Chapter 10

Callista recalled what she had told Leia about Ilios and Cerante, how the two Jedi students had gotten into an extremely violent fight. Back then, when she had still been a young novice under the instruction of Djinn Altis, she had not known much in the way of hand-to-hand combat. But in their fight, she had seen a lot of punching and kicking...
Armenia began the fight with a left jab for the neck. Callista moved both hands up to deflect it, and realized too late that it had been a feint. Almost immediately, she felt Armenia's foot hit her in the temple, knocking her off-balance and against one of the poles that surrounded them. She nearly fell to her knees, but she held herself steady. Don't fall! she commanded herself. Do..not...fall...
The cheers of the audience grew louder in her ears, and she was surprised that she wasn't deaf by now. Trying to shake the nausea and disorientation in her head, she looked up to see Armenia come in for a second blow. And then she remembered what Cerante had done. A kick to the gut had managed to take Ilios's breath away for a precious few seconds before...
Moving with incredible speed, Callista shot forth and shoved with the palm of her hand, hitting Armenia in the breast with just enough strength to push her back a step or two. As she tried to regain her balance--almost on the edge of hitting the ground--Callista snapped a powerful front-kick into her opponent's stomach.
A gasp of unexpected pain escaped Armenia's mouth as she staggered back, trying to breathe again. Within seconds, she had recovered--far too quick for Callista to continue her attack. The two women circled each other, slowly, like two sand panthers stalking each other. The yelling and screaming from the spectators droned on, a mix between cheering for Armenia and booing for Callista, surrounding them, almost distracting Callista from her opponent.
Then Armenia attacked, first a kick to the knee, followed by a backhand. Apparently, she had spent a lot of time fighting. Callista successfully evaded the two blows, and the combatants were joined. Both threw as many punches and kicks as they could, neither managing to knock down the other for now. Callista kept thinking back to what Djinn had taught her.
She silently thanked the old Jedi Master for showing her how to fight with her bare hands, when she didn't have a lightsaber available. Callista used her elbow to knock a blow to the ribs away, and made an attempt to slam it into Armenia's breastbone. The Kerash woman shot her hand up, effortlessly blocking it. Her knee suddenly flew into Callista's chest, sending a river of pain burning through her ribs. Nothing was broken, thank the Force, but it still hurt like hell.
Callista stepped back to regain her strength for a brief second, and threw a blow for the jaw.
Blocked.
Armenia struck again, her fist hitting her squarely in the jaw. Callista tasted blood in her mouth--she must have accidentally bit her tongue from the punch, and hard--but she had no time to spit it out, for Armenia was aiming for a third punch. And she couldn't afford another one. Without even thinking--her only thought to get Armenia away so she could have a chance to recover--Callista kicked out with one foot, connecting cleanly with the gut. Armenia was knocked back a few steps, not nearly enough time for Callista to fully recover. But what little time she had was hopefully enough. Were it not for these detestable rules, Callista could have easily flung Armenia into the far wall of the colosseum with only her mind, and that would have been the end of that. But, seeing that she couldn't... Callista decided not to give Armenia a chance to attack again, and went immediately for the offensive.
She charged forth and executed an impressive high-kick for the head, which would have knocked the other woman down had it connected. But Armenia was more than prepared, and her hand went up to deflect Callista's foot. Callista grunted in frustration--this woman was harder to fight than she had thought--and aimed an elbow for the chest. Again, her blow was proved futile, and Armenia punched her in the face. And again a second time. Callista's vision swam, and she didn't even have time to register what had happened before Armenia reached forth, grabbed her by the shoulders, and rammed her knee as hard as she could into her gut. Once. Twice. A spin, and a kick to the face nearly knocked Callista down. More blood burst from her lips, painting the dirt a dark red.
A burning feeling rose up in Callista's throat, urging her to vomit. Stars exploded in her head, and she almost fell. Keep fighting! Keep fighting, damn you!
"Mommy!" Hope shouted from across the arena, sensing her mother's distress. At the sound of her daughter's high, frightened voice, Callista's strength returned to her. Whether it was the Force or her own fear for her daughter's life, she wasn't sure. But it was enough for her to regain her focus. As she wiped the trickle of blood from her mouth, Armenia swung her elbow forth, intending to hit her square in the neck. Callista sidestepped and blocked the elbow with her arm. She tightened the grip, holding the woman immobile. Her elbow struck the woman in the stomach seconds later, drawing a breathless gasp of pain from her. She elbowed her again, this time in the face. Armenia's head was snapped back, accompanied by a small fountain of blood from her nostrils. Callista, still, holding her by one arm, flipped the woman down, hoping that would send her sprawling to the ground. Somehow, Armenia managed to use the flip to her advantage. With incredible acrobatic skills, she landed safely on her feet, a few steps away from Callista. Not wasting a beat, Callista strode forward--disregarding the crowd's displeasure at seeing the foreigner gain the upper hand--and threw a mighty roundkick.
It struck home with Armenia's face, knocking her to one side, but still not down, as she had hoped. Callista refused to give up. She had the woman right where she wanted her. Just one more blow, and--
--even as she thought this, she swung a punch for the face, hoping that it would be strong enough to knock Armenia down. But, much to her dismay, the woman managed to knock the blow to the right, far away from its target. With one arm, she reached forth, snatched Callista by the neck, and snaked her arm around her throat, cutting off her air supply.
The crowd's boos rapidly changed into cheers again. Several times, Callista heard the words, "Kill her, Armenia! Kill her!" One hand instinctively went up to try to pry the arm loose from her throat, but she knew it would do no good. As the air left her lungs, and she started to choke, Callista used her remaining strength to shove her entire body back. Armenia was taken by surprise, and their added momentum sent them stumbling back into one of the surrounding poles. Armenia's back struck the pole so hard that they both felt it shudder and almost topple down. Her grip on Callista's throat remained on, but not as tight as before.
Perfect, Callista thought, as she brought one elbow back and smashed it as hard as she could into Armenia's gut. The woman was unprepared for the blow, and it hurt. A lot. Her arm lost its grip on her throat, and Callista snatched the woman's arm with both hands, and twisted it back so hard that she almost snapped the bone in half. Armenia let out a high-pitched scream of pain, and fell victim to Callista's elbow, which hit her dead-on in the face, leaving her nose a bloody mess.
With her opponent severely weakened, Callista grabbed her by the arm she had almost broken, and threw her facedown on the ground. Finally, after what seemed like hours of fighting--although, most likely, they had only been battling for ten or so minutes--Callista had Armenia on the ground, right where she wanted her. She felt Armenia try to squirm away, so she snatched her by the other arm and twisted back with all her might, almost dislocating her entire shoulder. The woman cried out as she was held still, unable to do anything more than struggle fruitlessly under Callista's grip. The specators stood from their seats, cursing Callista for her victory. But she ignored them, and held her grip on Armenia. They could curse her, and boo her, and throw rotten food at her for all she cared.
