Did I screw up your servo's or something? Come here let's have a look." The droid slammed into her knee harder. "Ow!" She was about to just hit the droid in frustration when the terminal beeped.

She glared at the screen letting a curse die on her lips as she read the words displayed. It was a journal entry, by someone named Sarissa.

"Beeeep toto derrrrrrrrrp."

"Well there's no need to gloat."

Ayme knew the name, she remembered it from her time in the dungeon on Lopen. It was her mother's journal. The excitement to read words actually written by her mother as opposed to the imaged conjured up by her delusions made her completely forget about the droid and the growing bruise on her leg.

Entry 49...Username: SariKol...Password: *********

The twins ventured out to play today. I hate allowing them to go so far that I cannot see them, but Jarick continues to fuss about me coddling them after what happened to Zee. When they returned the story they told me made me forget completely about the fact that they had me worried sick for the twenty minutes they were late. Ary came running in first and she couldn't even catch her breath enough to speak, right behind her was Ayme who was laughing her head off.

Ayme said that Ary was scared of some monsters just over Beggar's Ridge. She did the cutest impression of the "monsters" as she said the word. I could tell Ary wanted to hit her sister, but thankfully didn't.

What concerns me is that just over Beggar's Ridge is that bunker. I'm going to ask Jarick and Jed to go find out what they are doing at that place once and for all. And I don't care what that man says the girls will not be venturing out of my sight until he check's it out.

The journals continued onward, with entries talking about new recipes and the weather. Ayme's eyes drifted off contemplating the words, Beggar's Ridge and bunker over and over again. "Drake, where is Beggar's Ridge?"

The bunker that was referenced she knew all too well. Not all that long ago, Ayme had discovered that she had more family living than she could have possibly imagined. She had been taken along with her sisters to the bunker were they were interrogated about a code they apparently possessed. The Black Sun grunts didn't get the code. Their uncle, Jed, had rescued them.

"Buuuuuuuuuuuerup."

A map scrolled across the data reader connected to the small droid. She wasn't as familiar with the landscape as the ghost of her seven year old self had been, but from the landmarks she could make out the hill just to the northeast of her current location. She didn't expect it to be far, given that two small children had managed to walk there all in a day's play.

"Guess I know where I'll be going, huh Drake."

-~~~-

Invisible breadcrumbs in the grass led her to the small hill near the bunker that used to be a Black Sun base. It hadn't been a far walk but her pace had slowed with every step she took. The rain had started as a trickle was now a steady stream, she could feel the droplets fall down her face and taste them on her lips.

A woman stood at the top of the hill, her face covered by a dark cowl. The rain made it hard to discern if the cloth was naturally dark or if the rain had altered the color. She was looking down at a large stone etched with writing.

Ayme approached the woman tentatively, her eyes transfixed on the figure. She moved as if in a trance, but her wits were not totally removed. Ayme shifted the bottom of her jacket aside and removed the pistol from its holster. She found it strange that some part of her instinctively desired the training saber tucked safely in its sheath on her calf.

The soldier in her led with her left foot, cocking her body at an angle to keep the blaster low and steady.

Ayme frowned, "who are you?"

Her guard did not drop but Ayme inched forward far enough to make out the bridge of a small nose and a feminine chin. The woman was crying, she wasn't sure if she could see the tears or just knew instinctively. Ayme turned and looked more closely at the stone marker in the ground. The writing was ornate and had been done by a master in the craft. That didn't help stop the lump from rising in her throat.

"Here lies the remains of Sarissa Sol Katash, Mother and wife. In loving memory of her husband Jarick Katash."

Ayme looked back to the hooded woman only to find her gone. Yet another one of her figments, or visions, she wasn't sure which anymore. She swayed in shock, struggling to come to terms with the warping of her reality. The pressure inside her chest intensified until it seemed as though she had to figure it out or be crushed in the process of her understanding.

Droplets of rain dripped down her arms and face, causing Ayme to look around for the first time. She abruptly realized that she was on a hill. Beggar's Hill.

