When Tamar woke up she was on the floor with her legs out in front of her, stun-cuffs around her ankles. Her arms were pinned behind her back and bound at the wrists to the wall. Her beskar'gam sat on the far side of the room, an empty shell, taunting her.

"Welcome back," a voice said from one side. She looked to the right and blinked until her vision focused. It was the Jedi she'd grappled with, though the blue in his hair had been washed away, leaving a natural dark brown. She wondered how long she'd been out for.

"Are we still inside the moon?" she asked.

The Jedi looked at her for about thirty seconds, probably wondering how much to tell. "Yes," he said. "You kind of did a number on our ship."

She didn't apologize. He wasn't expecting it so he went on, "I was about to go EV for some repairs. Once that's done we can, hopefully, get out of here. Unless you've got more pals waiting for us. How many of you are there?"

"Will you believe what I tell you?"

"Probably not," he said. "But I thought I'd give you the chance to tell the truth."

She wasn't sure what to tell, wasn't sure how well this Jedi could read her mind. She'd never been this close to a real one before. Her grandfather had been good at intuiting her feelings and detecting lies, even small ones. A trained knight would be better.

"Just three, including me," she said.

"And who sent you here?"

She had a feeling he knew, so she admitted, "Savyar."

"Why?"

"Because she'd heard a Jedi was coming to investigate Krux. And their connection."

"Which is?"

"You know all this already, don't you?"

"I want you to say it."

"She sells him glitterstim. He distributes."

"Where did that glitterstim come from?"

"I have no idea. I didn't even know about the deal until right before we were sent. We're mercenaries. The people who employee us never trust enough to let us in on all their secrets."

It was the simple truth, and the Jedi seemed to accept that. His severe expression didn't relax. He asked, "Where'd you get those lightsabers?"

Ah. She understood now. Mandalorians were famously fond of trophies; he thought she'd killed one of his comrades and taken them.

"Nobody you know," she said. "I promise."

He stared hard at her, maybe searched her with the Force for honesty. When it was clear he wanted more she said, "I got them from my ba'buir. My grandfather."

"And where'd he get them?"

"His mother was a Jedi. In the Old Republic."

Something softened his face. With a touch of curiosity he said, "Is that so? You must have been very close to your grandfather if he gave you both these lightsabers."

"He gave me one of them." She couldn't keep the hurt from her voice.

"You have both now."

"He gave the other to my dead vod."

She hadn't been fishing for sympathy, but his face softened a little more. "I lost my brother too."

That took her by surprise. "My sister. The word… it works for both."

"Oh, right. I forgot."

She blinked. "How did you know in the first place? You're an-"

"Arreti, right?"

"Arueti."

"Close enough."

Now she was curious. "How did you know that word?"

The Jedi smirked. "What's your name?"

She looked at him carefully. "You first."

"I'm not the one in stun-cuffs. We'll trade but I want yours first."

"Tamar. Tamar Skirata."

"Ah." He shook his head. "Unbelievable."

"What does that mean?"

"My name is Arlen Fel. My mother is Jaina Solo Fel. Ever heard of her?"

Tamar had. Her grandfather has talked of her. He'd never expressed much fondness for Jedi as a whole, but he'd had a soft spot for the Solo woman. They'd encountered each other several times and developed a relationship that was close without being friendship exactly. He said that until he'd met Jaina he'd pushed the Force away like it was some unlucky disease he'd inherited, at best a tool to be used sparingly. Jaina had shown him it was much more than that.

"They call her the Sword of the Jedi."

"Called. They haven't done it since before I was born. It's something she'd tried really hard to put behind her."

"You may have heard about my ba'buir, then," she admitted. "They called him Kad'ika. Little sword."

"I heard bits and pieces. Did he teach you about the Force? He must have if he gave you a lightsaber."

"He didn't, not really. I never learned for to open jars with my mind. You probably noticed I'm not an expert with a lightsaber."

"I did, yes," he nodded. Her little lie seemed to have slipped past. "Tell me… How did you vod die?"

"You really want to know?"

"I do." It sounded like earnest curiosity, maybe a touch of empathy. That was likely to go away soon.

"You first," she said.

Arlen smiled grimly. "Okay, then. My brother was at Karfeddion."

It took her a moment to think of something to say to that. "I didn't know Jedi were at Karfeddion."

"Davek never had the Force. Not a bit. He was a crewman on an Imperial warship that got ripped open by that Vong monstrosity. Now it's your turn. What happened to your sister?"

She considered lying, but there was no way it would pass unnoticed. There was no way to hide the anger that smoldered in her heart every time she thought about Nyal. "She was killed. By Jedi."

That seemed to surprise him. "How?"

"She was part of a team guarding Savyar. A Jedi assassin tried to kill her and Nyal died defending her."

He exhaled; his face went sorrowful. "I'm sorry about your sister, I really am, but that was no assassin. That was my cousin, an apprentice. And Savyar's not what you think she is. Jade was defending herself. She and her friends barely escaped. One of the strongest masters in the Jedi Order died so they could get off Varadan."

