Disclaimer: Griff Vao isn't mine either, just a well-written NPC like BioWare does all the time.

The column of raiders and refugees marched further into the desert. Two riders on dewbacks rode behind them, erasing their tracks with sweeps of their mounts' long tails. Jolee called the Shadow to join them at Griff's camp. They continued for an hour or two, eventually coming to a cluster of camouflaged tents in the shadow of a large dune. More escaped refugees were tending cooking fires. A pair of moisture vaporators stood in the center of the camp. They heard a rumble overhead; the picket flared to a landing just beyond the tents. The rest of the crew walked down the ramp; Griff waved them over. "Let's get inside, and then we can talk."

Juhani frowned. "Griff, how did you come to be raiding the Czerka? When I was last here, you were working for them."

Griff shrugged. "I quit. Mission called me a miserable schutta for helping Lorso wipe out the Dune Sea clan. She was right. You didn't see what Czerka did later on. The 'refugee camp' should have been the last straw-would have, if I was a better man. I helping people escape, for a price. And the people… even though I was charging an arm and a leg, they were still grateful. Some would hug me before taking the ship off-planet. Taking their money stopped feeling so great, but getting people out felt good, and I liked feeling good, so I charged less and less, and helping more people leave. Then Lorso caught on, and I had to run." He smiled. "It's funny. Without the portable vaporators I made to double-cross the Sand People, I'd have died out here. I dismantled the homing beacon, but Lorso's mercs were chasing me, and I needed a place to hide." He pointed. "This is what I found." A trough in the dune's side led to a rocky cave. The inside of the cave was lined with stone carvings, and at the back…

Juhani's jaw dropped. "The Star Map!"

Jolee began to laugh; Griff turned to the old Jedi. "What's so funny?"

Jolee took a moment to get control of himself. "The Force has a hand in the course of all our lives. Sometimes it is subtle, sometimes, not so much."

Griff sat on a fallen pillar. "So that's it. Some of the other escapees stayed behind, began helping me raid the mining camp. A schutta is a small predator native to Ryloth. They are sneaky, and often trouble for farmers. The name stuck, and I've been the Sand Schutta for about a year." He looked up. "Jedi, can you help me?"

Jolee nodded. "I think so. Let's get aboard our ship; we can plan more easily there."

Griff followed them aboard the Shadow, and they gathered around the mess table. Belaya checked her chrono. "I've called Mandalore to join us; he should be here soon." Ten or so minutes later, her comm chirped. She thumbed it on. "Starboard hatch is open."

They heard heavy footsteps; Mandalore walked in from the airlock. "Good evening, everyone," he said. "I've met with the Mandalorian unit here. They're not happy with the idea of working for slavers. The commander, Bralor, is happy to see a new Mandalore; he and his warriors have sworn their loyalty to me. The battalion is sitting in their barracks in Anchorhead; we're at your disposal for this mission. What do you want us to do?"

Belaya turned to Griff. "We can't get half a million people off-planet. We may be able to attack the Czerka, but what then?"

Griff shrugged. "The refugees have nowhere else to go, anyway. The problem is Czerka. I was hoping to drive the Corporation out of Anchorhead, make their operation unprofitable so they would leave. The Czerka security forces are lightly armed; most only have force pikes. With Mandalorian shock troops and seven Jedi attacking them, they haven't a prayer of winning. They'll cut and run. The refugees can take over the mines and town. Czerka built the camp out here where there are no laws, so no one can order the refugees to hand it back to Lorso."

Thalia smiled. "That would serve Czerka right. We need an attack plan."

Mandalore crossed his arms. "The Mandalorian battalion can easily handle the Czerka force, despite their numbers. We only need to hit part of the camp; the headquarters area by the mountain where the Czerka guards live. We can form a perimeter, and cut them off from the refugee area." He frowned. "The problem is getting there. The site has a concussion missile battery defending it. There are three four-round launchers around the perimeter; targeting comes from a sensor array on top of the security building. The speeder transports won't get within twenty klicks of the site without being spotted and fired on."

Juhani looked at Dustil, who shook his head. "The Shadow hasn't got a prayer against concussion missiles." He brightened. "I need a map." He brought out his datapad and worked for a moment. "The Czerka have ground-attack airspeeders, a Sith model that I've flown before. There is a series of valleys and ravines called Beggar's Canyon not far from Anchorhead. It passes close to the mountain above the camp. I can steal a speeder and run the canyon at low level, hiding in the terrain clutter. When I pop up to hit the sensor array, I'll be so close the missile battery won't get a lock in time. Once the sensor array is down, the launchers will lose their targeting data. The Mandalorian transports can then bring in the troops." He turned to Belaya. "Master, you will have to fly the Shadow." Belaya nodded curtly.

