Hyperspace: IV – part two


HK-47

Start-up System Check
Motoring Functions Online
Memory Core Function... Unable To Access

Audio Sensors ... Online
Optical Sensors ... Online
Tactile Sensors ... Online
Olfactory Sensors ... Online
Gustatory Sensors ... Not Installed

Shielding Function ... Online
Assassination Protocols … Restricted Access

Combat Mode … Owner Command Required

Scanning External Environment…

Location: Ebon Hawk Rear Starboard Section

3 Organic Meatbags, 1 Droid in Targeting Area

Identification – Jen Sahara (Current Owner), Mission Vao, Carth Onasi, T3-M4

Input – Carth Onasi to Jen Sahara: "Why are you powering that thing on? We need Teethree for this, not that bloodthirsty machine!"
Voice stress analysis: Hostile

Sensor Scan:

Target: T3-M4
…Physical Analysis: T3 Model series, detected A303 security modification
…Location: Interfaced with primary engineering control panel of the Ebon Hawk
…Objective: Unknown
Internal Conclusion: T3-M4 is modifying the ship
Primary Objective: Protect Master (Jen Sahara)
New Objective Accepted: Investigate to ensure no threat to Master (Jen Sahara)

Input – Jen Sahara to Carth Onasi: "HK's… useful. Teethree's having some difficulty changing the ship's signature, and HK has surprisingly hidden talents."

Interrupt: Conclusion: T3-M4 is acting under orders of current master (Jen Sahara)
Potential threat dismissed
Objective Complete

Input – Carth Onasi to Jen Sahara: "No way, sister, that carbon scored scrap pile can stay shut down. He blew up the Ebon Hawk!"

Output: "Conjecture: I disabled the ship without loss of life or major injury to allow the master to escape without notice. The Ebon Hawk sustained no serious damage. Retort: One would think a certified pilot could acknowledge the difference, organic meatbag or not."

Input – Jen Sahara: "HK, please don't talk about that!"
Voice stress analysis: Ashamed

Hidden Subroutine Initiated: Order From Master: Do not verbalize subject of Ebon Hawk disablement

Output: "Statement: As you wish, master."

Input – Carth Onasi (muttered): "I don't believe this."

Input – Mission Vao: "What exactly is a ship's signature anyway?"

Output: "Explanation: A vessel's signature is a unique electronic code appended to every transmission. It is widely used as a means of tracking spacecraft, and considered highly illegal to modify."

Input – Carth Onasi to Mission Vao: "It goes against the grain to attempt this, but the Sith know what ship we have. I'm dead set against going to Korriban… but if we have to, then let's make damn sure they don't recognize us on arrival."

Input – Jen Sahara to Carth Onasi: "And don't forget, Carth, that this ship has quite the history when it belonged to Davik Kang. I'd rather not get caught up in any of his past… dealings."

Input – Jen Sahara to T3-M4: "Teethree, do you think you can do it?"

Input – T3-M4 to Jen Sahara (Astromech Designated Communication Language): "Attempting to access Ebon Hawk's core hardware routines. Manufacturer authorisation required to flash firmware and recalculate vessel signature. Initiating brute force hack routines. Unknown time until completion."

Input – Mission Vao: "The lil' fellow's trying, but not sure if he can do it yet."

Input – Jen Sahara to Mission Vao: "How well do you understand droid, Mission?"

Input – Mission Vao to Jen Sahara: "A little, I picked up the basics on Taris. The Beks always had a couple of beaten up utility droids around the base, y'know, and I used to tinker on the security system with their help. Although usually they'd end up fixing whatever I broke."

Input – T3-M4 (Astromech Designated Communication Language): "0.001% of brute force routines completed."

Input: Mission Vao: "He's gonna be awhile."

Output: "Observation: With that sort of accuracy, perhaps you should consider a career as a Public HoloNet Journalist."

Input – Jen Sahara: "HK, I have some questions for you. What was the language you used earlier? On Rii'shn, before we entered the warehouse?"

Internal Diagnostic – Language not found
Scanning...
Error #1E001FFF
Memory Access Violation
…Attempted Access to Locked Memory Core Files
Sequence Failed
Return to Main

Output: "Response: I am... unsure, Master. I have been experiencing certain... errors in programming since the restraining bolt was removed back in Yuka Laka's store. Speculation: It could be related to this."

Input - Jen Sahara: "Oh, that's just great. Well, how did you know I could understand it?"

Output: "Response: I do not know, Master."

Interrupt:
…Quick Self Diagnostic Routine Activated
Result: No Errors Detected
...Self Diagnostic Scheduled
Return to Main

Input – Carth Onasi: "Sounds like there's a lot of things you don't know, you worn out bucket of bolts."

Voice stress analysis: Annoyed

Output: "Objection: Worn out?! Listen, you talentless organic meatbag... one word from my master and I will pull you apart limb from useless limb!"

Input – Carth Onasi to Jen Sahara: "Turn this thing off, Jen. Or I'll jettison him out the airlock. I'm serious."

Visual / Audio Tracking: Carth Onasi leaving targeting area

Input – Mission Vao: "Well, at least we know you can't harm anything unless Jen tells you to."

Output: "Statement: I cannot engage in hostilities without a command from my master. Unless my master is unable to properly protect herself."

Input – Mission Vao: "You mean, if meek Jen ever shows up again?"

Input – Jen Sahara: "Meek Jen? Mission, I- argh!"
Voice stress analysis: Exasperated

Output: "Clarification: My primary function is to protect my master, even if it is from herself. Observation: Her fragile meatbag shell has suffered numerous leaks in recent times."

Input – Jen Sahara: "Oh for frell's sake – HK, I don't think meatbag is actually a word,"

Output: "Expletive: Damn it, master, I am an assassination droid... not a dictionary!"

Input – Mission Vao: "Assassination droid?"
Voice Stress Analysis: Alarmed

Output: "Extrapolation: It is sufficient to say that I am a fully capable translator and cultural analyst, and I am also proficient in personal combat. I am a loyal droid willing to serve my master, organic meatbag or not."

Input – Mission Vao to Jen Sahara: "I've never heard a droid insult their master the way HK does. It's creepy."

Input: Jen Sahara: "Not to mention impolite."
Voice Stress Analysis: Amused

Output: "Retraction: Did I say that out loud? I apologize, master. While you are a meatbag, I suppose I should not call you such."

Input – Mission Vao: "Suppose? Sheesh, you could be a little more convincing y'know."

Input – Jen Sahara: "I agree. No more meatbag calling, HK."