Tamar frowned. "Varadan? No, this isn't about Varadan. This is about the first time your people attacked Savyar, on her corvette."

"What are you talking about?"

"You sent an assassin. He raided Savyar's corvette. He killed a dozen guards and five Mandalorians, including Nyal."

"Wait, wait. When was this?"

"It was before the so-called peace talks on Yag'Dhul even started. Did you Jedi kill Moran Gnoll too?"

"Wait a karking minute. We never figured out who killed Gnoll and we definitely didn't send any assassin after Savyar."

"Are you sure? Do you know everything that's going on in the Jedi Order?" She tried to sound sharp and mocking, but her mind reeled with doubt. She sure as all hells didn't know what Gevern Auchs knew or didn't know; she knew even less about Savyar's final goals.

But Arlen said, without a waver of doubt, "Ben Skywalker would have never condoned an assassination attempt on Savyar right before the start of peace talks. Whoever killed your sister, it was not a Jedi."

That had been her first instinct when she'd seen what was left of Nyal; after seeing the scars across Savyar's face she'd tipped in the other direction. Now she was more unsure than ever.

"Can you feel me in the Force?" Arlen leaned forward. "Can you feel that I'm telling the truth?"

"My powers aren't strong enough, not even close," she lied. He was blazing open honesty like a star. She didn't know what that meant, didn't know what to think.

Then Arlen said, "You're working for the Sith."

She looked at him and he looked at her and it seemed to take forever for pieces to start clicking inside her mind. She asked, "Is this what your cousin told you?"

"That's right. You saw what she'd capable of at Karfeddion. Does that really surprise you?"

She licked dry lips. "Mandalorians… We have a saying. Jedi and Sith are two sides of the same coin, only the Sith pay better. And that coin never stops spinning." Her ba'buir had also said that sometimes you had to pick one side and stick with it. He'd picked a side once, Jaina Solo's side.

"You don't believe that," Arlen said.

"Stop reading my mind," she scowled.

"I didn't have to. It was all over your face."

She turned away, as though she could hide from him. "Don't you have a ship to repair?"

"I do, actually. I need to get to it." He stood up. "Stay here a while. Maybe you should think about who you really want to work for."

"I'm what I was born to be, jeti, just like you. Our sides have never been very compatible."

"But they can be sometimes. We both know that. Think it over. You've got a little time."

"Am I just going to stay here?"

"If you need something just raise your voice. This room has an open comm line to the cockpit. Chance just might help you."

With that he walked out of the room, leaving her alone with too many thoughts.

-{}-

The interior of Tolomen's shattered moon was a maze of tunnels, stretched-out crevasses, widened cracks, and closing walls of stone and ice. The frozen water in particular crippled heat-based sensors, even the sophisticated weapons aboard Darth Kheykid's Intruder. As a result the Sith had to creep through the maze, scouring every part of with the Force as well as with his sensors. The process took hours of wandering, and eventually it was the Force that led him to his prey. All the while he kept Intruder's headlights off and navigated by his sensors and the night-vision display on his flight helmet visor. It would be useless to find his quarry and flush them out at the same. They needed to die within their hiding place.

He tried to focus on the living beings he felt deep within the labyrinth, at the same time shielding his intrusion from the Jedi among them. It only slowed his approach, but he knew when he was near and he sensed no alarm from those he was tracking. Intruder passed into a large open cavern with walls made from thick spears of ice. His heat-sensors were useless but he found them when he scanned for artificial metallic compounds.

He used Intruder's direction repulsors to give the ship a tiny kick. It drifted slowly toward the target; from his night-vision he could see it was tucked inside a wide crack in the ice-wall. He risked reaching out with the Force once more. Multiple living beings inside; four, he thought. Every mind hummed with sub-surface anxiety but no panic. They didn't now he was here.

Kheykid checked his weapons. Intruder's laser cannons were on stand-by. In this dense space concussion missiles would probably collapse the whole cavern and destroy them all. Kheykid wasn't ready to die just to kill this Jedi, so the lasers would have to do. He took aim and armed them. It would take only seconds for them to warm and fire.

-{}-

The one upside to going EV was that Arlen was able to see the full damage done to his ship with his own eyes. It looked bad, to be sure, but most of that was black carbon scoring rather than actual critical damage. The replacements he'd needed to make had been smaller pieces, the kind he'd had room to keep in reserve in Champion's cargo room. That was lucky; if that Mando woman they had locked up had been just a slightly better shot, they'd never be able to get out of here.

He wasn't sure what to make of that one. Of all the Mandos to chase them into a shattered moon it seemed incredible that it would be the great-granddaughter of a Jedi, granddaughter of someone his mother had known. Then again, maybe not; her boss might have sent her for that very reason. He may have thought that to catch a Force-user you have to use a Force-user, which would mean Tamar Skirata had more training than she'd let on. That wouldn't surprise him; she was clearly hiding things. She was definitely untrustworthy. Also sort of attractive once you got past the scowl and too-tough Mando act, but now wasn't the time for that.

