Ok, here we are with another chapter!

I meant to have this up much sooner, but the hard drive which I thought I had stored all my chapters on? Well it wasn't the right hard drive. I have found the rest of the chapters (I really need to make sure I back up my files in more than one place), and so... we should be one a good schedule now.

This chapter is one of my favorites. It's simple and complex all at the same time. I hope you enjoy it.

Sarai

Chapter 11
Conversations with a Caged Beast

Sylir woke with a groan, rolling off of his stomach and onto his back. The first thing he noticed was that the world around him was dark. He closed and opened his eyes again—nothing. His acute sight was picking up no light, perhaps the fall had jarred the optic nerve, or he could still be unconscious and this was a dream.

"Sylir…" Cai's voice whispered out from the darkness, "Where are you?"

"Still on the floor," the Jedi muttered, focusing his hearing to pinpoint where she was.

"Good… don't move," she warned, "And… you might want to close your eyes."

It was a short warning. The Cathar was barely able to collapse his eyelids before light suddenly poured into the room. There was a whirring sound of electricity kicking in, more and more lights warming up, and then he thought he could hear generators running—he wasn't wrong. The entire floor slowly began descending… not as rapidly as they had fallen, but definitely at the pace of a grav-lift. Sylir opened his eyes slowly, letting his vision adjust.

They were in an eight meter square room… bright artificial lights in the ceiling, floor and walls… and made of dark, murky metal. The Jedi had no idea where they were going, and before he could ask. The room jerked to a halt and Cai walked over to a blank wall—which turned out to be a door. The wall opened outward and the Nautolan motioned for him to follow her.

Sylir stepped out of the lift only to find a bright golden droid aiming what could possibly have been the largest heavy cannon he had ever seen for his head. The droid was glossy and polished on it chassis and head, while its limbs were dull and covered with a grey paint in random areas… Sylir couldn't tell if it was a new droid or an old model that was well taken care of; which was probably what its owner wanted. The droid turned its red optical sensors upon the Jedi, the golden head reminding him of old republic assassin droids.

"Declaration: Hold sentients or I will open fire," the mechanical voice was almost gleeful at such a prospect; Sylir didn't want to know why.

Looking up at the droid, which stood an easy two meters and therefore towered over Sylir, the Jedi held his hands out passively, "Ok…"

"Oh stuff it Kay-ten," Cai muttered, coming out of the lift behind Sylir and looking at the droid with annoyance, "Who was the brilliant person that put you on sentry duty?"

"He's with me," a graveled and rough voice coughed from further down the hall. The voice announced the much later presence of an old crone—the human woman was well-on in years and her skin was mottled with spots of age. She had long silver hair, which hung down her back in a thick braid, and crafty looking brown eyes that reminded Sylir of a nexu. "Blasted droid knows he can move faster than I… and he delights in causing trouble."

"She may be old," Sylir warned himself, "But it doesn't affect her."

"Exclamation: Valla! You say such horrible lies about me!" The droid actually managed to look shocked, even though its shiny, golden head was encapable of showing emotion—a feat that both amazed and shocked the Jedi who was still under gunpoint, "Justification: I merely think that the world down here would be better served if we removed some of the useless biologicals that waste space." The droid turned from the old woman to look at Sylir, "Aside: no offense meant to the furry flesh sack."

"It's not an aside when they can hear it, Kay-ten, that's an apology…though a bad one," the old woman, Valla, smacked the droid on his gleaming rump—which was about as high up on the metallic entity that she could reach with her posture. "Now put down your weapon and go stand in the corner… if you couldn't see it already—our guests are injured."

The droid sulked off the far wall muttered, "Dejection: In a world of lawless beings… I never get to have any fun."

The old woman sighed and looked back to Sylir and Cai, "Sorry bout that… Kay's a handful."

"I can see that," the Jedi chucked. The action shook his chest and brought back to the forefront of his mind just how much pain he was actually in. Finally taking a second to look himself over, Sylir could see that he had about four metal barbs from the Barabel's weapon lodged in his chest, a nice gash on his right thigh, a long thin cut on his left arm, several minor cuts, bruises and burns… but other than the pain of exhaustion—he felt much better than he had after his last encounter with the hunters; The Cathar was willing to forget, for the moment, that he had been hunted into a corner, and, had Cai not done something miraculous, he would have been dead. Sylir didn't know what she had done… but he now owed his life to the Nautolan yet again.