"Okay I'm here, now what?" She yelled into the storm, not expecting a response. Her anger needed a release and screaming seemed like as good of an idea as any at that moment. "Lots of help you two are."

The terrain fell gracefully from the hillcrest except in one place where a jagged line formed. There lay a path only marked by its discoloration in comparison to the green surrounding it leading from the doorway into the field and beyond. She knew that path all too well, it was the bunker and a good place to hide while she figured out the puzzle of her past.

-~~~-

The corridors of the bunker were just as cold and gray as she remembered. Checking the rooms had been a slow progression backwards in time for her. The events that happened months before between Ayme and her sisters still haunted her in many ways. So many parts of her life had changed since then, so many things she had taken for granted had been blown away.

The bunker appeared to be have been designed mostly for storage. Three large holding rooms sat with a small complement of living quarters and another large room for communications. Ayme had set up her equipment in the communications room and used an adjacent apartment for sleeping. The bunker would be useful as a place to rest and research in private.

Ayme stared at the crude security holo being transmitted to her by Drake. She made sure before she left that the droid looked as though it was powered down and as useless as when she found him. The man stalking around the house seemed overly interested in the family terminal, which was actually useless after Ayme wiped the memory and stored the data in the little R2 unit serving as her personal spy.

"Drake is being a good droid. I need to remember to get him an oil cookie." Ayme leaned in closer to the screen. "I think my efforts on the family records are pissing our visitor off."

Indeed the muscular man was now obviously cursing and stomping several feet away then returning to his impossible task. "He tries over and over, only credits inspire that kind of determination." She whispered to herself as she leaned in and tapped the screen. "You're the merc aren't you?"

Ayme took a decent screenshot of his face and started running his image through the facial recognition software she most likely was not allowed to 'borrow' from the Vast Empire. The name that appeared several minutes later was unfamiliar to her, but that didn't matter as she now had her target.

"Lang Fisk, huh. Nice to meet you Fisk."Ayme growled the words, "I'd very much like to have a conversation with you." Her hand unconsciously moved to touch the training saber that she had placed on the desk next to the terminal, her mind making a list of all the components she would need to make a real lightsaber.

-~~~-

Returning to the streets of Cuipernam was strange, Ayme was more connected to the city than when she arrived. She could since each person as they passed, as intricate parts of a machine connected together and flowing between each other. It was sad in a way, how they could never see how truly connected they all were. She felt like she was visiting an old friend now rather than a fulfilling the role of a tourist in a strange place.

The streets were crowded mostly with families that roamed from shop to shop in small packs. The children zipped away from their parents several meters only to bounce back before their absence was noticed. Ayme found herself slowing her pace to stare longingly at families browsing the market, her mind wistfully curious to what her childhood had been like.

The components she needed ran through her mind. She may not have been familiar with the city but she knew how traders worked. The hilt and pommel cap wouldn't be a problem, she recalled items back at the homestead that would work nicely for those. The more technical items all could be found fairly easily, but purchasing of them without raising suspicion was another matter. Luckily, given her position in the army, money was less of an object. The one item she had no clue how to obtain was the crystal, and that was something not found commonly among the rolling grasses of Ansion.

She passed a large electronics store where the diatium power cell and intert power insulation should have been sold. A bell dinged as she passed through the entryway. A burly man in a shirt a few sizes too small smiled as she passed through the threshold.

"Can I help you miss?"

Ayme put her hands in her pockets and glanced around to appear distracted by the colorful sale signs. "Sure, I need a small power cell, diatium will do, and the intert power insulation to go with it."

The man chuckled to himself. "Your husband building some kinda speeder?"

A sweet smile spread across her lips as she squelched the impulse to throw him against the terminal components behind his counter. "It's a bike, rare design. He's just testing a theory about not over clocking his energy cells. Do you have them or not?"

"Hey, whatever floats his boat sweetheart."

She couldn't stop the involuntary sneer at being called 'sweetheart' from spreading across her face. Ayme took a long deep breath feigning an extreme and sudden interest in holoscreens to keep the shopkeeper from seeing her sudden flash of anger.

