In all the time he had been on the Nova Hound, it was incredibly eerie not to hear any sounds around him, save for the echoing of his own footsteps as he descended down the lift tube shaft. Hands clasped securely upon the rungs that hid in their niche in the wall, Marikk descended slowly, avoiding looking down for fear of the dark unknown not revealed by the emergency lights. By the door he saw in the wall beside him as glanced over, he figured he had just arrived on deck two.

Reaching just to the right of his shoulder, he opened a small panel there and revealed the manual access controls for the door mechanism. The captain worked quickly, cutting and crossing some wires within the device and then pulling down on a large lever below them. With a satisfying hiss, the doorway split open and gave him just enough room to slide through as he sidled away and off the ladder.

Like every other deck on the ship, the corridor into which he stepped was covered in shadows, broken every so often by the glow of the feint red lights upon the wall. Reaching to his belt, Marikk unclasped a small, palm-sized light and switched it on, shining it out into the darkness. All the while his free hand stayed within reach of his sidearm.

Counting the doorways as he went, his steps taking the beat of his muttering, he soon reached the fifth doorway down from the lift tube and antechamber, Professor Ardina's quarters. Marikk placed the light in his mouth as best he could and then wedged his fingers into the crack between the doors, braced his legs against the flooring and then began to try and pull the door towards the right. At first, there was no movement; no response. The Duros's arms began to burn as he continued to pull, the doors at first only giving slightly but finally sliding apart with ease and revealing the open entranceway after about thirty seconds work. Caught off balance momentarily, the lamp dropping from his mouth, he straightened himself quickly, gathered up his light and made his way through.

Entering into the room, the dim light of the stars and the crimson of the wall mounted lights providing mixed illumination in the otherwise dark space; he could immediately tell something was wrong. There was a stench in the air, the smell of death. Marikk shined his light down on the floor, first spotting some wood splinters scattered by his feet and then bending down to investigate. As he did, though, sorting through the remains of the box, a sick feeling squeezing his inner being, something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye.

"Professor!" Marikk cried in alarm, scrabbling across the floor to where the elder human lay. Feeling both neck and wrists, he desperately checked for a pulse, hoping that the wound on his chest was not fatal though in all rationality he knew undoubtedly it was. A sense of grief overwhelmed his being, washing over him like a mighty rushing wave. It was not death itself that made him mourn, but the death and suffering of the innocent.

Immediately, thoughts began to rush through his mind, buffeting his spirit. Did I bring this on him? Was there more I could have done? I should have provided him more protection. I should have tried harder to escape. I should have… I should have… He paused and shook his head. He had to try to keep such thoughts from his mind lest they keep him off guard and lead him down the path to his own death. Kneeling there beside Constantin's body, Marikk closed the professor's eyes, clasped the human's hands together over his chest to cover the blaster wound, and then closed his own eyes and sat there in the silence, giving his last respects.

Heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway, soon followed by the deafening sound of blaster fire and an explosion. Then, in response, he heard his cousin's voice cry out.

"Hey! What in the moons of Munnilist do you think you're doing, breaking into my room!?"

"We've come for the professor. Where is here!?"

"I…don't know…"

"Lying worm!"

A hard thud thundered out against one of the bulkheads.

"It's not bestest to make Master Darquc angry. When angry, he likes to kills things, but, if yous tells us where the Professor is, we's sure he might possibly reconsider."

Marikk jumped to his feet, bowing momentarily to the Professor as he did, switched off his light, and then drew his blaster. Creeping slowly to the doorway, he peered out and towards the commotion beyond. Bathed in crimson radiance, he saw a fierce looking creature with smooth brown skin, bared fangs, and squinty eyes, dressed in a dark gray poncho, with pieces of gleaming ebony chitinous armor revealed underneath, and a bandolier overtop; behind him a diminutive green Phuii, a long-necked creature with a duck bill-like snout, standing as tall as the other creature's hip, and dressed in a baggy navy blue shirt and gray pants that bloomed out at the bottom. The taller of the two held an intimidating looking blaster canon in one hand and in the other was Loon, squirming in the grip of the muscular arm's three clawed fingers.

