Starlight Champion dropped out of hyperspace over what appeared to be a most desolate scene. The only large planet in the Tolomen System was a blue gas giant with twenty-some moons, all of them lifeless rocks. Arlen and Chance hunched forward over their consoles, checking scanners for any signs of activity.

"You sure we've got the right place?" Arlen asked from the pilot's seat. "I'm not seeing any other ships in-system."

"Kind of the point of a hidden base, isn't it?" asked Chance.

"Hidden's not the same as non-existent."

"Point taken, but- Ah, there we go. See that?" Chance jabbed a finger out the viewport.

They'd dropped into orbit around the gas giant by now, and Arlen squinted at the half-dozen visible moons. "I really don't."

"Yes you do. See that one that's further out, say, twenty degrees above the ecliptic?"

Arlen squinted some more. As they drew closer he could see that the moon wasn't like the others. Instead of being a perfect sphere of cold rock it looked jagged around one edge. As they got closer he saw that the moon did indeed look torn open. Two-thirds of its body was a smooth curving surface but the rest was jagged pieces of rock. It reminded him of holo-images he'd seen of the second Death Star, only this was naturally made. Chunks of space-rock were drifting slowly in its wake as it continued its orbit around the gas giant.

"Huh," Arlen said. "Looks like a broken moon."

Chance checked his scanners. "I think I'm picking up artificial compounds, plus trace elements that correspond with ion engines. Somebody's been here and not long ago. Somethings. I'm getting thrust traces too."

"Busy secret base," Arlen muttered. "I don't see any security apparatus, though."

Something lit up Chance's console. "Great timing. We're being hailed."

"Remember our cover story."

"Really? I was going to spill everything." Chance scratched the beard he'd let grow out. Combined with the blue-iris lenses in his eye and highlights in his hair it made him look less like a prominent business executive and more like the drug-runner he was pretending to be.

Chance stabbed a button and a voice said, "Unidentified ship, state your purpose."

"This is Raven Claw under Captain Brace Samael," Chance said. "Pleased to meet you too. We swung by because we're looking to have a little chat with Mordran Krux."

"Don't know what you're on about, friend."

"I'm sure you do. I'm a referral from a mutual business partner, guy named Tomar Greshk. I've got some precious cargo I'm looking to unload and he said Krux might be a buyer."

"What kind of cargo?"

"Sorry, but that's for Krux's ears only."

After a pause long enough to be tense, the man said, "We lit a beacon. Follow it to the docking bay. Once you land, leave all weapons on the ship."

"Understood. I look forward to seeing your boss" Chance flipped the switch. "Well? Think that went good?"

"We'll see if they greet us with guns drawn," Arlen said. "Better leave your pistol here. Don't wanna risk it."

"What about your lightsaber?"

Arlen bit his lip. A lot of scanning devices didn't recognize a lightsaber as a weapon, but some did. "No point taking chances."

"Right. A Jedi's never unarmed as long as he's got the Force."

"Were you being sarcastic?"

"I don't even know anymore. See the beacon?"

Arlen glanced at his scanners. "I do. I'm taking us in."

He guided Starlight Champion close to the tangled mess some ancient comet must have torn through the moon. Arlen was surprised it hadn't fallen out of orbit entirely, on gone spinning off into the void. The moon was disintegrating slowly; chunks of rock were slowly breaking off and he had to maneuver around some larger pieces still held close by the moon's meager gravity.

The beacon led him through a series of airless caverns. He had to turn on Champion's forward floodlight to keep from smashing into black rock. Finally they found it. An ovoid space a kilometer across had been carved, part naturally and part artificially, and landing pads had been installed. Arlen counted over a dozen ships already docked, mostly smaller freighters not unlike his own, though one looked to be a cargo hauler barely big enough to fit through the tunnels.

"Interesting set-up," Arlen breathed as they set down on the pad. "Wonder if this is the only docking area or they have space for more."

"Well, Krux has a whole moon and I doubt he's sharing it. Plenty of room." Chance unbuckled his crash webbing as they came to a halt. Figures were walking across the landing pad to meet them and a few had blasters out.

Figuring it could be worse, Arlen got out of his seat, did one last check over the ship, then followed Chance down to the cargo section where his friend was opening the ramp.