Once he looked over the repairs one more time he started crawling, hands and feet, over Champion's exterior toward the airlock. When he was almost there he froze. He felt something probing in the back of his mind that filled him with dread.

Without even knowing why he tapped on his comm and said, "Chance, you there? In the cockpit?"

"Standing by," his friend said. "You fixed things up?"

"Yes, but… Do you have any unusual energy readings? Any sign of another ship?"

"Don't think so. I can fire up active sensors."

"Do it." Still clinging to the hull, Arlen looked out. There was no light in this cavern except the tiny bit spilling out from the cockpit viewport. It was all blackness beyond. A ship would have been visible by some running lights and glow from its thrusters. The feeling of danger wouldn't go away, though. If anything it was getting stronger, surging fast.

"Chance!" he called. "Shields up! Now!"

"What-"

"Do it! Now! Now! Now!"

Red light exploded in the darkness. Arlen froze there, clinging to the ship, watching it lance toward them. The split-second seemed to last forever, and then the plasma volley splattered across Champion's energy shields.

"Arlen, what the hell is going on?" Chance shouted in his ear. "I can't see a ship out there!"

"Just keep those shields up and warm engines and guns! I'm coming in!"

-{}-

Kheykid hissed inside his helmet. The damned Jedi had sensed him after all. The ship was still wedged in the crack in the ice but its systems were warming up. They seemed to be using only energy shields; he could still use missiles but it would surely collapse the entire cavern and he wasn't ready to die yet. With ice on all sides but one they'd be able to shunt all shield energy to the narrow vector Kheykid would be firing from also; he had no chance of wearing down their defenses before they could make a run for it. After that it would be a chase; normally he could trust his ability to hunt the prey to exhaustion but he'd never had to chase a Jedi Knight before.

Only one thing for it, then. Kheykid hurriedly checked over his flight suit, then sealed it for the vacuum. He scampered out of the cockpit to the airlock. Oxygen hissed into the vacuum as he pushed the hatch open.

There was no time to hesitate. He threw himself out across the void. The Force guided his trajectory and he flew fast toward the hull of the Jedi vessel. He called on the Force again to slow his landing and soften his impact. As he got closer he saw a single figure in a gray vac suit scampering for what looked like an airlock.

Suddenly the figure stopped. The Jedi turned and looked right at Kheykid as he fell out of the blackness.

At least, the Sith thought, he'd get the hard part done first.

He hit the hull with hands and feet. He quickly magnetized the soles of his boots and, using his tail to balance, straightened himself to face the Jedi. His opponent already had a lightsaber in hand. Its white-gold blade shimmered soundlessly, reflecting off the curve of his helmet visor.

Kheykid stretched out his arms and triggered the half-meter red blades that stretched out from above each wrist. He could feel just a bit of shock from the Jedi; he'd never seen weapons like these.

Before the surprise could wear off, Kheykid lunged. The Jedi blocked one blade and barely jumped back from the other. His movement was sluggish in his vac suit but so was Kheyid's. The Barabel bent his body so his spine was straight from neck to tail-tip. He charged again, attacking the Jedi from below. He barely blocked one attack; he twisted away from another but Kheykid's blade slid through the edge of his suit. Oxygen escaped through the torn fabric. He felt the Jedi's panic; with just that tiny tear, he had minutes before he ran out of air or froze.

Then the Jedi released the magnetic clamps on his boots and pushed off. He tumbled away from the ship, away from Kheykid, until he landed feet-first on the thick sheet of ice directly above them.

Kheykid craned his neck all the way back just to see the Jedi. He snarled, released the clamps to his own boots, and threw himself after his prey.

-{}-

It was either dumb luck or the Force with a weird sense of humor: the fighting started just after Tamar had convinced Krux's escaped Twi'lek slave- wearing a lumpy vac suit instead of the almost-nothing she'd had on before- to let her use the 'fresher. That hadn't gained her much; her arms were still pinned behind her back but at least they unchained her ankles so she could walk down the corridor. The Twi'lek- Sherev'ath, Tamar recalled- had a blaster pistol and she stayed exactly three paces behind Tamar, just out of range of a quick backward kick. Whether the kid knew how to use the pistol didn't matter; at this range a twitch of the trigger-finger would be enough to drop Tamar again.

She was thinking about trying something anyway when the ship started shaking. She and Sherev'ath both shouted, almost at once, "Are we under attack?" Their response was the one called Chance swearing from the cockpit.

Tamar and Sherev'ath both staggered down the hall to find him. Chance's hands were dancing over the consoled, firing up one system after another as he shouted into the comlink, "Arlen, what is it? Who is it?"

A voice scratched over line, saying, "Use cameras- Karking- Damned Sith!"

"A Sith!" Tamar gaped. Chance looked back and noticed them in the doorway for the first time.

"Sit down, both of you!" He snapped and looked back at the console. "Right, exterior cams… I know it's one of these… Here we go!"

