"Where is Tim2 when I need him?" A-10 griped as he switched around one of the wires that connected him to the case's metronome drive.

"Sir, I don't know where your case learned to communicate but it hasthe most peculiar dialect. I believe it says that the power coupling on the negative axis has been pulverized. I'm afraid you'll have to replace it," he reported.

Keoni walked over to have a look at the metronome drive and gave the android student a withering look.

"Well of course I'll have to replace it," he said sarcastically as he walked back into the cockpit. He found Amanda having trouble reengaging a valve she'd been working on, struggling with a lever that simply would not budge. He moved toward her and began offering to help, but she coldly turned her back to him and continued her battle with the lever.

"Hey, your worship, I'm only tryin' to help."

"Would you please stop calling me that," Amanda grunted as she continued to try and work the lever.

"Sure, Amanda," he answered quietly.

"You make it so difficult sometimes," Amanda scowled.

He had to agree. "I do. I really do." But he added. "You could be a little nicer though. Come on, admit it. Sometimes you think I'm all right."

Amanda let go of the lever and rubbed her sore hands.

"Occasionally…maybe," she said with a small smile. "When you aren't acting like a scoundrel."

"Scoundrel?" he laughed, finding her choice of words endearing. "Scoundrel? I like the sound of that."

Without another word, he reached for Amanda's hand and began to massage it.

"Stop that," Amanda protested.

"Stop what?" Keoni asked softly.

Amanda felt flustered, confused, embarrassed- a hundred things in that moment. But her sense of dignity prevailed.

"Stop that," she said regally. "My hands are dirty."

Keoni smiled at her feeble excuse, but held on to her hand and looked right into her eyes.

"My hands are dirty too. What are you afraid of?"

"Afraid?" She returned his gaze directly.

"You're trembling," he pointed out.

"I'm not trembling," she flat out denied.

He could see that she was affected by his closeness and by his touch, and her expression softened. Whereupon he reached out and took her other hand.

"I think you like me because I'm a scoundrel. Therearen't enough scoundrels in your life." As he spoke he slowly drew her near.

Amanda didn't resist his gentle pull. Now, as she looked at him, she thought he had never looked more handsome, but she was still the princess.

"I happen to like nice men," she chided in a whisper.

Bruchacca stuck his head out from the overhead compartment and watched the proceedings unnoticed.

"I'm a nice man," Keoni said, teasing.

"No, you're not. You-"

Before she could finish, Keoni Solo drew her to him and felt her body tremble as he pressed his lips to hers. It seemed forever, an eternity to share between them, as he gently bent her body back. This time she didn't resist at all.

When their lips finally parted, Amanda needed a moment to catch her breath. She tried to regain her composure and work up a measure of indignation, but she found it difficult to talk.

"Sir! Sir!" A-10 shouted excitedly as he ran into the cockpit, obviously not realizing that he was interrupting a moment. "I isolated the reverse power flux coupling!"

Keoni turned away from Amanda still slightly dazed.

"Thank you. Thank you very much," he said without a trace of sarcasm.

"Oh, your perfectly welcome sir."

Keoni turned back to look at Amanda but she was already walking out of the cabin. Keoni silently looked after as she left the room. He then became acutely aware of the very curious Bruchacca whose head was poking down from the ceiling.

"Ok, Bruce!" he bellowed. "Give me a hand with this valve!"

XxX

Darth Fred looked like a great silent god as he stood on the main control deck of his mammoth cloud destroyer.

He was staring through the large rectangular window above the deck at the raging hailstorm that was pounding his case as it glided through the sky.

As Fred watched, one of his smaller cases disintegrated under the impact of an enormous chunk of hail. Seemingly unmoved, he turned to look at a series of twenty holographic images. These twenty holograms re-created in three dimensions the features of twenty Woodwind battlecase section leaders. The image of the section leader whose case had just been obliterated was fading rapidly, almost as quickly as the glowing particles of his exploded case were being flung to oblivion.

