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Pix was not, by any stretch of the imagination, superstitious. She preferred letting her mind deal with what the Force couldn't. So, even though the Force wasn't telling her that she was in danger, three terror attack in the past couple of days, all around the area she was living, gave her a pretty good idea of what was going on. Every day, she turned on the news, watching it intently while holding a small pad of flimsiplast. The pad had a map of the city, which she marked with red x's where the bombings took place. She was looking for patterns, trying to see where this strange attacker was striking from. After all, she may be in exile, but she was still a Jedi. If she could stop these attacks, she would without hesitation.

The attacks seemed to all happen in her sector of the city. Twice, they'd happened within fifty yards of where she'd been staying. The carnage had been terrible. Not worse than the Clone Wars, but then it had been mostly soldiers who'd died. They expected, like she did. Here, civilians would be blown apart, scattered across the street while friends and family looked on. For Pix, nothing angered her more than some scumbag who targeted civilians.

Pix noticed that a pattern was slowly forming around the terror sites, and that they all seemed to be centered on the more crowded apartment and hotel complexes, but one area in particular had never been hit. The 13th Building Center, where the majority of the cheaper and less savory motels were nestled. Pix guessed that that's where she'd find her terrorist. Now, all she was doing was waiting, watching the local holonet for news on another terror attack. As soon as she heard any type of commotion, she would rush to that sector, trying to intercept anyone she sensed being suspicious. Not the best plan she'd ever come up with, but it was the best she had at the moment.

"There," she said to herself as a warning flashed over the news. A warehouse had been destroyed, leaving dozens dead and three wounded. The carnage and high death toll had been caused by the addition of tibanna gas, a highly volatile chemical used with capital ship weapons.

Immediately, Pix grabbed her lightsaber from her belt, strapping it to the belt she had around her mini skirt. She than put on a rough brown poncho over her top, in order to conceal said lightsaber from any wandering eyes. Looking around the room, she took a deep breath, and left.

Somehow, just walking through the streets, even disguised had become something close to terrifying for her. It was even worse with her saber so close to her. Pix always felt like someone was watching her, like someone knew what she was. Still, she lowered her face, and plunged into the busy streets, which were clogged with people fleeing the sector where the explosion had occurred. Chandrilian police had already begun blocking the streets to the sector where the warehouse was off, but Pix wasn't going there. She was going to the 13th Building sector, to wait for the terrorist. Then, she'd have a few words with him about respect for human life.


Jenna's heart was racing now. The explosion had been bigger than she'd expected, blowing the entire warehouse sky high, and even heavily damaging buildings along the whole block. Jenna herself had nearly been caught in it. She'd never meant for it to be so enormous, but that was just what those mercenaries wanted.

Two days into her little campaign, Jenna had managed to detonate explosives at several buildings without killing any people. A few injuries, some serious, but she'd been careful to detonate when people traffic was at its lowest. Then, she'd received a call one night on her comlink. It'd been Gerik.

"What part of mass chaos don't you understand?" He'd said with a dangerously low voice.

"I'm doing the best I can." She'd answered quickly. "I've hit several targets already and am-."

"Do you really think we're interested in destroyed buildings?" He's interrupted angrily. "We want bodies. Lots of bodies. And if you can't make them, then we will. Out of orphans." He'd hung up, leaving her comlink crackling in the silence. She'd looked at the thing angrily, hand shaking she was gripping it so hard. That night, she'd gone into her stores of chemicals she had left over from her university days, and found a small sample of tibanna gas and combining it with the rest of the explosive she'd made. The results had been devastating and now, Jenna suddenly realized that she was a murderer. Strange how it had only just crossed her mind.

As she turned the corner going back to the motel she'd rented, she adjusted the hood of her grey sweatshirt, trying to keep her face concealed. Even then, she took carefully selected detours in order to throw off anyone who was following her. It didn't work.