"Cairee… I don't know what you've gotten yourself into this time," The old woman tucked her shoulder under Cai's left arm and helped the blue alien hobble down the dimly lit tunnel, "But last thing I remember is hearing you say that you wouldn't come back down here if your life depended on it."

"Guess I was exaggerating…" Cai groaned. The blaster wound in her thigh was bleeding, ripped open further than it should have been, thanks to their running.

Shaking her head slowly, Valla motioned to the droid over in the corner, "Ok you useless bucket of circuitry… light the way—and keep up with us this time."

The light from the droid's opticals flared with augmented intensity, and the mumbling erratic machine took point, leading their way into the dark… towards a place where Sylir was completely foreign. "Utteration: Stupid, aging, hobbling organic can't see three inches in front of her face…"

"Utteration isn't a word, Kay-ten," Valla offered with the air of helpful amusment in her voice.

"I don't see how you put up with that droid, Valla," Cai mumbled. Sylir could tell that fatigue and pain were beginning to get the best of her.

"Well… I built him, and he keeps me company," the old crone smiled, her crooked teeth rather yellow and some of the back ones were missing. "Kay's really the only friend I got nowadays."

They traveled along in silence; the echoing of their foot beats the only sound in the tunnel—save for the droid, whom Sylir had now decided could continue speaking even if shot out into vacuum—the droid would find a way. The Cathar could feel the air around them cool and become moist, which meant they were going further underground. His suspicion was confirmed when—all of a sudden—the path sloped downhill rapidly, winding to the left. It brought them to a widened corridor hollowed out of sheer rock.

The wide space was lit with dim, yellow glowrods—which provided Sylir with more than enough light to see. In the stone before them sat a bulky set of double blast doors which looked as if they could have repelled the Empire's best forces for at least a year… and probably still wouldn't have weakened. Whatever lay down here—it was a major operation.

Valla went over to a control panel to the left side of the doors, watching calmly as a speaker shot out. "This is Valla… I've got some old friends and the southern lift has dropped… no need to watch it until someone wants to go up."

"Copy that Valla… access code?"

"Geeze..." the old woman rubbed her head, "Kay, what's that code again?"

"Interjection: This should be exciting! The ancient organic's memory has failed her yet again!"

Suddenly a twin pair of quad-laser cannons whooshed out of the floor from both sides of the blast doors, training their heat-recognition sights on the trio of sentients. Valla whirled around to glare at the droid, "HK-one-ten… if you don't give me the damn access code, I'm going to make sure that my ghost comes back and corrupts your central processor!"

"Cynical Objection: I highly doubt that your threat will hold much weight once this is over with," but the droid hesitated… looking from Valla to the cannons with their red, bleeping, warning lights before muttering and walking towards the speaker, "Digression: but… on the off chance of it happening; Passcode: Tau Haitian Veshmora."

"Access verified… you are free to enter."

With a silent hiss of depressing hydraulics, all of three of the moral beings breathed a sigh of relief. They were ushered quickly through the hulking metallic doors by Valla, who didn't seem at all impressed by what lay beyond. Sylir would later come to notice that neither was Cai, but for the moment his mind was completely entranced by the sigh he saw. Here, at depths unknown, lay an entire world of which the galaxy had no knowledge. A sprawling cityscape met his view as far as he could look. Buildings as impressive as any one the surface rose up from the dull glowing depths of the city… possibly one hundred stories deep. Citizens and beings from dozens of worlds went to and fro… working, chatting, going home. The flashing lights of casinos, the pulsating flashes of corporate logos—none of which Sylir had knowledge of—and thousands of other sights bombarded the senses. There were relics from the Clone Wars down here, included a fully functional TechnoUnion ship which appeared to be pumping out working battle droids… only they were now labeled: Cleaning droids! A cheap and inexpensive means of humor and healthy living. This place was remarkable…

A hand suddenly appeared under his bottom jaw, pushing upwards with a soft but firm amount of force. "Close your mouth Jedi," Cai said smiling, "You'll catch something you don't want to."