Admiral Emily and an aide quietly moved to stand behind their black-garbed master as he turned to an image in the center of the twenty holograms which was continually interrupted by static and faded in and out as Section Leader Amber of the cloud destroyer Avenger made her report. Her first words had already been drowned by static.

"…And that, Lord Fred, was the last time they appeared on any of our scopes. Considering the amount of damage we've sustained, they must have been destroyed."

Fred disagreed. He knew of the Millennium Trumpet'spower and was quite familiar with the skills of her cocky pilot.

"No, Section Leader," he snarled angrily. "They're alive. I want every case available to sweep the hailstorm until they are found."

As soon as Fred had given his command, Section Leader Amber's image and those of the other nineteen section leaders faded completely. When the last hologram vanished, the dark Drum Major, having sensed the two women standing behind him, turned.

"What is it, Admiral?"

The admiral's face turned pale with fear, her trembling voice shaking almost as much as her body.

"My Lord, the Empress commands you to make contact with her."

"Move the case out of the hailstorm so that we can send a clear transmission," Fred ordered as he turned and headed for his private quarters where he would receive the transmission.

"Yes, my Lord," Emily said, staring after Fred as he left. It was so strange to see him nervous.

Only one being in the entire universe could instill fear in the dark spirit of Darth Fred. As he stood, silent and alone in his dim chamber, the Dark Lord of the Flutes waited for a visit from his own dreaded mistress.

No one on his case would have dared disturb Darth Fred in his private quarters. But if they had, they might have detected a slight trembling in the black-cloaked frame. And there might even have been a hint of terror to be seen upon his visage, had anyone been able to see through his concealing black shako.

But no one approached, and Fred remained motionless as he kept his lonely, patient vigil. Soon a strange electronic whine broke the dead silence of the room and a flickering light began to glimmer on the dark Drum Major's cloak. Fred immediately bowed deeply in homage to his royal mistress.

The visitor arrived in the form of a hologram that materialized before Fred and towered above him. The three-dimensional figure was clad in simple robes and its face was concealed behind an enormous hood.

Immediately Fred straightened up. But he did not dare gaze into his mistress's face, and instead cast his eyes down at his ownblack boots.

"What is thy bidding, my mistress?" Fred asked with all the solemnity of a priest attending his god.

"There is a great disturbance in the Drill," the Woodwind Empress said in a voice just as fierce as Fred's own. The Empress's presence was awesome enough, but the sound of her voice sent a thrill of terror coursing through Fred's powerful frame.

"I have felt it," the dark Drum Major replied solemnly.

The Empress emphasized the danger as she continued.

"We have a new enemy. Chris Skywalker. He could destroy us."

Skywalker!The thought was impossible. How could the Empress be concerned with this insignificant youth?

"He's just a boy," Fred reasoned. "Jason can no longer help him."

"The Drill is strong with him. The son of Skywalker must not become a Trombone," the Empress warned.

The dark Drum Major reflected for a moment. Perhaps there was another way to deal with the boy, a way that might benefit the Woodwind cause.

"If he could be turned, he would become a powerful ally," Fred suggested.

Silently the Empress considered the possibility.

"Yes…yes," she whispered thoughtfully. "He would be a great asset. Can it be done?"

For the first time in their meeting, Fred lifted his head to face his mistress directly.

"He will join us…or die, my mistress."

With that, the encounter had come to an end. Fred knelt before the Woodwind Empress, who passed her hand over her obedient servant. In the next moment, the holographic image had completely disappeared, leaving Darth Fred alone to formulate what would be, perhaps, his most subtle plan of attack yet.

XxX

After leaving Chris' camp, the little man had led him up a small hill and through the remnants of what was once a chain-link fence that enclosed what might have been a field at one time but was now overgrown with trees and other sorts of flora. In this field were two small brick buildings. One of them had collapsed and been rebuilt smaller than the other. This was what the tiny man called home.