Chance pointed to the lightsaber still on his belt. "Weren't you gonna ditch that?"

"Good point." Chance unhooked it and slipped it into a small cargo crate beside the ramp. "Well, how do I look?"

Chance looked him over and shrugged. "You looked better with the beard. And blue's not your color."

"I agree on both counts." He ran both hands through his hair. He hoped the dye would wash out fast. "Well, ready?"

Chance nodded and they both stepped down the ramp. Coming toward them at the head of a cluster of armed Niktos was a tall crested Anx with robes falling down his shoulders.

"Greetings," Chance smiled. "I'm Brace Samael and this is my partner, Kennet Cohl." They'd agreed from the start that Chance would be better at this sort of thing.

The Anx blinked small eyes and looked them over. Instead of offering his name or giving any pretense at being a good host, he grunted, "Search them."

The Niktos moved fast. Arlen had expected to be scanned with portable devices held at close range but the poking and groping was too much. He was glad, at least, he'd left his lightsaber safely stored.

"Hey, you greet all your guest like this?" he grunted.

"The ones who show up unannounced, yes," the Anx said. "Well?"

"They're clear, sir." said the Nikto who'd just prodded Arlen's backside.

"All right. Lucky for you gentlemen, Master Krux is available to meet you at the moment."

Flanked tight by their guards, they followed the Anx deeper inside the complex. The hallways, with their metal-grate floors and curved stone roofs, were clearly carved by boring machines. At several intersections they passed scatterings of beings, most of whom spared curious looks at the newcomers. They looked like they could have walked out of any seedy shadowport in the galaxy.

"I like the design," Chance said conversationally. "Very creative. Very secure. Did Krux dig this all out himself or did he, you know, inherit from someone else?"

"This moon has hosted several discreet organizations through the years," the Anx said, "But this current facility is all Master Krux's make."

Again with the master. Different crime bosses liked to handle themselves different ways; he usually associated that kind of title with Hutts and their ilk.

He heard faint music, growing louder. They were led around a few more winding corridors before they entered a great chamber, circular and with a rock-carved dome ten yards high. The chamber was packed with dozens of beings, many human and more alien. A band was in one corner playing an almost-passable jizz-wail jam. On the far side there was a raised dais with a broad stone throne, on which a fairly bloated, red-haired humanoid rested. He didn't seem to notice the newcomers; he was busy leering at a blue-skinned and barely-clothed Twi'lek dancer in the middle of the chamber who was doing her best to contort along with the music.

"Seriously?" whispered Arlen. "Isn't this a little… you know… derivative?"

Chance jabbed him with an elbow.

The Anx waited until the song was done and the dancer was beckoned back to the man on the throne. She sat down on a bench right next to it and leaned her head against the arm-rest so the man could stroke her lekku fondly. His leer swung up to the newcomers as they approached.

"Well, are these my new friends?"

"They claim they want to be, Master Krux," the Anx said.

"All right, let them introduce themselves," Krux waved them forward with a fat hand. "Talk to me, both of you."

"Greetings," Chance said with his best shining smile. "My name is Brace Samael and this is my business partner, Kennet Cohl. It's a pleasure to meet you at last."

"Well, I'm very flattered," Krux said with a tiny of sarcasm. Even if he was a bloated drug dealer who desperately imitated Hutt crime bosses he didn't look like a fool. "What do you have for me? I heard something about precious cargo."

"That's right. Not something we brought on our person, of course"

"Of course." He propped his head up with his free hand, fist smashing fat cheek. "Well, out with it."

"Now, I heard about the wonderful things you've been doing with the glitterstim trade from my friend Tomar Greshk. Now don't worry, I'm not going to pry into your trade secrets-" Chance chuckled good-naturedly, "But I'm sure you already have a great distribution network and I thought we would make excellent partners."

"You have something to distribute, then?"

"That's right. I'm sure you heard of bota."

To Arlen it stirred only a vague memory, but a light went on in Krux's eyes, one that fast darkened with suspicion. "Of course I've heard of bota. It is… was a very rare commodity. The trade dwindled out before Palptine died. It's history."

"They said the glitterstim trade was history too, but you proved them wrong."

"Bota is- was- a plant. Very rare, only grew on a handful of planets."

"Sounds kind of like glitterstim."

