Sons Of Destiny Episode II: Equilibrium

by Kjoil

After years of exile, Skar finally comes to Coruscant with his new apprentice. But his past continues to haunt him, and it seems the past itself is far from dead...

3. The Search For Truth

Jovis was sure that the dining room itself also was something new. He wasn't sure what it had been before. Four out of the five walls were refitted with large screens, taking up the entire space, each wall showing a slideshow of art and images. Most of the images were of peaceful terrain, mountains, hills, green fields, and pictures of blue and red skies. Jovis had no understanding of art, it wasn't something he'd ever studied but he found that some of the pictures interested him. Not because of their beauty, but because they showed worlds and places he'd never seen.

Not only admiring them because they were clues to where the terrorist group had come from, but also because their unfamiliar settings allowed him to see dozens of different new worlds, just by looking at the different walls. Maybe that was all there was to art, a way of seeing things you would otherwise never see.

Jovis raised the fork to his lips, biting on the tender meat, tasting the juices inside it as he chewed, swallowed and smiled to his dinner companions.

"Delicious, isn't it?" Kayupa said, seated to Jovis' left at the table, tasting the meat himself and the man closed his eyes while chewing, a very satisfied look on his face. "This is quite a delicacy in the Unknown Regions, Jovis. If you want I can have a shipment of it brought in. With the money you'll be earning from this venture you would be able to set up a restaurant. You could be the first in this Galaxy to have this on your menu."

Jovis laughed, anxious at the thought of future plans beyond the mission they'd been hired for. The General seemed very sure they would survive, and setting up a restaurant was the last thing Jovis thought of. "Provided all goes well."

The General stabbed another piece of meat with his fork, repeating his show from before, closing his eyes, enjoying the meat to its fullest. "You have no need to worry, Jovis. No need at all." Kayupa opened his eyes and nodded to the serving droid at the end of the table. The droid nodded back, receiving its signal that the food was satisfactory cooked. The droid whirled on its wheels and left the dining room.

The floor beneath Jovis' dirty military boots was carpeted with a very soft blue fabric which helped darken the room so one's attention was drawn to the walls and their shows instead. Jovis had to respect and admire the man for the decoration and designs he'd made. He'd turned what should have been a sweaty military base into what looked more like an expensive mansion, a place of leisure and rest.

Jovis was also surprised by the lack of activity he'd seen in the areas he'd been. There were very few men on patrol and even less going on inside. Everyone seemed to be relaxing, there was no pressure, no rushing, no stress. It was different from what he'd expected, but it was a welcome change.

In the center of their diamond-shaped table was a crystal volcano, Jovis believed it may have been fashioned from ice, with small currents of water flowing down its sides, mimicking magma. The small rivers of water went into small channels in the surface of the table, hundreds of small channels that looped around each other in an elaborate pattern before flowing back to the center of the table and back inside the volcano.

Kayupa himself sat with his back to the only window in the room, they'd torn down a wall facing the sunset and put up a large sheet of glass instead. The rays of light worked around the edges of the General, making him appear more dark than he actually was, as well as lighting up the small volcano which Jovis came to realize had small mirrors built into it. The light bounced back to the dinner plates of each individual. There were so many small touches to the room that Jovis felt sure he hadn't seen everything yet.

Even the table was built from a black rock-like substance that he believed might have been hardened lava, but wasn't sure. The surface of the table had been smoothed so efficiently that it felt more like plastic than anything else and the small channels directing the flow of the water had been hand-carved.

"Remind me to get the name of your interior decorator, though," Jovis said casually.

Kayupa chuckled to himself. "Decorating is a lot like warfare, only less bloody. Its all about staging your troops so you get the full benefit of their qualities."

Though smiling on the outside, Jovis found the comparison silly and quaint.

The diamond-shaped table could seat five people, but so far only Jovis, the General and the beautiful woman, that Jovis had come to think as the General's spouse, were dinning. Jovis was the one who had initiated this visit. In the days he'd spent on Hope's Haven he was called for when Kayupa needed to talk to him about how their arrangements were working out, mostly about the retraining of his mercenaries, but this time Jovis had made the call, eager to inform the General that his men were through with their training and that he couldn't wait for him to inspect their progress.

The General had been gracious enough to lend Jovis' team his combat simulators as well as placing the men through a rough training program by his most trusted lieutenant, a woman known only as Junn.

Jovis had only had the pleasure, except it hadn't really been a pleasure, of meeting Junn once, when he'd brought his men to the training arenas the first time. She was another perk of the job, very attractive and not the slightest bit ignorant to that fact. Jovis liked confident women, in his line of work he couldn't stand people who thought of themselves as weak or in need of a guardian. If he ever decided to have a wife, he would want someone like Junn. Someone who could handle her own.

As he'd gone to see Kayupa to inform him that his men had undergone all their training, he'd found him and the woman in the midst of dining. Jovis felt like he'd been intruding on what was clearly a private moment between the two, but to his surprise he'd been asked to join them, and a third plate had been arranged for him.

Kayupa was dressed in a gray uniform, a very expensive fabric very uncommon from the military garbs Jovis had seen him wear earlier, but the clothes made the man look less intimidating and Jovis found it easier to eat if he wasn't worried the man was hiding a weapon somewhere on his person.

The woman, even more stunning than when Jovis had first met her, was wearing a very expensive-looking black evening gown, baring only her shoulders and arms, a silver necklace and her dark hair had been arranged so perfectly that Jovis almost believed they were going to a reception or a gala. She wore very little cosmetics, so little Jovis wouldn't be surprised if she wasn't wearing any at all, not that she needed it. Even for a woman her age, time seemed to have forgotten her completely.