It didn't matter anymore. All that mattered now was that she had succeeded. Slowly, she began counting down to one. "Ten, nine, eight, seven..."
"...six, five, four..." she whispered. By now, the crowd had grown furious with her. Even as Callista counted down, several began throwing more objects at her. Callista tried to ignore, even though a lot of it managed to find its target. Just keep counting down, she thought. Only a few more seconds left until...
Before she could finish her train of thought, a large stone smacked full force into the back of her head. Hard. Almost immediately, a blinding flash of pain exploded in her skull, accompanied by a loud ringing in her ears. Disorientation began to cloud her mind, and as she did so, she released her hold on Armenia.
A second had barely passed before Armenia's fist smashed into her face, breaking open her nose, sending a fresh flow of blood into her already- bleeding mouth. Callista's equilibrium was shot, and Armenia grabbed her by one arm and threw her down across from her, having gained the uppper hand in a matter of seconds. Before Callista could get up--I need to get up she thought. I need to keep fighting--Armenia was sitting on her belly, a fierce snarl on her bloody face.
Without wasting a breath, she punched Callista hard in the face. And again. And again. Amidst the flurry of blows, Callista somehow found the strength to knock Armenia off of her, sending the warrior sprawling back on the ground. Unfortunately, Callista was in so much pain that she couldn't even use this moment to her advantage. Rising weakly to her feet, she turned and face Armenia, who likewise was standing back up, more than willing to continue the fight. The two women were a bleeding mess. Callista noted that one of Armenia's punches had split open a deep gash on her forehead. The other woman's ponytail was long gone, her hair a tangled mess over her shoulders. Both seemed ready to drop, but neither did.
"What's the matter, Callista?" Armenia said, her fists held out in front of her. "You almost had me there. What happened?"
"Your people are what happened," Callista shot back, recalling the stone that had been thrown against her head. "Isn't that cheating?"
Armenia smiled and shook her head. "Who said anything about the audience not interfering?" she pointed out. "Good thing I'm the one they hold in high regard."
The conversation over, the women continued fighting. Callista had still not recovered from her recent wounds, and therefore was unable to go on the offensive. Still, she had enough strength left to evade and block Armenia's numerous blows, although it would not last for much longer. She had to find a way to keep this woman on the ground--and fast. She finally found the opportunity moments later. Armenia spun and delivered a back-kick for the lower portion of the stomach. Callista anticipated the attack and snatched the woman's booted foot in mid-kick, just inches away from her gut, and shoved with all her might. If she was lucky, it would be enough to send the woman stumbling down-- But as before, Armenia was able to turn her fall into a flip that landed her unharmed on her feet. Callista was spent. She had used her last reservoir of strength in that last attack, hoping against hope that it would work.
But she had failed, and now she had almost no fight left in her. Armenia strode forth and sent a roundhouse kick to the face, connecting nicely with Callista's jaw. The blow knocked loose one of her molars, and she cried as out Armenia followed it with a kick to the heel, sweeping her feet off the ground. Callista landed back first on the moon-shaped drawing, staring up at the sky, on the verge of unconsciousness.
"Nice try, Callista," Armenia said as she stood over the downed woman. "Let's see if you can dodge this." As she said this, she leaped high into the air and brought her left fist down, aiming it straight for the chest. The force of the blow was so strong that it could shatter Callista's entire ribcage and pierce her heart. Callista cursed and rolled away with what little energy she had left in her, narrowly avoiding the blow. A mini-storm of dirt flew into the air as Armenia's fist hit the ground, like a small version of the ones you would see on Tatooine. Callista groaned as she slowly rose, wondering why she was even bothering. Armenia had clearly won the battle; she was only delaying the inevitable...
Armenia was upon her in seconds, like a vicious krayt dragon about to swallow a helpless bantha. Callista threw an extremely weak kick, which the woman easily blocked. She knocked her foot aside so hard that Callista was spun around, her back turned to her opponent. That was the worst thing she could ever do in a fight. She felt the Kerash's arm slither around her neck again, tightening. Something hard struck her in the spine--Armenia's elbow. Callista felt an avalanche of pain rip through her back, and for a brief moment, she was horrified that the woman had broken her spine in two. Armenia elbowed her again, hitting the same area twice. Callista doubled over in pain, and was unable to fight as her opponent shoved her forward, across the battle area, and right into another one of the poles.
Her face smacked against the pole first, splitting open a long cut on her chin. She fell to her knees, just wishing that Armenia would get it over with and defeat her as quickly as possible.
But Armenia was not willing to let her go down so easily. As Callista laid there, helpless and bloody, she sent her fist flying into the small of her back, hitting with enough force to bruise. Once, twice, three times she struck her, again and again. Finally, Armenia delivered the killing blow, by sending her knee into Callista's back and pressing, hard as she could. The entire top half of Callista's body was pressed against the pole, and kept tightening. She realized with horror that Armenia was intending to break her spine, to render her incapable of moving.
To paralyze her.
Callista choked as her face and chest was pinned against the pole. She had absolutely no strength left, could not fight anymore. She felt the woman's strong knee press harder and harder against her spinal cord. A few more seconds, and it would give in... Callista's eyes weakly went over to Hope, who watched the gruesome display with horror. Mommy! she heard her call. Don't let her do that to you! Get up and fight her. I know you can...
Not even Hope's sweet words could muster any strength or resolve in Callista. Sadly, she sent a final thought to her daughter. I'm sorry, my dear. I'm sorry I failed you... Suddenly, just as her spine was about to snap in two, Armenia let go. Her knee moved away, as did the pressure on Callista's back. She sank to the ground, curled up in a fetal position, weakened, bloodied, bruised, the pain in her back tremendous, and tired, but still able to move. She managed to find enough strength to look up. Armenia was staring down at her, sneering. "Come on, Callista," she taunted. "Get up. You still have ten seconds left."
Callista's eyes widened as she remembered the ten-second rule. Perhaps if she could somehow get back up, she might be able to win this next round...
Slowly, she rose to one knee.
"Come on, Mommy, get up!" Hope begged. "I know you can!"
"Yeah, Mommy, get up," Armenia said, mocking Hope's voice. "Don't you want to save your precious children from the big, bad Kerash?"
Callista started to get up--Almost there, you can do it--she collapsed back onto her knee. The crowd began to chant, "TEN, NINE, EIGHT, SEVEN..."