"Are you saying you've reproduced the conditions to grow bota? Are you saying you have samples?"

Chance looked theatrically over one shoulder, then the other at the leering audience. "I think we might want to move this to someplace private."

"Maybe. Do you think I haven't had a dozen other beings walk in here offering me bota or some other rare product as a pretext for something else? I'm going to need more than just your word, Samael."

Chance nodded and reached slowly into his jacket. He took out a small sack of something and held it up to be seen. "Catch, sweetheart," he called, and he tossed it right into the blue-skinned Twi'lek's lap. She fumbled it up into Krux's hands.

"I suppose you'll want me to test this next," said Krux as he eyed the bag skeptically.

"Of course, take your time." Chance looked around the chamber and caught the eyes of all the on-lookers. "Any place I can get a drink while we wait?"

-{}-

"It's either the real deal," Mordran Krux said, "Or it's a very good imitation."

He reclined his big body in its chair and held the translucent test vial in front of him. The Mandalorians stood around him; they were otherwise alone in his private office, though he'd insisted on keeping his Twi'lek plaything around until he finally gave into Shalk Jeban's insistence and sent her elsewhere.

"How easy would it be to imitate bota?" asked Jeban, arms crossed in front of his chest. Like the rest of them he had his helmet off but the rest of his beskar on.

"Well, at the end of the day these tests examine chemical compounds. They can't tell me where or how the chemicals happened, you understand? For all I know this Samael cooked this up in a lab somewhere."

"Would that matter?" asked Dorn.

"You mean would it effect the drug? Well, there's only one way to find out, isn't there?" For a second Krux looked like he was going to pop the capsule open and take a sample, but instead he asked, "Do you really think that man's a Jedi?"

"Him or his partner," Jeban said.

"He didn't look like a Jedi. No lightsaber." Krux swirled the tube. "Jedi don't usually trade in this stuff either, best I can tell."

"Naturally, they'd disguise themselves. We were told to expect two humans, one light-skinned, the other dark. Haven't seen any more like that show up today."

"What's your source on this?"

"Don't know. This came straight from Savyar."

"Ah. Well, that settles everything," Krux said dryly. He popped the cap off the tube and held it up. "Well? Anyone up for a sample? What about you, darling?"

"I'm fine, thank you," Tamar said coolly.

"Don't get uptight," Krux scolded. "I know how you Mandos like to drink. Bota's just another kind of high. I'm going to call Sherev'ath back in."

"What for?" asked Jeban.

"What do you think?" Krux picked up his comlink and thumbed it on. "Get in here, Shere. I need you."

Thirty seconds later she slipped through the door. The blue Twi'lek wore a translucent, pink-tinted shimmersilk gown over what little she'd worn on the dance floor. She stopped in the doorway and looked warily at the Mandalorians.

"Come on, Shere," Krux waved her forward. "Let's test Captain Samael's product."

The girl nodded and walked over. If Twi'leks aged at the same rate as humans she couldn't have been out of her teens. Mandalorians, Tamar included, started fighting as teenagers too, but that was different. There was dignity in being a Mando, honor, not like this.

Krux dipped his smallest finger in the tube, then handed it to Sherev'ath. The Mandos looked on, patient and impassive, as Krux licked his finger. Sherev'ath tipped the tube back and swallowed a small mouthful. Her body shook and a small moan escaped her lips. Krux settled back in his chair and breathed deeply, in and out.

"Well?" asked Jeban, hinting impatience. "Is it real?"

"What do you think, Shere?" Krux asked, eyes closed. "How do you feel?"

"I feel good, Master."

"Me too." He opened his eyes, breathed out. "We'll see how long this high lasts, but this… This could be profitable."

"Not if it's Jedi selling," Dorn warned.

"We don't know it is Jedi."

"This is a trick. They're luring you in," said Jeban.

"What do you want me to do? Shoot them now?" He gestured to the security viewscreens in the corner of the room. One showed both newcomers sitting at a bar-counter on the level below the main rotunda. "Maybe they are really selling. The product seems real enough. Maybe the actual Jedi will come striding in tomorrow."

Jeban sighed. "What do you plan on doing with them?"

"Inviting them in for a chat. I've dealt with plenty of con artists in my day. I'll know if they're lying."