"Don't scare the boy, Cairee…" Valla said, holding a hand out with a flourish, "So this is your first time eh? Well, m'boy! Welcome… to the underworld!"

[...]

The darkness is a strange thing… ever present… inescapable. There is no one safe from its gaze—its influence. It is behind the stars, under the sheets of your bed, inside the clothes on your flesh… even under the soles of your feet. Darkness is inside each and every living thing—whether they want it or not. It does not need to fester, does not need to grow.

They say a candle is all that you need to hold back the dark… heh, fools.

All it needs is time. With time… all things will return to the darkness. Candles melt into their own extinction, lights will short out… with time—even stars burn out. When all light has faded from the universe—darkness will remain. It will never vanish. What else in existence can make such a claim?

[...]

The halls were silent… like death. Ever since the arrival of their guest, things had grown somber. It was as if the very matter which made up these halls was aware of what they held. A terrifying prospect to be certain… Dain pondered these things as his lift brought him into the bowels of the Senate building—the place where criminals awaiting trial would be the most secure. Many people had objected, stating that if a person were to escape it would place the senators and countless civilians in danger. Those naysayers did not understand just how much effort was put into keeping people down here.

Stopping with a soft bump, the turbo-lift deposited Dain into a wide atrium. The Grand Master exited into a space, about two people wide, which was lined by an elite platoon of Senate Guards… the best of the best. They filed down both sides of this space, completely rigid and at attention. These guards were changed on the hour—an effort to maintain constant vigilance. They could ill afford for any of these guards to be tired or distracted. Dain walked the distance of the atrium in silence until he came to a large set of security doors. Passing a DNA and retinal scan… he was allowed access.

Dain entered into a smaller room. This room was sparse, there were no controls, no bars, and nothing could be accessed from this room. All the necessities were outside and could only be operated if an all clear was giving from the security monitors. Inside two Jedi Knights stood guard before a thin laser screen. The barrier was only a millimeter thick, but it was strong enough to repel beam drills and lightsaber blades… and the prisoner inside would not be able to get through. Inside the cell sat the dark clad figure of Virtra. She looked to be unconscious, sitting cross-legged with her head dropped to her chest. Hanging from the ceiling of the cell in cages, two Ysalamir chirped happily. The tiny mammals were found to be immune to the Force, canceling out all of the living energy around them—they, along with the drugs, were rendering the Sith from even smelling the darkside, much less touching its dark power.

Walking up to the cell, Dain peered in… watching the prisoner with a wary eye, "Has she said anything?"

"Not a word, Master Cross," the knight to his left said.

"Take your relief… I'll remain until your replacements arrive."

Both Knights bowed gratefully. Dain could tell they were uneasy just being in the same room with the Sith Lord. They waited until the security doors opened and then hurried from the high security cell with as much dignity as could be mustered. Dain didn't fault them—he could feel the uneasy tension rising up his spine as the thought now registered: he was alone in a room with Darth Virtra. No matter how many security measures were between him and this monster—he felt threatened.

"Well..." Virtra smiled. Her head still down, so most of her face was covered in shadow, but Dain could see the evil mirth in that expression. "If it isn't the little Jedi who put me in here? I'd say life has been rather kind to you since my departure… otherwise our positions would be reversed… or you'd be dead no?" Dain didn't answer… he just marveled. Somehow Virtra seemed to be completely coherent, even though he knew they had shot her full of drugs just within the last hour.

The moment Virtra's eyes shot open, the Sith was at the limit of her confinements, looking Dain directly in the eyes. The Jedi felt his soul grow cold. "So… you are unwilling to mutter even a few, small words behind these silent walls?" The Sith lord looked at him curiously.
"I hope I didn't upset your young friend. She appears to be very… fragile," Virtra mocked a look of concern, "I reckon the Jedi must be having one hell of a time if you've come here yourself..."

"Why now?" Dain asked suddenly, cutting off her serpentine taunts. "What game are you playing at? You and I both know you could have resisted arrest... you could have gotten away with ease." He was tired of listening to her melodic voice… afraid the words might get under his skin—or worse… that Virtra knew enough to actually shake his confidence. The Jedi Master didn't want to find out. It had been hard enough for hardened Jedi such as Yoda and Obi-wan to deal with Virtra in a confrontation… he didn't feel up to the task.