"Hey you!" a voice from behind her yelled. "Stop!" Jenna turned, instinctively raising her hands in surrender.

"Can I help you officers?" She asked in a controlled voice that surprised her.

"Yeah." One of them said drawing a blaster from his belt. "You can tell us what you're doing running through the alleys during an emergency situation? You know there was a terror attack, right?"

"Yes," Jenna said nodding as innocently as possible. "I'm going there now. My grandma lives in that area." Even to her won ears, the excuse sounded terrible.

"Man," she thought, "Why doesn't security have anything better to do during an emergency?"

"Your grandma, huh." One of them said sarcastically. "Like we've never heard that before. Come on, your coming with us." His companion, however, did something strange then.

"I think we should let her go." He said a little distantly. The guard who was trying to arrest her turned, looking at his companion in disbelief.

"What did you say?"

"We should let her go." The guard repeated. "She isn't carrying anything explosive, or it would have shown up on the checkpoint scanners. And we have more important stuff to worry about right now." The guard looked at his companion for a second and then nodded, a thoughtful look on his face.

"All right, get out of here." He said to Jenna holstering his weapon. "We've got better stuff to do." They walked away, talking in low whispers amongst themselves. Jenna nervously brushed a strand of red hair out of her face, and breathed a sigh of relief. She turned now, running as quickly as she could through the streets, eyes flashing, looking for threats in the many side alleys. Finally, she came to the street her apartment was on.

She was already half way down the street before a feeling of unease began to stir in her stomach. A bad feeling. Three seconds later, she felt cold steel being pressed against the back of her neck.

"Move and you die, murderer." A feminine voice said from behind her. "Now, move across the street, and into that alleyway." Jenna obeyed, knowing that if she so much as twitched, she was dead. Carefully and nonchalantly, they walked across the street and into one of the twisting side alleyways. Once they were deep enough into the labyrinth of alleyways and buildings, a strong arm grabbed Jenna's shoulder and spun her around while pushing her away. A hissing sound sounded as Jenna looked up, and saw one of the most recognizable weapons the galaxy had ever seen.

A vibrant blue lightsaber. The energy beam wavered just inches from her nose. It was held by a dark skinned girl in a long violet poncho. Her hair was tied back intricately and her face was fierce yet, not angry. Her eyes narrowed as she reached forward and pulled Jenna's hood back, revealing her face.

"Who are you?" the Jedi asked. "And why are you making these attacks?" Jenna looked into the Jedi's eyes, weighing the chances she had of lying. They were slim.

"I did what I had too." She answered, desperately hoping the Jedi would realize what she was saying, trying to get her to understand that she wasn't doing this by her own will, that she was being forced to. If the Jedi figured out her situation, maybe she could help. A second later, her hopes were dashed as a blast of pure energy hit the young Jedi from behind. For a moment, her features were illuminated, as if the sun were focusing its light on her fierce face, then she fell over, crumpled in a heap. Gerik and his comrades stepped out from the shadows. Radlir rose up from the top of one of the houses, a sniper rifle in his hands.

"Good work." Gerik said to him from below. Turning to the twins, he muttered something about first aid, and the twins immediately set about trying to patch up the hole in the Jedi's back.

"Were you following me?" Jenna asked Gerik, still looking in disbelief at the Jedi. Gerik nodded.

"You were the bait after all." He said, turning to help the twins drag the young girl's body towards a waiting landspeeder parked by the street.

"Wait!" Jenna called after him. "What about the kids? Where are they?" Gerik and the twins looked at each other, laughing slightly.

"According to the picture," Gerik said drawing a datapad from his pocket and comparing it to the wounded Jedi. "This isn't our target. We still have to find two more, which means we need you a little while longer."

"We had a deal!" Jenna shouted angrily. For a second, Gerik looked like he seriously might change his mind, but then shook his head.