Griff pursed his lips. "We need to make sure the Czerka don't start shooting refugees."

Yun smiled tightly. "Sounds like a job for snipers. Marks and I will hike back to the camp and find a perch on the mountain above it. We can pick off Czerka sentries, and cover the landing. Your raiders can fit aboard the Shadow; we'll land you in the camp."

Jolee turned to Mandalore. "Some of your soldiers should secure the spaceport so the other airspeeders and fighters cannot be launched against us."

Mandalore nodded slowly. "We can handle that." He turned to Dustil. "My G-wing is just outside. When you're ready, we'll fly back to the spaceport."

They spent the next hour or so hashing out details. Dustil and Mandalore flew back to Anchorhead. Mandalore gathered his officers to receive their orders. It was a few hours before first dawn when Dustil moved to the edge of the spaceport with the Mandalorians. That's when the trouble started. The spaceport was on alert; at least a hundred Czerka guards patrolled the perimeter. The pilots were sitting under a small tent near the fighters and speeders, ready to scramble. Bralor turned to Mandalore. "Let me handle this." He quickly signaled the battalion to form into ranks. They marched to the gate with Mandalore, Bralor, and Dustil at the head of the column.

A Czerka guard waved them to stop. "What's going on here?" he asked.

Bralor shrugged. "Lorso wants us at our ships. We may be moving out later today."

The guard was taken aback. "I'm sorry, sir. I wasn't told you were coming." He cocked his head at Dustil. "What's with him?"

"He's my son," said Mandalore, swatting Dustil on the shoulder. "Whelp hasn't earned his armor yet. If Lorso orders the strike, he'll get a crack at some Jedi, just like the old days."

The guard grinned. "There's nothing like a day out hunting for some father-son bonding." He waved the battalion through the gate. They began walking to their gunships, then drew weapons and opened fire on the Czerka. The guards were taken completely by surprise, but took cover and returned fire. Mandalore ran behind Dustil, covering him with rapid fire from an enormous repeating blaster. Dustil hopped into a speeder and closed the canopy. The small flier was ready to take off, with a full ordnance load. Dustil was moving less than ten seconds after strapping in. A rifleman fired at him as he took off, but missed high. As Dustil made his turn towards the desert, he saw a Sith Interceptor roaring off the catapult rail. Dustil pushed the throttle forward and dove into the canyon with the Czerka pilot hot on his tail.

Dustil twisted the speeder through Beggar's Canyon, trying to ignore the guy behind him. There was no way his speeder could outrun a starfighter. On the other hand, the interceptor chasing him was designed for high-speed combat in open space, not low-level flying in atmosphere. He took a moment to check his stores. Two light blaster cannons, two rocket pods with three rounds each, and four incendiary bombs. Enough to cause some trouble. Now I just have to get there alive… A pair of cannon bolts zipped over his canopy and exploded against the canyon wall. "Shadow, this is Dustil," he called into the comlink. "I'm making my approach. Five minutes to target." Dustil didn't jink to avoid the enemy fire; just flying through the canyon kept him unpredictable enough. All I have to think about is flying. You have to think about flying and aiming. Let's see if I can scrape him off. He brought up a map of the canyon in the heads-up display; there was a side passage about three kilometers ahead.

Dustil waited until long after the last second, then pushed the stick left, booted right rudder, and popped his starboard speed brake. The airspeeder's nose yawed to the right and the craft skidded sideways. Dustil retracted the brake, applied a second of left rudder, then centered his controls. The flier accelerated into the side passage at ninety degrees from its prior direction of travel. The Czerka pilot pulled up, looped over the top, performed a quarter roll to starboard, and came out of his dive into the side canyon. Dustil had gained some distance, but the much faster starfighter caught back up quickly. A vector roll! Okay, this guy has talent. The pursuing pilot fired again but missed, blasting chunks of stone out of the canyon wall. The side passage opened back onto the main canyon. Dustil nosed the speeder lower to the valley floor, where the canyon was narrower. The interceptor followed him down, staying off the walls with ease, and taking potshots every so often.