"Mommy, come on!" Hope shouted, her voice barely heard due to the chorus of spectators. "Please, Mommy!"
"...SIX, FIVE, FOUR..."
By now, Callista had gotten up on one foot. Almost there, almost there, almost there...
"...THREE, TWO, ONE!!!"
No sooner was the chanting finished did Callista stand up on both feet. The crowd erupted in a series of cheers, having finished the countdown before the foreigner had managed to stand completely up. Armenia was the victor. The Kerash woman shook her head in mock-disappointment.
"Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Sorry, Callista, time's up." At this point, the leader of the Semaj council stood once again. "The winner of the duel is Armenia of the Kerash." The cheers were amplified even more as the victor was announced. Callista stood there, her legs wobbling, about to give in again. She couldn't believe this. She had managed to get back up, and it didn't count because she was behind by one second?
Armenia smiled at her loyal followers before turning back to Callista. "Sorry, dear," was all she said, and her foot shot right into Callista's stomach. Callista bent over, grunting at the unexpected attack. She began to vomit blood from her mouth, just as Armenia delivered the final blow: an extremely powerful front-kick to the mouth that sent Callista flailing back to the ground, soundly defeated. With her opponent permanently down, Armenia faced the audience and held one blood-soaked fist high into the air. "FOR ARAK!" she bellowed at the top of her lungs.
The crowd cheered after her declaration, and soon began chanting, "ARAK! ARAK! ARAK! ARAK! ARAK!" The last thing Callista saw was Hope running toward her before
the world became consumed by the night...

Hope did not even bother to conceal the utter horror she felt as she witnessed the brutal fight between her mother and Armenia draw to a gruesome close. She watched, completely helpless, unable to do anything-- Some Jedi I turned out to be, she thought--as Armenia threw a kick into Mommy's face. Blood spurted in the air, and her mother tottered back, slow, slowly falling to the ground. It was then that Hope started running. Anakin cried out in surprise and called for her to come back. The Kerash warriors joined in, demanding that she stop. She ignored them all, ignored the ear-shattering cheers that resonated through the colosseum as the battle ended, ignored her own conscience, warning her away. All she wanted was her mother.
She ran to Mommy's side, and held her head in her lap, sobs racking her little body. Mommy's face was a mass of blood, lacerations, and torn flesh. It looked as if someone had smashed her against a duracrete wall. She was barely breathing.
"Oh, Mommy..." Hope choked, her tears dripping onto Mommy's face. Mommy's eyes fluttered open, and, despite all the injuries inflicted upon her in the fight, managed a smile for her frightened daughter. "Hope," she whispered, blood still running down her nose and mouth. Hope even saw a trickle of blood puddling in the corner of her left eye. "Hope, I'm so sorry..."
Hope shook her head to quiet her down. "No, Mommy, I'm sorry," she said, releasing everything she had been bottling up ever since her kidnapping. "This is all my fault. If I hadn't went to the Underworld, none of this would've happened. If I could go back in time and..." She sobbed as she kissed Mommy's forehead, over and over again. "Mommy, I'm sorry. I love you. I love you so much."
Mommy smiled as her fingers stroked Hope's hair. "And I love you," she said weakly. Suddenly, several strong hands grabbed at Hope and pulled her away from her mother.
"No!" Hope screamed as she struggled. "Let go of me! I want to see my Mommy!" "Enough!" a voice snapped to one side. Hope turned her head to see Armenia glaring emerald daggers down at her. "You know what happens now, Hope. Your mother lost the fight. Therfore, you and the boy will be taken to the Temple of Arak, where we shall prepare you for the Coming of the Goddess."
"What'll happen to Mommy?" Hope asked fearfully, looking over at her mother's crumpled form. She looked more helpless than she had ever seen her before... Armenia looked over at another Kerash who stood beside her.
"Purify her," she commanded.
The realization quickly slapped Hope in the face, and she struggled against her captors, trying with all her might to get to her Mommy before they hurt. "No! You can't do that to her!"
"Too late," Armenia snapped. "Take her and the boy away."
"Wait!" Mommy cried out as she rose to her hands and knees. "Let me say goodbye to my daughter. Please, I'm begging you--"
"You have no right to ask that!" the white-skinned woman said, as the Kerash took Hope away.
"Hope!" Mommy called out, reaching out with one hand, as if she was calling upon the Force to bring her child back to her. "Please, let me talk to her! Let me say goodbye to her!"
"Mommy!" Hope shrieked, her high-pitched wail completely swallowed up by the din of the audience. She saw Armenia and several other Kerash pick Mommy up and drag her away. She had lost consciousness again, and was unable to fight as they led her out of the arena. Hope tried to squirm free, but her captors were too strong. "Mommy! Mommy, don't leave me! DON'T LEAVE ME! MOMMY! MOMMY!" Something hard smacked into the side of her head, and she fell into darkness.

The dungeon the Kerash had thrown Callista into was dark and foul-smelling, like rotting corpses, and through the dim lighting that permeated through the cracks in the ceiling--for the dungeon was underground--she could just barely make out the outline of several lifeless shapes in the dungeon. Some were sprawled lifelessly on the ground, the skin completely ripped from their bodies; others were chained to the walls, their mouths wide open with frozen terror and agony.
Callista laid her back against the wall of the large room, beginning to feel the aftereffects of the fight. Armenia had given her a pretty bad beating; she was lucky to have survived that. What went wrong for her? Callista had been able to defeat far more powerful enemies in the past. Anya and her band of Nightsisters immediately sprung to mind. Armenia wasn't even Force-sensitive. How could she have bested a Jedi Knight. Even though she was unable to use the Force in the fight, Callista should have been able to win... And that's when it hit her. Her pride had caused her to lose. She remembered the old saying: Pride comes before a fall. She had been so confident in her own abilities, so sure of her victory, that she was unprepared when Armenia had quickly snatched the upper hand. Because of her pride, Hope and Anakin were still prisoners on this planet. No doubt the Kerash had already taken them to Arak's temple, where they would do Force only knows what to them.
Luke, she called out weakly through the Force. Luke, where are you...
But she knew her husband wouldn't hear her. The fight had taken its toll on her, sapped most of her strength, and her message couldn't even get past the outskirts of the system. She had wait for a few more hour, rest for a while, and then--
The door to the dungeon suddenly opened, creating a loud bang that echoed throughout the room. Callista turned her head, still remaining on the ground, to see a trio of guards sauntering her way. All three of them were holding whips.
She suddenly had a bad feeling about this.