"And if they are?" asked Tamar.

"Then they'll be your problem. Isn't that how this is supposed to work?"

"They're supposed to leave empty-handed, believing you have nothing to do with distributing glitterstim for Savyar."

"So it's my job to convince them? How much do these Jedi already know? Assuming they're Jedi at all."

Jeban didn't have an answer for that one. Grudgingly, he said, "You have to be very careful with them."

"I will. And you can stand right behind there-" he jabbed at a false wall- "and listen to the whole thing if you want."

"Well. I guess we have a deal, then."

"Good. Just remember, if you come out guns-blazing, don't shoot me by mistake."

-{}-

Arlen was glad they'd taken alcohol-dampening pills before getting off Champion, because otherwise they'd have been pretty inhibited by the time they were brought in to talk with Mordran Krux. He didn't do much talking, though; that was Chance's specialty. They sat down in Krux's office, just the three of them, and talked over methods of distribution for illicit substances. Krux seemed pretty convinced by the fake bota sample Tendrando Corporation's techs had concocted, which had been Arlen's biggest worry going in. They threw around a lot of numbers and a lot of money talk and it went on for hours until Krux's lair entered into its night-cycle.

When things were winding down Chance yawned and stretched his arms. "Well, this has been a productive conversation, but I'm afraid I'm getting tired."

"I imagine it was a long flight here," said Krux.

"Wasn't it just. If you don't mind, I'd like to sleep on it before we decide anything definite. So I think we'll head back to my ship."

"Of course. We have berths available here, you know. Good ones, too. As a sign of good faith, I'll offer you two a night's stay. Plus companionship, for a small fee"

"Companionship like your little blue friend?" asked Arlen.

"I have a selection, but she's my personal favorite," Krux grinned.

"I appreciate both offers, but right now I just want my own bunk," Chance said. "Maybe next time."

When they left Krux's office the main rotunda was quiet and mostly emptied. The Anx was there with just two Nikto guards this time and they escorted Chance and Arlen back to Champion. They went into the ship and examined it thoroughly. Nothing seemed to have been tampered with, a pleasant surprise.

They didn't go into their bunks, of course. They washed their faces, drank one cup of very strong caf each, and waited one more hour before heading back out. Before going Arlen plucked his lightsaber from its storage bin and stuffed it into a jacket pocket.

"You sure about that?" asked Chance. "I didn't see passive weapon scanners inside, but I wasn't sure."

"The way they groped us going in, I'm pretty sure most of the security's on the front-end. Let's go."

Krux's base was synced to Galactic Standard Time, and by that reckoning it was 0230 hours. The landing platform was deserted except for a few Nikto guards. They hid in shadow and waited until they had a clear count. Then, with a gentle nudge of the Force, Arlen tipped over a toolbox on the far end of the hangar. In the silence its clatter drew the attention of all three guards. While they were distracted, Arlen and Chance scampered into the corridor that led toward Krux's throne room.

"Knew I brought you along for some reason," Chance whispered as they crept on through the dark.

"We brought my ship, remember?"

"Yeah, but it was my charm that got us the audience. I-"

Arlen shushed him. They froze at an intersection and waited for two more Nikto guards to stroll lazily past. They kept moving in silence until they got near the rotunda. The light was low and they skirted carefully around the edges, toward the hallway that had led them to Krux's office. They'd just slipped inside when a voice behind them whispered, "Hold it!"

They froze. Arlen turned, ready to call the lightsaber to his palm. Instead, half-hiding in shadow herself, was the Twi'lek girl who'd been on Krux's dance floor earlier. She had on a loose shimmersilk robe now and stepped barefoot toward them. Arlen tried to sense her intentions in the Force. All he felt was anxiety mixed with fear, which could have meant anything.

All three ducked into the shadowed hallway. The girl- she really was just a teenager, barely older than Jade- whispered, "What are you looking for? Do you want to get into Krux's office?"

"We're just out for a stroll," Arlen said.

"Don't lie." Her voice was tense. "Which one of you is the Jedi?"

Chance said, "I don't know what you're talking about, but-"

"Is it you?" Her eyes swung to Arlen. "Are you a Jedi?"

He could feel it in the Force: hope, longing, desperation. He could even hear it in her voice. He didn't think all that could be faked but he wasn't sure. "Why would you think I'm a Jedi?"

