The unease weighing heavily in Meetra's stomach didn't fade as the silence that pervaded the mining facility followed the group aboard the Harbinger. The unnatural stillness was laced with the idling ship's almost inaudible hum, but it only served to enhance the disquiet; a similar feeling to walking into an abandoned home and finding all the lights on. Seeing the warship so devoid of life was eerie, made even more so than the mining facility because Meetra had experienced the vessel fully-staffed. Previously, she hadn't been able to take two steps without someone dodging out of her way, either because they had their own suspicions regarding her identity or she simply moved too slowly for their liking. Even Jazala and Dekar, her constant escort, had acted like she was purposely trying to be in the way and underfoot.

Atton kept pace at Meetra's shoulder, every step punctuated with a thousand tiny movements: a short sharp turn of the head as he scanned the corridor, dark eyes flicking back and forth; hands tightening on the grip of the mining blasters, the pad of his right index finger tapping restlessly against the trigger guard; a muscle twitching along his jaw, giving away how tightly he clenched it. He caught her looking at him and raised an eyebrow. Meetra shook her head and offered a weak smile. He returned it, shoulders relaxing a fraction, and she felt her own small measure of relief. Atton's anxiety was as infectious as his confidence, and she was already high-strung from the Harbinger's appearance and the fight with HK-50.

Ahead of them, Kreia slowed, coming to a stop when the corridor split into a three-way intersection. When Meetra and Atton caught up to her, she turned her sightless gaze on the former, a small crease between her eyebrows the only indication of her concern. "Something is wrong... I sense no one on board."

Meetra flinched inwardly at the proclamation, the little hope she had of finding any survivors shattering sharply in her chest, but she pushed it down again, locking it away for a more appropriate time. Next to her, Atton crossed his arms and snorted. "You 'sense no one on board?' Sense anymore assassin droids creeping up behind us?"

Kreia ignored him, continuing to speak to Meetra. "Everyone here has been slain."

Meetra forced herself to speak, forcing the words out of her throat like they were edged with sharp glass. "Everyone? You're sure?"

A long unblinking silence was her only answer before the old woman continued. "Strangely, there are few signs of battle." She indicated the hallway with a wave of her hand. "No carbon scoring, no blaster fire. This place has been hit by assassins of a different sort."

"Then what the hell are we doing on this ship?" Fear and anger crackled beneath the surface of Atton's snark. "We were better off in the facility!" He shook his head, rubbing at his temple with the heel of a palm. "You two are supposed to be Jedi? You're the worst Jedi I've ever met." Meetra opened her mouth, the automatic correction already on her tongue before she had even fully processed his words, but Atton cut her off with a sharp gesture. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Spare me the semantics this time, okay?"

Annoyance felt more productive than anxiety or grief, so Meetra let herself focus on it, using the frustration to keep the more debilitating emotions at bay. "Oh, I'm sorry; here I was thinking you wanted off this rock. Maybe you'd like it back in your cell?"

"Maybe I would! At least I'd be safe there!"

"Yes, a perfectly safe death by starvation."

"Enough." Kreia's tone was even, but the sharp edge put an end to the exchange. Meetra deferred to the old woman with a slight bob of the head, while Atton appeared content to glare in silence. "We cannot go back into the facility, and presumably the assassin machine has prevented us from reaching the hanger..." She trailed off, the crease on her forehead deepening.

"Don't expect me to fly this thing," Atton said quickly. "Even if I could, do you know what kind of welcome we'd get if we docked with an abandoned Republic warship?"

Kreia lifted a hand in his direction. "Be silent. I need some time to think."

He scowled at her, then turned and crossed to the far wall, leaning back against it, arms folded over his chest. "Great, let us know what you come up with. We'll just be waiting over here for the next thing that wants us dead."

"The fuel line." Atton and Kreia both turned to look at Meetra, confusion mirrored on their faces. "When the ship docked, I saw a fuel pipe extend from the facility. I assume it's an automatic process, which means it might still be attached."

Atton raised an eyebrow. "What's your point?"

"We may be able to use the fuel line to get around HK-50's contingencies. If we follow it back to the facility, there's a chance we could get into the hanger." Both of them were openly staring at her now, Atton with his mouth open in disbelief. "C'mon, it could work. As long as the ship is no longer refueling and no one follows us, where's the danger?"

"I'd say you've lost your mind, but then I'd be repeating myself," Atton said, a strained chuckle following the words.

Meetra managed a small smile. "That's why it'll work. There's no way HK-50 could have planned for this."