Three menacing shadows loomed over her as the guards glared down with predator eyes. "Stand her up," one of them said. The other two obliged, lifting Callista to her feet from under the arms. She made no effort to fight back; it would be useless, and would end her up in a worse situation than before. She faced the leader of the guards, a small flicker of resistance shining in her gray eyes.
"What do you want?" she demanded, her voice slightly slurred.
The guard smiled, exposing yellow-stained teeth. "Armenia has requested that you be purified. This is going to take a while--and really going to hurt."
Callista only nodded, as if accepting this without putting up any resistance. The other two maintained a bruising grip on her arms, holding her as still as a statue. Then, without another word uttered, the leader struck her across the face. The blow hurt, increased by ten times, considering that the man was wearing an armored glove on his hand. Callista's head snapped to her left as a new trail of blood splattered on the wall behind her. Had the guards not been holding her, she would have collapsed and passed out.
Unfortuantely, they were not going to let her get off that easy. And from there, the beating continued. It lasted for over two hours--maybe three; when you're being beaten within an inch of your life, time is meaningless to you. The guards alternated between using their fists to chaining Callista on the wall and slashing their whips across her back, leaving long, bloody gashes crawling up and down her flesh. They stripped her of her torn clothing, making each blow hurt even more. At first, the pain was excruciating.
Callista had never felt this much pain in her life; even her fight with Armenia looked tame in comparison.
Soon, though, her entire body grew numb from the numerous blows she received, and it no longer hurt. Not even the whips that lashed her in the face aroused a reaction from her. Throughout this, she tried to stay strong. She used the Force to sustain herself for as long as possible, which became harder and harder with each passing minute. She thought of Hope, and Anakin, and Luke, her main reasons for continuing to live her life. She clung to thoughts of her family, and how she longed to hold them in her arms again...and that was what kept her alive.
Eventually, after almost an eternity of agony and suffering, a grateful blanket of darkness drove her into oblivion, and Callista knew no more.
The waves of Chad sang sweetly in her ears, as sweet as the songs of the cy'eens that populated the salty oceans. Callista stood on the shore of her home, dressed in a white gown she had never seen before, a cool, soothing wind blowing her hair around her shoulders and back. No trace of the beating she had received from the Kerash showed on her skin. It was as if it had never happened, like it was all just one long nightmare. And she had now just woken up...
"Why am I here?" Callista found herself asking, her voice carrying across the sea. It brought a deep sense of emptiness in her, a feeling she often felt when she had lived here as a child. "Why do I keep coming here?"
"That's for you to decide," a deep, grave voice replied, directly behind her. Callista recognized the voice almost as soon as the words were spoken. It belonged to a man she had not seen for a long time, the man who had trained her to become a Jedi Knight. "Master?" she said, turning to find herself staring into the bearded face of Djinn Altis. "Is that really you?"
Djinn nodded. "It is, my child." With one hand--dry and wrinkled with old age--he stroked the side of her pale cheek. "You look so beautiful, Callista."
"You knew, didn't you?" she suddenly asked, accusation in her voice. "You knew it was Kara who gave me my powers back. And you tried to warn me about it..." She remembered seeing his face in her mirror on Yavin 4, sadness reflecting off his face. That had been such a long time ago...
The Jedi Master sadly nodded, withdrawing his hand. "I knew."
"But...why didn't you tell me?" "The spirits of the dead cannot interfere with the world of the living," Djinn explained, his eyes floating toward the crashing blue waves, bathed in purplish-orange under the evening sky. "Obi-Wan was unable to tell Luke of the true identity of his father. He had to find out for himself. I knew that you would realize the truth sooner or later."
Callista sighed, her hand going up to her forehead, as if she had just acquired a massive headache. "I don't know what to do, Master," she said. "These Kerash...they're so powerful. If they manage to succeed in bringing Arak into our universe, they will have won, and...I just don't know how to stop them."
"Let the Force guide you, my child," Djinn said softly. "Arak is indeed powerful, but everything has a weakness. You just need to find out what the Kerash's weakness is."
"But how can I do that?" Callista demanded. "I'm lost! I need your help, Master..."
"I cannot interefere," Djinn said. "You are a Jedi now, Callista. I have trained you well, and you must now learn to win your own battles. Trust your feelings. Let the light side of the Force flow through you."
He brought his hand up, lightly touching her forehead. "I sense much darkness in you now. If you continue down the road you've already taken, you will become its slave. Everything you have learned will be for naught. How else do you explain these dreams you have been having? Your mother's death? The death of your unborn child? Why do you think this has happened?"
Callista was unable to control her tears as she quietly wept, the truth finally sinking in. "I'm so scared, Master..." she whispered.
Djinn nodded sadly. "I understand that. We all experience fear at some point in our lives. It is what makes us mortal." His hands rested upon her shoulders, lending her silent support. "Look into my eyes, Callista."
She did.
"I know you can do this. You can be strong." And she knew he meant every word he said.
Callista sniffled, the tears drying on her face. "I'm ready," she finally said.
Djinn nodded. "Then you must wake up..."
The dreamscape slowly was consumed by a bright light...

Callista groaned as she awoke, after what seemed like weeks of sleeping. A powerful rush of pain followed immediately afterwards, and she was unable to refrain from gasping. She laid her head back, and ended up striking it against...a pillow? In the dungeon?
Callista's eyes scrutinized her surroundings. She was no longer in the dungeon, but in a small hut. The prison hut she, Hope, and Anakin had been in before her fight with Armenia. The windows were closed, trapping her in a soothing blanket of darkness. She was lying in a hay-stuffed bed, bandages wrapped around her wounds. The pain was still great, but she was no longer bleeding.
"H-How did I get here?" she stammered.
"I brought you here," a young woman said as she entered the hut. "How do you feel?"
Callista moaned. "Like I just got hit by a landspeeder. No, strike that--"
"Well, seeing that you're making jokes now, I would assume that you feel better," the woman said, as she dipped a clean rag into a bowl of water. She looked no more than eighteen or nineteen years old, with a flowing cascade of reddish-brown hair, and almond-shaped blue eyes. "You're lucky to have survived the purification. Few people who undergo it ever do."
"Yeah," Callista snorted. "I feel lucky too."
The woman chuckled as she went over to Callista's side and pressed the wet rag firmly against the cut on her forehead. "There, that'll keep the swelling down," she said.
"I appreciate your helping me," Callista said sincerely, "but you didn't have to." "You're right, I didn't," the girl replied. "But I'm like the doctor here in Semaj. I treat people's wounds--including of the ones who survive the purifying. Would you like something to eat?"
Callista nodded, realizing for the first time that she hadn't eaten in days. "I'll give you some soup as soon as I'm done here. I saw you fighting Armenia. You gave her a pretty good beating...before she turned the tables on you."