His blaster and light in tow, the captain took a deep breathe, paused a moment, and then jumped out of the doorway, firing of several shots that impacted at various points across the larger beast's body. The attack had caught him off guard, as he hoped, and as the two hunters reeled back in surprise as his cousin was released from his confines. Marikk activated his hand light, shining it into their eyes from what had once been darkness and blinded the two temporarily. This was the opening he needed.

"Loo, down here! Quickly!" Scrabbling to his feet, the Neimoidian huffed and puffed as he made it to Marikk's side and the two took refuge inside the doorway of the professor's chambers.

"Snarffing, dung-heaping, sludge hounds!" Darquc snarled, rubbing his hands over his eyes.

With his blaster held with both hands in front of his chest, the Duros glanced to his side, into the hall, and then over to Loon, who was leaning over with his hands on his knees. "You alright, Cous?"

"Better… now."

"Good." He smirked, trying to hide his own stress. "Would hate to see you be that thing's dinner."

"Well, I don't think he'd have eaten me. Still, though, you don't want to make a Dashade warrior angry."

"Dashade, eh? Did you get a load of that firearm of his? It's an old CR-1 blaster canon. Those things are particularly nasty. A Clone Wars-era weapon, but a lot of them have been upgraded and made there way into the hands of groups like the Rebellion. They usually fire off multiple shots at once." Suddenly, a loud shot fired from where the hunter's had been standing, a single great bolt impacting against the wall on the far side of the corridor from them, ripping through the durasteel and baring energy conduits and various wires and scorching wall panels. Marikk furrowed his brow in response. "Apparently our friend has upgraded his even more and made a bad weapon even worse."

Leaning over and around the corner, the captain fired a few more shots off into the darkness, their enemy having taken cover as well. As Marikk hid once more, another canon shot and several bolts from a smaller weapon surged through the air and tore through the nearby deck plating. Behind him, Loon wrung his hands together, dancing anxiously, a look upon his face of both fear and something else. Finally he spoke.

"Marikk, listen, I just wanted to say…I… I apologize for getting in your face as much as I did earlier, for attacking you like that."

His cousin couldn't help but chuckle, a look of bemusement on his face as he fired off his blaster again. "Well, Loo, I must say you have some timing, but I forgive ya. We're family. We can't let little squabbles ruin our relationship. Besides, well, I was rather reckless with the whole ale run to Gordain."

"Well, could it be I've finally gotten through to you? Could Marikk Danar finally be starting to settle down?"

"I wouldn't bet on it, Loo. Where's the fun in that?" His finger edging just against the trigger, he scanned the darkness and saw something scurry around in the distance. It could only be the Phuii. Three more shots rang out from his weapon followed by a squeaky cry from the darkness. "So, might I take it that you'll finally cut me some slack when it comes to our finances?"

In a move that caught him off guard, a smirk that echoed very much one of his own crossed Loon's face. "As a wise man once said, 'I wouldn't bet on it.'"

A flurry of crimson bolts impacted right near Marikk's right boot before he heard the distinctive sound of the CR-1 firing again. Listening momentarily, his eyes grew wide as he dived out of the way and tackled his cousin. "Loon, look out and get down!" In a great flash, the edge of the doorway where he had been standing erupted in a great flash of light and a section of the wall larger than his head disappeared in the smoke.

Marikk coughed from the smoke and bits of dust that clouded the air, wiped a few pieces of metal off of his jacket and then lifted himself up and looked his cousin over. "You alright, Loo?"

A grimace was etched into the half-Neimoidian's blue-green face. "Fabulous."

"I believe my hit and run strategy was just hit and ran." Despite the attempt at humor, neither of the cousins reacted with the faintest laugh or grin. The situation was dire. Chance of success was nearly gone. Odds of survival were nearing nil. It almost seemed to be the lot for Marikk's Mercs.