"Oh… but it would have been such a public relations nightmare if I had been killed without a trial," Virtra mocked, sounding oddly enough like Chancellor Wilhelm.

"Is that what this is about?" Dain looked aghast, "You want a trial."

"Justice for all…" the Sith smiled.

"You never gave any of your victims justice," Dain countered.

"Does it annoy you?" Virtra asked a quizzical look upon her face.

"What?" he was getting irritated, and Dain knew that wasn't a good thing. He tried to center himself, knowing Virtra was just playing a game. The Sith always had a game to play, and Virtra was a very old Sith… she had years and years to perfect her game, to develop skill. In comparison, Dain was an amateur when it came to verbal play; his best and only chance, at surviving this conversation with dignity, would be to ignore her and go for information.

"It must annoy you..." Virtra continued, "Knowing that I have single-handedly dispatched more of your kind than any other person in existence. I may have not touched them all... but you know... I was their undoing."

Dain hated the truth he could see in Virtra's eyes. The countless deaths… that cold certainty which guaranteed she could kill him. The Jedi felt as if he were looking fate directly in the eye, and it was not looking favorably back at him. Dain's stared into Virtra's—fire meeting ice in a clash for dominance…

"Do you feel it... anger boiling beneath your flesh? The blood burns... You wish you could kill me. You want to kill me… don't you Dain?" Her words rang through his head like a low tone echoing in a dark fog.

"You'll be dead by hands other than my own," he growled, voice low in his chest. "I don't have to wish for anything. Your crimes will be punished, and I will make certain you are here to receive that punishment."

Virtra smirked, watching the Jedi master struggle to maintain composure, "You know the truth. You know I'm going to be your downfall, don't you?" She laughed coldly. Batting away his words as if they were nothing, Virtra was a master… she ignored everything he had said, pressing Dain's irritation further.

Her eyes leveled him, cold and the color of blood. "You are the bastard heir of a dead legacy, Dain Cross... going down forever in the annuals of history as the Jedi's greatest failure. That's your worst nightmare isn't it? That's what you dream at night... waking you in a cold sweat!" She spat the words with contempt, "I can smell it on you. The fear… it's disgusting."

She stopped and breathed deeply through her nostrils, "The fear... its stench is undeniable."

"You know nothing!" Dain's nostrils flared as he turned away from the dark visage before him. He wasn't winning… he was looking more and more like a fool the longer he continued this conversation.

Virtra smiled a motherly smile, but it was a warped and wicked form of the expression, "Poor Dain... you feel... so very much alone. The pitied legend, forced to lead a league of amateurs. You know it is only a matter of time. The darkness will surround everything, and not you, nor any Jedi, will keep this galaxy from drowning in its own blood. All alone! To ashes and dust... all falls down eventually. You cannot fight it. Your dreams will lie in rubble at your feet, waiting until you to fall to join them… and you will fall… like all the Jedi before you."

Dain whirled and looked at her with a composed face, using the Force as his only hinge point from losing control, "And you? You think that you can somehow escape what you've gotten yourself into? Here is what I think... I think this is the last ditch effort of a crazed woman… trying to save her own pathetic life." He looked down at his chronometer, noticing that the next Jedi team should be here any minute… just a matter of—

"TIME!" Virtra bellowed, pointing a menacing finger towards Dain. The Jedi felt an electric jolt of fear course through his body. The dark and imperious gaze of Virtra was not that of a frightened woman. The booming announcement shook the walls, making each whispered word that came after it as loud as a hyperspace jump. "Waits for you.., Dain. It longs for your blood. But for me? Time is a different thing entirely. For me... time is endless."

Shaking his head, Dain stood before the doors as they opened, "Time… sooner or later finds us all, Virtra… even you." He walked past the two Knights who came to replace him, giving them words of encouragement before turning to the security monitor, "Shoot her again… I don't want to take any risks. Drugs come on the half hour now."

If they killed her… well then, it wouldn't be such a bad thing. Dain walked toward the turbo-lift, praying that such an accident might happen. Anything would be better than this cold chill which seemed to be lodged in his spine—Virtra couldn't escape; Dain knew this, but, as he looked back through the closing security doors, the Sith lord's cold smirk did nothing to assure his waning confidence.

[...]