Hidden subroutine initiated: Order From Master: Do not address Master as meatbag

Output: "Appeasement: Yes, master. Of course, master."

Input – Mission Vao: "I'm with Carth on this, Jen. I don't think having HK around is a good idea. You should turn him off."

Audio / Visual Tracking: Mission Vao leaving targeting area

Auditory Input: Sigh
…Source: Jen Sahara

Input: Jen Sahara: "HK, pull up the current newsfeeds from the Core worlds. Anything of interest from Coruscant, or anywhere we've been. And… just be quiet."

Master Defined Sub-Routine Initiated: Locate and Display Newsfeeds that Match Defined Parameters
…Interfacing with Communications Panel: Initiated
…Scanning Available Frequencies: Initiated
…Match Found: Public Holo-Feed: Intergalactic Republic News: Channel 47E
…Streaming Holo-Feed on Console: Initiated
Return to Main

Input – Holo-Feed Distribution from Intergalactic Republic News: Channel 47E:

Audio/Visual Tracking: Czerka Representative Marlani Gerrant, Senior Marketing Overseer: Source – Holo-feed:
"…ship that exploded in the docking bay in Manaan, destroying our facilities. Luckily there have only been reports of minor injuries to some ground crew…"

Audio / Visual Tracking: Canderous Ordo entering targeting area

Audio/Visual Tracking: Czerka Representative Marlani Gerrant, Senior Marketing Overseer: Source – Holo-feed:
"…been identified as an Exchange vehicle using a forged Czerka signature to gain clearance. To this end, we are announcing trade sanctions against the Exchange, and introducing an increase of armed escorts to some of our outposts."

Audio/Visual Tracking: Exchange Representative Dillan Starsonn, PR Agent to Outer Rim Worlds: Source – Holo-feed:
"We are a legitimate organization of independent traders. We fully refute the accusations labelled at us by Czerka Corporation. We have reports of a hurried exit by a Czerka vehicle after an unprovoked attack on one of our establishments on Rii'shn. Therefore we must respond to any increase in armed presence by Czerka Corporation in kind."

Input – Canderous Ordo to Jen Sahara: "I can't think that Czerka would want to face off against the Exchange. Or vice versa. Y'know, it almost sounds like someone very cleverly put the two of them at odds. You went to Rii'shn before, didn't you?"
Voice Stress Analysis: Speculative

Input - Jen Sahara: "HK-"
Voice Stress Analysis: Warning

Output: "Query: Is this going to be another discussion on foreseeable consequences, master?"

Auditory Input: Angry Sigh
…Source: Jen Sahara

Input – Jen Sahara: "HK, power down."

Output: "Statement: As you desire, master. Signing off."

Shutdown routines initiated

xXx

Canderous Ordo

We were headed to Korriban, and that sat well with me. I had no patience for the Sith and their little training school, but Korriban did have an underbelly of trade and crime and opportunities that would certainly keep my life interesting… unless I stayed with Revan. I still hadn't decided.

She wasn't what she once was, that was certain. If Revan had been a Mando'ade, then nothing in the galaxy would have stopped us. And now, maybe she was just a broken echo of former glory. I needed to know.

She'd been avoiding me since we left Manaan, hanging around that Cathar and the storeroom that doubled as a medbay. I'd heard the Jedi princess once or twice, but it didn't seem like Bastila was particularly coherent. Whatever had happened at the bottom of that cursed ocean had certainly done a number on her.

I'd tracked Revan down to the rear of the ship, watching a newsvid while the Twi'lek's pet droid tinkered with one of the control panels. HK-47 was downloading the holo-feed for Revan; I kept a wary eye on him as I walked closer. That robot was efficient enough that I wouldn't underestimate him.

Revan tensed as I stepped closer, but kept her eyes on the newsvid. It was some story about Czerka and the Exchange at each other's throats, over a minor explosion in Manaan and some mess on their sister planet, Rii'shn.

"I can't think that Czerka would want to face off against the Exchange. Or vice versa," I said slowly. I'd wondered earlier where Revan had gone. Bastila had mentioned she'd left Manaan altogether. "Y'know, it almost sounds like someone very cleverly put the two of them at odds. You went to Rii'shn before, didn't you?"

Revan looked sharply over at HK. "HK-" she muttered, before the combat droid cut her off.

"Query: Is this going to be another discussion on foreseeable consequences, master?" HK answered in his metallic voice. I had little use for machines, but damn, this one was both amusing and competent.

Revan's voice cut through the air. "HK, power down." The droid voiced an assent before shutting down completely, and I took the opportunity to appraise her. I considered myself a decisive man, but something held me back from acquainting Revan with the truth about herself. Maybe it was pure curiosity. I wanted to understand her first, to see if there was anything left worth knowing, to see if she deserved the truth.

"You've been avoiding me," I told her flatly.

"Hardly," Revan replied, but her eyes darted to the exit. A frown crossed her face, and she dragged her gaze back to me. She'd healed well, only a faint yellowing remained on the left side of her face. She's damn lucky. I would have killed most people for doing what she did. And maybe that was it. She still owed me; one punch wasn't enough to even the scales between us.

"Spar with me, Jen Sahara," I offered.

She blinked. "You want to fight?"

I grinned slowly. "Yeah. Unarmed combat. Are you up for it?"

An exasperated puff of air escaped her mouth. "Are you getting bored, Canderous? I remember chatting with a Trandoshan, once, who said that if Mandalorians go too long between battles they start killing each other just to pass the time."

I laughed loudly. "You're thinking of Iridonians. We Mando'ade spar, to pass the time. It's how we test each other's mettle. Come on, Jen Sahara, let's see what you're made of."

She stared at me intently for a moment. "I'm not particularly keen on messing up my face any more, Ordo," she said finally.

"Bah," I spat in disappointment, my lips curling. She isn't who she used to be. Not one bit. "I didn't expect you to be a coward."

I could see her temper rising; her brows lowered and she scowled angrily. "Hardly," she hissed, eyes flashing. "Fine. I'll take the bait. Let's do this then, Mandalorian."

I felt a fierce grin forming as I stood opposite her. "No Force powers," I said flatly. "No blasters, no weapons." I unclipped two mini-blasters and left them by the wall; the damn Selkath hadn't returned my repeating blaster before we'd left. A vibrosword, shiv-blade, and two 'frag grenades followed.

Revan quirked an eyebrow at me, her anger had already fled in keeping with her mercurial character. I wondered idly if the Revan of old had been so temperamental. "Is that all?" she asked dryly.