No matter how many times they had been in such a situation before, though, it was not there's to simply lie down and die. If this was the end, then they'd go out blazing.

The two were quiet as they stood to their feet. Marikk lifted and displayed his trusty pistol with pride while Loon reached down to his boot and brandished a small dagger. Both nodded, a desperate man's grin upon their faces, and turned their attention to the doorway. Holding their weapons in the ready, the cousins charged out the door, a forced war cry echoing in unison from their voices.

As they rounded the corner and faced the darkness of the hallway, their cries slowly trickled down to astonished whimpers and their weapons dropped to their sides as they saw, much to their surprise, that the hunters had been disarmed and disabled. Standing over the two fallen bodies was a duo of silhouettes, Ortolan and Rodian, Obbeo and Craeldo.

Marikk placed a hand on his hip and gave a lopsided grin, "Well, I'll be."

"Hope we didn't miss too much of the fun, Cap." From behind his back, Crae revealed a stun baton, humming as energy surged through it, and smiled. "An unseen belt with the Stunner to the back of the big guy's head and a belly-flop from Obbeo on the green guy works wonders. They really weren't so tough after all."

"Show-offs," muttered the accountant as he returned his blade to concealment.

"You're just jealous, Loon, that we beat them and you didn't." His trunk wiggled about in laughter as Obbeo straightened his red silk chef's uniform. "Must say, though, that that was a wonderful display you and Captain Danar performed on your way out. Awe-inspiring, really."

Any of the joviality and good humor that Loon had displayed earlier was all but gone as the picky, confrontational Neimoidian everyone had come to know reemerged. Wagging his finger in anger, he stepped forward, brow furrowed and eyes narrowed, ready to retort with whatever comments would spring from his mind, witty or otherwise, but he was quickly met by the dark blue hand of Captain Marikk.

"Let it go, Loo. We've got more important things to do than bicker. Obbeo, Crae, take these two and tie them up 'til we can figure out something to do with them." Straightening his black t-shirt and jacket, the Captain watched briefly as his information broker and ship-board chef dragged the hunters' bodies away before he made his way towards the tube shaft again and, with the same silencing hand he had just used, waved his cousin on. "Loon, come with me. We're going to the bridge to see what we can do to get this tug going."


Energy blade and metal sword clashed together with silent impact. The two combatants parried and thrust equally between each other as the elegant dance of the duel made way. At first, Sillek had decided to press in with a few moderately powered blows to test her defenses, and then allowed her to make a forward assault to fully gauge her offensive capabilities. And this is where they were as he watched the young woman press in with blow after blow to his blade. From what he could tell, she was not well accustomed to using the blade, but nonetheless he did not allow himself any quarter in lowering his defenses because he could still sense the grave danger she could pose if he did.

Both of them had moved quickly from his quarters into the slightly larger confines of the corridor; Sillek raised his blade up diagonally in front of him and braced his legs as she brought the lightsaber down heavily upon him. Watching each other eye to eye, they said nothing, but held there stances momentarily in the bright red glow of the emergency lights as the Quarren pushed forward with his full strength and drove her back. In the moment he had, he lowered his sword to his right side with both hands, getting into position, and then charged and lunged the sword up and forward, the blade pointing towards her right shoulder. As expected, though, she sidestepped at the prime moment and brought her weapon down upon his as he charged on, meaning to knock the sword from his hand, but Sillek, undeterred, strengthened his grip on the hilt and pushed upwards, which sent her sword arm high in the air over her head and leaving her abdomen unguarded.

There was a moment of conflict within him as time seemed to slow before him. With one strike he could end this battle, as well as the saber wielder's life, but something pushed back against that killer instinct; something deep within his soul protested. Narrowing his eyes, he planted a boot into her stomach and sent the young woman stumbling backwards against the wall, the cowl over her face falling back and revealing the red locks of hair that came tumbling down onto her shoulder, as well as the tender age of the fighter.