"Krux was talking about it. With the Mandalorians."

"What? Listen, we need to get someplace private-"

Chance grabbed his arm tight. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

He was asking if Arlen could sense deception in the Force. "I think we should listen to her."

"All right," Chance said grudgingly. He gave the girl a look Arlen had seen before. It was the I wish I'd brought my damn blaster look. "What's your name?"

"Sherev'ath."

"Well for now I'm still Brace Samael. Where can we go?"

"I'll show you."

They followed Sherev'ath down the hall to a door. She punched the code into the lock and led them into another rock-carved corridor, secure and empty. "This leads to a hidden door into his office," she explained. It's where those Mandalorians watched you during the meeting."

"What about these Mandalorians now?" asked Chance. "How many are there?"

"Three that I saw. They showed up a day before you did. They knew a Jedi was coming but they weren't sure it was you."

Arlen swore and looked at Chance. "Who do you think? Greshk?"

"I didn't actually tell him we were coming, but..." Chance scowled. "We'll deal with him later. Where are these three Mandos now?"

"I don't know. But the office is empty. If you want to go in there, look at his files-"

"What do you think we're after?"

"You want to trace the glitterstim production to Savyar, don't you?"

Arlen balked. "You know about that?"

"Krux keeps me close," she said sullenly. "I hear a lot of things."

"If he keeps you close, how is it you're walking around free at night?" Chance asked, still skeptical.

"He doesn't keep me chained to his throne. He's not a Hutt."

"Seems like he's trying to be."

"Maybe, but he still needs to sleep in a bed. He's out cold so I got away."

"Out cold naturally?"

The look in her eyes did not belong on a teenage girl's. "It was just a little extra in his nightcap. I thought you might be coming back tonight."

"Hold on," Arlen said. "What do you want from us exactly?"

"What do you think? Take me with you."

Of course she'd wanted that. Why wouldn't she? She'd already gone through in Krux's hands than any person should have had to deal with. "Okay," he said, "We'll take you back to the ship with us. But first let's take a look at his office. You say he's been buying glitterstim from Savyar?"

"That's right. I don't know where it's coming from beyond that."

"Anything we can get will be helpful," Chance said. "Come on, let's go."

"And hope we don't run into any Mandos," Arlen added under his breath.

Sherev'ath led them down two more corridors before they reached what looked like an empty storage closet. Shere'vath tapped a control switch and one wall slid aside, revealing the same room Arlen and Chance had spent hours talking to Krux in.

"Aces, kid," Arlen breathed. "Good job."

"Can you get into his computer?" asked Sherev'ath as the two men went over to his desk and looked over the console.

"Looks like it's encrypted all right," Chance said as he hunched over the viewscreen.

"Are you slicers?" the girl asked.

"I wish," said Arlen. "I do have one backup, though." He reached into his jacket and drew out the small code-breaker key Master Lowbacca had made for him. He found a suitable port and jammed it in.

"What's that?" asked Sherev'ath. She'd inserted herself tight between them.

"A gift," said Arlen, and tapped the button on its side. "It not elegant, but it can brute-force its way through most encrypted systems."

"You mean it floods it with passcodes until one sticks?"

"Exactly. And it suppresses security programs that detect this kind of thing. It doesn't work on really high-quality systems, but-"

Suddenly the screen flashed red. An alarm wailed.

"Kark it!" Chance snapped. "Let's get out of here!"

Arlen pulled out the key and chased the others back through the false door. Sherev'ath closed it just before the sounds of heavy bootsteps filled the office behind them.

"Mandalorians, has to be," Sherev'ath whispered. "We need to get to your ship, now!"

Arlen was still stunned by the speed it had all fallen down, but Chance grabbed him by the arm and tugged him along, hissing, "Nice going, buddy. Real contribution you brought to the team!"

There was no time to snap back a retort. When they reached the rotunda the alarm was still wailing and beings sleeping in shadows were stirring to motion. A door slid open behind them, and even before they heard the tang of the first blaster-shot Arlen pulled out his lightsaber and thumbed it to life.