"Here' s the credcard." She handed it to him then continued before he could pay much attention to the name on the card. "So what do you think the best processor is out right now?"

"Erm..." He got distracted and tried to think while charging the card. "I guess it's the Palora two five. Those buggers are fast." He returned the card. "And I know they work well in a Samson nine box."

"No kidding? Well thanks." She left the shop and touched the minds of the next seven people she passed regardless of age or gender. It was just like taking the components in her experiments and connecting them together. Her mind sent out the strands the way wires flow away from a circuit, then broke the contact before any would know someone had been there. They all had a sudden burning desire to purchase a Palora processor from the burly man, which she figured would keep him busy enough to forget the young blond girl that wanted a diatium power cell.

-~~~

Explaining a blade emitter was going to be a far more difficult task. She found a store that sold spare parts for macrobinoculars and similar hobby equipment. After spending just under thirty minutes wandering through the isles Ayme confirmed that they did in fact sell the focusing lens, emitter matrix and blade emitter she needed. The blade emitter, however, was under a transperiglass counter, locked and treated as an antique.

Several patrons came and went while she slowly transversed the isles. One man remained near some holocams displayed along the back wall. Ayme wanted him to leave before she attempted anything but she didn't want to risk planting the wrong image in his brain.

She approached the female twil'ek shopkeeper. The woman was middle aged or older, she kept her face securely planted in a holonovel she was reading.

"You gonna answer that?"

The twil'ek looked up confused. "Wha-"

Ayme looked deeply into her eyes, focusing every word into the woman's mind. "That ringing, in the back office. You need to answer that."

The woman blinked for several moments. Ayme already had the lens and emitter matrix safely stowed in her jacket pockets, she just needed the final component and she could be done with the shopping excursion. The woman stuttered, "y-yes, oh how did I not hear that, it's so annoying, heh. I'll be right back."

Ayme kept an eye on the man that stubbornly would not leave the holocams and reached her arm around the clear counter. Once she could she kept her focus on the object and watched it move from the display to her open hand several times until she managed a grasp on it with her mind and it sailed into her palm through the opening in the back.

The woman hadn't returned and the man was still in the back of the store. Ayme placed the blade emitter in her pocket with the other materials and moved at a quick pace towards the door.

Every time she glanced back she could see the same figure from the second shop following at a respectable distance. She used a convoluted manner to return to the the bunker, twisting and turning down alleyways at random in an attempt to shake her pursuit. She increased her speed, knowing on an instinctive level that the man would keep pace and report back his findings long before he attempted to engage her.

-~~~-

"She's there? Are you sure it's her?"

Fisk took a long satisfying glup from his mug of ale. He liked this bar, and particularly liked how little the waitresses wore and how often they dropped things.

"Fisk!"

"Wha...oh right boss. Yea, yea, it's the brat. Not sure which one though, aren't there two that look alike?" Fisk scratched the grizzle that was forming on his chin as he looked lazily at the translucent image of the man that gave him credits.

"Havock..."

Fisk shrugged. "She didn't cau's any problems I could tell."

"No you idiot that's her name...nevermind." The man squeezed the bridge of his nose tightly before he continued. "Wait a while then return to the home. I doubt she's there, she could probably smell you a mile away."

"Hey!"

"Shut up. I doubt she even knows what to look for, she never was much for details. You still have the picture of the object?"

Fisk took a large bit of something greasy which had arrived at his table. Unfortunately it had been carried by a large man in a dirty shirt he assumed was the cook, he'd have to order some more drinks so he had better looking company. "Right the stone lizard looking thing, like a Krayt dragon after too many death sticks."

"Right, whatever. Find it, then contact me again."

Fisk watched the connection end and the image dissipate back into the emitter. "Yea, yea, whatever. Ass."

-~~~-

The components she had gathered from town and her home were spread out across a table in the room she had claimed as her sleeping quarters. Just one was missing, and Ayme still had no clue where she would find something as rare as a perfect crystal.