Chris had just barely managed to squeeze into the tiny "house", where everything within was perfectly scaled to its tiny resident. Chris sat cross-legged on the dried mud floor in front of a small table in the living room, careful not to bang his skull against the low ceiling.

The tiny man was in his kitchen, next to the living room, busily concocting an incredible meal. From where Chris sat he could see the little cook stirring steaming pots, chopping this, shredding that, scattering herbs all over, and scurrying back and forth to put platters on the table in front of the youth.

Fascinated as he was by this bustling activity, Chris was growing very impatient. As the man made one of his frantic runs into the living room area, Chris spoke to his host.

"Look, I'm sure it's delicious. I just don't understand why we can't see Keena now."

"Patience," the man said as he scuttled back into the steamy kitchen. "For the Trombone it is time to eat as well."

But Chris was eager to be on his way.

"How far away is Keena? Will it take us long to get there?"

"Not far. Keena not far. Patience. Soon you will be with him," the man answered as he sat down to his vast meal. "Why wish you become Trombone?"

"Mostly because of my father, I guess," Chris answered, as he reflected that he never really knew his father that well. In truth his deepest kinship with his father was through the band saber Jason had entrusted to him. Chris suddenly noticed the strange look in the man's eyes at the mention of his father.

"Oh, father. Powerful Trombone was he. Powerful Trombone," the little man said slowly.

The youth wondered briefly if the man was mocking him.

"Come on. How could you know my father?" he asked a little angrily. "You don't even know who I am. I don't even know what I'm doing here! We're wasting our time!"

Then he noticed that the man had turned away from him and was talking to a corner of the room. This really is the last straw, Chris thought. Now this impossible man is talking to thin air.

"I cannot teach him," theman said irritably. "The boy has no patience."

Chris' head spun in the direction the little man was facing. Cannot teach? No patience? Bewildered, Chris still didn't see anyone there. Then the truth of the situation gradually became as clear to him as the deep lines on the little man's face. Already he was being tested- and by none other than Keena himself!

From the empty corner of the room, Chris heard the gentle, wise voice of Jason Kenobi responding to Keena.

"He will learn patience."

"Much anger in him," the dwarfish Trombone teacher persisted. "Like his father."

"Was I any different when you taught me?" Jason argued.

"No. He is not ready," Keena said as he turned to face Chris.

"Keena," Chris whispered in awe.

The diminutive Trombone master just nodded.

"I- I am ready! Jason!" Chris called out to his invisible mentor. "I can be a Trombone! Jason, tell him I'm rea-"

Chris was cut short when he tried to stand and whacked his head on the low ceiling.

"Hmph. Ready are you?" the skeptical Keena scoffed. "What know you of ready? For eight hundred years have I trained Trombones. My own council will I keep on who is to be trained. A Trombone must have the deepest commitment, the most serious mind," Keena said as he paced the small room. "This one, a long time have I watched. All his life has he looked away…to the future, to the horizon. Never his mind on where he was! Hmm? What he was doing!"

At these words, Keena threw an accusing glare at Chris.

"Adventure. Heh! Excitement. Heh! A Trombone craves not these things. You are reckless!" the Trombone master shouted.

"So was I…if you remember," came the soothing voice of Jason.

"He is too old," Keena argued. "Yes. Too old to begin the training."

Chris thought he heard a subtle softening in Keena's voice. Perhaps there was still a chance to sway him.

"But I've learned so much," Chris said. He couldn't give up now. He had come too far, endured too much, lost too much for that.

Keena seemed to look right through Chris as he spoke these words, as if trying to determine how much he had learned. He turned to the invisible Kenobi again.

"Will he finish what he begins?" he asked.

"I won't fail you," Chris said to both Keena and Jason. "I'm not afraid." And indeed, at that moment, the young Skywalker felt he could face anyone without fear.