"No armour," I grunted, pulling at a worn buckle that opened with an electronic hiss. I'd rifled through the supplies on the Ebon Hawk, cast-offs and spare kit from Davik Kang, but I needed to find a decent vendor. I'd had little time to acquire anything on Manaan, and what options I'd found had been less than desirable. "First to yield loses."

Revan looked down at her cloth shirt and then grimaced, shrugging her shoulders. She'd equipped as little armour as she had weapons. Mine dropped to the ground with an audible thud, followed by a heavy plysteel interleaved shirt. Bare-chested, I bared my teeth at her as her gaze trailed down my chest.

I wasn't bad to look at, I certainly knew that.

"Are you ready?" I taunted, raising my fists. Her eyes snapped back up and caught mine, a flinty green gaze. She nodded, legs apart and arms held loosely at her sides while she appraised me.

I stepped forward, lunging with an exploratory left hook. Swifter than I'd expected, she ducked under and side-stepped, but I'd predicted that and kicked out with a leg. She somersaulted over it and landed behind me gracefully.

"No Force powers," I repeated, turning to face her. Damn, but she was quick. How much was innate I didn't know.

"No Force powers," she echoed. "As much as I'm able to, at any rate." It was muttered, under her breath, but I caught the words and scowled.

"A fair, clean fight, Jen Sahara," I ground out, circling around her. She kept her eyes on me, but made no move to advance. I jumped forward and let loose a flurry of blows that she somehow evaded before rolling to the side and coming up in a crouch.

Come on, Ordo, show her what you're made of. Another kick that she deftly dodged, and now a mocking expression emerged on her face. Guess it's time to distract her.

"Did I ever tell you that Revan once fought Mand'alor, much like this?" I panted, circling around her. I feinted to the left before punching with my right, and yet somehow she was dodging almost before I'd started moving. I need to connect just once, solidly, and I can down her.

"No," she bit out, brows lowering in distaste. "I'm surprised she didn't just fry your Mandalore with some dark Force power."

So, she has a bad opinion of herself. I wonder if the Jedi are responsible for that. "Well, I only heard the stories. But she kept true to the Mando'ade way. Fists, feet, nothing else but pure strength and speed."

Revan snorted derisively, ducking under an exploratory roundhouse. "Sounds pretty fallible, Canderous. I'm sure if someone wanted to win they'd just stim themselves up."

"They could, but no Mando'ade would follow them." I stepped forward with a kick, hitting empty air again. "Are you afraid to hit me?" I taunted.

"No," she scowled, and I jabbed my fist forward directly towards her side. It should have hit her, and yet somehow she dodged to the left once more, this time counter-punching and striking me in the gut.

I grunted in surprise, and raised my arm to block a second punch. "You'll have to do better than that," I jeered, and recognized surprise on her face as she realized how ineffectual that had been. I dropped down and struck out with a leg, connecting solidly and tripping her over. I jumped forward with a raised elbow, but she'd rolled out of the way and I landed on the floor with a thud.

We both scrambled to our feet; she was cautious once more as we circled around, both searching for an opening. I heard a series of beeps from the Twi'lek's utility droid in the corner; it caught Revan's attention briefly and I grabbed the opportunity, vaulting forward with a rapid jab. She started ducking the instant I moved, and once more I connected with empty air.

A sharp boot to the back of my thigh had me flailing off-balance, followed by a blow to the back. I fell, and converted it to a roll, coming up in a crouch and flinging my forearms up to block the next impending attack.

But she was four steps back, in the centre of the half-circle room, breathing heavily and eyeing me over. She's testing me, as I am her, I realized in annoyance. Her blows were impotent, but I wasn't sure I could get past her speed.

"Are you ever going to stop dodging?" I asked mockingly. "Like a hood-mouse running from a kath hound."

Revan actually poked her tongue out, and that loosed an unexpected laugh from me. She certainly ain't boring. Or cowardly, despite her initial reluctance. I struck out with a boot followed by my right hook – she jumped over the first then threw her arms up to block.

My fist slammed through her guard and into her jaw.

She crashed backwards onto her arse; I lunged forward to exploit the opening but Revan was already scrabbling backwards to her feet, a hand cradling her face as she glared sullenly at me. A trickle of red seeped through her fingers.

"That's first blood to me, Jen Sahara," I said smugly.

"Sithspit," she muttered, rubbing her face. The blood came from her lip; it'd be swollen by the morning. "I think I'll stick to keeping out of the way, thanks."

"Are you regretting it already?" I mocked. "Not many Force-users like fighting blind. They become dependent on their magic tricks, like old men hiding behind a shield. That's why we admired Revan, you see. Even after defeating the might of our army, she still agreed to an unarmed duel with Mand'alor. And won."

"Admired," Revan spat out disbelievingly. "You admired that insane monster who slaughtered millions around the galaxy."

"People die in wars, Jen Sahara," I said coldly. "From what I've heard and seen of Revan, she killed only when necessary to achieve her goals. Malak, on the other hand, kills gratuitously even among his own followers." I shook my head in disgust. "It's a stupid waste. I don't understand how his army has expanded so rapidly."

Her brows had slammed down again and her eyes glittered dangerously. She wasn't enjoying the conversation - some part of her didn't appreciate discussing Revan so candidly. I wondered if she had any idea at all.

"Are you going to talk or fight, Canderous?" she jeered.

"I can do both," I replied drily.

The utility room we were sparring in tapered into a tight corner at the stern of the freighter; I recognized that as the best place for crowding her and landing a blow. I stepped forward and loosed a jab that she deftly avoided again, but in doing so she'd backed right into the nook. I put as much power and speed into a swinging right uppercut as I could, but still, still, she saw it coming and dived out of the way, rolling behind me and striking out with a sharp kick to my side.

I grunted, throwing my arms up instinctively as I twisted to face her; she'd backed off once more into the centre of the room. How can she react so quickly? It seemed like there was no delay between my action and her subsequent reaction; to get past her dodging I'd either have to distract her or trick her.

"Did you know that by beating Mand'alor, Revan had a claim to the title?" I said conversationally, moving around her. I wanted to try backing her into the corner again. Revan kept her eyes fixed on me, but her face had tightened. "I'm not saying the clans would have accepted her, being an outsider, but they would have listened to her case if she'd consented to clan adoption. If she were still alive, I would follow her."

That definitely startled her; I used the opportunity to launch a fist that connected solidly in her side. She stumbled backwards with a yell and failed to dodge my other fist that sunk deep into her solar plexus.

She crashed onto her back with a thud, groaning, and I capitalized by launching a flying kick. Somehow her instincts were faster; she rolled to one side before leaping up to her feet.

