At the other end of the base, two men carried a crate between them up the ramp and into the cargo bay of their ship, Watcher's Light.

Wesley Giles, the younger of the two, being in his late twenties, lost his grip on his side of the crate.

"Dammit, Boy, what the hell are you doing?" the other, Trepur Espen, yelled at him, letting go of his end.

Wesley looked up at Espen in annoyance. "Well, you see, I have this goal to crush all my toes before I'm thirty, and I figured, 'Hey, this is a big heavy crate, why not crush them all at once?'"

Espen strode around the crate, eyes blazing. He grabbed the young man by his dark hair, and growled into his ear, "I'm about out of patience for you, Wesley. Now pick up the damn crate, and drag it in the hold yourself." Espen released the other, then marched back down the ramp, and returned to the inside of the base.

"Bitch," Wesley huffed, grabbing the edge of the crate, and pulling it the rest of the way into the Light.

His twin sister, Deanna, looked up at the sound of angry mutterings to one's self and wood scraping metal. "Need a hand, Scruffy?"

"No, I enjoy dragging heavy crates behind me all by myself."

"Oh, okay," she went back to re-wiring the circuits for the forklift.

"I was kidding, Bushroot. Get over here."

"One sec, I think I've got this," Deanna hopped into the driver's seat, and pressed the green button to start the ignition. The engine sputtered before roaring to life.

Wesley turned toward his sister and her triumph, deciding to leave the crate where it was. "I can't believe you fixed that hunk of junk. It's been dead for years!"

"I told you I could!" she grinned.

"Good work," he stepped sideways, then pointed at the crate behind him. "Now you can move that over there," he pointed across the room to four other crates in the corner. "With the other ones."

Deanna drove the forklift toward her brother. It took him a few seconds to realize that she was aiming for him, and not the crate.

"Hey!" he exclaimed in surprise, jumping and rolling to the deck.

She was laughing. "Nice dive."

"That's not funny, Bushroot! You could have killed me!"

"Could've, should've, didn't." she used the arms of the lift to pick up the crate. She maneuvered the vehicle across the cargo hold, then set the crate on the floor. "What's in this one?"

"Just some reusable wires and circuit boards, I think."

"Oh, goody!" she clapped her hands together excitedly.

"Not necessarily for you," Wesley added.

"Of course they are. They always are," she parked the forklift beside the double doors.

Espen and the twins' father, Gerard Giles, ascended the ramp, another crate between them. They carried it to the back of the room, and set it down apart from the others.

"Stay out of this one, Kiddies," Espen said. "It's not for you."

"Why? What's in it?" Wesley meandered over to the crate to see if it was marked in any way.

Giles put his hand on his son's shoulders. "Leave it, Wes."

Wesley backed off, but more because of the look on Espen's face than his father's tone.

"Deanna, prep the ship for take-off. There are only a couple of crates left, we'll be leaving shortly," Giles told his daughter.

She nodded, then headed into the cockpit.

"Do you need my help?" Wesley asked.

"Yeah, one of 'em's fairly light weight," Espen nodded mockingly. "I'm sure you can handle it."

"Shut up, Espen," he shot back.

"Easy you two," Giles led the way back into the base. "We're all on the same side here. Even if it is temporary."

"Good thing."


Park shone the mini-light into the bulkhead. He recognized the remnants of the wires that would return the lights, but there was no way he could cross them to provide illumination.

He fingered the headset he was wearing, then spoke into it, "There is definitely no way I can get the lights working. Not from here, anyway. I'll try another room, but don't get your hopes up."

"What about logs, Park? Where did they keep the logs?" Jenkens asked him, as he replaced the panel over the bulkhead.

"Logs? Like, for fires and stuff?"

"No, dumbass, the record logs."

"Oh, well, how'm I s'posed to know?" Park shot back.

Taggart broke in over the comm, "I've already got them."