The hilt was silver with small transparent spots to allow light to be seen at the very top and bottom of the hilt. The grip would have also been transparent, but Ayme found a small leather strap from her father's closet to weave around the hilt making the grip more comfortable. She had the hilt in two large pieces currently so that she could install all of the components. Unfortunately things like this lacked instruction manuals.

Without the crystal the lightsaber was also impossible to test when she did get the components in their proper place. She needed guidance and only knew one way to get such instruction, her least favorite activity, meditation.

Ayme settled on the floor and cleared her mind of all her thoughts. She had many to sift through, her family, Ansion, Jed, lightsabers, revenge. They were like a fog on her consciousness. One by one she slowly peeled them away and was left empty ready to listen to whatever the spirits around her were willing to say. Then, with a suddenness that threatened to startle her, the thoughts of her own were gone and a vision appeared as clearly as if she was walking through the memory herself.

"That thing needs to leave my house."

A tall blond man followed a similarly blond woman around the homestead Ayme had become more familiar with over the past several days. "Sarisa be reasonable, it's useless. My great great grandfather dissembled the blasted thing before he even had children. The rock that makes it work was stolen fifty years ago. Be calm, we have other things we should actually be concerned about."

Sarisa stepped forward and thrust a finger into Jarick's chest. "You worry about the damn Black Sun, and your damn father. My job is to keep our remaining children safe, and that includes making sure they do not stab themselves with a broken sword."

"It's not a sword."

"God dammit Jarick!"

He held his arms up in surrender. "Okay, okay." He sighed, knowing there was no winning an argument with the woman. "I'll take it apart, sell the items worth any credits. But I'm keeping the hilt."

"What about that crystal, the one that makes the whole thing work." She crossed her arms and watched two small children play in the field just outside the window.

"I told you, it's long gone."

She chortled, shaking her head. "I've met your parents Jarick. Where's the crystal?"

He closed his eyes smelling his defeat on this matter. He did know where the crystal was, the thing was his father's most prized possession. When he left his parents estate on Coruscant with his brother Jed, the orange gem was one of the things he made sure he grabbed.

"It's hidden, buried." The glare he was getting made it clear he would need to continue. "It's on Beggar's Ridge."

Slowly Ayme returned to the present, but she wasn't sure exactly how long she had been in there. Her body felt weak and stiff, which led her to believe it had been hours. The vision had given her a location, which was strangely enough, the location she seemed to keep needing to return to on this trip. A natural landmark that most would ignore while scanning the landscape apparently held the keys she would need from her past to move into her future.

Regardless of her fatigue, Ayme couldn't stop the grin from spreading across her face. She padded softly back over to the terminal showing a display of the home being transmitted by Drake. Now the image showed the objects in stillness except for one rather large man snoring on her father's computer terminal.

"Sleep tight, Fisky. See you soon."

-~~~-

The wisp of a memory led her through the tall grass as she made her way to the top of Beggar's Ridge. It was more of a hill than a ridge, she could see no drop-offs or rocks in sight save the one that marked her mother's grave. Ayme slowed, letting the specter out pace her for the moment and giving herself the chance to gaze upon the stone marker.

She felt like a human crystal detector, with her whole body being forcefully pulled towards her destination. As she got closer the shadow became more clear, as if she could see her father and uncle burying the glowing stone in the ground all those years ago. She watched them kneel and speak to each other in hushed tones, but as she finally reached the clearing in the grass the images disappeared as suddenly as her mother had.

Ayme knelt down and started to move the dirt with her hands, thinking belatedly how a small shovel would have been an intelligent thing to bring along since her task involved unearthing an object. After several minutes her nails scraped along the side of a metal box which she pulled free of the earth and into the light. It must was green at some point in its existence but now the box showed signs of wear and patches of rust along the edges. Her eyes never leaving her find, she sat back, allowing the grass to dwarf her on the hill. Ayme made sure to scan the area every several minutes, she didn't want Fisk to discover her before she was ready.