"You know… I'd had my fill of medical droids yesterday," Sylir muttered, watching as the droid stitched up the cut in his leg with a surgical detachment that only an EmDee could possess.

There was a stifled cry from Cai as she tried to ignore the pain from her blaster wound being cauterized fully, "You think I asked for this?"

Sylir shook his head, "No… but we're lucky to be alive. It would have been nice to know that the floor opened."

"It's nice to know that you're willing to take a blaster bolt to keep me alive," Cai replied softly.

The Jedi master bristled. He had been willing… not only to take a blaster bolt, or be stabbed… but he had been willing to die to keep this woman alive. True he'd been willing to die for L'loria, and he would have fought hard to keep Pella and her padawan live… but he'd failed all of them; however, Sylir had actually bargained and resigned to death if it meant that Cai would live. The thought shook several strong foundations he'd set up for himself… and he didn't want to question them at the moment, "I would have done the same for anyone." The reply was just what a Jedi Council member would have said.

"Oh…" the Nautolan's voice fell a bit, "Still… it's nice. No one's ever done that before."

"For someone such as you it would be an honor," Sylir said politely, much like the heroes of old literature—the same kind that An'ya had told him to read in order to pass the time. "But just what kind of person is she?" Sylir questioned himself. The truth was: he didn't know much about Cai… they didn't know very much about each other. They'd been thrown together for this horror filled flight… and who knew if either of them would make it out alive. Just an hour ago they had both been expecting death. Something told Sylir that he should savor each moment that he had—perhaps it was a good lesson: don't take life for granted. The thought brought a weak smile to his face. How many Jedi claimed to treasure life… but didn't truly? There was a difference to respecting life and treasuring it.

"You're free to go." The mechanical droid voice told Sylir that he was finished.

"I'll just wait here for her," the Jedi motioned towards Cai.

"I'm afraid you cannot. We have other patients whom you cut in front of. We are now backlogged and we do not have the room."

Nodding in agreement, Sylir told Cai he would be waiting for her outside. She had lost a large amount of blood and her system had become near dehydrated from the exertion and stress… she would probably be a few more minutes before the droids would clear her—much to the trader's annoyance.

Wearily the Jedi master exited the Med Center only to see that Valla and her droid were still waiting for him. "Ah! Jedi! How're you?"

"I'm doing better… Cai should be out shortly."

The tottering old woman smiled brightly, "Aye… she's a good girl. A bit head strong, but she's got a good heart. Shame she's had such a rough upbringing… I thought it would make her a bit off—but she seems to be doing well."

"Um…" Sylir didn't quite know how to take it.

"Don't worry, Jedi," Valla elbowed him in the ribs, "You just keep an eye on her and she'll be fine."

Nodding politely, Sylir took Valla's hand and shook it, "I don't believe we have been properly introduced. My name is Sylir. It would be preferable with our current situation if you were to keep my title unspoken."

Raising a wary eyebrow the old woman seemed to get the idea, "Very well… Sylir. You can call me Valla… Valla Sloan. I've been a resident of the Underworld for as long as I can remember. My parents moved down here to escape something or another… that's how many people ended up here: refugees, criminals or orphans. We make a good life down here. There ain't anyone down here that's too terribly bad… they just couldn't make it with the rules up there and so now we've got a life down here. Everyone gets by…"

She stuck her thumb behind her, "And that's HK-110. I built him about five years ago… found the blueprints in an old trash bin and thought they looked nice. The program had an interesting personality and I do mean that. Most people think droids are just machines, but this one here has a mind of his own—has had since I activated him. He went and welded the shut off switch too… so now he can't be made to shut up."

"Observation: a good combatant always makes sure to eliminate weaknesses, crone," the droid let out a garbled wobble of sounds that mimicked a creepy laugh, "Suggestion: perhaps you should let me finally get rid of yours?"

"You know if you kill me Kay… you'll be terribly bored."

The droid started mumbling to itself, but its violent tendencies seemed to have subsided at her words. Sylir looked at the droid with caution, "He seems a bit…"

"Crazy?" Valla laughed, "He's about ten levels of a sky rise worse than that… but he's a good friend, and he helps me remember things. We have a working relationship: I fix him when he gets into a spot that he can't handle… and he makes sure my failing eyes don't drop me off a cliff."

