A/N: sorry for the delay but chapter seven is finally here! Hopefully, everyone will still enjoy it, and will still want to find out what's going to happen. Yes, Lorelei now finds herself drawn even further into Maul's schemes. Yes, Maul himself begins to realise that those plans might start to unravel... unless he can take drastic measures. And yes, of course, Obi-Wan, Cody, Knox and Domino are still trying to evade the wampa and find some means of contacting the Council...

"What do you mean?"

Lorelei had lost count of the amount of times that she'd asked that question. More than two. Definitely more than two. Maybe closer to five? Whatever it was, she wasn't going to get an answer, and she knew that. That little bead of sweat carved its path down her forehead and soon she tasted salt. Sighing, throwing her hands up in the air, she did her best to round on Maul.

But the Sith was dark and brooding and so very distant. The room was big — it was the throne room — and yet it seemed so small, so suffocating, so insignificant, when Maul was in it. No escape.

She sighed.

There was that same look of confusion, perhaps also even of frustration, in Savage's golden face, and that only made her more afraid. The man was a mountain; she doubted if he was actually — if he had ever even been — a man. He was a Titan, a Juggernaut ready to stand before her and block her path and force her into submission. Wasn't he? With his strength and with Maul's wit… nothing stood a chance.

But Lorelei had a problem; she didn't know that that 'nothing' was.

And it was tearing her up, overwhelming her, and she could think of nothing else. Her mind was heavy and she had to ask.

"What is it?"

Again, silence.

Again, she asked.

"Please, Master. What is it?" she asked, pressed. "I can— I can sense something. It's—" No, she wasn't going to say that it scared her, even if it did. A Sith did not get scared. "It's unsettling."

Maul, though, appeared to somewhat share her sense of alarm, even if he would never reveal any sense of fear, of stress, of upset.

"He is power and he is death and he is destruction," Maul mouthed, gaze not even flitting to her for the slightest of moments.

That sounded promising.

At that moment, she longed for her helmet, to be able to curl up somewhere, to be able to close her eyes as everything happened somewhere distant and overhead, to be able to pretend that none of it was real.

"Brother."

That low, rumbling voice. And it sounded desperate for the first time.

Maul waved a hand.

Savage stepped forward, huge hand curling around the shaft of his lightsaber. He looked ready, and yet Lorelei wondered how ready he was. Then Savage brushed past her, stalked over to the other Zabrak.

"I have never faced him before."

Maul looked at his brother, and he saw the muscles, the uncompromising, uncontrollable, strength, and he still wanted to despair.

"He is not predictable. But he is overconfident."

"Who?"

The question had been unwelcome but Mail knew that he had to answer. He cast his burning gaze over to Lorelei. "My former Master."

She blinked, and with her brow furrowed, she looked away, hating herself for having been so foolish. Of course Maul had a Master. He was good but he had to have been trained. Then again, she reconsidered. She hadn't even thought that the Sith still existed until a few days ago, and she ultimately decided that self-loathing now would be unhelpful.

But that fear was still there. That knowledge that Savage — Savage — felt uneasy, felt unsure, felt afraid of whatever was coming. Whoever.

And that nameless, faceless, unknowable, threat… it was suffocating. She was senseless, knowing only that something was waiting — that someone was coming. It wouldn't be long now.

No.

Not long at all.

The building shook, tumbled, grumbled, and she knew the glass in the windows was seizing up, would break. Her gaze flew around the room, desperate to seek help, latching onto one face, and then another.

But the other faces were dark. Maul and Savage.

Savage's golden skin glistened in the dim light, feet rooted squarely to the ground, jaw firm, face fierce. He, too, looked at his brother, looked to his brother.

But Maul.

Maul was thinking, yet thoughtless. He was pacing; gloved, slender fingers stroked his chin.

"We should—" Lorelei began, aware that her words were falling on deaf ears even before she had spoken them. But she had to say something, and that was all she had.

It's such a strange sensation to know that, all around, the world was ending. The Zabraks didn't seem to care. And it infuriated her.

Fiery eyes caught hers, told her to go before he had spoken.

"Go."

A pause.

"Get out. Now."

There were calls and yells – Mandalorians. There was the rumble of a ship – somewhere – as it landed very close by. There was a feeling, a strength, an undeniable and unknowable sense – the Force. The Dark Side. And it was closing in on them. But not on her. She wasn't wanted. She wasn't important enough. She heard someone whisper... she wasn't a threat.

Running.

She was running, had turned and swept out of the room, out of the hall, out of the throne room, and the corridors seemed so, so dark. There were no Mandalorians. Death Watch was nowhere to be found. Silence was everywhere; in front, behind, it stalked her. Waited.

Lorelei gasped, backed into a wall, the metal cold against her skin. Then she shuddered, reached a pale hand up to her forehead, pressed it, held it. But the pain was searing, hot, uncomfortable. And she needed to get out. Maul was right. It was dangerous. Someone had come, and the Force... it was strong – stronger even than Maul, which terrified her more than she thought it would. This presence, this person, was the Force. Had used it, orchestrated it, was wielding it now.