The container creaked as it opened to reveal something wrapped in a handkerchief and two data disks. Ayme examined the disks briefly, they didn't seem to have any damage and she determined they would probably still function. Gingerly she placed the cloth in her hand. It fell open to reveal an orange stone that fit perfectly in her palm. A grin spread slowly across her face as she slipped the items into her jacket pocket and walked back to the bunker.

-~~~-

Ayme ran her hand down the bars in the basement. Pressing her face against the cage, she looked into the cell she had shared with her sisters not all that long ago. So much had changed in that span of time and so many changes were yet to come. Ayme resisted the urge to call Aeos or Jaenna, this was something she had to sort out on her own for once. It was time to let the scared little orphan girl die. Jarick and Sarissa's daughter needed to finally wake up from her coma and show people what would happen if they crossed the Katash family.

Ayme had been using one of the empty storage rooms as her workshop, the components for building her lightsaber still covered crudely by the sheet she had found. It was a good thing her nobody was there with her, the blanket wasn't fooling anyone.

Fisk would eventually give up his search or find Drake, which meant Ayme didn't have much time. Although she knew she had all the components, the actual assembly of said elements was a different matter altogether. Her research did, however, have several detailed diagrams with cross-sections of the ancient weapons.

Her hands moved deftly across the table attempting multiple configurations with a will of their own. Ayme had always been able to intrinsically understand how things worked. Taking devices apart, fixing machines that were broken, the practice soothed her, focused her. Thinking about it, she always did seem to know what to do. She knew each connection led to a certain outcome, and could predict that outcome.

She let her eyes partially close until only a slit allowed her to see a limited area. She didn't need her eyes for this task any longer. The parts shone brightly in her mind, she could feel harmony as they came closer to their proper location in the hilt. The power cell slid into its place towards the bottom of the hilt. She covered it with an insulator, although she was fairly sure the power cell would last for many years regardless. The small chamber for the crystal required several tries but finally she spaced the parts out in the correct configuration with enough room for the orange gem in her pocket.

Beads of sweat started to form on her forehead which she wiped away quickly as to continue her work. She became aware of the fact she hadn't eaten in hours but she didn't care, she was close and needed to finish.

The focusing emitter and focusing crystal both fitted near each other above the crystal chamber. She screwed the blade emitter into the very top of the hilt she had found in her parents room. The entire process had been completed in a daze, her mind barely staying on one topic other than revenge longer than a few minutes. She didn't remember placing any of the components in their resting place, yet she knew they were there somehow.

A click snapped her out of her reverie. Ayme blinked, then lowered her gaze to the two halves of a device that were resting on the table under her hands. The emitters were aligned, the lens was in place, and everything was connected waiting patiently for the crystal in her pocket to complete its design.

She stepped back from the table to gaze at her handiwork. Her thumb ran over the stone in her pocket.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Ayme jumped, then remembered the terminal in the living area. She tore herself away from the nearly assembled lightsaber and hurried up to the terminal one room over. The display that was being uploaded from Drake, showed Fisk sitting at the kitchen table drinking from a glass. She sneered at the thought of that prick drinking from one of her mother's glasses, but saved her rage for later.

The adjacent screen was the one demanding her attention. When she returned from Beggar's Ridge, the first thing she did was run a program to attempt to save the data on the disks that were residing with the crystal in the metal box. One fringe benefit of being with Jaenna, was that the woman knew her decryption programs. Ayme kept some of the better ones that she was able to operate without the slicer with her just in case. The program had finished its analysis of the first disk, but much of the data was still corrupted.

From what she could tell the files listed many people and the organizations they were affiliated with. All of them included a laundry list of illegal activities. From what Ayme had learned already about her father, he had been working with Jed to gather intelligence on sect leaders in the Black Sun organization. These disks seemed to contain everything they had found, which would explain why her father had chosen to bury it to keep it safe, protected by the earth.

Drake could probably run a few more algorithms with his programing and decrypt more of the data, but she had her answer to what the disks were. As usual, with every solitary answer a myriad of new questions seemed to arise.