"Keep going!" he shouted as he deflected the first two laser blasts. Sure enough, three Mandalorians were charging right at him, all firing from their rifles. He deflected one shot right into the grey armor of an attacking Mando but the bolt merely ricocheted off the beskar plating and scorched a wall. Chance and Sherev'ath had no weapons; he couldn't hold them off on his own.

He saw his chance. As they surged forward he reached out with the Force. Krux's throne sat heavy on the dais but physical weight was nothing to a Jedi. He didn't have to throw it far anyway. As he tore it loose it scraped loudly across the floor. Two of the Mandalorians turned to look, just in time for the heavy thing to plow into them hard, knocking them off their feet. The third tried to scramble away; Arlen let it fall hard into him, knocking him down, crunching onto his legs with more weight than beskar could hold.

Other guards were coming. The Niktos has scrambled to life and he could hear them shooting at Chance and Sherev'ath ahead. When he reached the landing platform three of them had their back to the entrance, and it was so tempting to fast and lethal blows while they were exposed. He restrained himself and sent out a Force push to knock one off his feet. By the time the other two turned to face him he was close enough to shear the barrels off their rifles. He snapped a sharp elbow into one's face and threw the other into a wall with the Force.

By then Chance and Sherev'ath were already halfway up the landing ramp. More guards were coming and he sprinted to join them.

Once all three were aboard they closed the landing ramp and hurried to the cockpit. As Arlen dropped into the pilot's seat, Chance took the one beside it and Sherev'ath clung to its back.

"Got any emergency security systems we should know about?" asked Arlen as he fired the engines. More troops were showing up in the hangar. Small-arms fire panged off the hull.

"I'm not sure," the girl said nervously.

"Get in a seat and strap in," Chance warned. "This is gonna be rough."

She barely made it into the one behind Chance when Arlen fired the engines and kicked them off. He spun Champ's nose toward the mouth of the hangar and jumped forward.

"Not so fast!" the girl yelped as he began to wind sharp turns through the winding tunnels.

"She's right," Chance gritted his teeth. "Don't wanna end up pasted on a wall."

"Sorry," Arlen said, "We need to get out there before- Kark it!"

Just when stars swung into view at the distant tunnel mouth, so too did the headlights blazing from a pair of narrow fighters shaped like flying Ts. Mandalorian Beskads.

Chance slammed on the forward shields just as they opened fire. Energy scattered over Champion's cockpit, almost entirely obscuring his view. Chance swore and wrestled with the controls. The Beskads were tearing straight at him without slowing down. He decelerated and spun the ship around.

"We're going back?" squawked Sherev'ath.

"Not if I can help it," Arlen gritted his teeth. "Hold on!"

He remembered the path they'd taken following the beacon coming in. He saw the place where the tunnels branched to the left and right and remembered taking the rightward path.

This time he went left and prayed they wouldn't smash right into a wall.

He had to spin Champion into a tight downward turn to avoid an immediate collision. He kept moving as fast as he could. They burst into a large open chamber, kilometers long, where pillars of thick rock like stalactites bridged floor and ceiling. He wound around them, dodging more fire from the Beskads. An explosion rocked the ship and alarms started to wail. The throttle shuddered in his hands.

"Oh, not good," his co-pilot gasped.

"Chance?" he called, not taking his eyes from the next set of tunnels as he plunged deeper. "What's not good? Tell me what's not good!"

"Aft shields are fluctuating… We're looking at some kinda power overload..."

"Shut 'em off! Shut 'em off!"

"We'll be defenseless!" said Sherev'ath.

Chance shut them down anyway. The Beskads were still on him. As he made a tight turn Arlen slammed on the brakes. One fighter shot ahead; the other evened out right beside them. Chance grabbed the weapons controls and fired. He winged the bottom S-foil on the Beskar and sent it spinning. It didn't seem to hit the cavern wall and blow but Arlen didn't have time to look; the other fighter had fallen behind them again and was shooting.

He gunned the engines again. Sherev'ath yelped as another explosion rocked the ship. Chance looked at his console and said, "Ugh."

"Ugh?" Arlen snapped "What does that mean? Talk to me!"