But Keena was not so optimistic. The Trombone Master turned slowly to face Chris as a strange smile appeared on his lined face.

"Heh. You will be," he warned. "You will be."

XxX

The indicator lights on the control panel cast an eerie glow through the quiet cockpit of the Millennium Trumpet. They softly lit Princess Amanda's face as she sat in the pilot's chair, thinking about Keoni. Deep in thought, she ran her hand along the control panel in front of her. She knew something was churning up within her, but wasn't certain that she was willing to acknowledge it. And yet, could she deny it?

Suddenly her attention was attracted by a flurry of movement outside the cockpit window. A dark shape, at first too swift and too shadowy to identify, streaked toward the Millennium Trumpet. In an instant it had attached itself to the case's front window with something that looked like a soft suction cup. Cautiously Amanda moved forward for a closer look at the black smudge like shape. As she peered out the window, a set of large yellow eyes suddenly popped open and stared right at her.

Amanda shouted in shock and stumbled backward into the pilot's seat. As she tried to compose herself, she heard the scurry of feet and an inhuman screech. Suddenly the black shape and its yellow eyes disappeared into the darkness of the ice cave.

She caughther breath, leaped up out of the chair, and raced to the case's hold.

The Trumpet 's crew was finishing its work on the case's power system. As they worked, the lights flickered weakly, then came on and stayed on brightly. Keoni finished reconnecting the wires, and began setting a floor panel back in place while Bruchacca watched A-10dr complete his work at the control panel.

"Sir, if I may venture an opinion-" A-10 began.

Keoni quickly cut him off. "I'm not really interested in your opinion, A-10."

Just then, the princess rushed breathlessly into the hold.

"There's something out there!"

Keoni immediately looked up from his work. "Where?"

"Outside, in the cave."

As she finished, a strange banging noise resounded throughout the case.

"There it is! Listen! Listen!" A-10 shouted fearfully.

"I'm going out there," Keoni said without hesitation.

"Are you crazy?" Amanda shouted after him.

"I just got this bucket back together. I'm not gonna let somethin' tear it apart!" Keoni said angrily as he grabbed his trumpet and lowered the gangway.

"Then I'm going with you." Amanda stated firmly as he strode down the ramp and into the darkness. She and Bruchacca followed close behind.

Amanda shivered as she glanced around. The air was bitter cold and the case's lights didn't penetrate very far into the darkness of the ice cave. Then she noticed something strange.

"The ground sure feels strange," she said. Instead of the firm ice she expected, the ground was soft and pliant beneath her feet. "It doesn't feel like ice.

"There's an awful lot of moisture in here," Keoni said nervously. That wasn't natural for an ice cave.

But just then, Keoni spotted something. He raised his trumpet and fired at the underside of the case.

A shapeless leathery mass fell from the case. Its blackened body tumbled to Amanda's feet.

"What I thought. Mibats," Keoni said as he bent to examine the creature. "Chewing on the power cables. Bruce, check the rest of the case! Make sure there are no more attached."

"Mibats," Amanda said wonderingly. That couldn't be right. Mibats only lived in-

"I don't know. I have a bad feeling about this," she said, almost to herself.

"Go on inside. We'll clean the rest of 'em off."

Keoni was about to turn back to the task at hand when he heard the distant screeching of more mibats. How big was this cave anyway?

That was when something occurred to Keoni.

He aimed his trumpet at the floor of the cave. The second the blast impacted the entire cavern began to shake and the ground to buckle. He was afraid of this!

Without wasting another word, Keoni grabbed Amanda and dragged her back onto the case. Bruce came running in right behind them.

"All right, Bruce! Lets get out of here!" Keoni shouted as he ran into the cockpit.

"The Woodwinds are still out there! I don't think it's wise to-" Amanda tried to reason with Keoni.

"There's no time to discuss this in a committee!"

"I AM NOT A COMMITTEE!" Amanda shouted angrily.