Movement from Fisk caught her eye. He was talking on a comlink, and pointing frantically at something just off camera. He stepped quickly towards whatever it was and she lost sight of the useful parts of his anatomy. "Drake, slowly, move six point two-five degrees clockwise."

She watched as the image crept into place, her deep breathes the only things keeping her patience in check. She didn't need Drake to finish his turn as she could see Fisk standing next to the firepit, a dragon statue in his hands. Her mind flew back to when she first ever saw the original statue, in a vision several months before. She thought it was nothing, just a means to an end for that particular quest she was on. Now everything was coming together, connecting, weaving into an intricate pattern that resounded deep within her. Ayme witnessed the conjunction of so many strands culminating into fleeting moments that could not be a coincidence.

A rage turned her blood to fire as realization dawned in her mind. Fisk was after the crystal, or he believed the crystal would lead him to another treasure the disks perhaps. It didn't' matter to Ayme, this man had dug far enough into her family's life. The one he was speaking to had paid for her parents to die, she wanted this to end, now.

She walked with a hurried pace back to the workshop slamming her fists into the table with enough force to send the two halves of the hilt rocking. Ayme took a deep breath and closed her eyes, getting her focus back. There would be time for the rage, a time when it would be useful as a tool. The components had not been disturbed by her lash out; she grasped the stone in her hands and looked at it for a moment enjoying the feel of it between her fingers. She felt a connection to the crystal, and through it a connection to her past.

It set perfectly in the crystal chamber, as if it had been crafted by time and the earth for that lightsaber. She connected the two halves and quickly used the leather strap to wrap the hand grip. She could see the faint orange glow of the crystal shine just from the light going through the transparent portions of the hilt. Running through a checklist in her mind she checked the blade length adjuster and the power knob. Everything looked to be in working order, as if the device had fallen out of the pages of an ancient text.

Her fingers wound themselves around the leather grip. She held the saber in front of her and marveled at how natural it felt there. She couldn't even tell where her arm stopped and the lightsaber began, it was an extension of her being. Apprehension about pushing the power button briefly began to assault her, only to be overpowered by the image in her mind of Fisk in her home. Without another thought she thumbed the activation switch.

-~~~-

"I don't know what yer talkin' bout. This here reptile lookin' thing got no glowing parts."

Fisk turned the statue over in his large hands. He was sick of this dusty house, sick of this backwards planet and above all else sick and tired of this job. Every time he thought he was done and ready to collect his paycheck, he found out it was only part of the mark. The boss was one of those big thinker's that Fisk never really associated with. Always actually playing chess rather than just smashing the board and being done with it. Fisk was a board smashing kinda guy.

"According to the records I have that statue originally had a crystal in its claws. The brat found the heirloom in the family's ancestral home several months ago, that one is a replica. Kenrick probably had it commissioned; he always was a history buff. It's been in the family for generations, of course he knew the stone was the most important part."

Fisk rolled his eyes and made a 'get on with it' motion with his hand. "Right so boss..."

"Shut up you fool. Jed should have had it, but I checked every part of that pitiful establishment on Corellia. You checked the terminal?"

"Of course I did, but s'nothing there." Fisk was tired of this non-sense, chasing harmless organizations and old fairy tales. He just wanted his payment and a large pint of ale near a half-naked Twi'lek dancer.

" about the droid?"

Fisk blinked, coming out of his reverie. "What droid?"

"That...ah that must be it, look for an astromec droid older model but with some upgrades. It has to be there, and if it's not, someone beat us to the chase."

Fisk nodded silently. He knew what an R2 droid looked like, the upgrades would be lost to him though so he really hoped there was only one of the things lingering in a closet somewhere on the property.

"Find that droid and bring it to me, then we can discuss your fee."

"Well good cause I'm about tir'd..." Fisk realized belatedly that his contact has severed the communication link. "Stupid pompous ass."

Fisk pulled a half smoked cig out of his jacket pocket and attempted to light it, cursing as the wind kept blowing out the flame.

"Need some help with that?"