A viewscreen lit up at the co-pilot's station. All three of them hunched over it. The shot was small and blurry but there it was: one figure in a vac suit with a lightsaber in hand. The other had a long tail, a long-headed helmet, and two shorter light-blades jutting out of its wrists. It was using them to make fast thrusts at Arlen's chest, like it was trying to jab through the ribcage from either side.

Like wounds she'd seen on the dead on Savyar's corvette, Tamar thought.

That meant nothing in itself, nothing for sure. But Arlen hadn't been lying. There were Sith involved in this.

The Sith landed a close blow. At first it looked like Arlen skipped away from it but then he called to the cockpit, voice distraught, "Her tore my suit! I'm losing oxygen! Stang, I'm losing heat too!"

"Get to the airlock!" Chance called. "Hurry!"

"Can't get past him. I'll get clear. Chance, fire the engines, get the hell out of here! And blow up his ship if you can!"

"I'm not leaving you!"

"Too late," Arlen said, and they watched on the viewscreen as he kicked off from the ship's hull and tumbled toward the ice-wall above them.

That Sith would go after Arlen, and then it would come for them. Its goal was to kill them all. Tamar could feel that thing radiating ruthless, murderous intent in the Force.

It felt like an echo of what she'd felt in the chamber where Nyal had died. No, that was the echo. This was the source.

She didn't know. She couldn't be sure. She wasn't a Jedi or anything close but she knew what she felt and what her gut said right now. And she knew what Kad'ba'buir had said. Jedi and Sith were two side of the same coin but sometimes you had to pick a side and stick with it.

"Let me go," she said at once. Chance and Sherev'ath stared. She rattled the cuffs behind her back. "Let me get my sabers and beskar! It's our only chance!"

"Lady, you're nuts," Chance said. "For all I know you're working with that thing!"

There wasn't any time for rational debate. The Force came to her like it did in moments of desperate need. She looked at the pistol holstered at Chance's belt, grabbed it with her mind, and flung it out of the cockpit. It stole their attention as it flew down the hall; she spun on one heel and delivered a sharp kick right to Chance's face. He fell back against the console. The Twi'lek girl tried to lunge for the pistol but Tamar rammed her shoulder-first into the wall. Even with her wrists bound she could twist and snap an elbow into the girl's gut, doubling her over. After that a knee snapped to her forehead and dropped her.

Chance was still staggering to his senses. Tamar used the Force to shove him back again and this time he stayed down. In the fracas things had been knocked to the floor and in an instant she saw the open case and the two lightsabers that had spilled from it.

Perfect.

She called one saber to the hands behind her back. She took a moment to make sure the grip felt right, then squeezed the trigger. Very, very carefully she held her arms out and tipped the blade back until it burned through the cable binding her wrists.

Then, free at last, Tamar grabbed her other saber and sprinted for her armor.

-{}-

There was no way Arlen could win this. He only had minutes before his air was completely gone and the biting vacuum cold was already seeping in through the cut in his side. He'd already told Chance to give up on him and run but the damn fool wasn't going; Champ hadn't even budged. His idiot friends were still thinking of ways to save him.

He needed to give the more time. They clashed sabers, skidding and slipping across the ice, sometimes pushing away but reeling themselves back toward one another in the Force. Escape was no option for either of them; they both knew it was a battle to the death. Arlen threw everything he had to this desperate duel, just as the monster he was fighting gave everything. They were both taken by surprise when a third body came shooting up from Champion like a missile and slammed into the Sith boots-first.

The Sith fell back as Tamar Skirata impacted on his chest-plates. She lost balance and went skidding across the ice; Arlen grabbed her with the Force, steadied her so she could find purchase. The Sith was rising too and for the first time Arlen could sense shock and fear from it in the Force.

Tamar hefted both sabers in her hands and shifted into a basic defensive pose. The Sith seemed to hesitate between them; then it lunged for the newcomer. Even with two blades against two the Mando woman couldn't hold her own against the Sith for long. Arlen knew they couldn't drag this out; he had less than two minutes before either the cold or hypoxia would get him. He had to end it now.

The Sith- a Barabel, maybe- lashed its tail back and forth as if to dissuade Arlen from a rear attack even as it pounded Tamar's blades with its own. Arlen charged in anyway but he went low, dragged his saber through the ice at their feet, leaving a steaming seam behind him. The Sith sensed his approached; it spun fast on its heel and slammed its tail into Tamar's side before she could react. It lunged at Arlen, blades-first, but the Jedi ducked and rolled. The Sith's red weapon carved deeper into the ice, heating it, sending cracks fanning out from the ones already cut.

Arlen reached out with the Force and felt the sudden heat burgeoning against the ice, all the cracks, like shatter-lines running through a block of glass. He found a point deep below the Sith where many cracks converged, and with the Force he pushed those pieces apart.

The Sith started for them again. It took two long strides before the ice beneath it exploded outward. Shard of frozen water went tumbling out into the vast black cavern beyond and the Sith went spinning too. The dark star of its flailing body was still visible; it suddenly froze, suspended in the vacuum, then started to grow larger, as the Sith used the Force to reel itself in.