The floor disappeared underneath her feet as she left the wall and ran.

And ran.

There was that familiar buzz, that crackle, of lightsabers thrust against each other, protecting their masters and wounding their foes. And a cackle of laughter, poisonous and deadly. It wafted, wound its way to her, and Lorelei did not let it take control.

Her legs were trembling now, and her throat had caught, caught on the shards of glass that had been sent flying through the air by explosion after bomb after grenade, caught on the cold air as she forced it into her lungs.

She was breathing again. It felt like mere seconds ago that she had looked at Maul, and Savage, and they had been in the Royal Salon, and she and Savage had sparred. And she could even remember that he had smiled at her. Perhaps she had smoked back at him? It did not feel like mere seconds ago; it was mere seconds ago. And that time had flown in a heartbeat.

As she settled into the ship, after her fingers had pounded furiously on the keypad trying to let herself in, after she had sprinted out of the building, after the bright and blinding sunlight had finished reflecting off the dome of Sundari...

She could remember very little but the run.

Her chest was heaving; her fingers were twitching; her eyes were darting to and fro, as if something new would appear, as if an answer would suddenly make itself known, as if she could wake up and everything would be a dream.

No. A nightmare.

Again, Mandalore's star glistened and glowed and glowered down at her, its beams concentrated by the dome, and the cockpit was beginning to get hot, overwhelmingly hot. She was overcome.

The sounds of distant battle rung again. She couldn't hear it – the ship's engines drowned out everything but her breathing, as she noted ruefully – but she knew it.

When she was younger, she had known of the Force. Everyone did. And her parents had told her about it, told her to be afraid, and then they had been taken or she had been taken... she didn't remember which way round it went. So many stories, so many histories, so many memories. She wondered which of them were hers, and which had been given, gifted, to her by her Mandalorian family.

She caught herself, cursed herself. Stop.

They were her family; they still were. They had found her, and helped her, and taught her everything that she knew. And when they had been visited by those strangers in their strange brown and white robes, by the two Humans, one tall with long grey hair and one shorter and smiling, they had hurried her away.

We've come from Coruscant.

She should've gone.

She would've gone.

If she hadn't been told, been persuaded, been forced, not to. Coruscant is ever so far away. It's capitalist and corrupt and you'll be at the beck and call of the Jedi. You'll fall into destitution and live in the planet's lower levels.

And so she had not gone. She had been brought up on Mandalore. She had been taught to learn their ways. She had been taught to respect their traditions. And she fought. She fought well. But she had had an advantage, the advantage, the Force.

She watched and waited and thought and reflected and... the door to the ship had been opened. The ramp was clanging, vibrating, with footsteps. Metal.

Lorelei turned to look but the Mandalorian sun blinded her, and as she held a hand up to protect her eyes, she saw the Zabrak. His breathing was heavy but not raspy. His eyes were dark but not violent. His lightsaber was hilted and not drawn. There was something else, something more, that she saw in him. She wouldn't let herself look too far but there it was... there was less of him. There was someone missing. And she had sparred with him only moments ago.

"You can fly a ship?"

Lorelei nodded.

"Then do."

She did.

And the shipped heaved itself up, floated still in the bright Mandalorian sun, suffocated by the glass dome that slight to protect the city. And then it lifted up, and up, and the engines fired up, and it was gone.

They were soon in orbit, and Lorelei knew that she was now alone, alone with Maul as he thought and brooded and questioned and sat in silence. It was the silence that irritated her the most, it was the silence that threatened to madden her. It was also the silence that made her breathing — haggard and distressed — all the more noticeable.

The ship's systems beeped at her as if annoyed, and she keyed in a few commands. The console settled, and she sighed, dared herself to cast a weary look over at the Sith.

"Where are we going?"

She needed to know. Maul knew that. He was selfish but he wasn't stupid and he knew that a ship needed a trajectory. With a grunt, he staggered forwards and provided the ship's guidance system with a destination.

The thrusters rumbled and groaned and pulled the ship forwards, its fuselage protesting as its hyperdrive was engaged.

Lorelei watched, quietly, as the stars became streaks of white light, as the pinpricks stretched into shards all around them.

The Mandalorian freighter was old but it was sturdy and despite the creaking and the groaning from the metal, she felt safe.

She also didn't understand the coordinated that Maul had punched in. She wondered if she would've wanted to.

Behind her, leaning against the fuselage, he was watching her with his dark eyes. She had her hand on her forehead, her shoulders were slumped, and he wondered if she might be sleeping.

Then he stepped forwards, and his metal feet clanged against the grating on the floor.

"You asked where we're going?"

Lorelei drew her head up, opened her eyes, but she had not been sleeping. She turned to face him, and was surprised to see him standing so close.

"I did."

"I—" he said and then paused, caught her eye purposefully. "Am going home."

Obi-Wan awoke with a start. Head pounding, heart racing, lightsaber... at his side. As ever. As always. The Jedi looked around sheepishly, saw the Commander's eyes narrowed in his direction. Not annoyance, no. Concern, perhaps.

