He slammed to a halt so suddenly that Rar bumped into him. He forgot his hurry to ease along in the dimness. His eyes were better than hers. In the deep shadows she finally picked out a vista that would haunt her forever. Apparently the young woman had tried to make a home in this place. Two mattresses were laid next to each other and hung with tattered sheets. A core-box seemed to serve as both kitchen and entertainment center. Here a toddler sat with one fist near his mouth as he roared out his confusion and abandonment. A younger child was laying close to his mother, her fingertips smoothing over the child's arm as he cried more softly than his brother. What most disturbed the veteran warrior was the hugely protruding womb of the woman lying beside the far mattress.

"Ma'am?" he called quietly, checking all areas of egress as he approached. "Ma'am? Are you all right?"

A low whimper joined the howls and sobs and he knelt to hear the words she tried to put together. Brindar headed straight for the toddler, scooping him up to cradle him in her arms before reaching out to the younger child.

"She's nearly full term," she told One as he leaned close to the woman.

"What are you doing here?" he asked her.

"My husband was a miner," the stranger gasped. "There was no place left for us to go."

Brindar reached out to clasp the woman's hand and took a moment to judge her life force. A wracking cough escaped her and even before Rar shook her head One knew that the outcome would not be good.

"When did your husband leave?" One asked her.

The answer was long in coming. Brindar wondered that each gasping breath wasn't the last. Her evaluation of the children proved them to be strong, if thin, and without any of the worrisome rattle or rail in their breathing that would herald a respiratory problem.

"He died. It's been months. We had nowhere to go."

"Shhh," One told her, combing back the sweaty bangs with his fingertips. "We're here. I'm going to help you up, then we'll find a doctor. We've got creds."

The woman shook and trembled as he eased his arm under her shoulders. The thinness of her seemed disproportionate given the size of her abdomen.

"One, wait," Brindar called. Even as the words escaped One felt the spasms begin. He could feel the life leaving the body in his arms even as Rar could, force or no force.

"Shab," he said again, quickly lowering her. He ducked his head, checking for breath and heartbeat. "I don't...shab!"

Rar lowered the toddler and gently sat the baby in his lap. "Hold your brother, all right?" she asked as the pitiful crying started up again.

She scooted closer to One and to the woman upon which he presently began chest compressions.

"Find me some towels or something. I need something clean from our gear. And my mini servo."

Brindar simply stared at him. "One," she murmured. "She's gone, cyar'ika. There's nothing you can do."

"Three minutes, Brindar," he growled as he continued compressions. "Three minutes until the oxygenated blood runs through and your brain begins to die."

"She's gone, sweet one. There is no more life energy in her?"

"The baby, Brindar. The baby has three minutes."

His eyes bore into hers and she spread her hands on the woman's womb to find the life force remaining inside. Strong.

"Damn it, One," she warned him as she used the force to bring his pack and hers sailing into her lap. "Damn you."

"Take over compressions," he told her as she laid out what he'd requested. She left open their med kit and found the cleanest of the woman's linens. It seemed she'd taken too ill to care for herself quickly. A pile of laundry remained folded inside the weatherproof box.

"Look away," One warned as she moved into position to continue pumping the woman's heart. "And stop when I tell you."

She met his eyes and gathered the force to spread calm through all of them. And then she looked away.

It took him seventy seconds by her count before she heard the thin, lonesome mew of a newborn. He called her halt and shifted the stained and writhing beast onto the cloak she'd spread on the mattress before flipping a sheet over the child's mother. His hands were coated in the matter of birth and death and they shook as he reached out to sever the umbilical cord above the knot he'd tied.

"By all the forgotten gods of Mandalore, I won't be doing that again," he groaned. The filthy hands he held out to her seemed to beg for help.

"Let me get water," Brindar told him, reaching again into their packs for their own precious supply of store-bought.

"Use the tainted first," he warned her. "I've bathed in it already. It'll get the worst of it, then I'll use the other."

Brindar nodded and filled a basin with it. She handed him the soap she'd found in her quick inspection of their surroundings.

"It's getting to be late," she observed as she scrubbed at the now truly pissed newborn with soft towels.

"Yeah. But maybe this makes for a better sob story than yours even and we'll be able to gain something from it."

She grinned at him but her heart wasn't in it. It wasn't until he was shaking the excess moisture from his hands and she had rocked the infant into silence-having found soft swaddling clearly intended for the new arrival-that they spoke again. One reached toward her where she stood with tired, despairing eyes, and cupped her cheeks in both hands. They were cold from the water and her face felt warm. Alive.

"They'd have all died here if it weren't for you," he told her seriously.

"I'm sorry," she began. "I'm sorry for everything. For-"

His mouth upon hers silenced her efficiently. He had never kissed anyone. He wasn't sure how to impart what he was feeling. He just knew he had to. His kiss remained as innocent as hers had been. He ducked his forehead to her brow and swallowed back tears before he could speak.

"Thank you." When she simply stared up at him he explained. "I never had a mother. No one rocked me. No one held me. No one cared if I cried or why. We were grown in vats until we were old enough to start training. I learned to not cry because no one was listening."

His hands came down to cover the child in her arms. "I'd rather die here than let them suffer alone."

Brindar shifted her burden so that she could trace the shape of his jaw. "Let's see if we can't find a way out of this still," she told him. "I can see a lot of things, but I just don't see you letting go of all your big plans for lots of ready cred just to sit and breathe poisoned air."

A quick study had One repacking his own gear to make room for some of the things they found for the children. A few well-worn items of clothing, a small bag of infant supplies and meds, and a couple toys for the boy and his baby brothers.

"We need a bigger bag now," One told Rar as he helped her fashion a sling for the newborn.

"We need some formula and more swaddling," she countered.

He nodded. "I'll get it. Let's just get out of here."

Getting out of there was one experiment in the usefulness of kidnapping a Jedi from a marauding emperor. She simply gauged the distance from the window to the ground and stepped out into the near-total darkness with one child on her hip and the other wrapped securely in a makeshift sling across her body. One shook his head lowered himself using the liquid cable he'd reserved from his survival pack.

Rar hissed as the newborn whimpered pitifully. "There's nothing for him to survive on, One. He's so tiny now-in a few hours he'll get over the trauma of being born and need sustenance."

The man's lips flattened as he shook his head. He could see the beginnings of flame flicker in the window they'd just used as an exit. The timer he'd set had done its job. There would be a funeral pyre to mark the woman's passing.

"If you can order me boots, formula shouldn't be that big a stretch. There's no shortage of goods yet-just poultry by-products."