Then a chain of laser-blasts shot out from behind Arlen, speared the Sith in the chest, and sent it tumbling away once more. The Jedi turned. Tamar lowered her rifle and stabbed a hand at the ship. Arlen ran up to the Mandalorian, grabbed her armored waist with one arm, and used the Force to throw both of them across the gap, right for Champion's airlock.

They tumbled inside once the hatch opened. As soon as it was closed, air hissed into the decompression chamber and they began dismantling their vacuum gear.

"I just saved your life your osikla shebs you shabuire jeti," Tamar panted as she pulled off her helmet and shook black hair loose. "A little thanks?"

"Mom always said Mandos were good at swears." Arlen breathed. "But you're right, thanks. Now we need to get the shab out of here."

He left Tamar in the airlock and ran for the cockpit. By the time he got there, Chance was already in the co-pilot's seat and running checks.

"How's the Mando?" he asked.

"Wonderful girl. Either I'm going to kill her or I'm starting to like her." Arlen dropped into the pilot's seat.

"I meant how is she? You know, battle damage?"

"Not a scratch. You should invest in beskar." Arlen pulled the levers to fire the thrusters.

"I think her kind's got a monopoly."

"Bad luck for you." Engines rumbled to life, a wonderful sound. Sherev'ath was already strapping into one side; as Tamar staggered into the cockpit he called, "Buckle up! This could get crazy!"

"What are you doing?" asked Tamar as she fell into the one beside the Twi'lek, who glared at her sourly.

"I need to be sure this Sith is dead," Arlen growled as he pushed Starlight Champion out of its hiding place. He fired the headlight on to full. They strobed across the vast cavern, catching a few drifting specks of ice. Finally they found the Sith's vessel: a flying wing, totally without lights, with a black hull made of some anti-reflective metal Arlen had never seen before.

"See any shields on that thing?" Arlen asked. He edged Champion closer to the tunnel leading out of the moon, all the while keeping the Sith ship in view.

Chance scoured the sensors. "I don't think so."

"Good. Load a concussion missile."

He could feel them all staring at him. Tamar said, "You are mir'osik! That'll collapse the whole chamber!"

"That's the idea."

"But the tunnels-" started Sherev'ath.

"This ship is fast and I'm a hell of a pilot. Right, Chance?"

"You'd better be," his friend muttered.

Arlen had been hoping for more bravado, but he'd go with what he got. He brought up his targeting sights, dropped the reticules on the center of the Sith ship, and tapped the trigger.

He didn't stop to see the explosion. He spun Champ nose-over-tail and gunned it for the tunnel mouth. As they plunged up the chute the ice and stone around them trembled and began to break off in chunks. Sherev'ath let out a wail as a falling slab nearly hit them. Arlen wove around the debris, navigating the tunnels half from memory, relying on reflexes and the Force. He put everything else out of his mind and let it all flow through him, guiding his unthinking hand as he wound Champion through one mad turn after another.

By the end of it, the walls had stopped trembling. They soared smoothly out of the last tunnel, past the few tumbling rocks that chased the shattered moon, and out toward the stars.

Tamar sunk back into her seat. "You. Jedi. Absolutely mir'osik."

"You're welcome," Arlen rolled his eyes. "How are the rest of you?"

"Amazingly, I still have my stomach," said Chance, breathless.

"Now what?" asked Sherev'ath. "Where do we go from here?"

Arlen swung them around to face the shattered moon. Even up-close and knowing what lay inside it still looked like a lifeless chunk of rock.

He turned in his seat and looked back at Tamar. "I didn't see any Mando fighters where we docked. That must mean there's a secret place for special visitors, right?"

Her eyes widened in surprise. Chance said, "You want to go back?"

"We came here to find out about Savyar making glitterstim and selling it to Krux. We know she's doing it but we still don't know how."

"I told you all I know," Tamar said defensively.

"And I believe you. But we still need to get what we came here for. We need to have another sit-down with Krux. An honest one this time."

"We're really going back inside?" Sherev'ath said nervously.

"I'm sorry, but we are." Arlen wasn't going to give them the chance to argue. "We'll need you to guide us. And Tamar, show us a place where we can land."

"What if my friends are still there?" she asked coldly.

"Then you'll have to make a choice."

"I'm not one of your jeti pals. I never will be. I am what I was born to be."

"Then you should at least think really hard about who you want to be employed by. I need to talk to Krux. Now show us where we need to go."

-{}-

At this point, Tamar was pretty certain she was the one who was really mir'osik. When she led them to the private landing pads where Krux brought in important persons, neither Dorn's nor Shalk Jeban's Beskad fighters were there, which meant they must have left, gone back Waystation Xesh or wherever Gevern Auchs and Savyar were. That knowledge filled her with relief and dread at the same time.

Whatever happened here, she was on her own.

There had never been a question of getting into Krux's base undetected. They opted instead for a different strategy. When Starlight Champion set down and the landing ramp lowered, the first ones down the ramp were Arlen and Chance. They both had stun cuffs around their wrists and their faces looked sufficiently bruised after a careful application of face-makeup. After them, Sherev'ath stumbled down. She had nothing on except the scant costume she'd fled in and the cable wrapped and knotted around her hands. Finally, Tamar came down with her full faceless beskar'gam on and a blaster pistol in each hand.