"Exasperation: another of your frailties."

"And he's funny…" the old woman chortled, giving Sylir a wink.

"Objection: I am no such thing! I've been upgraded and remodeled until I am far superior to any organic. Humor was the first thing to go!"

Sylir couldn't help chuckle, which sent the droid into a fit of muttering. The Jedi could understand why, in a warped way, someone would keep this droid around. If it actually posed no threat—HK-110 would be a decent companion, and in this world… it would no doubt serve to keep an elderly woman like Valla safe. While he may believe that this world had laws, and that people made their way, he was not foolish enough to think that this Underworld did not have dangers. Valla wouldn't have a droid like HK if there weren't.

"You aren't talking about me are you?" Cai's voice was haggard; she was understandably tired, and as she exited the building she looked the part.

"Nothing bad I assure you…"

"Yes… nothing bad according to you, could mean that you said I looked like a rancor had attempted to devour me," Cai looked at Sylir with a woeful despair.

"Nothing about you came up," Valla cackled, "It so happens the Jedi is more into me than he is you!" With a shrill laugh Valla nearly tackled Cai in a big hug around her waist, "I missed you Cairee… ever since you left it's been miserable down here. Why I can remember you when you were just a teenager… you had me worried sick and now we're back to old times."

"Disgust: Organics and their memories… they never know how to save the good ones."

Sylir looked from the droid to the women and then decided that he was very much a stranger in a strange land… but if he was going to get to know his companion—perhaps seeing what she was like in a different life would be enlightening. They discussed their next course of action—which Cai stated should be sleep. She was exhausted and a bit shaken… the Jedi was willing to wager that she had not truly understood how dangerous his enemies were until today. Yes, Cai had been trying to keep him off the radar, but she had probably thought him inept or that he had exaggerated his encounter. Now? Now Cai looked as if she wanted nothing more than to forget everything that had happened. Sylir couldn't blame her in the least.

Of course their attempt to get a hotel was overruled by Valla. The old woman insisted they come and join her at her house… which she insisted was much to large and empty for an old woman and a droid—to which HK-110 had many colorful things to add. In the end the Jedi and the trader were forced to give in, and Valla led them through the streets of the Underworld until they were far away from their attackers and the threat of the outside.

[...]

Abregado's night was silent…

As Allara looked out on the city from the balcony, the Toran'ak leader could tell that people were beginning to see the affects of her movement. That would have to be rectified. Theirs was to be a silent operation and that last move… that had been a bit stupid. Luckily she had been able to rig a power core explosion, and it had destroyed the entire security compound. Still, people were whispering about bounty hunters—that much was fine. So long as they didn't know she was hunting Jedi… not just yet.

Things were slowly falling into place. They had some minor injuries and one casualty… well, two if you count the execution of Tythus. Still, for the price of three Jedi… they were still one up. Energy had surged into her group from today's experience. Not only had they easily killed two Jedi and taken out a security office… but they had hunted down that Cathar until he was cornered. They knew the Jedi had given up, and they were not as angry about his escape—but Allara knew that he had to be put down, and quickly. If the Jedi managed to escape, he could alert the entire order to their actions. She didn't know if she wanted that.

It would make things interesting, that much was certain—but hunting Jedi would be more difficult. Still, on the other hand, the Jedi Order would be afraid; fearful people were easily cornered… they made mistakes. She would have think on this matter more.

"We have something we need to talk about," Lovast said quietly, coming out to lean on the balcony next to her. The soldier was always quite efficient, and Allara was thankful for his help… even if his attentions were unwanted. She took them in stride, knowing that it made him a better worker because of it.

"Yes?"

"Delta never reported in… they didn't make it to Ansion." Lovast implied the meaning which Allara had already grasped.

"So they were killed by either the Jedi or the Sith?"

"The Jedi…" Lovast answered, "They just made a Holonet announcement. Darth Bicara is dead, and her slayer has returned… safe and sound. Apparently Master Kuro is a target worth pursuing."

Allara chewed on the inside of her jaw, thinking about it, "Perhaps… we will have to finish here before I make any decision on our next target. Kuro is a Jedi of the old times; she took down that Sith single handed, which means she won't be an easy target."