"Sir, are you-?"

He gave a tight smile, shook his head, heaved himself into a seated position. "I'm quite fine, Cody. A feeling, that's all."

"A feeling?" Cody repeated, raising an eyebrow and almost wishing that he had his helmet on so that his general wouldn't have been able to see how unconvinced he was.

"Yes, a -" Obi-Wan caught himself and smiled again, briefly. "It wasn't anything to do with wampas, of that, I'm sure."

The clone nodded warily. The wampas were long gone. Something had made them leave. Something had disturbed his general, too.

Yet as Obi-Wan got to his feet, dusted the snow off his robes, he couldn't help but think and remember. Someone had been silence, someone powerful and threatening, and Obi-Wan was sure that he could hear the tiny whisper of revenge being carried along on the wind.

He obviously hadn't slept very well. And there it was, that feeling, that sense. And he knew his sense well, very well, and he couldn't ignore it.

No.

Something was wrong. Something had changed. Someone… someone powerful…

But the Jedi cast Cody a rueful smile and the low sunlight stunt his eyes. Shielding them from the brightness, he sighed.

"We ought to get moving. Wampas are territorial and we haven't moved on too far from where we encountered the mother."

The clone nodded, understood. He knew his general, and he certainly knew when he was telling the truth, when that truth was important.

"Come on, lads," he called to Knox and Domino. "We're on the lookout for a more permanent shelter."

Permanent. But only temporary.

Nothing made sense.

But for Obi-Wan, he could still feel that a voice had been silenced, a strength had been overpowered, an enemy had been vanquished. He had no idea which one, though, but he wasn't one to get frustrated.

Biting winds nipped at his face, and he somewhat envied the clones for their sturdy helmets. Nonetheless, he patted his lightsaber and returned to the others to gather up their belongings once more.

It was to be a long march, and the cold breeze and the glaring starlight were unrelenting, punishing.

Snow caught thick and fast underneath Domino's boots and he let out yell when he took a wayward step and ended up being buried up to the knee on one side. Knox flew to his side with a grimace, gloved hands curled tightly around his comrade's arm in an effort to pull him free.

Obi-Wan turned around, went back a few paces.

"Not to worry, Sir," Domino muttered. But his helmet hid only his face and not his voice.

The Jedi raised his hand lightly, concentrated, and the snow around Domino's leg bubbled and spat and then melted, seeping into a little white pool. The clone blinked, hesitated and then pulled his leg free, flexing the muscles and shaking it in an effort to warm himself up.

"Uh, I appreciate it, General," he stammered.

"Be sure to walk a little bit brisket, trooper," Obi-Wan said carefully. "You don't want to get frostbite."

No, he didn't.

Already walking ahead, Cody shook his head and smiled. The snow was heavy underneath his feet, and the wind was howling. His helmet was picking up all sorts of codes and warnings, and he sighed. But he knew that listening to them would not help them.

It was cold, he knew that. He didn't need a load of sensors to tell him that.

They needed to find shelter, which he also knew. And as he squinted and gaze out over the white expanse, he saw nothing. The wampa's cries sounded out once more in the distance, and those owls returned and circled somewhere up ahead.

Owls.

He frowned. Then he turned around, waved over Obi-Wan, who jogged over.

"What is it, Cody?" the Jedi asked.

Cody took off his helmet and nodded over to where the faint figures of the owls could be seen on the horizon.

"Well, Sir," he began. "Birds need nests, don't they?"

The Jedi nodded slowly, raising an eyebrow.

"And there wouldn't be any in the snow. It maybe… maybe there would be over there. There could be vegetation, or at the very least, a cave system."

Obi-Wan grinned, allowing his hand to leave his lightsaber on his belt.

"I have heard of owls that burrow on Hoth," he said. "But perhaps they're quite rare," he then added before Cody could say anything further.

They trudged on, and felt much better now that they had a clear route, a path that was poised to be successful. The blizzard was at last showing signs of slowing down, and the calls of the wampa sounded quieter and quieter, until they could hear them no more.

Knox gasped as they reached the horizon. There were no trees. But there was smoke.

"A settlement could be nearby," Domino said, coming to stand beside Knox.

Cody threw them a glance. "Don't get carried away, boys."

Obi-Wan nodded. "Horizons are tricky — you get to one, and then another one appears. That smoke is at least another day's trek away. We should rest here."

Cody told the two clones to unload the luggage, and the emergency tent was soon up, billowing in the winds.

As the storm buffeted the tent's fragile walls, the Commander attempted to get comfortable.

Obi-Wan caught sight of him, frowned. "I suggest you get some sleep, Commander."

Cody nodded. "I am trying to, General."

Then, with a sigh, he crossed one leg over the other, leaned back against the fabric of the tent, and closed his eyes.

The Jedi watched him briefly, and the he turned away, watched as the shadow of snow carried on falling beyond the confines of the tent. Knox snored, Domino lay silently a little bit further away.

And Obi-Wan could not sleep. He had been stranded in missions before. But not when he knew that he had to be somewhere else. This time, it was different.