Sillek took several steps back himself, holding the gleaming blade of his sword up straight in front of him, putting up his defenses and narrowing his eyes as he watched her recover and steady herself back on her feet. "I do not wish to kill you," he muttered, standing as straight and still as a statue. "Leave now and do not return. You have many years ahead of you, Miss. Do not throw it all away here."

"Save such lines for the end. This fight is not over yet." Reaching back over her shoulder, Mara took her cloak, pulled it off and tossed it in the air, the garment unfurling and making a momentary shroud between the two. Sillek swung from the top right to bottom left corner and rendered it in two, but before it completely separated, the magenta blade of Jade's lightsaber came piercing straight through the top piece, much to his surprise. He sidled out of the way, trying to avoid the incoming blade, but the Quarren was not quite fast enough as he felt a sharp pang surge through his tentacles. Before he could take the time to access the damage, he soon found the saber's blade moving sideways from its original path towards him. With one fluid motion, he bent his upper body backwards, sliding under the blade, and then dropping to the ground and kicking up and forward in the path of her arm. When boot and hand connected, Mara gave a brief cry of pain, but stifled it quickly in the presence of the enemy as her saber went sliding down the corridor towards the lift tube.

From his former position, Sillek rolled forward in the opposite direction of his opponent, then leapt to his feet and spun around to plant a roundhouse kick in the young woman's back. His foot, though, was caught in air and she twisted it and spun him around in the air but he managed to keep from falling down and landed squarely on his feet, sword still in hand. Spinning the blade around so that the dull side faced forward, the Quarren raised it in the air over his head, but as he began to swing down, Mara rushed forward and grabbed hold of his upraised arm at the wrist. The two struggled, spinning around as they did and exchanging the directions in which they had been standing when Jade reached up and planted a knee up into Sillek's stomach, the pressure and shock of which caused him to lose strength momentarily and drop his sword to the ground.

This fight has been going on far too long, she thought, watching as her opponent began to crumple back a bit. It's time to end this. Letting go off his wrist, she grabbed him on both sides of the opening off his cloak, and, not allowing the Quarren any chance to recover, focused all of the energy within her and pushed it out into a powerful slam forward by the invisible hand of the force. As she did, she felt another power come over her, distant yet familiar, empowering her maneuver multiple times more than it would have been previously. Her eyes narrowed and the slightest sign of a smile edged from the corner of her mouth as she let go of his arm and grabbed onto the edge of the Quarren's cloak as he took to the air from the impact and then pulled back on his covering and freed it easily from his form as he went sailing and smashed against the bulkhead with a thunderous crash.

To her pleasure, as his body slowly slid to the ground in a crumpled pile, he did not try to get up again and, thankfully enough, was still alive as quiet mutterings slipped out of his mouth before he went silent. She didn't want to have killed him if at all possible and avoided it whenever possible. If it had not been for her Master's order, Professor Ardina himself might have still have been alive, but what was done was done and it could not be changed. Nor would she if she could, for it was the Emperor's will.

With Sillek's cloak in her hand, Mara withdrew the Sith Holocron from within the hidden pocket on the inner lining and then tossed the garment overtop of the Quarren's body. As she began to walk away, she noticed something on the ground, moving in short wriggling motions. It was one of his facial tentacles. A good length of it, too. Apparently her surprise thrust had caught him more off guard than she had realized since she had managed to cause him some injury. He was a masterful swordsman, and indeed a surprising challenge, but no opponent, no matter their skill, would have stopped her from attaining her prize. With the holocron in tow, she called her lightsaber to her free hand, reattached it to her belt, and strode away, pausing briefly in front of Sillek's unconscious form before making her way to the tube shaft and escape.