I'd hurt her this time. She was doubled over, breathing unevenly, pain lines scored in her face. Blood dripped down her chin from the earlier blow, and her lip was already visibly swelling.

"Had enough, Jen Sahara?" I mocked, stepping forward towards the stern of the ship once more. Revan was wary now - when I struck out with my right hand, she bobbed under it but didn't counter-punch this time. She jumped backwards to avoid a kick, and was once more crowded into the corner.

I was coming in from a slight angle, leaving a bigger opening on my right. I won't wait for her to duck to the side this time, I'll just expect her to.

I punched out with my left fist and anticipated a dodge; my right hand immediately swung in a powerful roundhouse that slammed into the side of her head.

Revan crumpled to the floor.

I jumped on her, pinning her arms with my knees, one fist raised to connect again. She moaned and stirred, turning to face me with an unfocused expression.

I vaguely heard the side door swish open.

"You ready to yield yet?" I taunted. Her eyes cleared, losing the glassy look.

"Ordo! What- what are you doing?" Onasi had entered the room behind me. He sounded amusingly outraged. "Get off her!"

"Yes, I yield," she hissed. "Damn it."

I grunted in satisfaction and stood, offering Revan a hand which she grudgingly accepted. I yanked her to her feet, and turned to face the Republic captain.

He had a hand on his holstered blaster, body tensed, ready to take action. My muscles clenched in response, and I immediately glanced toward my weapons – on the other side of the room.

"It's alright, Carth," Revan muttered. "We're just- training."

"Training," Carth responded blankly. I saw him take in my shirtless garb and Revan's loose clothing. He turned a dark scowl on me. "Right. You sure this isn't some sort of primitive Mandalorian mating ritual?"

Revan laughed at that, genuine and loud, before it turned into a choke. She stepped back, leaning heavily against the wall. That comment isn't worth my time. I guess Republic's version of sparring is firing blasters at a wall.

I looked back at Revan. She'd fought well, and was quicker than should be possible, but she lacked stamina. She's out of shape, not what she was once. Still, it was a warm satisfaction to know I had beaten her, she who had once taken down our leader. And she's definitely gonna feel this come tomorrow.

"Training?" I repeated back at her, raising a brow.

"Yeah," she sighed, closing her eyes. "Tomorrow, Canderous. Every damn day until we land on Korriban. But for now… I'm gonna go lie down."

xXx

Belaya Linn

Dreshdae was a cesspool of lowlifes and mercenaries, and that was not even counting the Dark Jedi. I had been here little over ten days, and already I was considering turning tail.

I sat down on the hard bedroll that served as my sleeping quarters in the cheap dormitory I was renting, my fists clenching in my lap. My courage was lacking. I had yet to venture near the Sith Academy and whether it was fear of the Dark Side or finding Juhani there of her own volition I did not know.

Perhaps a year of searching is enough. Perhaps she truly is gone.

That fateful day, I'd cursed Master Quatra's name to the Outer Rim and back. Weeks passed with the healers uncertain whether she would pull through or not; I had stayed, then, if only to find out for Juhani's sake. For I suspected my friend had taken flight believing in her Master's death. It was Quatra's fault, all of it. Everyone could see Juhani felt too strongly for her Master, but to throw it back in her face like she was nothing…

It wasn't worthy of a Jedi, let alone a Master.

I sighed, looking down at the lightsaber cupped gently in my hands. Master Tefain had entrusted it to me when I'd passed the Knight trials; it had been constructed with a rare bondar crystal and glowed a gentle gold when activated. Tefain… what must you think of me now. My gentle master pleaded with me to stay at the Enclave, but how could I? How could I desert Juhani, who was as dear to me as… as Quatra was to her, little did she know.

When Quatra woke from her healing coma, I launched into her verbally and without mercy. Now, I was somewhat ashamed at my tirade, but also uncertain that I would do anything differently, had I the chance. After that, I'd left Dantooine, vowing to find my friend.

I'd started my search on Taris, Juhani's homeworld, a planet whose racial prejudices were second in magnitude only to the scale of inequality between the rich and the rest. Juhani spoke rarely of her youth, and when she did I heard bitterness and desolation dredging up from the depths of her soul. I hadn't expected her there, but one's place of origin seemed an obvious starting point.

I found dark whispers, and little else. Whispers that a small handful of slavers had recently met their end in a bloody, ruthless way by a Sith assassin - for no Jedi would act like that, even if the plasma beam was rumoured to be a dark blue. My heart clenched with dread but, despite my efforts, I could not even dredge up a reliable description of the slavers' murderer. Whoever it had been had left Taris shortly after the event.

Coruscant was my next destination; I hoped in vain she had returned to the Order, perhaps believing a different Enclave would be easier or more forgiving. A holo-message from Tefain awaited me there, pleading once more for my return. They should have been begging Juhani, not me. Quatra is still a Master, still with the Jedi, and Juhani… well, it was entirely possible my old friend was now one with the Force.

I'd spent the last few months hiring private detectives - even an Exchange snoop - to no avail. Eventually, I'd surrendered to the last obvious option: The Sith. I must gather my courage, put on my bravest face, and enter the Academy. If she truly had fallen, then surely here I would find mention of her, whether she be at the Academy or elsewhere amongst Darth Malak's forces.

And if not, then I will return to Tefain. If he is still alive.

The news of the Dantooine bombing was appalling. That Darth Malak had both the gall and the firepower to mount such an attack would have sent ripples of fear across the galaxy. I'd always thought Darth Revan had been the stronger of the two, but the Sith forces had increased since her demise. The apprentice had certainly outstripped the master.

And Tefain… The thought of his potential death saddened me, yet perhaps the months of living rough and hiding my identity as a Jedi had hardened my empathy somewhat. I hoped my old master survived and that I would one day reunite with him, but finding Juhani was my primary goal.

I took in a deep breath, and glanced around the bare dormitory. Six other sentients were currently residing here, although the room was empty for now. As a Czerka-run hostel it was bare, rundown, and eminently affordable. A good starting place for one attempting to approach the Sith Academy.

I heard footsteps and hurriedly concealed my lightsaber; to my fellow roommates I was posing as a mercenary down on her luck – a common occurrence in Dreshdae. A Rodian entered the room, giving me an affable nod as he walked passed, a tray of hot food clutched tight in his grip.

"How's the job market?" he asked in passable Basic.

"Fine," I answered briefly, not wishing to encourage further conversation. The Rodian took a spoon of the meal in front of him and grimaced, the corners of his small mouth turning down in disgust. It was a plyfoam tray heaped with unidentifiable brown lumps, and did not appear appetizing in the least.