"We still have the kids." The man warned as they loaded the girl into their landspeeder. "If you want to risk their lives, then by all means, don't listen to us. If you want them back, come to the spaceport tomorrow. We'll be going on a little field trip and you're coming with us." With that, Gerik shoved the rest of the girl's body into the speeder, and jumped in as it drove away, leaving Jenna to walk back home, hating herself almost more than her enemies.


Pix awoke several hours later, bound and gagged in a chair of a windowless room. Her back was sore, but patched up skillfuly with bandages and an application of bacta. Six men, she assumed the men who ambushed her. There was a tall scared man with long curly hair that fell over his face, who was sitting near the door, fiddling with a hunting knife, a big man whose scar less face and body either meant he was the newest, or the best fighter of the group, and a pair of twins with short shock blond hair and gaunt faces. The final two, she was surprised to see, were clones, both of whom were talking quietly to each other. They turned as they realized she was awake, faces concealed by clone armor.

"She's awake." One clone said quietly. Each of the men looked up from whatever they'd been doing and gazed at her. The big man stepped forward, motioning for the twins to follow him. The man with the hunting knife looked at them for a second, and then left, walking briskly from the room, followed by the clones.

"Good evening," the man said pleasantly, "My name is Gerik. I believe that you and I can help each other, assuming we both cooperate."

"Bite me!" She said gathering a wad of spit and shooting it at his face. "I don't work with scum."

"That's a sham." He said calmly. He wiped the spit from his face with his sleeve. "All I wanted was a little information you know."

"Well I'm not talking." Pix answered defiantly. Knowing what was coming next, she sunk into a Jedi meditation designed to help Jedi prevent pain. She felt herself float away from her body, and everything, from the roughness of the wood, to the cool air she felt as her body took a deep breath, felt distant and unreal.

"I know what you're trying." Gerik said, drawing a trench knife from his belt. He placed his hands into the loop of the handle, so the blade ran from the top of his pointer finger, four inches past his pinky. "It won't work." He gestured at the twins, who advanced on her, drawing what looked like long slender pins and knives from their own belts.

"These two," Gerik continued, "Served under the Separatists for a while. They were assassins and interrogators under Dooku. Being a former Jedi, he knew all the little ways you Jedi manage to block out pain. Luckily, he also knew ways to circumnavigate these defenses, and taught it to his interrogators." One of the twins knelt next to her, feeling along her neck with his clammy fingers. Pix's sudden urge to turn and deck the slimeball was immediately overtaken by what could only be described as the most indescribable pain she'd ever felt.

She felt her concentration slip, and she fell to earth, mind back in her body and feeling the full effects of the pain. The needle in her neck was causing it somehow, and to her, it was as if the skin on her body were being pulled back by a rusty, dull knife. The other twin drew another pin, and it too was almost gently slid into place, this time into the back of her head. It didn't kill her. As far as she could tell, it had barely bled, but whatever it hit caused Pix to scream in such agony, she felt as though she were out of breath in seconds. A second later, another pin, then another, then another.

"The twins are able to do many things with these needles." Gerik said casually. "They're tipped with several types of poisons and hallucinogens, each of which can affect your nerve system in a different way. What do you want us to do next? Make it so you feel you can't get enough air? I always love the look of panic on their face when they gape, and nothing happens." Another pin, and suddenly, Pax truly felt she couldn't breathe.

"It's only a simulation." She thought desperately, but that didn't stop her rising panic as her throat began to burn.

"All this unpleasantness." Gerik said politely, as though he were just talking to a friend rather than a young girl being tortured. "It's so unnecessary. All I want is for you to tell me one thing." He knelt down in front of her, face close. Another pin and Pix felt an icy chill going through her, as though every part of her were frostbitten.

"Tell me everything you know about Semreh Kaasen." She looked up at him, and spat one more time. He stood up, still calmly looking at her with only mild interest.

"Very well." He said turning to the twins. "You have two hours. Let's see if you can break your record." Pix watched him go, before another pin struck her, causing her to scream as her skin caught fire.

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