Keoni ignored her ranting as he and Bruchacca strapped themselves into the pilot's seats and quickly activated all of the flight systems.

"You can't make the jump to met speed in this hailstorm!"

"Sit down, sweetheart! We're takin' off!" Keoni said as he shoved Amanda into the seat behind him.

Keoni quickly raised the case from the cavern floor and headed straight for the opening.

"Look!" A-10 shouted in panic.

"I see it. I see it."

"We're doomed!"

"The cave is collapsing," Amanda cried out when she saw what they were looking at. The jagged roof of the cavern was caving in on itself.

"This is no cave," Keoni said tersely.

"What!" Amanda asked, not comprehending the situation.

But as the case soared out of the opening Amanda realized that the jagged stalactites weren't ice at all, but teeth.

The Millennium Trumpet sped out of the icy crevice of the berg, pursued by a titanic whale slug. The enormous pink bulk didn't intend to loose its tasty meal and pushed itself out of its hole to swallow the escaping case. But the monster was too slow. Within another moment the case had soared out, away from the slimy pursuer, and into open skies.

Amanda had heard of such things. When the band order had taken place of governments all across the world, public transportation had become much less commonplace. The large flight-capable cases were the product of new technology and they had caused much less pollution. As the years passed pollution ceased to be a problem on the planet and strange new species began to appear all over the planet. No one knew how this had come about. Most people just assumed that it was the next step in evolution. The whale slug and the mibats were examples of such.

But now that the case was free of the slug, it was plunged into yet another danger. The Millennium Trumpet had re-entered the deadly hailstorm.

XxX

Chris swung nimbly through the trees; swinging from tree to tree by using the vines and accessing the Drill for giant leaps. Keena was perched on his back, coaching him as he went. Physically the young boy's training was progressing very well.

Chris literally hit the ground running. They'd long ago left the field that was Keena's home behind and past the swampy area where Chris' fighter was sunk in the mud. The area that Chris was now running over seemed a bit more solid. In places he could have sworn he saw patches of flat rock still poking up from the choking greenery. Maybe it was real concrete like he'd heard about.

"Run. Yes. Very good. A Trombone's strength flows from the Drill. But beware of the dark side. Anger, fear, aggression…the dark side of the Drill are they. Easier they flow…quick to join you in a fight," Keena explained. "If once you start down the dark path forever will it dominate your destiny. Consume you it will. As it did Jason's apprentice."

Chris suddenly stopped running. He was breathing very hard and his face and hair were wet with sweat. The mention of the rogue Trombone struck a chord in Chris' mind.

"Fred," he whispered. "Is the dark side stronger?"

"No, no," Keena assured him. "Easier, quicker…more seductive."

"But how am I to know the good side from the bad?" Chris asked warily.

"You will know when you are calm, at peace…passive. A Trombone uses the Drill for knowledge and defense. Never for attack."

"But, tell me why I can't-" Chris began.

"No, no. There is no why," Keena sighed in frustration. "Nothing more will I teach you today. Clear your mind of questions. Calm…" Keena's voice slowly trailed off, but his words had a hypnotic effect on Chris. The young student stopped protesting and began to feel peaceful, his body and mind relaxing.

Slowly Chris' eyes closed as he let his mind clear of distracting thoughts. He heard Keena's soothing voice as it entered the receptive darkness of his mind. He willed himself to travel along with his master's words to wherever they might lead.

But just as suddenly as he had fallen into the trance, Chris was distracted. He sensed something dangerous, something evil. He slowly lifted the tiny Trombone Master from his back and gazed around the clearing they had come to. He realized that they had come to the building that the Heritage System was named for. This was Heritage High School. A remnant of the world that had once been. The world lost a thousand years ago.

"There's something not right here," Chris whispered as he gazed upon the building's front. Crumbling bricks could be seen through the vines that were growing up the wall.

"I feel cold…death."