Small sparks of electricity danced in the air from the newly bared wires and stung the evergreen hand which had released them. Doing his best to ignore them, Dorm pressed on in his work, trying to rewire fried circuits and bypass what disabled conduits he needed to get the rest of the ship's systems operational. Glancing up from his work momentarily, his crested head lifted from the small entrance hatch and he watched as his droid assistant muttered to herself and kicked the console at which she worked. "Is everything alright, Leda?"

"This staggin', vape wasted, rust bellied, slag heap! Work!" cursed the LE-series droid, bending down and working busily once more with her laser wrench. Somehow this didn't instill the greatest sense of comfort in the Vurk mechanic.

"Is there anything I can help you with?"

The droid's voice seemed almost to change immediately, taking a sweet alto as she turned to her master, yellow photoreceptor cutting through the shadows. "No, dear, but thank you all the same."

He grunted an acknowledgment in his natural voice, fusing two wires into one stable thread. A light hearted tune filled the air, hummed from Dormanin's raspy voice, as their work progressed steadily, a chorus of charging and activating electronics joining the chorus with the sounds of life. From behind, though, he felt as though he could sense a movement and then saw Leda pause and stand up straight from her work. A tool in her hand, she turned and began to rush towards the chamber's entrance. However, the repair droid seemed to stop in her tracks, bright illuminations leaping across her pale frame. Dorm stood to his feet and rushed over to where she stood, like some peculiar still life, caught frozen in the actions of a second. Upon her chest, a disk sat embedded, clawed extensions stretched from its sides and embedding into her chassis.

"It's a DEMP disk. Zuckuss' own creation." Glancing quickly to the doorway, the Vurk's eyes narrowed and he began to bare his teeth in anger at the presence of the hunters Zuckuss and 4-LOM, the former who was addressing him now. "Zuckuss remembered that lovely droid from earlier on the station, so I thought an Electomagnetic Pulse device might be handy on this hunt."

"You monsters…"

"Your droid is not harmed." 4-LOM droned, raising his concussion rifle up and pointing the weapon straight for Dormanin's ample torso. "The strength of the pulse was relatively weak. She is simply shut down temporarily. Your existence, however, might not be as assured if you try to attempt an escape. This rifle is quite capable of permanently disabling your organic form."

Dorm lifted his hands and clasped them behind his neck, all the while keeping a cold glare upon his captors, his features held as terse as stone. "I assume you are here for the Professor."

"Affirmative."

With an air of confidence in his steps, Zuckuss marched around, examining the stature and build of the Vurk mechanic which was now at their mercy. "You will tell us where he is. If you do, we may very well leave you unharmed." The Gand reached back with one three-fingered hand and rubbed the back of his neck. "That little maneuver of yours on the station hurt, you know. Neither 4-LOM nor Zuckuss have forgotten. If you are most prompt in your answer, though, we may forget that little incident."

Nearly a minute passed and sound neither came from Dorm's mouth nor his translator, much to the hunters' ire, punctuated by the blunt jab of the dispersal dish of a sonic pistol in the small of his back. "Zuckuss assures you this is no joke. If you tell us where the professor is, I'll set my pistol to stun; if not, let's say they may be picking your remains from the ship's systems for quite some time."

"Do then as you will."

The two paused momentarily, the droid 4-LOM moving his head slightly to the side and locking eyes with his partner. Zuckuss, in turn, nodded, took a few steps back, and began to adjust the settings upon the pistol. One arm outstretched, he paused before he pressed down on the trigger button, giving the larger being one last chance to speak. It was a well-planned decision, as a voice finally broke the silence, though it was not Dormanin's.

"Alright, folks, we've got more bad news. The professor's dead and someone's got his artifact. Spread out and find them. We can't let the hunters escape."

Dorm sighed, his body slouching in defeat. "Oh Captain Marikk, no…"

There was no vocal communication between the hunters, though the Gand made a motion with his hand and signaled for his partner to head out. Moving a finger on the weapon's controls once more, he chuckled under his breath. "Well then, Vurk, you've been most informative. A pity Zuckuss must be going now."