He shook his head and leaned away from the wall, rejoining the two women in the center of the corridor. "Look, I don't mean to cast a shadow on this, but even that did work, it wouldn't matter. Remember the drift charts? No ship in the hanger is going to have the updated ones, so unless you want to have the shortest flight out of Peragus ever recorded, we're still stuck."

"But the Harbinger does," Meetra pointed out. "Otherwise, it couldn't have docked." She looked back and forth between her companions. Kreia seemed pleased, a tiny half-smile at the corner of her mouth, while Atton, though clearly reluctant, nodded in acknowledgement. "Let's focus on the problem we can solve. Without the drift charts, getting to the hanger means nothing."

Atton switched both blasters over to one hand long enough to run a hand through his hair. "Well, we'd have to get to the bridge. I mean..." He shook his head. "Well, that's the biggest problem I can see. That we can solve, anyway."

Kreia nodded, the motion conveying a sense of finality to the matter. "That is a sound plan - for the moment. Let us go." She gestured for Meetra to lead, a hint of impatience in the movement. "Our enemies gather while we wait here."

Meetra took a deep breath and nodded. "To the bridge, then."

"All right... but this won't end well. Trust me," Atton warned, but he fell in behind Meetra as she moved out into the main corridor. The ship's nooks and pathways were still fresh in her mind, despite the gaps between her days on the Harbinger and arriving at Peragus - the bridge was only a short distance forward from the airlock. She scanned the hallway as they walked, searching for any clue to the ship's current state. The corridor was pristine, as devoid of leads as it was of life. As they approached the door to the bridge, a sense of dread crept up her spine and into her chest, and she hesitated before cycling the door. Some part of her warned that as long as the door stayed shut, she could turn around and return to the facility, leaving the mystery of the Harbinger's crew unsolved; she wasn't sure if it was her newly nascent connection to the Force, or just her own fear. "Meetra?" Atton's voice shook her out of her contemplation and galvanized her to action. She reached for the door's sensor, staggering backward into the rogue as it slid open to display a tableau of corpses from the threshold to the navigation console.

Atton caught her before she sent them both sprawling, the breath leaving him in a rush as he got his own look at the carnage. Black and orange-clad bodies covered the bridge's floor, each covered in numerous burns and slashing wounds. There was a manufactured feel to the way they were strewn about, as if they had been killed elsewhere and dumped here to preserve the ship's spotless facade. Even Kreia seemed shaken, taking a quick step back from the doorway. Atton was the first to break the silence, his voice a strangled whisper. "What the hell did this?"

"I suggest we do not remain long enough to find out," Kreia said, clearly having recovered her composure. She gave Meetra a pointed look before striding through the door, gingerly stepping around the carpet of bodies. Atton gently pushed Meetra back to her feet, grousing about the old woman's attitude under his breath, and followed Kreia onto the bridge. Meetra hesitated a moment longer, gathering herself. She'd seen death on a large scale before, even caused it during the Mandalorian Wars, but this... this was monstrous in its execution. None of these people had fought back, which meant they had either been incapacitated prior to their deaths or unaware of their assailants before the attack. Meetra took another breath and trailed after her companions, keeping her eyes averted so as not to catch a glimpse of dark curls or golden skin.

Atton was already at the navigation console, pulling the drift charts up and downloading them onto a small drive produced from a jacket pocket. Kreia stood near him, hands folded in the sleeves of her robe and head bowed so that her hood fell down over her eyes. She didn't look up as Meetra approached, and the latter chose not to disturb her, turning instead to an adjacent terminal. She called up the menu and selected the Harbinger's holo-logs. When Captain Donshe's visage materialized in front of her, her chest tightened, but she quickly pushed it aside as he began to speak. "... We have taken on passengers to Telos - "

He was interrupted by a female officer, her panic clear even through the wavy footage. "Sir, we've just received an emergency broadcast - a freighter, under attack by Sith forces."

Donshe frowned, his already lined face becoming more creased. "Can you get an ID on the ship?"

"Yes, sir, we have its ID signature." The officer handed Donshe a datapad. "It's not in our databanks, but its profile suggests some low stock freighter... says it's being hit hard by a Sith warship." Donshe didn't respond, his focus on the datapad, an intense expression on his face. The officer hesitated, waiting for a reply before she spoke again. "Sir?"