Dustil checked his map. The Czerka camp was not too far ahead. I need to lose him long enough to make the strike, and then we'll play. He spotted his chance ahead, where a stone spire rose from the canyon floor. It split into two columns, topped by a natural arch. The hole through the pillar was perhaps thirty meters high by ten wide. Dustil grinned. Yes, I am crazy enough. He banked to pass wide of the pillar, then broke left and rolled the speeder into knife-edge flight to pass through the hole. The interceptor couldn't correct in time, and had to climb out of the canyon to avoid crashing. Dustil saw the mountain rising ahead of him; the camp was on the far side. He slammed the throttle forward, looking up and back for the Czerka fighter. It was circling clear, leaving him to the missile battery. He flipped on the master arm switch and selected rockets. Dustil popped up and roared out from behind the mountain. Instantly, his threat receiver began beeping as the speeder was illuminated by the missile battery sensor. Dustil spotted the tower ahead and began his attack run. The beeping changed to a solid tone as the concussion missile locked on. There was a flash as one of the launchers fired. Dustil tapped the firing button, ripple-firing all six rockets into the tower. The sensor array was blown to pieces; the missile went stupid and flew harmlessly past. "Shadow, the targeting sensor is destroyed. Assault force is clear to approach."

Dustil began a sweeping turn, looking over his right shoulder as the interceptor dove back in, firing. Dustil saw an opening; he extended both speed brakes and pulled back on the stick, instantly standing the speeder on its tail. His engine thrust blew up a huge cloud of sand; the Czerka pilot whipped past. Dustil dropped the nose and throttled up, sliding in behind the fighter. He smoothly pulled lead, then squeezed the trigger twice. The first burst blew the right wing off; the second hit dead center. The interceptor spun crazily and exploded. Dustil let out a long breath. "Shadow, I'm on station for air support."

Yun Genda was lying prone in his perch on the mountainside. He and Marks had constructed a small fighting position from rocks and camouflage netting. He watched the Czerka mining camp through his rifle's scope. The Czerka security barracks was fenced off from the main compound. It had been quiet with half an hour to the start of a new workday. That changed abruptly when Dustil blasted the tower and the air-defense system went down. Lights came on in the buildings, and several officer types raced out to the balcony to scan the town with macros. Czerka mercs began to form up in the marshaling yard. Yun keyed his comlink. "Shadow, Yun here. The barracks is waking up. What's your E.T.A.?"

"We are two minutes out," replied Juhani.

Yun frowned, then looked up at the circling airspeeder. "Dustil, can you hit the barracks? They were already on alert, and they'll be up and ready to fight before the transports get here."

There was silence over the comm. "I have incendiary bombs on board, but I'd rather not burn a couple thousand people alive if I can help it." Dustil thought a moment. "How much time do you need me to buy?"

"Three minutes," called Juhani, "enough for the Mandalorians to get on the ground."

Dustil began a wide, swooping dive. "I know just how to do that." He made his run on the barracks and dropped the bombs. They hit short, creating a wall of fire between the Czerka and the refugee area. The mercs had to stop and fight the flames before they could move out.

"Excellent, Dustil," called Belaya from the picket, "Circle until we arrive, then we'll land together." The Mandalorian gunships appeared and began off-loading troops.

Two of the battalion's three companies landed on the lower slopes of the mountain, leaving the Czerka with a literal uphill fight on their hands. The third company, with Mandalore in command, landed on the road and advanced on the main gate. The Czerka riflemen in the towers began shooting at the Mandalorians. Yun and Marks opened fire, killing several and forcing the rest to duck. The Shadow arrived and strafed the Czerka at the base of the mountain before landing in the desert on the far side of the gate. Dustil set down next to the picket, and the Jedi began closing on the Czerka position. The mercs were forced to defend on three sides; with the fourth being open desert with no cover. Then things started to go wrong. The Czerka main force snuffed the fire with cryoban grenades and began to counterattack. More and more mercs poured out of the main barracks. They took cover and began firing back with pistols and rifles. The Mandalorians had far superior weapons and armor, but were outnumbered more than ten to one, and bogged down short of the perimeter.