The relative silence erupted into a great screeching wail that seemed to claw upon Dorm's mind. Both hands upon his head, he began to lower himself to a kneeling position, the room spinning around him before finally descending into darkness.

Looking over the fallen body of the immense reptiloid, Zuckuss tapped its body with the tip of his boot, and, when satisfied that it was completely unconscious, stepped over it and stepped slowly out of the engine room in triumph.


Mara moved swiftly through the inside of the old cruiser once the holocron was in her possession; running, climbing and trying to keep herself unseen as she made her way towards the airlock. Standing in the corridor that lead into the octagonal chamber connected to the twin air locks, one on each side, she let a feeling of victory sweep claim her being, though she tried to keep herself from lowering her defenses. With confident strides, she entered the main chamber and looked from left to right, trying to decide which ship to take. By the force, she made sure there were no presences on either of the two to impede her departure. Stepping to her left, she began to work at the docking controls and opened the hatch, but that was not the only door within the room to open then. The young woman spun around, checking momentarily to make sure the Sith holocron was secure inside the pocket upon her belt, and placed her hand at her hip. Both Zuckuss and 4-LOM had their weapons drawn at this point.

"Well," began the Gand, slightly surprised. "Zuckuss was expecting Darquc or Fwee to be the ones trying to escape with the Holocron. Who are you?"

"Your worst nightmare if you don't leave me be. Now back off or you'll be regretting it all the way to the Bacta tank."

"Foolish creature. I cannot foresee any possible threat posed by- -" The threat assessment that 4-LOM was spouting was quickly interrupted as it soon found itself off its feet and on its back upon the deck-plating from the impact of several rapid fire blaster shots.

"As I was saying…" Mara turned, narrowing her eyes as she locked gazes with Zuckuss and holstering her blaster. "Now then, care to give it a try?"

"Zuckuss will not be deterred by some fool woman!" Bracing his feet, he squeezed the trigger upon his snare rifle, the weapon spraying a faint mist of gas into the air and then following moments later with the liquid spraynet canister. From her opposite hip, Mara's lightsaber flipped up into her hand and sprung to life. With one swift movement, the canister was rendered in two and went sailing off to her sides as she reached out a hand and created quick rush of pressure that pushed the mist back down the corridor. All the while, Zuckuss stood there dumb-founded, having completely underestimated his opponent. Before he could react, or even realize it, she was upon him, spinning around and slamming her boot into his helmet. The Gand hunter himself went spinning into the air and crashed against the wall.

Sweeping a red hair from her forehead, she wrinkled her nose at the two of them and sprinted back to the boarding tube. Mara arrived finally in front of the final two doors before she could finally escape. She reached out with the force, slowly parting them so that she could make her way to freedom, but there were still those who had other plans.

The farthest end of the boarding tube erupted into a great flaming blaze of wreckage, severing it and an entire section of the airlock from the Nova Hound. Cold hands clasped to her body as the vacuum summoned her unto it, but with a quick snap of her arm, Mara took hold of the Void Prowler's hatch and began to pull herself to safety. Her belt, though, was not as lucky as it was severed by a piece of flying shrapnel and was pulled quickly into the ever increasing gap between the former Republic ship and the now drifting bounty hunter craft. She reached out with the force, tugging on it as she tried to keep herself from being sucked into the void and finally got her free hand on of its end. As she began to pull it to her by her hand, the pocket which held the holocron was pulled open by the pressure and the device went tumbling out Several more volleys of laser fire, sailing through with red hot fury, and, in a burst that seemed quite larger than such a small device should have caused, obliterated the Sith holocron into a sea of shimmering crystal shards. Those feelings of victory that had filled Mara's heart now dispersed just as did the pieces of the holocron, watching its pyramidal body one moment and the next a great white explosion and the release of an almost demonic looking bolt of energy that roared in pain.