"Good," Park said. "Then let's get back to the ship so we can go after Mi." Jenkens snickered. "Shut up."


"Shut up yourself, Espen," Wesley snapped.

"I didn't say nothin'," he growled, shoving the other into the wall.

"Ow!" Wesley righted himself, then leapt onto the bigger man's back, punching him in the back of the head. "I'm tired of you pushing me around, dammit!"


Park heard the skirmish down the hall. "Is that either of you two?" he whispered.

"Not me, I'm almost at the ship," Jenkens stated.

"And I'm at the other end of the station," Taggart replied.

"Then we're not alone," Park clung to the wall as he made his way down the hall, toward the noises.

"Figures," Jenkens muttered.

"Doesn't it, though?"

"Leave them be, Park. Whoever they are, we don't need to meet," Taggart told him.

Park turned the corner, and saw that the larger of the two had the smaller, younger one pinned against the wall, his fingers wrapped tightly around his throat. The pinned man was kicking at the other furiously, trying to struggle free. The big man's face was expressionless.

"Uh, excuse me? I think that guy would appreciate a little air," Park told the other.

Espen slowly turned his head in the newcomer's direction. "Who the hell are you?" he demanded.

"That's one of those things we'll discuss after you put him down."

"Espen, Wesley, where did you two - " Giles entered the scene. "Espen! Get your damned hands off my son!"

Espen threw Wesley to the floor, then stormed back to the Watcher's Light. "Tell him to stay out of my way, Giles, and everything'll work out."

"You learn to deal with it, or you'll be walking back to Coruscant." the old captain shot back.

Park helped Wesley to his feet, as Jenkens stated over the comm that he was almost to his position.

"I don't know who you are, but thank you," Giles held out his hand to Park.

"For what?" Wesley scoffed. "Helping me up?"

Giles gave his son a look, then smiled at the stranger. "You'll have to excuse Wesley, he woke up on the wrong side of the Hyperdrive this morning. Oh wait, he does that every morning," he grinned at the young man.

Wesley narrowed his eyes at his father, but said nothing - though he wanted to.

"My name is Captain Gerard Giles, of the Watcher's Light. And you are?"

"Lieutenant Mortimer Park, of the Angel."

They shook hands. "You're a long way from home, Park. What are you doing all the way out here? Alone, no less."

"Oh, he's not alone," Jenkens cut in. "Unless, of course, me'n Taggart leave him here."

"You'd better not!"

"Bradford Jenkens," he held out his hand.

"Gerard Giles, and my son, Wesley."

Jenkens offered the young man his hand, but received no greeting in return.

"I'll be aboard the Light, Dad."

"Tell your sister we'll be leaving shortly."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm a better pilot than she is." he grumbled.

"If you say so, Wes. Anyway, as you were saying about your mission?" Giles pushed for answers.

"Nevermind about that. We are with the Alliance," Taggart broke into the conversation. "You and your family are scavengers."

Giles recognized that voice. He turned slowly, a smile on his face. Taggart used a mind trick on the man before he could say anything to reveal his former identity. Instead, the Captain turned back to Park and Jenkens, Park being the only one to find this odd.

"We should go. I can watch the logs on our ship while we travel."

"Where are you travelling to?" Giles inquired.

"None of your business."

"I see. Well, I guess I may see you around."

Taggart gazed at the other man intensely for several seconds, before shaking his head. "No, you won't," he then turned from him, and continued back to the ship.

Park and Jenkens said their goodbyes, then followed their crewmate outside.

Giles watched the three leave, curious to know what Taggart had meant. He returned to his own ship, Watcher's Light.


"So, Tag, how do you know that what you need is on those log disks?" Park interrupted the other's thoughts.

"I just do."

"Oh, kinda like you just knew that Giles was going to spoil your b-reakfast?" Park stopped walking, confused by his own words. That was not what he had intended to say, but for some reason, he could not remember what it was he had intended to say.

Jenkens was already aboard, not even listening.