Fisk growled, the cig clenched in his frustrated teeth. "No, ga'dammit." Finally the flame stayed lit long enough to send the sweet nicotine coursing through his system. A deep breath brought his muscles much needed relief after the aggravating conversation with the asshat who was paying him. The smoke gave him clarity to think again. With the renewed clarity he realized that someone had spoken a moment ago. "Wait a minute."

A fist flew out of nowhere to made contact with his cheek, sending the lit cig flying aimlessly into the living area.

"What the-"

Ayme landed an upper cut in his gut. The air in his lungs escaped to leave only a burning fire in his chest. His eyes could only see the dusty floor and a pair of dark boots as he struggled to compose himself. She grabbed a handful of greasy hair and pulled his face up to meet her gaze.

"Hello Fisk."

"Who the...wait, I know you."

She smiled and moved closer to the merc's face to speak in a whisper. "I'd hope so. You are in my parent's house afterall."

Ayme reached into his simple mind. She waded past the dreams of credits and women to get to the source, going as far into his thoughts as her skills would allow. Fisk had been trained for what he did, prepared for it by a life of scraping by. He didn't grow up aspiring to be a hired hitman, circumstances just pushed him towards the occupation that satisfied his natural skill set and general lack of morals. It wasn't too far-fetched to think something similar couldn't have happened to Ayme had she not been found by Jed and later joined the army.

Fisk must have been getting woozy from her intrusion as he had started to list from side to side under her grasp. "You're the brat."

"Yea, and you're the asshole that killed my father."

Fisk laughed so hard he started coughing once again. "I was about...twelve when that idiot Jarick died sweetcakes. I'm good and all but not that good."

A flash of anger came across her blue eyes. In one quick motion she grabbed Fisk by the throat and slammed him into the wall. Her mind ignored the difference in his size and hers and the burning in her muscles as she pushed them beyond their limits. "Current events Fisk, I'm talking about Jed. Your employers made sure I wouldn't even remember Jarick. I'll make sure they never forget me though."

He looked away, to the cobweb covered window that looked out on a sunny day with only a few clouds on the horizon. An impossible sound brought him back to the situation he had gotten himself into. An orange glow filled the room and his eyes searched slowly for the source. In the girls small hand was a weapon that should have been extinct before either of their births.

"Umm, you should be careful with that glowing stick. Wouldn't want you to lose an arm sweething."

She smiled sarcastically. "I think I can handle my stick just fine Fisk. Now I'll give you one minute, who hired you to kill Jed."

"I didn't kill Jed." Her gaze narrowed and she raised the sword. "I'm ser'ous, geeze girl, I haven't been on Corellia in a decade. It wasn't my mark, in fact the guy that hir'd me want'd to do that one himself."

Ayme's legs shook as a great surge of pain flared up in her chest. Her mind was torn between what she logically knew was the best course of action and the raw anger she simply wanted to unleash on the man before her. She took a long breath, focusing the anger, pinpointing it on his mind. The words he was saying was true, he wasn't the murderer. If it wasn't him then who was it? Using the anger as fuel she pushed forward, searching his mind for the answer. Instead she got glimmers of half spoken sentences that didn't link up.

She lowered the lightsaber slightly. "You're saying your employer was on Corellia, he showed up with those guys and killed Jed." Her mind was racing towards the answer. She could see it, standing there in his mind behind a clear door, all she had to do was open it.

"He sent you here before he'd even killed Jed."

"That's right."

Something still didn't fit… there was a piece of the puzzle she was missing somehow. "How did he know Jed had been here before he confronted him?"

Fisk shrugged. "Well he's been there for years."

Ayme's gaze turned cold, her eyes snapped to his as her grip tightened on the hilt of her lightsaber and his throat simultaneously. The voice that escaped her lips was a sinister whisper of a sound more than words, "What do you mean, years?"

"Grev's been there for years, he let the merc's in the front door. They got the easiest money I've ever seen, I got stuck on this shit hole."

She could feel and hear her heart pound against the jail of her chest. "Grev...Greven? Greven is your boss?" If Greven was Fisks' boss, he was also a sect leader in the Black Sun, he had been a member of Retathorn for years since before Ayme had gone to live with Jed.