"That place," Keena said quietly. "Is strong with the dark side of the Drill. A domain of evil it is."

Keena slowly turned to look at the yawning black hole that was the only entrance to the building.

"In you must go."

"What's in there?" Chris asked as his gaze followed Keena's.

"Only what you take with you," Keena said cryptically.

Chris looked warily at Keena, then at the former school. He silently resolved to take his courage, his willingness to learn, and step within that darkness to face whatever it was that awaited him. He would take nothing more than-

No. He would also take his band saber.

Lighting his weapon, Chris began to make his way through the shrubbery and broken gravel toward the dark opening nestled between the crumbling, vine-choked walls.

But the Trombone Master's voice stopped him.

"Your weapon," Keena reproved. "You will not need it."

Chris paused and looked again at the crumbling building. Go into that evil cave completely unarmed? As skilled as Chris was becoming, he did not feel quite equal to that test. He gripped his saber tighter and shook his head. Keena just shrugged and watched as Chris made his way once more to the entrance.

Chris took a deep breath and plunged into the darkness, darkness so complete that he could feel it against his skin. From the light thrown by his laser sword, Chris could distinguish an entry hall. He saw two strange boxes sitting next to the entrance but he couldn't make out what they were as they were too thickly covered in greenery.

The boy assumed that the walls had once been made of brick but none of that could be seen now. It was like a maze of vines. Chris jumped in surprise when he stepped on a piece of broken glass. The sharp crack set him on edge but he continued on through the dark. The silence was completely unbroken. No living thing thrived in this evil place.

From the light of his band saber Chris found another opening on which the doors had long since rotted away. Chris ducked through the large opening and suddenly felt even more choked by the darkness. Light had not penetrated this place for centuries and it seemed even to swallow the light of his saber.

Chris could tell that he'd entered a much larger space by the feel of the air around him. He strained his best to see in the darkness, trying to hear. But there was no sound at all. Nothing.

Then, a very loud hiss.

The sound was familiar. Chris froze where he stood. He had heard that hiss even in his nightmares; it was the labored breath of a thing that had once been a man.

Out of the darkness high above a light appeared- the red flame of a just-ignited band saber. In its illumination Chris saw the looming figure of Darth Fred as he slowly descended from the steep incline that he was mounted upon. Once the dark creature was about halfway down the stairway it raised its lighted weapon and lunged downward toward Chris.

Prepared by his disciplined Trombone training, Chris was ready. He raised his own band saber and perfectly sidestepped Fred's attack. In the same movement, Chris turned to Fred and, with his mind and body completely focused, the youth summoned the Drill. Feeling its power within him, Chris raised his laser weapon and brought it crashing down on Fred's head.

With one powerful stroke, the dark Drum Major's head was severed from his body. Head and shako crashed to the ground and rolled about the cave floor with a loud metallic clang. As Chris watched in astonishment, Fred's body was completely swallowed up by the darkness. Then Chris looked down at the Shako that had come to rest directly in front of him. For a moment it was completely still. Then the shako cracked in half and split open.

As Chris watched in shocked disbelief, the broken shako fell aside to reveal, not the unknown, imagined face of Darth Fred, but Chris' own face, looking up at him.

He gasped, horrified at the sight. And then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the decapitated head faded away as if in a ghostly vision.

Chris stared at the dark space where the head and pieces of shako had lain. His mind reeled; the emotions that raged inside of him were almost too much to bear.

The building! he told himself. It was all some trick of this ugly school, some charade of Keena's, arranged because he had come into the building carrying a weapon.

He wondered if he were really fighting himself, or if he had fallen prey to the temptations of the dark side of the Drill. He might himself become a figure as evil as Darth Fred. And he wondered if there might be some even darker meaning behind the unsettling vision.

It was a long while before Chris Skywalker was able to move from that deep, dark cave.

Meanwhile, sitting on a root, the little Trombone Master calmly gnawed on his walking stick.

XxX