"Thanks," Callista replied with a smile. It did feel good when she had had Armenia in that armlock...
"My name is Emna," the girl said as she walked over to a small fire she had made in the hut, where an iron pot was heating over it.
"You just relax and rest. You'll be here for at least a few more days until you're fully recovered." Callista nodded gratefully, and before she knew it, she had fallen asleep again.

Llia stood inside the small hut that she called home, which she had seen for almost a year now. The inside of the hut was unkempt and dirty, and she had not gotten around to cleaning it up. Armenia paced in front of the little girl, two fingers held up to her chin, as if she was deep in thought. Everyone once in a while, her emerald eyes would dart down to Llia, blazing with far more malevolence and anger than any words in the galaxy could convey. Llia was scared, and she had a reason to be. Armenia clearly was not happy with her, for she had not spoken to her ever since she had won the fight in the arena. For the longest amount of time, she stood there, her shoulders hunched, her eyes sunken, flinching every time Armenia made a sudden move, fearful that she would hit her, as she had often done in the past when she was being naughty.
Armenia finally stopped pacing, and turned to face Llia, her face softening up somewhat, as if she was starting to show a little more compassion and understanding toward the little girl.
And struck her acoss the face.
It wasn't a slap, as most parents give their children whenever they misbehaved. This was a full-on punch, as hard as any of the blows she gave Callista in the arena. Llia was thrown back against the wall behind her, trying to relearn how to breathe. She could feel a light trickle of blood seep from both corners of her mouth. She was not going to cry...She was not going to cry...
"It was you who told Skywalker about the right of challenge, wasn't it?" Armenia snapped as she closed in on the vulnernable child, her cape flapping behind her. Llia looked away from her cousin, wishing for the millionth time that her sister was here... She screamed as Armenia snatched a handful of her hair and yanked back to her left. Some of the strands were torn off, causing Llia to start crying. She couldn't help it. She knew she would look stupid in front of Armenia, but a part of her didn't care anymore.
"Answer me when I ask you a question, you worthless little bitch!" the older woman shouted in her face, sending tremors of paralyzing terror through Llia's body. She could feel Armenia's spittle land on her bloodied face, slowly dripping down her chin. But she feared that if she tried to wipe it off, Armenia would only become angrier.
"Yes," she managed to choke out through the tears. "I'm sorry, Armenia. But that was her right!"
Armenia tightened her grip on the girl's hair, eliciting another pained gasp from her. "You are such a fool. You almost ruined everything. Do you have any idea what would have happened if Skywalker had won that fight? We would have had no choice but to free her and the children, thus depriving us of the Bond needed to bring Arak into our world."
Llia thought of little Hope at that moment, the guilt she felt of having gotten her into this mess..."They don't deserve this, Armenia," she said defiantly. "They don't deserve to die!"
Armenia shook her head in disgust. "You still don't understand, do you? To be sacrificed for the good of the Goddess is the highest honor a mortal can aspire to. Hope and Anakin should be proud of themselves. Yes, to bring Arak into our universe requires the death of the Bond, but in the end, everyone will benefit from this. Don't you see that?" Llia didn't want to drag this arguement any further than necessary, so she nodded. "I see," she muttered.
"Good." Armenia released her hold on Llia's hair. "Now, I want you to clean this mess up. And I don't want to see your face again for the rest of the day, do you understand? I am very disappointed in you, Llia. If you so much as look at me, I will personally purify you." Llia nodded again, not even listening. "Understood."
Armenia nodded, and left the hut. Once she was gone, Llia wiped the blood from her mouth, and the tears from her eyes. She was about ready to fall apart. Strong, she kept telling herself. I have to be strong. Armenia's gone too far this time...
Her mind made up, Llia dashed out of the cabin. Making sure the coast was clear--most of the villagers were at the colosseum, witnessing another battle between master and slave--she ran past the guards posted at the front gate and barreled into the jungle that surrounded her village.
She had to get to the Temple of Arak...before it was too late.

Cray had been locked up in her detention cell for far too long. A day or two, at least. Armenia has said that she would melt the droid into scrap within twenty-four hours...and still no one had come. Perhaps they had forgotten about her. Considering that they were most likely preparing for the coming of Arak, she would definitely be pretty low on their list of things to do.
Cray was barely able to bottle up the rage she was feeling at this point. These people--the people she had once been allied with, the people she thought she could trust with her life--had been deceiving her all along. They had her think she was their leader, when in reality, she was nothing more than a pawn in their little game. They had told her she was human, had implanted memories that never even happened. And the memories still felt real. She could still see herself in that cramped escape pod, watching as the Eye of Palpatine exploded into flames and gas, with her lover still trapped inside...
Cray finally let it all out. With a growl of desperation and fury escaping her red lips, she smacked her fist as hard as she could into the cold, dull wall of the room, putting her fist completely through the durasteel, displaying her amazing droid strength. Had she been human, an act like that would have shattered every bone in her hand. And that's when it dawned on her. If all the Kerash were really preparing for the Ritual of the Coming...then that meant no one was left on the Fallen Moon.
Meaning no one was there to watch over her. And that meant no one would notice if she escaped her cell.
Cray sighed and slapped herself on the forehead. "Cray Mingla, you are such an idiot!" she said. She had just spent over forty-eight hours rotting in this room, when she could have easily escaped as soon as they locked her in there. Armenia must have been pretty confident that Cray wouldn't dare make an escape attempt. Either that, or she was just plain dumb. Cray pried her fist loose from the hole in the wall and marched over to the door that led into the corridor of the detention bay. The door was about two or three feet of durasteel, so strong that it was resistant to most blasters. But an HRD was far stronger than any blaster.
Cray allowed herself to smile--it had been a long, long time since she had genuinely smiled, at least since...Oh, wait, that memory wasn't real...--as she kicked one foot against the door, using about half as much power as she had used when hitting the wall. Almost immediately, the door gave in, releasing Cray from her prison at last.
"Perfect!" Cray exclaimed, already forming her next move as she left the room and ran down the long, narrow corridor. She knew she couldn't defeat the Kerash on her own. And Callista needed help.
She would take the Shapeshifter--which was hopefully still in the hangar bay--and find Luke Skywalker as quickly as possible. He and the rest of the Republic needed to know about the Kerash before they became too powerful a threat. And then she remembered: Coruscant had undergone a massive evacuation when she and Callista had left, due to Xizor's unexpected return from the dead. Where would they have gone, then? To the outer edges of the system? It was worth a shot.
Luckily, Cray encountered no resistance between the detention area and the docking bay. Thank the Force for stupid bad guys, she thought whimsically to herself.