"Park, listen to me," Taggart turned on him. "I want you to stop trying to figure me out. Obviously, if it was important for you to know, I would tell you without hesitation."

"Can I ask you one question?"

"No, I am not a Sith. Or a former Sith. There are more Force-sensitive beings out there than just the Sith. Now, let it go. No more questions, no more prodding."

Park nodded, then ascended the ramp. Jenkens warmed up the engines, eager to get off-world. Taggart sighed, and looked back at the former secret base. A single tear rolled down his cheek. "Helena, I'm sorry I wasn't here when you needed me."

Jenkens flipped on the external speakers. "Come on, Raine. The only thing you can do now is expose that spy so this doesn't happen again."

Taggart went into the ship, just as the Watcher's Light entered the planet's atmosphere.


Meanwhile, several thousand lightyears away, the Angel was under attack. A swarm of TIE fighters had caught them off-guard during one of their skeleton-crew shifts. The TIE's had come out of Hyperspace, lasers firing.

"Shields, forty-five percent," Nordat called to her Captain.

"We can't take another series of shots like those last ones," Breckin stated.

"Yes, Breckin, I am well - " Lindsey's remark was cut off as the Angel lurched.

"Oh my gosh," Nordat breathed. "Captain, I know how they figured out our position. And that we were undercrewed."

"How?"

"Someone onboard sent them a message."

"Someone - ?" Lindsey swept his crew with a disapproving glare.

Breckin's gaze unintentionally fell on Simpson. He quickly looked away before she noticed.

A TIE flew directly toward the Angel, in a game of chicken.

"Captain?" Simpson wanted an order.

"Steady as she goes, Lieutenant," Lindsey stared at the TIE, as if locked in a death glare with the pilot.

Green laser spilled out of the cannons, splashing across the remainder of the Angel's shield.

"Shields five percent," Nordat said. "Lindsey, we have to - "

"Sir, I'm reading - eight homers headed straight at us! Time to impact, fifteen seconds...thirteen..." Simpson counted off.

Breckin plotted a course that would take them out of battle, even if it would not be implemented. "Captain, I suggest we get the hell out of here, while we still have our hyperdrive intact."

"I agree," Nordat spoke up. "Staying here, it's suicide."

"Six...five...f - "

The ship shook in different directions as the homing missiles impacted the hull. The first two took out the shields, leaving the Angel completely exposed. The third, fourth, and fifth hit the engines, leaving the ship dead in space. After the impact of the next three, the lights, sensors, and all things electrical went out.

"We're sitting ducks," Nordat stated.

"I'm detecting several launches. Escape pods, Lindsey. Everyone's leaving," Simpson informed them all, just before her station blinked out.

"TIE's moving to - they're going after the pods!" Nordat had run to the viewport.

"There's nothing we can do for them," the Captain stated. "How many pods were launched?"

"I'm not sure," Simpson shook her head. "There's no way to tell."

Lindsey assigned the other six members of his crewmen to search the ship for survivors, while he, Nordat, Simpson, and Breckin prepped the second shuttle for their escape.

Nordat lagged behind, peering through the windows. "The pods and TIEs are gone."

"They could be on the other side of the ship, and you just can't see them from here," Simpson snapped.

"Come on, you two, we've got a shuttle to get to." Breckin took Simpson's hand in his, leading her away from the plexi-glass.

Nordat followed solemnly. "Do you think that any of the pods got away?"

"We can hope," Lindsey said, unlocking the hangar door.

The four set to work clearing the floor and getting ready for take-off. Nordat ran preliminary checks on the engines, while Breckin plotted their course.

"Where do we want to go?" he asked.

"Whatever's closest. We don't have fuel for a long journey." Lindsey explained.

"If only we knew where those damn fighters went." Simpson muttered.

"That would be helpful, wouldn't it?" Breckin replied, bringing up an interstellar map. After careful calculation, he concluded that Coruscant was a safe bet, but he was assuming they would not encounter any setbacks.