"This is awful," he commented, and I couldn't help a chuckle in agreement. I certainly would not miss the food here when I finally departed.

"Indeed," I agreed. "Korriban's cuisine is not particularly palatable." He stared at me unblinking until I shifted in discomfort. "Uh, I mean it tastes like frelling kath dung and smells like marsh-toad puke?" I cringed, aware that my Chandrilan accent was out of place, and stood abruptly.

"Goodbye. I am going now," I said stiltedly, and hurried out of the room, feeling awkward and embarrassed. I was ill at ease, pretending to be something I most decidedly was not.

I must stop dawdling. It matters not what some anonymous Rodian thinks of me; what is important is seeing this through. I'd heard one of the Sith Masters often frequented the cantina; a Twi'lek female with a sense of humour and a soft spot for other women. That must be my starting point.

My steps became purposeful as I headed towards the local cantina. I would discover a way in, and then see if there was any information to be had about my friend.

And if by some miracle I did find a fallen Juhani, I still had no idea what I would say or do.

xXx

Mission Vao

"Big Z, look what I got," I said breathlessly, my arms full of an exoskeleton that wasn't quite as light as I'd hoped.

Zaalbar glanced up from the armour he'd been repairing – he'd been doing this inventory of the ship's equipment, and I'd been bored enough to scout around for more. Canderous, it seemed, had quite the stockpile.

"(Mission, is that the bounty hunter's armour?)" Zaalbar replied, his hands stilling on the plysteel plates he'd been rejoining. The Wookiee was seated at a workbench in the engineering bay of the 'Hawk, crowding over the tools and benchtop alike.

Although, Big Z did tend to crowd over everything.

"Yeah!" I answered, lugging it over to him. "It's meant to have some sort of Force resistant powers, but it's broken in places."

"(Mission,)" Zaalbar said slowly, his brows lowering. "(Didn't Canderous Ordo retrieve that from Calo Nord's corpse?)"

"Uh huh. D'ya think you can fix it? It might be useful, what with going to Korriban and all-"

"(Mission!)" Zaalbar howled, cutting me off. I blinked in surprise.

"Sheesh, Big Z, where's the fire?"

"(Please do not tell me you stole that from the Mandalorian!)" Zaalbar wailed. "(I know you are bored, but he will notice that it is missing, Mission!)"

I scowled angrily, folding my arms and glaring at him. "How stupid d'ya think I am, Big Z? I bought it from him. It's too small for him, and broken besides, and I still have my pazaak and swoop winnings. I'm not a brainless Gamorrean, y'know!"

Zaalbar looked abashed at that. Well, about as abashed as a seven foot Wookiee can look. He scratched his head uncomfortably, causing his fur to stick out in all directions. He's getting scruffy looking again. I'm gonna have to do something about that soon. It didn't go down too well last time, what with the bath and all.

"(I believe I jumped to the wrong conclusion, Mission. I certainly do not think of you as stupid.)" He leaned over and picked up the blue and white exoskeleton, perusing the side plates that had been severed by a lightsaber. "(You are right, it would be very helpful if I can fix it. I might be able to modify it to fit you.)"

I beamed at the Wookiee. "Great, I'll leave you to it for a bit then, Big Z."

I was starting to feel restless. The hyperspace journey had taken ages, and I really wanted to talk to Jen – even if I was still upset with her. But it seemed like her every waking minute was spent training with Juhani – who barely spoke two words to me – or getting beaten up by Canderous. And she was distant whenever I did manage to collar her. Friendly, but distant.

I guess I missed my friend.

Maybe I should track her down now. Looks like Big Z's gonna be awhile. And Carth won't play any more pazaak against me. I grinned. Carth wasn't bad, for a soldier old enough to be my dad, but he certainly wasn't letting me score any more creds from him.

Zaalbar waved me away absently, and I wandered out the door, keeping my footsteps silent and my ears open for any sounds. Soft voices in the direction of the central common room reached me, and I quietly moved in that direction.

A haggard and barely lucid Bastila Shan was leaning heavily against Juhani. Whoa, she's awake! I kept back in the shadow of the open corridor, away from the artificial lighting, and unabashedly eavesdropped.

"…believe it's a weapon that's powering Darth Malak's army," Bastila was whispering. She looked terrible, her skin sagged from hollow cheekbones and there were bruised shadows under her eyes. She looked old. "We have no other explanation for the exponential growth of his armada. The Star Map found on Dantooine had the coordinates of the four planets; hence our quest." She closed her eyes, panting slightly as if the conversation had exhausted her.

"So if it's a weapon, our endgame will be to destroy it then?" Jen was standing back from them, her arms folded defensively as she stared at them both. Whereas Juhani looked worried whenever she surveyed Bastila, Jen just seemed resolute. Like she was steeling herself for something unpleasant.

"If we are correct in our assumption," Bastila whispered. Juhani put an arm around her.

"I'll tell the others," Jen muttered. "Not that it's much more than what we already knew, but I'm not holding back information from them. They all deserve to know what we're up against." A dark colour suddenly flushed her face, as if she'd recalled something decidedly distasteful. "We need to talk, Bastila. Alone."

"I am tired," Bastila mumbled from next to Juhani. "I do not deny you, Jen, but I am… exhausted."

"Later," Juhani interrupted in a quiet but steady voice, as she began to lead Bastila towards the makeshift medbay. "We must focus on Bastila's recovery first, Jen. We will need all our resources on Korriban."

As the two shuffled away, I heard the plaintive query: "I do not understand why we are headed there, Juhani," before they entered the medbay. Jen sighed in frustration, before turning around to leave through the starboard exit. She took two steps passed me, stopped, and then turned again.

"Mission," she said wryly. "How long have you been listening in?"

I grinned impishly at her. "Awhile. Long enough that you shoulda sensed me by now."

Jen chuckled. "We were a bit distracted."

"I know," I said, wandering over to sit down on one of the central benches. The canvas material had a fraying hole on the edge of it where plimfoam was showing. I picked at it absently. "It's good news though, that she's up. She'll be back to her bossy self in no time I guess."

She laughed, louder this time, and came to sit next to me. "Yeah. Hopefully by the time we hit Korriban, because we could really do with her help."

"But she's famous, right?" I asked, pulling a long strand of plimfoam out from the bench. I grimaced, and tried to stuff it back in. "I mean, surely some of the Sith would recognize her on Korriban?"