The Czerka produced grenade launchers; they fired concussion shells and vertigon gas into the Mandalorian lines, causing the troops to retch and stagger. Several repeaters opened up from the upper floors of the barracks and security building, and the Czerka began pushing the Mandalorians back. Yun and Marks focused their fire on the repeaters, but that left the mercs free to get riflemen back in each tower. They began picking off the troops affected by the gas. The Jedi tried to attack the Czerka flank, but were driven back by heavy fire. The Czerka were pushing outward in all directions, and threatening to encircle the much smaller Mandalorian force. Then they heard the roar. Griff and his raiders were charging down the main street toward the gate. They led a huge mob of refugees armed with blasters, mining lasers, vibrocutters, and even kitchen knives. The charging crowd rushed the Czerka from their rear. The mercs tried to turn and fight, but were forced to retreat into the buildings. They barricaded themselves inside and began firing from the windows and rooftop. Mandalorians sprayed the building with automatic fire, forcing the Czerka away from the windows. The firing slowly died down, and a tense calm fell over the camp.

Belaya clicked on her comlink. "Mandalore, establish a perimeter. Don't shoot unless they do." She turned to Griff. "Tell your people to stand down and get into their homes. The Czerka aren't going anywhere, the Mandalorians have them trapped. We Jedi will handle it from here."

Griff smiled; Juhani poked two fingers into his chest. "Control the refugees. No mob justice, no lynchings. You haven't the resources to imprison this many people, so you'll have to be satisfied with kicking them off-planet."

Griff nodded. "I'll spread the word. No one else needs to die-if they go quietly, and right now."

Juhani then turned to Jolee. "Take Thalia and start tending to any wounded."

Belaya walked up to the security building door and banged loudly. "Let us in, Lorso! We need to talk."

The Mirialan appeared at a second-floor window. "Two negotiators, unarmed."

Belaya beckoned to Griff. "Let's go."

Lorso was in a conference room on the second floor. "I assume the workers want their debts forgiven?"

Griff howled with laughter. "Ms. Lorso, this is not a labor negotiation. You're a corporate type; you should recognize a hostile takeover."

Lorso put her hands to her head. "I don't have the authority to give up this facility, it cost billions of credits. Even if I did agree to that, Czerka won't honor the deal; they'll fire me and send someone else."

Griff opened his mouth angrily; Belaya held up a hand. "What Czerka decides to do later is their problem." Her face hardened. "This is a chance-the only one you will get-to leave with your lives."

Lorso nodded numbly. "Will you allow my people to retrieve their personal effects?"

Griff nodded. "There are more than enough ore freighters in Anchorhead to fit everyone. Take whatever belongings you have. Weapons and armor, you leave behind."

The Czerka survivors walked out of the barracks carrying duffel bags, to the cheers of the crowd. They were taken to the spaceport in speeder buses escorted by Mandalorian gunships. They boarded several ore freighters and began the uncomfortable flight back towards Republic space. Griff met with the Jedi and Mandalore in the former Czerka headquarters.

They called Carth and Wann and filled them in on the details. "Admiral, a small Republic force would be helpful here," said Griff, "Perhaps one frigate, enough to train a police force, and oversee the set-up of a government."

Carth nodded. "I'll see what I can do."

Juhani turned to Wann. "Do you have another mission for us?"

"Nothing yet," replied Wann, "but I did want to speak to Mandalore. I have billets in the fleet for his men."

Mandalore shook his head. "I'm sorry, Commander. I know you have orders to keep the Mandalorians from regaining our strength. Revan left me orders just before he left known space. We are going to form a colony, somewhere out of the way. The clans will gather again, and prepare ourselves. The day will come when Revan will need warriors at his side. The Mandalorians will answer his call."

Carth shrugged. "I can't stop you leaving. Don't make me regret trusting you, Mandalore. Warriors keep their word."

The Mandalorians loaded an empty ore freighter with construction equipment and building materials and left later that day. The crew made ready to re-board the Shadow.

"Wait a minute!" Griff sprinted after them. "I'm coming with you."

Juhani, Jolee and Belaya exchanged a glance. Jolee smiled. "Revan picked up strays too." He shook Griff's hand. "Welcome aboard."

The Jedi all twitched simultaneously as they felt a tremendous disturbance in the Force. "What was that?" asked Yuthura.

Jolee shook his head. "That was death, Yuthura, many deaths, all at once."

Thalia fell to her knees, vomited, and began weeping. "Oh, gods, no!" she wailed. "My Master is dead!"

A/N: I always felt like Griff was supposed to be in the party, like the game designers had to take a turn due to story, etc. as they did with Jowan in Dragon Age: Origins. KotOR was made before modern party setup, so there was no need for more than one rogue, and they already had T3 anyway. But this party needs a rogue, and Mission is busy. Enter Griff, finally getting his second chance. What do you think of Griff coming along, or the story so far in general? Review or PM me, I want to hear!