When she finally reached her destination--not even out of breath--the Shapeshifter was the only ship remaining, unattended to. This was almost too good to be true. At any moment, Cray was expecting something bad to happen. Like an alarm would go off as soon as she boarded the Shapeshifter. Or Armenia would appear out of nowhere. But nothing happened.
Without missing a beat, Cray dashed across the cavernous chamber with amazingly fast speed and entered the Shapeshifter. She seated herself in the pilot's chair and strapped on her crash webbing. As she powered up the ship's sublight engines, she hoped that Callista was all right.
The Shapeshifter lifted off and soared toward the entrance to the hangar bay. Apparently, the entrance had been sealed shut, preventing any ship from leaving the Fallen Moon. Cray armed the Shapeshifter's weapons and fired several volleys, blasting a hole open that was large enough for the small freighter to slip through. The Shapeshifter soared off into the morning sky, undetected by any of the Kerash.
"So long, suckers!" Cray cheered, as she went into lightspeed.

The small group of Jedi, after traveling for a little over forty minutes in the harsh, humid jungle, stopped within twenty feet of the Imperial base. With Luke leading the group, they took refuge behind a cluster of bushes near the entrance to the outpost, waiting to see if any stormtroopers would arrive and start shooting. Much to their surprise, no one came. "That's odd," Luke said, his eyes fixated on the closed doorway that led into the base. Normally, the Imperials would have been able to detect them five kilometers away. Maybe their post was slacking off... Luke closed his eyes and stretched out with the Force, sending across the entire Imperial base, looking for any signs of life. He was able to feel the life forces of over dozens of various life-forms, small animals that had made their homes inside the enormous complex. But no humans. Something didn't feel right about this.
"The Imperials should have been all over us by now," Kam pointed out, stepping out of his hiding place, now in full view of anything that might be watching. Still, there was no reaction from the base. No stormtroopers, no alarms, no hidden blaster cannons. It was as if the entire base was abandoned.
"I'm going to check it out," Luke said, turning to everyone else gathered there. "Everyone, stay here." The Jedi seemed a bit miffed about his decision--particularly Leanna--but obeyed. Luke stepped from behind the bushes and strode over to the durasteel doorway. He knew that to open it the easy way was to enter the code needed to unlock. But since he didn't know what the code was...
Luke's lightsaber came to life with a snap-hiss, easily cutting through the door. The durasteel melted into slag at the saber's touch, and fell apart within seconds, providing the Jedi Master with a way into the base. A storm of dust burst from the open doorway. Luke shielded his eyes just in time to prevent from being blinded. The dust tasted old and stale in his nostrils, causing him to sneeze. Once it had cleared down, her lowered his arm from his face and peeked into the yawning darkness inside. Even after all the commotion, no one came to engage him. No alarms burst from the speakers that were built into the walls. Just an uncomfortable silence.
Taking a deep breath, Luke stepped into the base. The corridor was dark, like the abandoned streets of the lower levels of Coruscant. The only light came from the sunlight streaming through the open doorway. Dust and cobwebs had collected on the floor and walls, which meant that no one had been inside this base for quite some time. As Luke's eyes scanned the interior of the base, he saw a pair of blaster cannons--now rusted to the core and out of use--built within the ceiling. Had they still been operational, they would have fired upon him as soon as he had cut the door down. Bits and pieces of once-white stormtrooper armor, now grayish-brown, was strewn across the floor like garbage.
Luke's fears were confirmed. The Imperials had abandoned this outpost a long time ago, and obviously never came back. Leanna Kai had been wrong; this base was no longer in use.
Which meant that Boba Fett had never come here after all. Which meant that they wouldn't be able to find him. Which meant that they would never find out where Xizor was...and Callista and Hope. Luke felt his heart sink as the truth finally hit him brutally in the face. He had been lead on a wild goose chase, had wasted his time over nothing. Anger boiled in his blood as he realized that Leanna had misled him...
No, he thought. How could she have known the base was abandoned? Besides, since she obviously has a score to settle with Fett, why would she lie about it? No, this is no one's fault... But what about Callista and Hope? For the first time, Luke noticed how musty and decayed the inside of the base smelled. The stench was so powerful that he felt like he was about to pass out. He needed some fresh air.
As he turned to leave, he felt something warm and wet on his hands. Sweat, he thought as he wiped his hands on his pants, then held them up in the light to see if he had gotten it all off-- --and saw blood streaming from deep wounds in his skin. Luke was barely able to stifle a cry as he stared at his hands, horrified. The scars he had received from his crucifixion on Dathomir had suddenly reopened. Even as he stood there, overcome by a paralyzing rush of fear, blood was slowly trickling into the sleeves of his shirt and to the floor. As he looked up, fire suddenly surrounded him in a fiery circle of death. Red, orange, and yellow flames from the conflagration struck at him from all sides, sending burning waves of pain through his body.
Luke screamed as he fell to his knees, the palms of his hands still oozing blood. And when he looked up, he saw a figure come through the inferno.
Callista.
She gazed down at him with large, sad gray eyes. Luke saw blood streaming down her arms, from her hands as well.
"I'm sorry, Luke," she said in a cold, haunting voice. "I couldn't stop her..." The blood loss finally caught up with him, and Luke fell to the ground, his cheek splitting open as he landed. He barely even felt it as darkness took over his eyes...

"When do you think they'll be back?" Tionne asked as she and Kyp stood outside the Millennium Falcon. The sun shone brightly above them, showering the two Jedi with its merciless heat. Already, both were practically bathing in their own sweat.
Kyp shrugged. "I'm not sure. It'll probably take a while, considering that it's an Imperial base."
"Do you think Fett's with them right now?" Tionne asked, her mother-of- pearl eyes gazing at the outpost far, far away from the Jrinjan Plateau.
"Hopefully," the young man replied. "Are you thirsty?"
Tionne nodded. "Yeah. This place is so hot, it makes Yavin 4 feel as cold as Belsavis."
Kyp chuckled at his friend's joke. "I'll get some water, then. I'll be back in a few minutes." He rushed up the ramp into the Falcon to get the bottle of water he had packed for their trip.
As Tionne waited, she continued staring at the faraway base. For some reason, she wasn't able to sense anyone inside the base--
The tip of a blaster rifle suddenly poked her hard in the back, causing Tionne to yelp in surprise. "Don't move."