"She won't be able to leave the 'Hawk. But I was meaning the bond between us. From everything I've been told, Korriban's a dark place. Guess it has to be, with a Sith Academy there and all." Her words were wry, and the corner of her mouth lifted in a grin. But a different emotion spoke clearly through her human eyes. She's terrified, of the Dark Side.

Well, of course that made sense. Jen had been so angry at times, and the sabotage on the Ebon Hawk certainly hadn't been the actions of a friend. Or a Jedi. But I hadn't really clicked that it would frighten her so. Of course it would! Sheesh, it would scare me spitless.

"How's the bond thing going, anyway?" I asked curiously.

"Not so well," the human sighed, rubbing the side of her face and then wincing as she inadvertently pressed against ugly swelling. "She doesn't respond to me. I'm not sure if it's purposeful or not… she had a lot of psychic damage. Juhani said there was some sort of vast entity near the Star Map on Manaan that damn near blew Bastila's mind apart. I think the length of her recovery indicates what a near thing it's been."

"She's gonna be okay though, right? I mean, she sounded okay."

Jen smiled at me then, her mouth tilting up in a way that made the bruising all the more pronounced. "Yes, I think so."

I pulled my feet up on the bench, wrapping my arms around them as I looked over my human friend. I wonder how much kolto she's going through daily. Fortunately, Davik Kang had left the Ebon Hawk well-stocked with adventuring essentials; I'd seen Big Z move crates of healing supplies and stims over to our makeshift medbay. Good thing too, 'cause I bet no one thought to stock up on Manaan, the freaking kolto capital of the galaxy.

"Why are you doing this thing with Canderous?" I asked her in curiosity. "Is it some sort of training? I can't see Canderous letting you fire freaky Force powers at him without getting his own back." And he certainly is getting his own back. I haven't seen any obvious marks on him, yet.

"No Force powers, just unarmed sparring," Jen confirmed, which made even less sense. The port door opened, and we turned our heads to see Juhani re-enter the room, walking towards us with a tired smile.

"Bastila is asleep again," Juhani murmured. "I am very glad she was able to get up. It bodes well for her recovery."

Jen nodded at the Cathar, but otherwise said nothing.

"Y'know, Jen, that just seems a little unbalanced," I said, rewinding the conversation. "I mean, if you're not using Force powers, how in the Outer Rim d'ya expect to beat Canderous with your fists?"

Juhani interrupted, answering before Jen had a chance to. "The Force guides our actions unknowingly, even when we aren't drawing on it." Her tawny eyes were trained on Jen. "The more you are familiar with it, the more it will guide your actions and sharpen your senses."

Jen was frowning. "Do you mean the reason I manage to dodge most of his blows is because of the Force?"

"I am sure much of it is innate, and a lot trained," Juhani responded quietly. "But put a neural disruptor around your neck and you would notice the lack."

"I bet Canderous doesn't realize that," Jen muttered under her breath. "About me or Evil Bitch."

I didn't think she meant that comment to be heard, but we had, and Juhani sent her a piercing look in response. "What- what do you mean by that, Jen?" The Cathar had taken two steps forward towards her, a furry palm raised as if in question.

"Oh, it's nothing," Jen replied, shooting her a frown. "Just that Canderous won't stop going on about the frelling blood duel between his Mandalore and that sithspawn Darth Revan. I'd rather not hear anymore about it, but Mandalorians seem to have this perverse sort of respect for their conquerors."

"He is kinda weird," I agreed, wrinkling my nose. I noticed then that Juhani's mouth was slightly open, in stunned surprise or something – which looked weird on her stripy face. I wonder what's up with her.

"I do believe there is something I must do. Excuse me." Juhani said at last, her eyes darting away from us both. Jen stared after her in confusion, even long after Juhani had left the room.

xXx

Bandon Stone

Kashyyyk. My lip curled in disgust. An empty planet filled with brainless Wookiees and pathetic Czerka minions. And supposedly home to a Star Map.

Three days until the star cruiser would leave hyperspace and enter Kashyyyk's orbit. According to the intercepted comms, there would be at least one Jedi Master waiting. Vrook Lamar. That'll be… interesting.

But my primary mission was to locate the Star Map and destroy it, and then lie in ambush waiting for Malak's ex-girlfriend. If I take out the Jedi farts first, then Revan will be suspicious when she lands. I can deal with the wrinkled old coots in the aftermath.

It would certainly be an interesting challenge, trying to track down the ancient Rakatan legacy, especially seeing that Malak didn't know its location. I find that curious. That one of the Star Maps Revan found by herself. I wonder if even then, before they turned on the Republic, she didn't quite trust Malak. In which case it was imbecilic of her not to have dealt with him earlier.

Revan had never overly impressed me. She had a tendency to listen to her subordinates if they held an intelligent viewpoint and, while that might at first seem advantageous, it also left her vulnerable to betrayal. A true Sith forges his own path, and cuts down any who oppose him.

But Revan's sheer power, ahhh. I'd certainly respected that. I'd heard that a Force user of her strength hadn't been found in centuries, and Malak was her equal in that regard, or tantalisingly close to. And the both of them had tempers that, once loosed, were ferocious enough to rock planets.

I'd always been careful not to warrant their rage, or deflect it onto someone else if necessary. I'd seen both of them kill in a blazing fury, and I wasn't idiotic enough to roll the dice with my own life.

Such is the glorious power of the Sith. The power of life itself. One day, Malak would stumble and I'd take over the reins. My power was still emerging, and so was my knowledge. But not yet. I will bide my time, and grow my strength, and strike when the time is right.

I heard the exit hatch open and felt the presence of a comrade enter the room. I remained staring impassively out at space so he would come to me. It was crucial to maintain the pecking order, even with the little things, and I was undoubtedly Malak's first apprentice.

"Bandon," Yudan Rosh acknowledged as he took the final step next to me. "I've had reports that Lamar will be accompanied by at least two other Masters on Kashyyyk."

"And?" I said in a bored tone. "Is that supposed to make me quiver in fear?"

"Don't turn this into a pissing contest," he returned coldly. "Our target is Darth Revan, not Lamar or anyone else from the Order."

I snorted, allowing the corner of my mouth to turn up in a derisive sneer. As a race, I'd never considered Twi'leks brave, and Yudan hadn't changed my mind in that regard. His Force abilities weren't to be ignored, however; nor his previous battle experience. I didn't count him my equal, but that was due to his lack of ambition rather than strength. Yudan had quite the power, and the quite the past. "Are you going to run from three robes, Yudan?" I mocked.

His expression didn't change, but then Yudan Rosh had always been a frakking icicle. He held my gaze. "I remain focused on our Master's orders. We are heading to Kashyyyk to kill Darth Revan, not play games with Jedi Masters."