"And this Jedi is?" Lovast questioned.

"The Cathar is… resourceful, but if you are right... i we cannot take him down, then we cannot hope to go after his master." Allara's eyes sparkled with satisfaction as her announcement was absorbed.

"Kuro trained the Cathar?"

"Yes, she did… consider this a preliminary for a more difficult task. The Cathar Jedi is not only a Council member, but he's a second generation… he's the perfect training exercise. If we can bring him down," Allara smiled, "We'll be ready to take down the entire order when the time comes."

[...]

"Ah… home sweet home…" Valla muttered, settling herself into a worn and plushy chair. They had all collapsed, save for HK-110, the moment they entered the large apartment.

Valla lived in what would be considered a nice neighborhood, even by surface standards. Sylir was impressed that such amenities existed down her, and he was certain that his initial judgment of the Underworld had been rash. True, it had dangers—many of which Valla had pointed out; but the citizens down her all respected the law… and they made sure to enforce it personally. The greatest danger any member of the Underworld had to face… was the penalty for breaking their own law.

"Disagreement: relaxation is not a form of enjoyment, organics, it is a form of weakness."

"Forgive us, HK," Sylir said from his position on the floor, "But we are not capable of running on unlimited power cells."

"Let him complain, he likes it," Valla said, getting into a position where she could talk and be comfortable, "It's the way he relaxes… don't try to understand, just ignore him and let him be."

"I still can't believe you built that thing, Valla," Cai looked the droid up and down, "How much did it cost you?"

"More than you make on a single load of cargo…" Valla winced at the thought, "But enough about idle formalities. What are you two running from?"

Sylir sat up and looked at Cai, his eyes imploring her for some form of communication. He didn't know if they could trust this Valla Sloan, or if Cai wanted this mother figure to be brought into their current trouble. When Cai looked at him, the Jedi could tell that she was having the same worries. "We aren't certain you should be involved," Sylir said tentatively.

"Poppycock! I'm already involved having brought you into the Underworld… if these people follow you it'll be on my head. I'll need to alert the governing council and then there'll be bulletins to make…"

"You won't have to do that," Sylir interrupted, "I'm certain my pursuers won't follow us down here."

"Why's that?" Cai and Valla both asked with confusion.

With a sigh, he held out both hands, "Because I'm stuck down here… I can't get away and they are monitoring communications. They know that if I want to escape—I'll have to go back up to the surface sometime. They'll find out where that is… and they'll be waiting. They know it's just a matter of time. The longer we stay down here, the better prepared those hunters will be."

"You have a point," Valla muttered, "We only have short range communications for down here… we don't send transmissions to the outside. It's how we stay hidden," the old woman eyed the Jedi warily, "What did you do to get such a bounty put on your head."

"That's just the thing, Valla," Cai answered, "I don't think they are bounty hunters… well some of them could be, but I don't think they are hunting Sylir for money. This is just too personal… why lure other Jedi here if it was just a bounty?"

"A bounty on all Jedi perhaps?" Valla supplied.

Sylir shook his head, "I doubt that… we'd have had other attacks on different Jedi teams. This seems to be isolated. I would have been bailed out of here immediately by the Jedi council if something like this were happening elsewhere."

"You have a mighty big problem my boy…"

Cai shuddered, "You have no idea, Valla… I thought he was in trouble—but that red armored Mandalorian… she's deadly, and she has it in for Sylir."

Sylir had to agree. This was personal, though probably not for the same reasons. The Red commando was out to kill Jedi—with all too great of efficiency. Sylir felt that the warrior's reason was somewhere obvious… but beyond his grasp all the same. He would probably never know. Right now the Cathar had one obvious goal: "We need to get off planet. I have to alert the Jedi Council, and we cannot afford to waste time. Three Jedi are already dead… I can't have anymore lives on my hands."

Valla nodded, "We still have that entrance under the Trader's Guild… Cai, do you think you could contact your crew?"

The blue Nautolan paused, looking up at the ceiling, "If you could get me to the surface… I can definitely get them to head for the ship. They'll know how to sneak in."

"Then later tonight, Cai, after you get some rest, you'll go up with Kay… and you'll set up plans for them to meet you at your ship in the morning. Hopefully your hunters won't have had time to put all of our entrances under watch."