Krux's Anx lieutenant was there with a full dozen guards. They all had their blasters drawn, some pointed at the beings in cuffs and some at Tamar.

The Anx was very blunt. "Shouldn't you all be dead?"

"You might have heard that, but you heard wrong," Tamar said.

The Anx looked over the prisoners carefully. "Am I to understand you boarded their ship, overpowered all three of them, and brought them back here?"

"You understand right. They blew up my Beskad but I went EV, got aboard their ship, and took 'em out while they were finishing repairs."

"That's… quite a feat."

"There's a reason Mandos don't work for cheap."

The Anx allowed an ironic smile but he wasn't letting his guard down. "If you succeeded in capturing them and commandeering your ship, why did you bring them here?"

"Hyperdrive's busted. I'll need it fixed. Besides, I figured Krux might want his little slave back, plus a chance to interrogate the others before I give them to Savyar."

"How thoughtful of you. Which one of them is a Jedi?"

She walked up behind Arlen and pistol-whipped him just hard enough that his pained yelp was authentic. "His real name's Arlen Fel. Son of Jagged Fel and Jaina Solo."

"Hey!" Arlen growled. He hadn't expected the pistol-whip and hadn't expected her to spill his real name. The authentic anger, the doubt running through his mind, would sell it.

"And that right there," Tamar gestured with her other pistol, "Is Chance Calrissian, owner of the Tendrando conglomerate."

"How did you-" Chance snarled, then shut his mouth.

Now she had the Anx's attention. He bent his long neck low and looked over both their faces. "You humans all look alike usually, but there does seems to be… a resemblance."

"I figure your boss will want to see them. Best I know Savyar only wants the Jedi, so I might agree to sell Calrissian to Krux, for a fee."

"Not a modest one, I'd imagine."

"Like I said, we don't work cheap."

The Anx was clearly intrigued now, but he said, "One question. If you overpowered and captured a Jedi, what happened to his lightsaber?"

Tamar stepped behind them both. She holstered one pistol and reached into a pouch at her belt now weighted with three of the cylinders. She drew out Arlen's and held it up for them all to see.

"Impressive," the Anx said. "May I see it?"

"How's your grip? I don't trust him not to pull it from your hand with his mind."

"You trust only yourself with it."

"That's the gist."

"All right." The Anx snapped two long fingers. Before Tamar could do anything one guard snapped the tip of his rifle up two centimeters and popped off a single shot. The lightsaber exploded in her hand. Her gauntlets kept her fingers and palm from burning but the heat still stung.

"Shabla aruettii!" she snapped. "You should have warned me!"

"That would have defeated the purpose of surprising you," said the Anx. "All right. I think Master Krux will be willing to see you now."

The Anx led them down more winding corridors, the back route to Krux's office. Arlen was trying to reach out to her in the Force, communicating many things at once: anger at the destruction of his lightsaber, anxiety as to whether this would really work now, doubt as to whether she was on their side at all.

Good, she thought. Keep them all guessing to the end. It was the only way to sell it.

When they arrived in Krux's office the fat Theelin was resting in the chair behind his desk. He waved them inside and said, "Very good. Two guards, stay. Everyone else, leave."

Not even his majordomo questioned his orders. Tamar stayed behind the three captives as they stood manacled in the center of the room. She stepped back close to the door with the two Nikto guards on either flank. She tried to sense if there was anyone behind the false wall; either the observation room was empty of her Force skills weren't good enough. She figured odds went even in either direction.

Krux pushed his body out of the chair and stalked up to the captive. He smacked thick lips and looked them over. "My. I wasn't expecting to see them again. I wasn't expecting to see you either, Miss Mandalorian."

"Nobody ever said we were easy to kill."

"True. Nobody ever said Jedi were easy to capture, but here we are." Thick fingers pinched Arlen's cheeks. "Well. What do you have to say for yourself, Master Fel?"

The Jedi grunted and tried to wrest his head free. Krux chuckled and let him go, then walked past him to Sherev'ath. The Twi'lek girl shivered, from fear or the cold, as Krux loomed over her. His face pinched in a scowl right before he gave her a backhanded slap strong enough to send her collapsing to the ground. Tamar winced under her helmet. The Theelin kicked her as she curled up in a ball on the cold metal floor.

"I give you everything you want, and you betray me? You run off with Jedi scum?" Krux spat on her and looked at Tamar. "Thank you, Miss Mandalorian. I'm going to enjoy killing this one. Guard, give me your vibro-blade."

The guard obeyed without hesitation. He holstered his gun, took a ten-centimeter knife from the sheath at his chest, and took two steps over to Krux. Tamar moved before he could hand it off. She sidestepped, wrapped one forearm around the neck of the guard to her right, and whipped up her blaster pistol. She pointed it right at Krux's head and snapped, "Drop the knife! Now!"