"Are you questioning me, Yudan?" I whispered. I drew deep into the Force, letting it fill me to completion with sweet, sweet power. It was a threat, a vow, a promise of what I would unleash if Yudan Rosh dared defy me.

He stilled, his cold eyes fixed warily on mine.

In a straight shoot-out of sheer strength between us, it would be an interesting match. One day soon, I knew, I wouldn't let him back down from my taunts. One day soon I'd grind him beneath my feet.

But for now he said nothing; merely stared blankly at me.

"You're scared you'll finally have to face Tokare." My tone was malicious, and Yudan's yellow eyes narrowed. But he still remained silent. Pathetic. Oh, Vandar Tokare was definitely one to be careful around, but he also very rarely engaged in any form of combat. But then, he wasn't my former master.

The Twi'lek's face had turned to stone, but he hadn't embraced the Force. I'd never quite decided if he was naturally cowardly, or if the steel inside him had been snapped when Darth Revan bedded him. He'd been a general in the past, one of the frakking Jedi Thirteen - or, as those devoted Fleet twats used to call them, Revan's Guard of Twelve. And once, there'd been no one as besotted with Revan Freeflight as Yudan Rosh. Apart from Malak. I snorted in derision. I hadn't been involved in the Wars, so all I'd heard was Nisotsa's drivel. But I did know that Yudan was a captain, one to fill the ranks and lead the minions into slaughter. He'd never be more than that. He'd followed Revan and Malak since the Mandalorian wars, and one days he'd follow someone into his own grave.

"I am leading this mission, Yudan. We will do what we need to, and if further opportunities arrive then we shall take them," I stated coldly, turning away from him and staring once more out through the transparisteel window, into the abyss of space. "I am no fool, but nor shall I fail to take advantage of fortuitous circumstances merely because you are a little frightened. Now, leave me be."

xXx

Carth Onasi

Jen was alone in the central common room when I walked in, a lightsaber held loosely in her hand. The swelling on her lip had died down, but she had a cut under one eye, and a large purpling bruise on the side of her face.

"You look awful," I said. Jen was spending her waking hours either training with Juhani or the Mandalorian. And why I could understand the former, the sparring with Ordo seemed senseless, considering she didn't actively use the Force.

Jen grinned impishly at me. "Aw, Republic, you sure know how to make a woman feel special."

I flushed at that, belatedly realizing how tactless my words had been. "Sorry. It's just- I don't really see what you're getting out of those fights, other than an extra handful of bruises."

"I beat him, yesterday," she said absently. "I got a lucky blow in, now I've got to figure out how to repeat it." She sighed deeply, and then winced, one arm pressing against her ribs. "I dunno, Carth, it's honing my reflexes. And there's something to be said for a good, clean fight…" her lips twisted. "Maybe it's an outlet for me, and that's useful in itself."

"What, getting beaten up daily stops you losing your temper?" I was only half-serious, but she frowned, and I could tell she was taking my suggestion onboard.

"Maybe," she said softly. "I'm working on that with Juhani. Control, I mean. I…" she trailed off, her gaze fixed somewhere on the durasteel wall behind me. She seemed to have lost the thread of the conversation, and had than damn distant look on her face again. There was a large part of me still angry, still furious, about what she'd done, but then I'd remember the frozen, sick look on her face when I'd mentioned Darth Revan's invasion of Deralia. Or I'd catch Jen unawares in the common room, glancing over to Mission with a shamed expression in her eyes.

Jen regretted what she'd done. I wasn't sure if I could get past it, but I had to give her credit for facing up to us and trying to put things right.

I hadn't seen Jen much during the hyperspace journey, though. Neither had Mission, and I'd heard the girl complaining about it. Maybe it was remorse that was keeping Jen tucked up with Ordo and Juhani, as much as training - for the both of them seemed to have completely forgiven Jen for scuttling the Ebon Hawk.

I frowned, and recalled the reason I'd tracked her down.

"We're approaching Korriban," I said, moving to the kitchenette to brew some caffa. "We'll be exiting hyperspace tomorrow. Do you have a plan, Jen, or are you just going to rush in like usual and this time really get yourself killed?"

She was silent; I turned to see she'd dropped her head in her hands. "I'd counted on Bastila being awake and coherent by now," she said, her voice muffled. "I've only had two conversations with her since we boarded, and she's not in any state to aid me or answer any of my frelling questions." She sighed, a stifled exhale of breath, before continuing. "I don't deny that Korriban freaks me out a little, Carth… but we've gotta strike while we have the element of surprise."

"Freaks you out," I muttered in disbelief. "Jen, Korriban is a training ground for the Dark Side-"

"Yeah, I'm aware of that," she interrupted sarcastically. I frowned at her hunched figure.

"Let me finish," I shot back. "Look… I used to think it was just a fancy name for something I see every day. Corruption is everywhere. People are greedy and stupid and do horrible things. But I'm starting to think it's different for the Jedi. That there's this evil watching them, waiting for its chance."

"Like some bad, scary monster?" Her voice was flippant, though her posture was anything but. She was still huddled up on the plimfoam bench, refusing to acknowledge me with her gaze.

"Don't make light of it, Jen," I said sharply. "Just look at Juhani. She seems as straight and true as any Jedi should be… and yet think of the way you found her, back on Tatooine. And then there's you..."

"What about me?" she snapped defensively, jerking up to glare green daggers at me. She can really ask that, after Manaan?

I frowned. "Jen, you have so much courage and strength in you... and yet, there's this incredible darkness, too. Like the flip side of a cred coin. When you have so much power, the stakes are higher. I can only imagine the kind of conflict that goes on inside you, and with no training I'm concerned… more than concerned… at what's going to happen when you get near a Sith Academy."

She didn't answer, but I could see the truth of the matter written on her face. And here I was, worrying about the person who'd blown us out of the sky a mere fortnight ago. I could feel myself scowling. I'd been doing a lot of that lately. "Do you even know where this map is?"

"No." She sighed, her face solemn and set as if carved from permacrete. Wayward curls framed and softened the look a little. "I've been searching the lowerbase holonets. There's scant information on Korriban - but there's only one colony and its right next to the Academy. Also… there's mention of a nearby Sith-controlled valley steeped in dark artefacts and archaeological digs."

"Sith-controlled," I said flatly. "Of course. Blast it, Jen, we don't even know what these Star Maps do! Nothing about this mission makes any sense. Bastila, a Padawan for all that she's experienced, being saddled with the responsibility of tracking down our best chance at defeating the Sith. Why? And how do you fit into this – and don't tell me your scholarly background is useful when Bastila already found two of these maps without your help!"