The captain's head snapped up, as if hearing her for the first time. He returned the datapad, his face becoming a passive mask once more. "I'll need to confirm with Command before we intercept." Meetra frowned as the log ended. Kreia had said nothing about Sith attacking the Ebon Hawk or the Harbinger. She glanced over her shoulder at the old woman, but she didn't appear to have heard the log or noticed Meetra's attention. On the console, the next log began to play, revealing that Donshe had indeed brought the freighter aboard the warship. To her horror, he had also tethered the Harbinger to a seemingly abandoned Sith warship. Meetra paused the log when Donshe attributed the collection of the Ebon Hawk to an admiral's order. Jazala had let slip that an admiral was believed to have "requested" her presence back in Republic space. Possibly a coincidence, but still... She logged the possible connection away and let the logs continue.

The next log revealed that while no survivors had been discovered on either ship, a body had been found aboard the Sith warship. Donshe made his unease known, but gave the order the bring the corpse on board for autopsy. Hesitantly, Meetra selected the final log, a small tremor shaking her hands. Donshe appeared once more, looking more haggard then in the previous logs. "... We're still experiencing a problems with the communications array, and now maintenance is telling me there's a cascade failure in the weapons sys -"

"Sir!" Once again, he was interrupted by the same female officer from the first log. "I just picked up an unusual sound from the medlab." Tinny screams and the sound of glass breaking overlaid her image, followed by a gravely, unnerving voice: "I have come for the Jedi."

"What the hell was that?!" Donshe demanded, face pale even in the washed-out hologram.

The officer shook her head, the captain's intensity visibly heightening her panic. "Sir, I... I don't know - communications just got cut -"

Donshe turned away from her, moving with frightening purpose. "Send a security team to the medlab! Now!" The log dissolved into static, but Meetra continued to stare at the space it had occupied. Something had followed the Ebon Hawk aboard the Harbinger and attacked her crew; most likely it was responsible for the bodies piled around her feet. Kreia's words returned to her: a different sort of assassin. She ran a hand through her hair, tugging at the ends. Why could she not remember any of this? Clearly, she had found herself aboard the Ebon Hawk before the Harbinger had been attacked, but she had no memory of the event. It wasn't possible this had occurred without her noticing. Even with Jazala and Dekar steering her away from the ship's more clandestine areas, she would have had to be unconscious to miss the warship pulling a freighter on board.

"Alright, we're good to go here." Meetra started and turned sharply at Atton's voice. He gave her an odd look, but she waved him off before he could speak. He didn't appear to have heard the logs; probably best to keep her knowledge of Sith involvement to herself. She joined him and Kreia, and the three gingerly picked their way back across the bridge's macabre carpeting. Atton allowed Kreia to move ahead of him, falling back to keep pace with Meetra. "Are you alright? Looked like you'd seen a ghost back there."

"In a way," she said, purposely keeping her answer vague. The sour look he gave her in return actually pulled a small laugh from her. "Republic ships are all the same; you've been on one, you've been on them all. That's all it is."

"Sure," he said, and she could hear the uncertain note in his tone. While not a lie, it was far closer than she liked. They were supposed to be able to trust each other, and here she was keeping potentially crucial information from him; information that she was almost certain Kreia had kept from her. The thought didn't sit well. Atton was still watching her and she fought the urge to brush her hair forward like a curtain between them, settling for a quick flick of her bangs to break his gaze. He looked away, appearing to realize that he'd made her uncomfortable. "Hope this plan of yours works. I mean, I've always said a beautiful women would probably be the death of me, but this wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

Meetra rolled her eyes and turned to mock-glare at him, but a flicker of movement behind his left shoulder caught her attention. Atton followed her gaze, brows drawing in confusion when he saw nothing there. "What's wrong?" She ignored him, stopping dead in the hallway while keeping on eye on the spot. Ahead of them, Kreia had stopped as well, her vibrocutter held out in front of her defensively. Atton glanced back and forth between them, fingers tightening on the grips of the mining blasters. Meetra scanned the hallway, reaching for the Force more out of comfort than anything. She felt its faint warmth flow through her, heightening her senses and calming her nerves. She had almost convinced herself the movement was a figment of her imagination when she spotted it again, this time over Atton's other shoulder.