"Isn't there somewhere else, less Imperially populated?" Simpson asked calmly.

"Well," he examined the map again. "We might be able to get to Aria. It's a little bit farther to go, but you're right, Coruscant's a bad idea."

"Where are the others?" Lindsey grumbled, going down the ramp to have a look down the hall.

The ship lurched violently. They could hear steel wrenching lose from steel.

"Captain!" Simpson yelled down the ramp. "We have to get out of here! We're coming apart!"

Lindsey ran to the inner door, and tried to see through the window. All he could make out was smoke, grey billowing smoke, occasionally illuminated by flickers of blue and green light. The Captain raised his fingers to the keypad to enter his passcode.

Simpson grabbed him by the wrist. "Sir, there may be no gravity or pressure. You could destabalize this bay. We have to go, Kane. They're gone: Casualties of war."

The Captain listened to her words, not entirely believing what she was saying. When did Simpson get so decisive?

Another wave of gut-curling metal tearing reached their ears.

Captain Kane Lindsey was forced to make the hardest decision of his life. "Let's go."

The two returned inside the shuttle.

"Take us out," Simpson told Breckin.

He nodded to her. She kissed him for good luck, then sat down and strapped herself into the seat behind him.

Nordat gave the command for the outer doors to open. Breckin maneuvered the shuttle into open space.

"Here goes nothing," he said under his breath.

Lindsey stared sadly as the Angel faded from his view. Even after entering Hyperspace, his eyes remained where his ship had been. He could see from the exterior that the damage was too extensive, it could not be salvaged. Most of the Angel had broken apart, floating freely in space.

He was not sure, but he thought he saw bodies. Floating.

Nordat glanced over her shoulder. Lindsey had been silent since returning to the shuttle. She reached around and patted his knee comfortingly, but he did not take his eyes from the stars streaking past outside.


The doors to Palpatine's office opened for S'Ritak Vedul before he even stepped off the lift. He strode down the corridor, trying to look menacing.

"Stop trying, Vedul. Twi'Leks are not fierce to begin with," the Emperor stated.

"They're just oogly," Caylon grinned at the young Sith.

Vedul narrowed his eyes in annoyance at Caylon. "Is there a reason why you're here?"

"Absolutely. I was just tellin' Sid, here, that both of my sources have relayed a very enthusiastic missions completed."

"That, and he was sucking up." Palpatine rose from his chair. "How is Maul? Angered, I presume?"

"Quite," the apprentice nodded.

Both Sith sensed Darth Maul enter the building.

"Raef, you should go. This could get messy."

"But I thought I was supposed to help. I will protect you with my life, Sire."

"I appreciate that, Raef, I really do," Palpatine hissed. "Now leave." He used the Force to reinforce the command.

"As you wish," Caylon bowed, then departed.

"We have to make this look good." Palpatine raised his arms, calling on the energy he controlled.

Vedul could not mask his surprise, as the first bolt of blue lightning struck him square in the chest.


Darth Maul Force-threw the guard against the wall, not even looking in the man's direction. He was going to the dungeons in the lower levels of the Imperial Palace to free Jareena. Whatever Palpatine was up to, Maul was not about to get left out of the loop.

Four Imperial Guards, in their crimson robes rounded the corner behind the Sith Lord. He turned quickly, grabbing for his lightsabre. He easily deflected the guards' blasts with the glowing blade back at them, striking two, one of whom was killed instantly. The wounded guard's head twisted in an unnatural way. The sound of bone breaking echoed down the corridor.

The remaining two guards continued to fire at Maul, only to have the bolts of electricity deflected harmlessly into the floor or walls. Maul used the Force to strangle one guard, continuing to block the laser fire at the same time. When the guard dropped lifelessly to the floor, the Sith leapt through the air at the final remaining crimson-clad man. He brought the glowing blade down on the guard's skull, slicing it down the centre.

