(A/N) Thanks for all the support yall! I'm glad oy all are enjoying, I'm getting really into it now :) Please R and R, let me know what you think

Korkie Kryze had found himself in a number of peculiar situations as of late. He was, or techinically his mother was, the heir to the Mandalorian throne; and as he had gotten older, there were more and more responsibilities being passed onto him. He had led the brigade to aid in Obi-Wan Kenobi's rescue (something he had not expected his auntie to approve as a proposal in the first place), had taken to leading the baseline workings of the planet while she had gone to the Senate, and now was a Prisoner of War. Well, not war, exactly. Not yet. Conflict, his aunt would say.

But beyond that, he found himself caught in a place of explicit and unexplainable cruelty. He had not been mistreated particularly, other than being chained to a wall beyond his control and not quite given enough food or water. Until the night before, when he had been moved form his location at the front of the prison of the prison tent and instead had shared a cell with the only other prisoner worth keeping alive to these people. If he hadn't seen diagrams of battlefield injuries and taken a lead in to several medical courses at the academy, he might have vomited at the sight before him. A dying man, baptized in his own blood; suspended from the ceiling like some form of sick puppet.

Instead, after they had left him, he had shuffled as closely as he could, trying to speak with the man. It had taken him over an hour to realize that the man was Obi-Wan Kenobi. At the thought, a heavy burden of sorrow settled on him. From the way his Aunt talked about him, despite her outward visod, he understood how important this man was to her. And for that, as well as the fact that this was another innocent being, he had tried to help him.

Tried to speak with him to no avail. Had stood for long enough to try and loosen the chains that suspended and anchored him at the same time, but the guards had stopped him shortening his own linkages where he was helpless against the wall. It had been a long night, with little sleep and an almost insurmountable silence.

And then there was now, where he was being paraded in a field; he could feel the eyes of the hidden separatist battalions in the woods around him. He would have yelled at the coming party, only three figures, but his mouth was gagged with a rag that stank of alcohol and tasted of blood. Vizsla had a grip on his arm, unnecessary since he was chained to a low buzzing droid that weighed at least six times as much as he did.

Instead he watched, seeing the fine blonde hair of his Aunt in the distance. She was walking into a trap, and he, like the Jedi Master who had been left in the company of the red Sith as he had left, was helpless to stop it.


Anakin. He heard it so faintly, he thought it might be Ahsoka. He looked to her, but she was looking straight ahead. Anakin. It was even fainter, less than a whisper. Less whole than true words.

"Stop." He said, and the Duchess, though looking quizzical, paused along with Ahsoka. There were no more words, but there were images. Maul. Vizsla. Ventress. Those he expected, those might have been his own. Then Grievous. Then droids. Old images, pictures that flitted through his mind of places like Geonosis and Endor where droids had been hidden in the trees and dunes. Hiding. Waiting. The slaughter that followed, thousands of clones destroyed; dead Jedi strewn on open battlefields.

He tried to concentrate on them, but they faded, and then were gone. The thoughts were not his own. He looked forward, seeing at least four forms in the spot they were supposed to be; one was Ventress, easily recognizable. The other the massive Dathomirian that he had seen take Obi-Wan from the temple to begin with. The other two had to be Vizsla and Korkie. It seemed all was as it should be, but he couldn't shake the feeling. Where had those thoughts come from? They were certainly not conducive to the task at hand.

"Master?" Ahsoka said. If they waited much longer, they would miss the time cut off.

"Wait." He said, and a thought hit him. A terrible thought. He reached out with the force, trying to focus not on the living but the unifying, reaching beyond where he could feel his unconscious master, Darth Maul, Ventress, the others. Beyond that; and suddenly, heightened by his own field of vision, it was as if he could feel the Mandalorian soil moving underneath him. The thumping of thousands of battle droids, human soldiers, the clamping of Grievous' metal talons.

"It's a trap." He whispered. And, more than that, his Master had warned them.


Rex stood with Cody outside of the transport ship, both fully armored; but hoping this would be relatively easy. "I knew it was too much to ask," Rex joked, wishing it could be more lighthearted, their last trip on Serreno weighing heavy in his mind, his comlink starting to buzz.

"What can I do for you, General?" A tiny version of Skywalker appeared, whispering.

"Rex. I need oy to move everything but one squad into this area. We've been set up. Grievous is here with the rest of the separatist forces; the Death Watch soldiers are hiding and waiting for Satine to reject the terms of contract to attack. Darth Maul is here. You will need Jedi. Bring Master Mundi to us, Master Yoda will need to go into the camp. I believe Maul is there, defending Obi-Wan in case we attempt to break him out. You wont be able to kill him, send in the best squadron, force only knows what kind of defences they have."

"Don't move from your position, General. We'll be there as quickly as we can."

"It'll have to be faster than that, Rex. We don't have a choice. They can't know we know. We'll stall as long as we can."

"Yes, sir." Rex turned to Cody, but the man already had his helmet on, clones loading into the speeders behind him.

"I'll lead the troops to Skywalker. Go for the General." The fomer Domino squad stepped up behind Cody, saluting to Rex.

"Kenobi is your General, Cody; don't you think you should be the one to get him?"

A gloved hand wrapped around his shoulder army. "He is as much your General as he is mine, Captain." And he disappeared into the hold.

Rex nodded to his squad, not having to say a word as they boarded what was left of the land speeders for themselves and pealed off towards camp. Secretly, he was glad Cody had done this. Let him come for Obi-Wan. He owed the man everything, it was time to start paying him back.


Ventress watched Skywalker stall for a few moments. She inclined her head, thinking that their plan of secrecy might have failed after all, but after only what seemed like a few seconds, the peace party began their march forward again.

"You could clean yourself off." Viszla had snarled at her when she emerged from the prison; as he was going in to retrieve the man-child that the Duchess so valued.

"I am not here for you, Vizsla. I am here for Kenobi." She had smiled almost cruelly, and had seen the fear in his eyes. "And Skywalker." How sweet it would be to see the Jedi's reaction to her like this, her pale hands stained red, the front of her clothes still wet with Kenobi's blood.

And how right she was. The arrogant, self-beseeching Jedi had come within eye range of them and his steps had faltered as he took her in. She could feel his rage, feed off of it and his Padawan's confusion. How incredible it would be to show Skywalker what was left of his master before she watched the life leave his eyes. What revenge that would be for all he had taken from her.

"Duchess Satine, how nice to see you again." Vizsla's voice grated on her nerves, and she took time to regard the woman that called herself the ruler of this planet. She was tall and thin, with serious features. She looked as equally stubborn as Kenobi, and she gave a slight laugh that they would work so well together. She supposed they would be reunited soon enough anyway. "Let's begin shall we."

She could hear the gagged man trying to yell something to his aunt, but he was a pathetic soldier. He was probably attempting to warn them about the soldiers that had them surrounded as they spoke. That were ready to shoot and kill both the Duchess and the Padawan at the drop of anything not going as planned; to maim Skywalker into submission. Maul had wanted him, an added cruelty to Kenobi to watch his Padawan die in front of him; and she had to admit the idea had been exceptional.

"I am not here to make deals, Vizsla." She answered slowly. "I am here for my people."

And his eyes glinted with a deep satisfaction. She looked down at her eyes, full in the knowledge that Kenobi's blood would not be the only spilt today.