Nothing left for her, Mara Jade pulled herself it, lightsaber and blaster in tow, sealed the hatch, retracted what little of the boarding tube was left and made her way to the assault ship's bridge. From there, she saw in the main viewport a blood red craft, a Skipray Blastboat, swoop down towards the cruiser and force its way into a connection with the mangled airlock where her ship had been and, at the same time, watched the crescent Byblos G-1A transport on the other side of the ship remove itself from dock and speed away before jumping into hyperspace.

She, too, followed in kind, setting the coordinates in into the Void Prowler's nav computer and took flight back to Brentaal where her own ship awaited her.


"Medicine vials, spray splint, synthe-nutrient replicator, bacta patches, scanner, spray hypo, chromostring dispenser, laser cauterizer." A single light yellow finger bobbed over and pointed at each of the items inside the knapsack in succession as they were listed off. "Everything's checked and ready." Having determined that all her things were in order, Shalla gave a hurried nod, slung the sack's strap over the right shoulder pad of her tan leather vest and then hurried out of the make-shift medical.

Captain Marikk had called her over three minutes ago with some report of Sillek having been found injured and unconscious outside his quarters a deck below her. The extent of his injuries was really rather difficult to discern at how quick a pace the Duro had spoken, prattling off hers in a series of different orders to the crew, so she had decided to grab a wide range of tools just in case.

The young Twi'lek's lekku twitched slightly at a brief chill in the air as she wound around the corner and into the chamber containing the lift tube. Its doors were already pried wide open from constant use. Taking a step forward, Shalla poked her head into the tube and then looked up and down into the shadows before taking a step back.

Heights. Of all things she had to be scared of, why did it have to be heights? She paced about momentarily, fidgeting her arms around in front of her and trying to muster her courage. "This is foolish… I'm 20 years old. I shouldn't be afraid of heights. Then again, what does age have to do with that?" A glance down the shaft again and she shuffled backwards. "What if the systems come back on and the lift starts to come upon me? What if I fall? What if….bah! I'm acting like a child! Sillek's in trouble and here I am scuttling around like a frightened Chadra-fan."

Setting her jaw, the medic stepped towards the doorway again, a forced bravery in her steps as she then stretched one arm out onto the tube wall and felt for the shaft's emergency ladder. As she did, Shalla caught what she thought was the sound of something clatter around behind her. She looked back quickly in alarm, but saw nothing but the shadows and the crimson shrouded entrance to the salon pod. Another attempt into the tube shaft and again, most definitely this time, she heard the sound. Likewise, again, she made to turn around but froze in place as she felt a snort of hot breath along the back of her neck and her lekku and a deep, bestial growl rumble behind her. There came next a sound, a voice, as cold as ice and like stone scraping against stone.

"Do not move a muscle, woman," it spoke slowly. "I have come for a hunt, one way or another. Tell me now and tell me swiftly…where is this Alderaanian and the holocron?"

"Y…you mean Dr. Ardina?" came the shaky response.

Again it spoke, repeating its previous statement. "Where is the Alderaanian and the holocron?"

"The professor is dead. The holo…whatever… I don't know. I guess one of you hunters has it."

"Damn. They're already gone." Placing a hand nearly as large as the girl's head on her shoulder, the T'surr hunter spun the Twi'lek around violently and forced her face to face and kept her heels just on the edge of the shaft. Only his four glowing vermilion eyes were clearly visible in the shadows, his formerly blue now violet features outlined lightly by the red light and his teeth glistening even in the darkness. If her body were not frozen, she would have screamed as she stared at this beast that had seemed to crawl from her nightmares. "I'll tell you, I am a very sore loser. If I cannot claim the holocron for this hunt, I will find some other prize to take with me."

Karyk removed his hand from her shoulder and gripped her by the bottom jaw, his claws cutting her supple flesh as lifted her into the air and held her out over the expanse of the shaft. "You shall do quite nicely. Now then, what shall I choose? Shall your skull decorate my belt or shall your hide line my pilot's chair?"