The guard froze. Krux looked honestly confused. "You expect me to spare her? After what she did?"

"Drop the knife, drop the guns. Everything on the floor. Now," Tamar insisted. She tightened her choke hold on the other guard; Arlen had insisted they incapacitate rather than kill but personally she wouldn't mind if the Nikto's trachea snapped.

Krux wasn't having it. He grabbed the knife out of his guard's hand but Arlen was fast. He used the Force to tear it free and hurl it into the wall. Chance rammed the other guard, shoulder into back, while the Jedi used another Force-shove to knock Krux into the chair in the center of the room.

When the guard in the choke hold passed out Tamar dropped him on the floor and used her free hand to fish out the controls for the stun cuffs. Hands freed, Chance quickly transferred his cuffs to the guard and rolled him into a corner. That left only Krux, pinned and helpless, with no backup coming and no alarms sounded. So far so good.

Arlen bent low and helped Sherev'ath up. "I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

"I think so." The Twi'lek girl clutched her bruised ribs. That bruise on her face was going to swell.

"I can't believe this," Krux snarled. "What do you want from me? Are you really a Jedi?"

"What do you think?" Arlen looked at Tamar. "Since you got mine blown up, can I have a replacement?"

"It's not my fault," Tamar grumbled and fished to sabers out of her pouch. She tossed Nyal's to Arlen and added, "You still owe me for saving your osikla shebs, jeti."

"I know what that means and we'll settle accounts later." Arlen thumbed the lightsaber and pointed the blue-white blade at Krux. "All right, let's do this the blunt way. How is Savyar growing the glitterstim?"

His body rippled with laughter. "That's what you want to know! You came all this way for that?"

"We know you're distributing for her," Chance said as he hefted a guard's rifle. "And we know it's a very lucrative arrangement. Good enough to hire an army of Mandos, maybe even enough to rehab an old Vong worldship and turn it into a superweapon."

Krux shook his head fiercely. "I had no idea about that Vong monstrosity! I was appalled! Just like anyone! But business is business and I'm not selling out Savyar."

"Honorable of you," Chance observed.

"Kark honor. This is about credits."

"Credits aren't worth much with a smoking hole in your head," Tamar observed.

Krux looked at her sidelong. "That's not much of a threat. I know what Jedi are like, all moral and righteous. You didn't even kill my guards."

Tamar ignited her lightsaber and pointed another blue-white blade at Krux. "I'm not a Jedi."

Krux laughed, but it was nervous now. His eyes darted from blade-tip to blade-tip and then up at Arlen. "You wouldn't let her kill me."

"Believe me, I am tempted," said Arlen. Tamar could read him in the Force and she certainly did. "But… I think I'll settle for dragging you in the authorities. That should bust your spice racket, and Savyar's cash flow."

"I still have plenty of guards out there. You're not going to be able to fight your way back to your ship if we're dragging me with you."

It was a very valid point, and nobody could think up an immediate rejoinder.

"Kark it, you're all fools!" Krux spat. "We're business partners! That's all! I have no idea how she's making glittsertim! I didn't even ask!"

"You can still give us all your info on her operation," Chance said. "All the shipping schedules, the financial records, all of it you've got stashed on your computer."

"You see, that brings us around to the same place." Krux bore his teeth, defiant. "What are you going to do if I don't? Kill me?"

Tamar was on him. She stuffed one hand over his face, gauntlet in his mouth, muffling any cries as she shoved him and his chair hard across the floor. He tried to bite into her hand but couldn't get through the reinforced fabric of Nyal's gloves. When she'd pushed him behind the desk she loosened her palm off his face and hissed, "Do it. Do it now."

"Go kark yourself you Mando bi-"

She shoved her hand back in his mouth, tapped her lightsaber on, and with one easy flick sliced through his right leg, halfway down the thigh. His boot and everything in it clattered softly to the floor, smoke rising from the cauterized end of the stump. His big body wretched in pain and his teeth dug into her gauntlets; the pressure hurt like all hells but he still couldn't tear through the fabric into flesh.

"Damn it, you're lucky he didn't pass out," Chance swore at her. She felt Arlen sending heavier reproach through the Force but he held his tongue; even in his anger he knew when they were making progress.

Tamar released his face slowly. He was panting hard, face wrenched in pain, and when he spoke it was a whimper. "Please… Let me… Just give me a minute…."

Chance gave him a small data-chip on which to download the information. He plugged it in and they all watched his screen as he started transferring files. Tamar's lightsaber hummed right above his shoulder the entire time and he didn't offer a single protest or complaint until he handed the data-chip back to Chance.

"It's done, you bastards," Krux wheezed. "You've got what you came for. Now get out of here."

They stepped around the desk, edging toward the door. Tamar stayed closest, the tip of her saber still pointed at Krux's chest. "Don't you dare sound the alarm."

"You're going to have to deal with my people any way," he warned. "Maybe you'll fight your way back to your ship, maybe not. Just remember-"

A hail of red laserfire took him in the chest. Tamar spun around to see Sherev'ath right beside her, emptying one round after another into the bloated body in the chair, her mouth wrenched open in a wordless scream of rage. Arlen was the one who grabbed her and wrenched the gun from her hand but by then Krux was already a smoking corpse and the alarm was already going off.