An eyebrow quirked over an amused green eye. Damn that woman. Despite myself, her amusement took the edge off my anger.

"Are you quite finished?" she drawled.

"No," I bit out, and did my best to level her with a serious glare. "But some answers will do for now."

She didn't reply, and I left my cooling caffa to walk closer to her. Nothing for it. I may as well blurt it out. "This has something to do with whatever happened on Deralia," I said in what I hoped was a matter-of-fact tone. Her shoulders tensed and that piercing green gaze shuttered.

"No… Carth, I don't want to talk about this. I can't," she pleaded.

"Jen – this whole Star Map business – you can't think that you're here because you got some fancy qualification at a backwater Academia. You're a strong Force Sensitive, that much is obvious, but something happened on Deralia when Darth Revan invaded. And somehow the Star Maps are involved."

"Please, Carth, please just drop it," her voice rose in pitch, but my words kept coming.

"I can't. I'm sorry… but I can't. This is bigger than just you. All of our lives are at stake here… and the future of the Republic."

"I don't know what happened! I don't remember, okay?" Her eyes were still squeezed shut, and she was visibly shaking. I felt like a damn heel, but this was too big to ignore for the sake of her feelings.

I sighed softly, and sat down next to her on the plimfoam bench. I felt her visibly withdraw from me. "Look – I know you've got black spots in your memory, and it's been messing you up. It's just that… Do you know why?"

A pause, and then – "What do you mean?" in a clipped, angry tone. I'll take that as a no, then.

"Jen, you were captured by Darth Revan's forces when they invaded Deralia. I- uh, found this out on Manaan. There's no easy way of saying this, but you were hurt – badly hurt - over days. By the Sith, I mean. The Jedi rescued and healed you, but it's the reason you have your memory loss, and the Jedi seem to have left you floundering in the dark about it all. No wonder you're confused. Just how long have you been travelling with the Jedi?"

I realized then that she was staring at me once more; but her eyes were wide and round in a slack, expressionless face. Stang, this was an idiotic thing to push, Onasi. But Bastila hadn't been honest with Jen, and Jen couldn't get a handle on the Force, and we were headed straight for Korriban-

She was muttering no under her breath, squeezing her eyes tightly shut. And I felt like a complete heel. If Dodonna had been right, then Jen had been tortured for who knew how long, and here I was trying to dredge it all up simply because Bastila had kept secrets. Suddenly I felt thoroughly ashamed, and reached a hand out to rest over hers. She flinched backward, and I dropped it.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly. "I shouldn't be pushing this. I- uh, it was wrong of me."

Her eyes snapped open, and a stony look settled in their depths. "Yes," she bit out. "It's not like you enjoy speaking about your past, Onasi, so why you think you can grill me about mine when I can't remember it, I don't know."

"Because it affects us all," I answered back slowly. "But maybe it's Bastila who needs to do the talking. And you're- you're right, it is hypocritical of me. I don't like talking about my past, and I honestly don't see why you'd be interested, but if you really insist on knowing then I suppose I could answer a question or two."

"Wow." Jen looked taken aback, but the sickly look had gone from her face. "That was a bit like pulling teeth, flyboy." She quirked an eyebrow at me. "You got some deep dark secret in your past?"

"No," I sighed. "No dark secret, just… a lot of heartache, that's all."

"You lost someone," she deduced. Her voice dropped. "I'm sorry, Carth. I won't pry."

The generosity of her words was unexpected, and wholly undeserved coming on the heels of my interrogation. It surprised me, because I'd always picked Jen as the nosy type. Maybe that was the reason for my reply, bald and unbidden.

"Yeah. A wife and son on Telos. I never... I never found my son."

I didn't elaborate further – how could I? The word Telos said it all. These days, Morgana's face was hard enough to capture in my mind's eye if I wasn't holding a holo-picture. And Dustil… he'd be Mission's age now, almost a man.

I sighed, dropping my head in my hands. It was four years ago, and in some ways the grief was so raw it felt like yesterday. And yet… time moved on. I'd spent the years immersed in work, with nothing but daydreams of vengeance to keep me going.

I felt the slight, unassuming pressure of Jen's hand resting softly on my shoulder. We sat there, in silence, for some time.

xXx

Uthar Wynn

The human boy stood in front me, sullen as he'd always been since the day he was brought to me. But his power... Given a bit more time, he could succeed as my first apprentice. Although, granted, I doubted I would let that Twi'lek schutta live for much longer. She'd been useful, but all tools eventually outlived their usefulness. Or broke.

And Yuthura was less than trustworthy these days.

Which brings me back to the reason I've summoned him. For it meant I needed to accelerate his training, if he were to be a worthy replacement for Yuthura Ban.

I smiled coldly. "I have an assignment for you."

The boy nodded, his dark eyes flicking up to mine in attention. Over the past year I'd slowly clawed my fingers into his soul, having him accomplish more and more personally selected missions. His status within the Academy had flourished as a result of my attention, just as his companionship with students of his own age had withered. Truly, I wondered whether he knew just how much I owned him.

"What is it you want me to do?" His voice was short and monotone, but not lacking in fear. Which was better than respect, in my mind.

"Someone of great importance has landed on Dreshdae. A very personal friend of Darth Malak. But she's hiding low, and I want to find out why. I need you to tail her; stay in the shadows and don't get caught. You are very good at that, my dear boy."

The boy nodded, accepting my reasons. After all, that made two new arrivals in as many days. The first had checked in as a Rita Sunrider. Otherwise known as Jedi Knight Belaya Linn. On a foolish quest to find some lost Jedi. I will greatly enjoy dealing with her personally.

But Kylah… a turned Jedi who'd recently betrayed Bastila Shan and caused the destruction of the Endar Spire. If Darth Malak sent her here for a purpose and I interfered, the results would not be very… palatable. If, however, she is hiding from Malak… then I would dearly love to know. And there is no one more suited to this sort of reconnaissance than my dear boy.

"Here is her last known location," I added, handing him a datapad. I saw the boy's eyes widen apprehensively as he read the name. He swallowed.

"Yes," I said coldly. "She is a powerful target. I need to know what she is doing here, Dustil. I suggest you do not let her see you."

"Is that all, Master Wynn?"

I nodded. "Report back to me with your suspicions daily."

The boy gave me a brief bow, and turned to leave.

"Oh, and one more thing," I said pleasantly. "There's another newcomer, goes by the name Rita Sunrider. If you come across her, lead her directly to me. She is a special case, shall we say."

xXx