The engines answered for him; they shuddered, nearly throwing the ship into a rock wall. Arlen saw a black pit in the bottom of the cavern beneath them and dropped down. The Beskad on their tail had to loop around to find a right diving angle but it didn't give up. They fell deeper into the moon, pulled toward its core by weak gravity. He didn't know what was wrong with the engines but he was definitely not going to gun them to full strength yet. He wasn't going to try hyperdrive either, not until they had a chance to check it, which meant they needed a place to hide-

Suddenly the rock walls disappeared and they were surrounded by ice. Ice on all sides, some subterranean water body deep beneath the surface, flash-frozen when the moon cracked open.

Perfect to hide their heat signature, he thought. They just needed to shake the damned Beskad.

-{}-

Tamar gritted her teeth as she dove into channel of ice. The Jedi ship had almost slipped away but instead of trying to make it out of the tunnels it was diving deeper into the broken moon. Shalk Jeban was back in Krux's base with a broken leg; Dorn's fighter has taken a hit and had to pull back. It was just her now.

She tried to find the Force, tried to reach out, tried to tell how far away this Jedi was but she was no Jedi herself, not even close. She was a Mando, trained to aim and shoot and follow orders from her Mand'alor no matter how crazy or questionable those orders were.

She soared out of the tunnel and into a large chamber. The headlights from her fighter illuminated the darkness and gleamed on massive spears of ice, each one a hundred meters long, all jutting out from a giant wall of flash-frozen water. It might have been strangely beautiful, but she needed to find the damned Jedi. She checked her sensors and tried to make sense of things through the heat distortion.

An explosion rocked her ship. Alarms wailed. She wrestled with the control stick to keep from spinning into the spears of ice. She strained in her bubble cockpit to look behind her. The Jedi ship was right behind her, ready to fire again.

Even if she could spin to face it she'd have no chance. She could think of only one desperate move. Beskar'gam was heat-resistant and her suit was thermal-layered, not as good as a real vac suit but good enough to keep the colder-than-vaccum cold away for a minute or two.

She checked her helmet. Sealed tight. She found the lever under his seat just as the Jedi's laser blasts speared through the center of her ship. In her desperation she found the Force again, like she had on Yag'Dhul. She pulled the lever and blew the cockpit open. Fire blossomed on all sides, scorching the exposed fabric of her suit, her sister's gloves. Ejection charges and her own invisible hands hurled her out of the heat and into the cold.

-{}-

Once they were certain the one Mando ship was dead and the second not coming after them, they looked for a place to hide. The ice sheets deep inside the moon offered crevices into which they could slip themselves, and once they found one Arlen powered the engines down to standby. The ice would do the rest to shield them from searchers, at least in theory.

"Are you sure we can get out of here?" Sherev'ath shivered, clutching her arms through her thin gown.

"I can get us through the tunnels," Arlen assured her. "I'm more worried about the engines blowing up on us. We need to take a look."

"You got anything warmer for the lady?" asked Chance.

Arlen didn't have an excess of female clothes lying around his ship, but he remembered the small-fit EV suit Jade sometimes used.

"Check the storage locked in the cargo hold," Arlen said. "Might find something warm. And vacuum-proof."

Chance nodded understanding and escorted Sherev'ath away. Arlen made his way to the rear of the ship, where he could open up the service hatches and examine the engines. The readouts on the cockpit consoles were frustratingly unhelpful, and if they'd blown out some piece of equipment they had no replacement for they'd be stuck in these tunnels for a long, long time.

Worse was that they had nothing to show for it. Trying to brute-force his way into Krux's computer had been stupid, but no other idea had presented itself at the time. Arlen tried to push back the recrimination as he opened the hatch. He found a glowrod and pushed it inside. He bent his head in to get a better look, levering his body halfway in between the two engines cores so his legs stuck out stupidly horizontal. Dimly, he was glad neither Chance nor their new friend was there to see him like this.

He felt something though, the sensation he was being watched. He didn't feel amusement from his watcher. He felt cold, lethal intent.

He used the Force to push himself backward out of the tube. His boots hit the deck the same time he grabbed his lightsaber. He barely got it up in time to deflect the first shot from the Mandalorian in blue and black armor standing in the engine room.

The shot scorched into the ceiling. Arlen shouted, "Wait! Don't shoot! Not in here!"