"There goes our head start!" Chance said. "Let's run!"

He slapped the controls to open the false door and fled into the secret hallway. Tamar was right behind and Arlen did his best to drag Sherev'ath along. By the time they got to the main tunnels everything was in chaos. Guards and the base's miss-matched criminal population were all scampering about, none sure what was going on. They got halfway back to the hangar when they heard Krux's Anx majordomo in the hall behind them, shouting for backup.

As laserfire started to whip down the hall at them, Arlen shouted to Tamar. She took his meaning and tossed him the second saber. The first set of blasts pinged off her beskar while the Jedi deflected more shots with two spinning fans of blue-white light.

As they fell back Tamar spotted the Twi'lek girl pulled away from them by the surging crowd. Arlen halted his retreat and called her name. Sherev'ath ducked out of the line of fire and looked back at the Jedi with regret in her eyes. Then she shook her head from side to side and ducked into shadow.

"Sherev'ath!" Arlen shouted and lurched after her, but Tamar grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back.

"She made her choice, jeti! Let's run!"

By the time they reached the hangar Chance was already at Starlight Champion and lowering the ramp. The second they passed through the threshold Tamar slammed the button to close the blast doors. They clamped shut just before their pursuers could pass through and she popped a shot at the control panel, scorching it.

"Won't last 'em long," Arlen told her.

"I'm aware of that." She holstered her gun and held out her hand. "My sabers, Jedi."

He shut off Nyal's and tossed it. "You're not coming with us, are you?"

She looked over her shoulder at a very nice SoroSuub yacht, probably one of Krux's personal carriers. It would probably have onboard security systems, but nothing to stop a fully-armored Mandalorian. "I have people I need to get back to."

"You don't have to serve the Sith."

"What should I be instead, a Jedi?" Something pounded on the door; they would blow it open if they had to. "Give me back the other saber."

"Not yet. Who knows, I might need it." He made a show of hooking it on his belt. "Besides, you do owe me."

"And you owe me for saving your shabla life."

The door started to jerk open from the bottom. She could see boots crowded on the other side and a couple of beings were bending low to snipe from their bellies.

"We'll even things up later, Jedi!" she shouted, and ran for the yacht without looking back.

-{}-

When Starlight Champion sailed away from the broken moon, Chance reported only one ship in pursuit: a SoroSub yacht.

"Think we can hail her?" Arlen asked. He was already plotting courses through hyperspace. As soon as they got free of Tolomen's gravity well he was gone.

"Hold on, I got it," Chance said and tapped the comm console. "This is Starlight Champion hailing… What do you want to call her?"

"It doesn't need a name," Tamar said curtly over the comm. "I just need it to get back to my people."

"And what will you do once you get there?" asked Arlen. He waited half a minute and got no reply. "We still don't know how and where the Sith are brewing up their glitterstim. You should be able to record my comm frequency now, so if you ever want to pass that information along, you know where to call."

"I don't know anything about their glitterstim."

"I'm aware of that, but you're in a better place to find out that I am."

"Don't press me, Jedi."

"Wouldn't dream of it." He snapped his fingers and Chance began working the comm console. "In case you do get curious, we're sending over a full copy of Krux's files to your ship. Might make some reading material for your trip back to your bosses."

That earned a grudging, "Thank you."

"You're welcome. By, if you want your lightsaber back, maybe we can swing another meeting somehow."

He waited for another sharp response and was disappointed when her yacht jumped to hyperspace without sending any, he sighed, settled back into his seat, and saw that Champ, too, was ready to jump.

"You think that'll work?" asked Chance skeptically.

"We'll find out one way or the other." Arlen wasn't especially confident, but a man cold hope. He reached for the hyperspace controls and gripped the lever. "Let's get out of here."

-{}-

The Force was with him, even now. Spinning out of control through the cavern inside the shattered moon, Darth Kheykid had used all his shock and anger and indignation to wrench power from the energy at the heart of the universe. He'd been pulling himself toward Intruder when the Jedi ship fired on it. He'd clung to its black hull and throw up a great wall around himself and the ship, a rage-fueled wall that held back the explosions, the collapsing of the chamber full of stone and ice, the quakes that sent more cracks though the breaking body of the dying moon.

He'd survived, barely. His ship had survived, barely too. But they'd been trapped deep within, blocked off from open space by miles of crumbled rock.

All he could do was use the Force to clear the way, stone by stone.

It took him days to escape. When he finally saw starlight his entire body ached with exhaustion and hunger. Freedom was elation. But when he drifted through the stars the extent of his defeat finally settled into him. He was taken by a hollow feeling first; then that empty space filled with rage.

The Sith spoke highly of the craving for revenge. Kheykid had never understood that until now, understood it in a deep, personal, visceral sense. As he struggled back toward his master, he clung to that craving. The lust to satisfy was reason to live.