Leia had chosen the uninhabited world of Knossos for the meeting between the Verpine Hive Queen and the Barabel king. It would take place in the war room of the Galactic Voyager, where the peace treaty would hopefully be signed. If Leia did everything right, it should be easy. However, she was aware of the enormous risk she was taking. Having the leaders of both warring races in the same room could mean disaster for one or both sides. And that would only serve to escalate the war between the Verpines and the Barabels. But she knew she also had an advantage. The Barabels held a high amount of respect for Jedi Knights. And seeing that Leia was Force-sensitive, the king of Barab 1--the Barabel homeworld--would not dare do anything hostile in her presence.
At least, she hoped not. Shortly after meeting with the Hive Queen on Taragoth, Leia had contacted Mornoch, the leader of the Barabel race, and asked for him to meet with the Verpine Queen and end this pointless war once and for all. As expected, Mornoch was none too happy about it, and it took a good amount of convincing from Leia, but he finally gave in and arrived on the Galactic Voyager on his own personal ship. He would arrive at the war room within minutes.
As she waited for King Mornoch to arrive, she stood next to Han--their hands intertwined, showing their deep love and caring for each other--as they viewed the planet of Knosses through the massive viewport in the war room. The Hive Queen sat at the large, circular table in the middle of the chamber, where the commanders of the New Republic fleet would often meet to discuss battle strategies, slurping a bowl of fish-frogs through her mandibles.
Knossos was such a beautiful world, Leia observed. It was small, smaller than even Yavin 4, and mostly consisted of greenish-purple plains and blue oceans. The weather was always pleasant, never too hot or too cold, and fluffy white clouds always decorated the sky. It was a wonder no one lived on that planet. In some ways, it reminded Leia of her long-gone homeworld of Alderaan.
She rested her head on Han's shoulder, who lent her silent support. Suddenly, the door to the war room slid open, and in stepped King Mornoch, dressed in his finest ceremonial robes.
"Madame Chief of State," he acknowledged with a respecful bow.
Leia turned her head and returned the greeting with a simple nod. Mornoch's appearance was typical of Barabels: greenish-black reptilian skin, bloodshot red-orange eyes, and a easily irritable personality. Still, he had agreed to come, which was all that mattered.
"Welcome, King Mornoch," Leia said, gesturing to one of the chairs surrounding the table. "Please, have a seat."
Mornoch nodded, and his eyes fell upon the Hive Queen, a threatening hiss escaping his black, cold-blooded lips. The Hive Queen looked up from her snack and clacked her pincers together in response--the Verpine equivalent of barely controlled anger. The Barabel sat down in the chair farthest away from the Hive Queen. As Leia prepared to sit down herself, Han leaned in and whispered in her ear, "Go get 'em, champ." Leia's eyes met her husband's, and she gave him a small grin. They sat together, facing the leaders of both races, who stared uneasily at each other. Leia could practically taste the tension that hung in the air. Hopefully, things would only start to improve from here. "I appreciate you both coming here," Leia began, folding her hands together. "I know how difficult this is for the both of you, but this is the first major step in ending this terrible war that has been going on--"
"Skip the introduction, and get on with it," Mornoch rudely interrupted, his eyes repeatedly flashing toward the Hive Queen. "I have more important things to do...like selling freeze-dried Verpine body parts to the Kubaz."
The Hive Queen immediately stood, her shadow completely dwarfing the reptilian monarch. "You dare to speak of my people in such a manner!" she said, voice barely understandable. "Perhaps you need to be taught a lesson."
Leia held her hands up to quell the fighting. "Enough of this! Look, I know that peace between you may sound impossible. I mean, you have been fighting for at least fifteen years. But you have to listen to me when I say that it must stop now. I'm sure you're both aware of the crisis on Coruscant."
Mornoch and the Hive Queen nodded in unison. "I apologize for the loss of the Republic's capital," Mornoch said. "My warriors and I will be ready to take it back from Black Sun in your name, Madame Chief of State, once we are through slaughtering the rest of the weakling Verpines--"
"I have had enough of this!" the Hive Queen snapped, her voice monstrous and echoing. "Madame Chief of State, you cannot possibly be serious about this peace treaty. A merciless killer such as him--" She gestured at Mornoch with one clawed pincer--"doesn't even know what 'peace' really means."
"I know fully well what 'peace' is, you bug-eyed freak!" Mornoch shot back, his eyes red with rage. "It means achieving victory by any means possible."
"No, it doesn't," Leia said calmly, drawing upon the Force to give herself strength. "I have a question for the both of you: why do you two fight?"
The Hive Queen and Mornoch turned to her, surprised by her question.
"Well? Why do you?" The Hive Queen's mandibles clacked together, unable to answer the question.
The Barabel king looked down at his boots, before replying in a tone so acrid that it could melt lead, "Because that conniving, insectoid whore murdered my wife and son when her fleet attacked Alater-Ka. The entire city was laid to waste by her B-wing bombers; thousands of innocent people lost their lives...including my family!"
"They deserved to die!" the Hive Queen snarled, her jaws clacking together even faster. "Your entire race is nothing more than a mass of killing machines, who need to be destroyed before they cause any further damage to my people. And may I remind you that the reason I ordered the bombing of Alater-Ka was because you personally oversaw the massacre of the Hive Nest. Do you have any idea how many children I lost in that attack? Children I myself created!"
The Hive Queen's comments seemed to anger Mornoch even further, if that was possible. Leia chose this moment to step in before things became even more heated. "You both have suffered and lost," she explained. "Believe me, I know how that feels. I--"
"Madame," Mornoch said, his voice softer than before. "You know that I respect you more than any other individual in the Republic. I admire you for all the things you have done in your continuing struggle against the Empire. But you do not, and I repeat, do not know what it feels like to lose someone close to your heart. You don't know what it's like to watch as your own home is laid to waste by an enemy who merely does it to kill--" At this point, Leia stood up, Mornoch having struck a sensitive chord within her.
"You are wrong, Your Highness," she said, her voice backed up with so much unexpected force that the king was taken aback. "During the early battles against the Empire, I was forced to watch as Grand Moff Tarkin destroyed my homeworld. I watched as Alderaan exploded before my very eyes. And I was unable to do anything to stop it from happening." Her eyes hardened as unshed tears pooled behind the brown irises. "I'll tell you how it feels, Mornoch, it hurts. More than any physical pain, this is something that takes years to recover from, and sometimes even a lifetime won't do it. To this very day, I still mourn the loss of Alderaan. I still cry every night in my sleep as I think of all the people I knew--childhood friends, people I knew from my days as an Imperial senator, my own foster father--died at the hands of a madman." Her voice softened at this point, and she looked at them both with sympathetic eyes. "So I do know how it feels. And you must feel the same as I do."