If she actually believed he could feel any remorse, that's what she saw in his eyes. He nodded slowly in response to her question. "He's long gone by now I'm sure, Grev was itching to get out of Corellia just as soon as the job was done."

She let him go and staggered back, her emotions swirling around her like a storm. Fisk was talking, going on and on about how great Greven's job was and how he had gotten the short stick, but she couldn't hear the words anymore. The anger in her veins simmered slowly away. The pathetic sack before her didn't deserve her wrath, he was nothing, he was pathetic and not worth her full fury. She would tolerate him though, use him in the calm aftermath of the storm of her ire.

Her eyes slowly rose to his face.

He tried to back up but hit the same wall he had been pinned to a few short minutes before. A scream escaped her lips and her fist slammed into the merc's face more times than she could count. She felt it, the power that was there, underneath the doubt. Ayme finally found the fire she had been missing in all her lessons, the one piece of her that she needed to click into place to move forward.

She leaned in close to whisper in his bloody ear. "You are nothing. I know your every secret, while you just fumble around in the dark."

There was no more need for conversation, she had enough and the damage was done. She swung the saber out of a belated sense of mercy, silencing him as the blade instantly opened and cauterized the flesh across his neck.

She watched him fall, his eye staring without sight up at her from the beyond. Ayme staggered, her mind screamed at her, questioning what she had done. The Order had taught her these things. Somehow it was all connected, it felt right and horribly wrong all at the same time. Her chest started to ache she felt the need to collapse, to cry, and to understand it all.

"Drake," She croaked from her knees.

The little droid appeared near the entrance of the living area, apprehensively rolling from his hiding space. "I need a secure comm link." The droid beeped obediently and made his way to the terminal. A few more minutes passed and in the aftermath she was still dazed from the bombardment of emotions.

Ayme moved in a haze to the terminal and punched in the familiar code she had used so many times before. She expected to see him, Greven, the man she had known since the day she was brought to Retathorn, the man who had betrayed her uncle unto death. Instead she perceived a much more welcome sight. "Bishop." She smiled despite herself, better not to let him see her exhaustion. "How are you?"

"Better, I'm up and able to wheel myself around the medbay. Hav, where is everyone?"

She could see the medical droid floating around in the background but other than that the wide frame was devoid of movement. "When I left Lucy, Venk and Greven were with you."

"Well they're gone, I kinda thought they might have gone with you."

"No..." Ayme wasn't too surprised that Greven was gone, she would enjoy this particular chase. Lucy and Venk being gone as well complicated matters though. "Greven was a mole, Bishop. He killed Jed."

Bishop nodded sadly. "I've been going through the data I recovered. I found communication records, was so pissed off I tore up half the medbay. You'd be proud of the destruction I caused. I'd say it's even on par with some of the mayhem you used to cause around here."

She smiled sadly. "I'm going to find him. I don't know when, or how yet, but I swear to you I will find him."

"I can help."

Ayme flinched. She must have been fatigued as she had thus far worked hard to hide her emotions and only make them visible when it suited her purpose. It was a difficult lesson for her to master, given that she had to come to terms with the limited range of emotions the Black Sun had left her with before she could control them. "Like hell you will. You find a place far from this mess and stay there, Bishop. You understand me, no negotiations on this one."

"But Hav..."

"No dammit." She cut the connection before he could get a trace on her location. She knew her friend all too well, initiating the trace would have been the first thing he did. She couldn't let him get mixed up in this mess, this was her fight. The murderer would have the privilege of meeting her soon enough. She wanted that to be a personal confrontation, not a group therapy session.

Ayme climbed up to the roof. There was a storm brewing on the horizon, the dark clouds clustering together to block out the light piece by piece. She would march into the storm, her fear behind her. A life of stony determination marked her future. She knew that she would never truly be alone anymore, not now that darkness rode with her to her destination like a passenger on a freight train. No matter how many lies, dead ends and wrong turns she would make on her journey she knew the truth was out there somewhere. It was simply waiting for her to discover it.