Licking his lips in satisfaction, Maul ran down the stairs to the dungeons.


Lou heard footsteps approaching, and she tried to meld into the wall. After five hours of torture, she just wanted to be left alone. She hoped that whoever it was was bringing her something to eat or drink. Lou was parched, mentally and physically exhausted, and very afraid.

Out of nowhere, Lou hoped the being making his way through the darkness was Darth Maul coming to rescue her.

A shadow passed by, how she noticed it among the other shadows, she was uncertain. The shadow returned, this time stopping in front of the door.

Lou covered her ears to block out the squealing hinges, squeezing her eyes shut. She jumped when a hand touched her shoulder, more from surprise than fear. She accepted the offered hand, and slowly stood.

"Are you alright?" Maul asked quietly.

Lou was surprised to hear the concern in his voice. "I've had better days," she leaned on him for support. "You won't be in trouble for this, will you?"

"No. I believe this to be part of the Emperor's twisted plan."

"What about the boy?"

"S'Ritak was doing what I instructed him to do. I apologize for his misinterpretation of my words. Do you know why the Emperor wanted you here?"

"I...He kept saying something about unleashing my power. I don't know what the old coot's talking about."

Maul groaned. "I think I do."


The two Imperial guards dragged the unconscious body of Maul's apprentice to the elevator, then threw him in. One of them pressed the button for the main floor, while the other checked the silent alarm.

"Let them escape," Palpatine's voice carried down the hall. "But don't make it seem too easy."

The guards nodded in sync, then got on the other elevator.


Vedul came to in the elevator. He sat up, gingerly touching the charred skin on his chest. Closing his eyes, trying to ignore the pain, he summoned his Master through the Force.


"S'Ritak's in trouble," Maul stated, sensing the young Twi'Lek's distress.

"You brought him here? After he clobbered you with a vase? An expensive-looking one at that." Lou scoffed.

"Expensive it was. I'll fix it later."

"How can you - "

"Trust him? He is still my apprentice," he stated, slightly annoyed. "My job is to teach him the ways of the Dark Side. He is only a boy; he is still learning."

"He betrayed you," she stated.

"It was to serve the Emperor, which I told him should always come first."

"Oh really," she exhaled slowly, a sudden pain in her side hindering her movement.

Maul opened the doors with the Force. They stepped out into the cool night air. "I have to go back - "

"I know."

"Stay here, I won't be long," he went back inside for his apprentice.

Lou leaned back against the wall to wait. She wondered which hovercar was Maul's.


Vedul stepped out of the elevator, wondering how long he could maintain his balance. He stumbled several steps, hoping Maul would hurry. He did not notice the group of Imperial guards enter the lobby on his left, all the young Sith's focus on calling his Master.

"S'Ritak!" Maul yelled at the Twi'Lek. Vedul dropped to the floor. He howled in pain, rolling onto his back. Maul ignited both ends of his lightsabre, and attacked the crimson-clad guards.


Lou raised her head, knowing somehow that she was needed. She got up slowly, stood still to get her bearings, then ran inside the Imperial Palace.

The first thing she saw was the unmistakable red glow of Darth Maul's double-bladed lightsabre. He was fighting off a handful of Imperial guards.

Vedul, Maul's apprentice, lay in agony on the floor. She did not get this impression from his physical state; she could feel his pain somehow.

Lou ran to the alien boy. She helped him sit up. "Can you walk?"

"With a certain degree of help, I think so," he answered.

"Good. Come on," she pulled Vedul to his feet, and he put his arm around her shoulders. "Maul!"

The Sith Lord sliced the final guard in half, then jogged toward them. "I thought I - "

"You needed another set of hands," she silenced him.

Maul glared at her, then took the lead to his hovercar.

"What will we do now, Master?"

"Go home, patch you up, pack, then leave. Palpatine's up to something, and if he doesn't want my help, then he will have my opposition."