The Mando lowered his rifle and raised his left arm. Fibercable shot out and wrapped around Arlen's legs. He tried to swipe at it with his saber but the Mando tugged, pulling him off-balance. He shut his saber off but clung to the cylinder even as he tumbled back. As soon as his shoulders hit the deck he rolled onto his side. The Mando jumped forward to kick him in the head; he ignited the lightsaber and caught his attacker's leg. Energy sizzled against beskar, and he tried to twist and slip between armor plates, but the Mando jumped back. He went for his gun again. Arlen kicked both legs into the air and swiped down with his saber, slicing clean between his legs, ripping and singing his trousers but not scraping off muscle or skin.

Before he could rise up the Mando dropped on Arlen hard. An armored elbow slammed into his stomach; he wheezed and the lightsaber fell away. The Mando reached out with his other hand, grabbed Arlen by the neck and squeezed. He choked and gasped for air. He tried to call the saber to his hand but it wouldn't come. Nothing would come. His vision started to blur.

Then a voice shouted, "Get away from him!" and something pounded hard onto the Mando's back. He released Arlen's neck and spun around, catching the swing of a chunk of metal piping with his armored forearm. Leaning low on Arlen still he raised one leg and kicked Sherev'ath in the gut.

The Twi'lek girl, still in the clothes they'd fled Krux in, fell back. The Mando slapped Arlen hard in the face, then got up and went after the girl. That was when Chance showed up, blaster in hand. He popped off blue stun shot that panged harmlessly off the Mando's armor. The Mando grabbed his rifle again and started firing at Chance and Sherev'ath both. They ducked behind the doorway but the enemy kept advancing. By then Arlen had gotten to his feet. He found his lightsaber, called it to his hand, and jumped across the room. His blade sheared the barrel off the Mando's rifle and for a second he froze with the useless weapon in his hands.

"Surrender!" Arlen called, pointing the tip of his blade the Mando's neck.

A second blade pushed his away and he barely escaped the swipe of a third. Suddenly the Mando had two blue-white sabers, one clenched in either fist.

The Mandalorian charged. He swiped one blade at a time, long horizontal blows, too slow to be practiced. He wasn't cutting his own limbs off either, though, which meant this guy must have used these sabers before. A Jedi-killer, probably. Arlen put his anger aside; he'd dueled plenty of amateur combatants and knew how to lead them on, even when they were double-fisting. He let his enemy push him back one step, two, three. He skirted back two more, forcing the Mando to overextend on the next lunge.

He brought his blade up from below and pushed the Mando's up high so he lost balance and stumble forward. Arlen grabbed a forearm with his free hand. His face was close to the enemy's now; he could see his own eyes in the mirror-black T-shaped visor.

"Give… in…." he scowled as the Mando tried to break free.

Then there was another fierce cry, and Sherev'ath threw herself onto the Mando's back. She wrapped her bare blue legs around his armored waist grabbed his helmet with both hands. The Mando stabbed back with his free saber but he couldn't get a good angle. Sherev'ath tugged the helmet hard and wrenched it off the Mando's face-

-so Arlen could stare into her eyes.

"Buir'shabla jeti!" the black-haired woman snarled. That was when Chance, still on the far side of the room, popped off a single stun-shot that caught her in the side of the neck. Sherev'ath jumped off her and Arlen let go. Her armored body clattered to the deck and was still.

-{}-

Unnoticed, unseen, the matte-black wedge of Darth Kheykid's Intruder sat in space outside the frayed edge of the broken moon. He'd watched everything, listened to everything. Two Mandalorian ships had cutoff the Jedi ship before it could escape and chased it deeper inside the tunnels of rock and ice. He waited, watching to see if any ships emerged from that hole or any other. In the end only one Mandalorian starfighter had returned, limping. He listened in to the comm traffic with Mordran Krux's base. There's been a long chase inside the moon, and the surviving ship had lost track of the others. There's been an explosion, and sensor sweeps could find no trace of a surviving ship. The Mandalorian pilot had sounded heavy with defeat.

That wasn't enough for Kheykid. Maybe it was the Force, or his hunter's instinct, but he didn't believe the Jedi was dead.

There was one way to be sure. Using Intruder's directional thrusters he nudged his ship past the rocks drifting low around the dying moon. He pushed it inside the mouth of the tunnels, past the sensor buoys that would never see him.

He began creeping through the tunnels very carefully, very slowly. If he was going to find the Jedi he would take his time. He had to do it right.