Her instincts kicked in and she lunged forward, vibroblade extended. She threw her free hand out toward the rogue, using the Force to push him out of harm's way, ignoring his shout of protest. Rather than colliding with the ship's corridor, her blade caught on something solid and thin, but unseen: a rod or pole. Using the crossed weapons as leverage, she shifted her weight to her back foot and kicked out with her free leg, aiming where a person's midsection would be. A disembodied grunt echoed off the corridor walls as her boot impacted against a hard surface, with a little give beneath it - body armor? The rod disappeared from beneath her vibroblade as the invisible assailant slid to the side, but she caught herself before toppling, backing away to put herself between the attacker and her companions. A sort of static fizzled in the center of the hallway; her opponent had a stealth generator equipped, likely damaged by the kick to the chest. Meetra darted forward, feinting low, and then swung her vibrosword high, slicing the blade along her assailant's chest. Sparks followed the blade, the static increasing dramatically. Gathering the Force to her, Meetra gestured and flung the attacker sideways into the corridor wall.

The combined force was too much for the stealth generator and it failed, revealing a dark-clad figure slumped against the wall. A hood covered their face, one of the red lenses over the eyes cracked from the impact with the corridor. One hand still clutched a long rod with a sharp point at each end. Taking advantage of the group's surprise, the assassin lunged upright, squaring up against Meetra. They spoke, an angry masculine hiss emerging from beneath the mask. "You go no further, Jedi. I will deliver your body to my master."

"What the hell is going on?!" Meetra ignored Atton's outburst, concentrating on the assassin. She stretched her senses out, pushing her limited power in the Force to its maximum. She couldn't detect any trace of power from him, but her instincts and his mention of a master screamed "Sith." An apprentice in training perhaps, or maybe just a fanatic. Either way, she didn't much care. Meetra lunged at the assassin again, aiming to knock the staff from his hands. He anticipated the movement and stepped out of her range, bringing the staff around in a low sweep toward her ankles. She sidestepped the weapons, backing off as Kreia swept past her.

Despite her blindness, the old woman attacked with precision and fury. She forced the attacker back, the vibrocutter moving impossibly fast in her hands. Though she couldn't see the assassin's face, Meetra could read his desperation in his movements. He continued giving ground with every attack, constantly defending without opportunity for a counter-attack. Kreia broke her attack for only an instant, waving her hand in a mimicry of Meetra's earlier gesture, slamming the Sith into the wall. Meetra felt the old woman's power ripple through the Force, almost staggering her. Kreia drove her weapon into her opponent's side through a gap in the body armor, with enough force to snap the blade from the hilt. The assassin cried out, body curling in on itself like a bug pinned to a collection board, and then went limp, his staff falling to the floor.

For a long moment, no one moved. Kreia stood over the dead assassin, breathing slightly labored, one hand held out toward the body as if she expected it to lurch back to its feet. Meetra held her defensive crouch, vibroblade held out in front of her. Behind her, Atton stood with his arms hanging loose at his sides, too stunned by Kreia's brutal assault to speak. Eventually, Meetra broke the silence, slowly straightening and lowering her weapon. "We could have gotten information from him."

"We now know we are not alone on this ship," Kreia said. Her voice was level and cool, sounding almost detached from the situation. "What more information do we need?" She tossed the useless hilt next to the body and scooped up the staff. She turned to Meetra and held it out, extending her free hand as well. Understanding the unspoken request, Meetra took the staff and gave the old woman the vibroblade. She twirled the staff once, finding the balance and weight much closer to what she had been accustomed to than the mining beacon. She nodded to Kreia, who gestured back down the corridor. "We must continue. Our time was already short."

The motion seemed to snap Atton out of his trance and he backed away from both of them, half-raising his blasters. He gestured at the dead Sith, forcing Meetra to lean to the side to avoid any accidental fire. "I'm gonna need an explanation, or you need to find another pilot."

Kreia's lips thinned, but Meetra ignored her. "He was Sith."

Atton's eyes widened. "What? No, the Sith are dead, just like the Jedi."

"I saw it in the ship's logs," she explained. "They encountered and boarded an abandoned Sith warship."

"Let me guess: not so abandoned."

Meetra glanced over her shoulder at the body. "So it would seem. Something... else... came back with them as well. It caused an emergency in the medlab."

Atton paled slightly. "Is it still here?"

She shook her head and shrugged. "I don't know."

"This is getting us no closer to our goal," Kreia cut in, the annoyance clear in her voice. "We have what we came for; I suggest we move quickly. It is not likely he was the last." She started off again, not bothering to see if the other two followed. Atton stared after her, then turned to Meetra. The distrust in his eyes was painful to see; the reluctant acceptance was almost as bad. Meetra opened her mouth, to apologize or defend herself, she wasn't sure, but he shook his head and turned away to follow Kreia down the corridor. Meetra trailed after him, doing her best to ignore the guilty pang in her chest.