The Hive Queen looked away, a pained groan escaping her mandibles. Mornoch slightly nodded, ashamed of his harsh words to her, and perhaps even mourning the loss of his family. Han even looked surprised by Leia's words, as if he could sense her pain. One didn't have to be Force-senstivie to sense feelings like that.
"But you two still haven't answered my question," Leia said, sitting back down. "Why do you continue fighting? Why all the unnecessary bloodshed? For what purpose does this war serve?" The two leaders remained silent, unable to answer her question. It was indeed a good question--which was why they couldn't answer.
"It's because you don't even remember the original cause of the conflict," Leia said. Not a question. "I'll tell you how this all started: a contract. A shipbuilding contract, to be more precise. Because the Verpines broke a shipbuilding contract with the Barabels, they decided to declare war. And now look at what's happened. Almost two decades have passed, and you still haven't found a resolution to this conflict. How can something so petty have started a war on such a horrific scale as this? A war that has claimed the lives of so many on both sides?"
Again, neither the Hive Queen nor Mornoch could answer. It seemed as if Leia's words were finally beginning to make sense to them. "Because of revenge," Leia continued. "One of you attacks the other; the other then retaliates, and it keeps going on and on. Revenge is a never- ending cycle, my friends. It doesn't solve anything. All it does is get people hurt. Good people. And it will keep repeating, until there is no one left to fight. Is that what you both want? Is that how you want to end your lives? By contributing to a war as meaningless as this?"
At this point, she stood up again and headed over to Mornoch, clasping both hands against one reptilian claw. "The Barabels are among the bravest warriors I have ever seen this side of the galaxy. Many times, they have helped the Republic in the war against the Empire, and every time, I have been grateful for their assistance." As she spoke, she led the Barabel king over to the Hive Queen, and placed his scaled hand on top of hers. Both seemed uneasy as doing so, but didn't say anything.
"And the Verpines are survivors," Leia continued. "They managed to do what no other creature on Taragoth couldn't do: they survived. Despite the horridness of your planet, you were still able to eke out an existence and prosper. I have seen few races who were able to accomplish such a feat. Your B-wing pilots are among the best in the galaxy; they have a strong, intelligent ruler who wishes her people to live their lives and be happy."
She turned to Mornoch. "And the same goes for you, Your Highness. Neither of you is the bad guy here...although you both are wrong in deciding to continue this war."
"But..." Mornoch struggled to find the words he was searching for. "...even if we did agree to stop fighting...it will take such a long time for our wounds to heal."
Leia sadly nodded. "Very true. Indeed, the wounds may never completely heal, and will no doubt leave many scars on both sides. But this is a start." She laid both hands upon theirs, her grip firm and strong. "You both are unique and special in your own ways. The galaxy cannot afford to lose you both in a pointless war. The Republic needs you. My son and niece need you. And..." She hesitated, looking into the eyes of both rulers, "...I need you. End this bloodshed once and for all, and help us fight Black Sun before it is too late."
For a long time, no one in the war room spoke. Leia and Han waited with baited breath, eyes darting from one leader to the next. The Hive Queen and Mornoch met each other's gaze, both deep in thought. For once, Leia sensed no hostility, no anger, no long-held grudges or vows of vengeance. Finally, something happened. The Barabel tightened his grip on the Hive Queen's enormous pincer, a Barabel sign of peace and friendship. In return the Hive Queen nodded, silently approving as the two shook hands, thus sealing the peace treaty between their two races.
"Please, forgive me for all I have done to you and your people," the Queen said, genuine regret in her voice.
Mornoch nodded. "And forgive me as well," he replied.
Leia's smile couldn't have been wider at that point.

Isolder waited impatiently on the control bridge of the Hapan Battle Dragon Song of War as the fleet coursed through hyperspace, destined for the capital of the New Republic. Or, if what he had heard was correct, former capital.
"Captain Astarta," he said to his personal bodyguard, a tall, muscular, red- headed woman who frighteningly resembled a warrior from Dathomir. "How soon until we reach Coruscant?"
"Five standard minutes, my Lord," she replied in her normally calm, even voice. "I wouldn't worry, sir. Once our fleet has arrived, retaking Coruscant from Black Sun will be easy."
Isolder nodded, wishing he felt as confident as Astarta. The Hapans were an extremely formidable force: he had brought at least thirty Battle Dragons in all, a fleet so vast that it could wipe out an entire armada of Star Destroyers if they wanted to. And yet, he couldn't help but feel concerned for the Republic. After all, the only other time they had been driven from Coruscant was when the resurrected Emperor rose to power, and even then, it was a slow and painful process. With Xizor, however, it had only taken the space of two days...
Isolder wished his wife was here to reassure him. But Teneniel was on Dathomir at the moment, with their seven-year-old daughter, Tenel Ka. He was glad that they were far away from here, though, and safe from the grasp of Black Sun. However, a small part of him longed to hold his wife again, even for a few minutes.
Isolder tried to calm down. That time would come soon, as long as everything proceeded according to plan. Five minutes passed like an entire century, and the Song of War, along with the rest of the Hapan fleet, emerged from the realm of hyperspace. Coruscant hung in the dark vacuum of space, like a glittering, metallic jewel.
"I'm detecting few life signs on the planet," a Hapan officer said from her console. "Only about a hundred or so."
Black Sun, no doubt, thought Isolder. "Can you pinpoint their precise location?"
The officer shook her head. "I am sorry, sir. But they must be jamming our sensors. We can detect them, but I can't specify their location."
"Then we'll have to do it the hard way," Isolder muttered.
"Sir," another officer said. "Our sensors are picking up a cluster of ships gathered at the outer edge of the system." She looked over at the Hapan prince, amazement in her brown eyes. "At least a hundred of them."
Isolder almost choked on the answer. A hundred ships? He had never seen a fleet as large as that before, not even an Imperial one. Apparently, the Republic must have used everything at their disposal in order to evacuate the planet. "Then let's head over there," he ordered. "Coruscant will have to wait. I'd like to meet with the Chief of State and her top generals, and plan our next move." As one, the fleet of Hapan Battle Dragons soared away from the mostly- abandoned planet, heading for the large group of Republic ships.
Within moments, they had arrived at their destination...completely unprepared for what awaited them. Apparently, the hundreds of ships the Song of War had detected turned out to be nothing more than debris from shattered ships. Large pieces of metal floated aimlessly through space, like a miniature asteroid field. As Isolder gaped at the sight, he saw that the remaining Republic ships--which numbered to only about half of what its original number had been--had moved away from the wreckage to prevent from getting struck by floating debris.
"What happened here?" Astarta gasped, one hand placed over her mouth.
"Xizor," Isolder whispered in a low, anger-driven voice as the Hapans closed in on the Republic ships.