Jovis brought another piece of meat to his mouth, chewed it carefully with very little sound, not wanting to appear as hungry as he really was, or as nervous as he really was. "Those are nice, the images on the walls," he said once he'd swallowed, "where are they from?"

The General looked up from his plate, casting a glimpse at each of the four images showing at the moment. "The Unknown Regions."

Jovis thought the man was playing him for a fool. "Where in the Unknown Regions?"

The man smiled briefly, his fork playing with the last piece of meat on his plate. "I don't know," he said distantly, "that's why they're called the Unknown Regions."

Now Jovis was sure the man thought him to be a fool. "You don't know the names of the planets?"

The woman sipped her wine, and then entwined her fingers above her plate. "Are your men adapting well to their new home?"

She was trying to change the subject. They didn't want to talk about where they'd come from, or their knowledge about the Unknown Regions. He was on to something. And he didn't feel like letting it off the hook.

"Why is it a secret?" he asked, giving the woman his most serious face.

"I thought you came to inform us that your men are through their training," the General said, his eyes still on his plate.

What were they trying to do? Jovis hadn't had the opportunity yet to tell them that the training was over. How did they know? "If you already knew, why'd you ask me to stay?"

The woman gave him a look that said back off. "Its important for business associates to trust each other."

Jovis put down his utensils and leaned back in his seat. "This isn't business. Its war, and you both know it. I don't think you're out here to build a hologram theater," Jovis turned his eyes to the General, "or restaurants for that matter. You're out here fighting someone, and you asked me to fight beside you. If I'm going to risk my life over you two, I want to know more about you and your plans than I already do." I'm so dead! Jovis thought, surprised he'd been able to say the words without his voice cracking.

The woman grinned shortly, leaning back in her seat and turned her eyes to the General, appearing to counsel with him over what to do. Kayupa only gave her his grim face, very unhappy with Jovis's approach but there was resolution in those eyes as well. And that resolution gave Jovis hope that he might not die today after all.

The General's voice was almost mournful, sad. "It all began a long time ago. There was a man, whom I trusted. He tried to kill me. And he almost succeeded. He betrayed me, betrayed our trust. He…was like a brother to me. If not for the help of a very reliable friend of mine I might not be sitting here today."

Jovis listened carefully, not sure if that was the information he was looking for. "Is that what this is about? Revenge?"

The woman shook her head, her eyes on her partner, a shared grief in her eyes. "No. It goes further beyond than that."

Jovis wasn't sure what that meant.

"After my encounter with him, we traveled to the Unknown Regions."

Now we're were getting somewhere, Jovis thought. "What happened in the Unknown Regions? Who are the Sons of Destiny?"

The woman looked back at Jovis, her eyes full of intent, but still that light of pain in her eyes. "The Sons of Destiny are our creation. A well-disciplined army of crusaders."

Jovis asked. "For what?"

Kayupa straightened up, a proud and powerful gaze landing on Jovis. "The liberation and freedom of this Galaxy. The Republic has become a fragmented dogma, one that needs to be removed. People automatically assume that it is the only thing that can keep this Galaxy from falling apart, but this Galaxy is infact already in a very critical state. Things are far worse than the average civilian thinks. The Republic simply doesn't have the funds or the manpower to uphold justice and order in such a vast territory. It was never a viable solution to the problems, instead its holding back others who might be more suited for the task."

The man chuckled, at his own amusement. "Say what you will, but things were in better shape even during the Empire. The Republic's approach is too slow. Its members are self-indulged warmongers who care only for their own. Someone else needs to step up to the plate. Someone capable."

Jovis nodded, finally understanding what it was all about. "The Sons of Destiny?"

"It is fate that has carried us this far," the woman said, her voice alluring and convincing, "we are the sons of destiny. And this is our Dream."

Jovis bought it, not sure he agreed, but he was willing to believe that they believed they were right. "Your soldiers are very impressive."

At that their discussion was interrupted when a faint chime sounded from the table near Kayupa's end. He nodded briefly to Jovis and the woman before operating the controls at his end and the room lit up significantly more as the hologram walls became blank and a single holographic figure appeared at the end of the table. The new hologram took on a life and face of its own, the surface rippling like waves in water, constructing motion and features. The identity was intentionally shrouded.

Standing up, Kayupa clasped his hands behind his back and greeted the hologram with his most confident smile. But Jovis noticed more, something he was surprised he could detect. This General, this Kayupa, was always so cool and in control, but now there was something more. If Jovis had to describe it in a word, he'd have to go with 'humility'.

There's always a bigger fish, Jovis thought to himself.

"Eclipos," Kayupa rasped. "It warms my heart that we were able to meet up at this time. You will be happy to know that our mission is undergoing much progress. The final stages of the reshaping are underway. A few more days and we'll be ready to launch our offense." Surprisingly Kayupa looked down at Jovis and motioned for him to stand. "I'd like you to meet Jovis, my friend, the latest addition to our cause. He's provided much support in terms of personnel and his company has made this whole venture much more joyful."

Jovis felt like the man was talking about someone else. Though he felt the communication between him and the General had strengthened considerably in the last week, the way the General mentioned him sounded like an old friend. Jovis suspected the General was laying it on a bit thick, perhaps to assure this new party for his own ends.

"And I have to say - "

"Spare me the bantha dung, General!" the hologram blurted roughly in a distorted voice. The voice was human however, Jovis noted. "Get to the point! I've invested a lot of credits into this. Much is at stake, General, do not assume the numbers on my account mirror my patience. I'm not interested in details. I'm interested in the end product."

Kayupa hid his anger under a mask of inferiority, but only barely. "When you hired me and my army for this task, you were begging for my help. You hired me because you knew I could deliver. In our previous engagements I've never let you down once..."

The hologram cut in. "But that was different, that was tiny insertions against groups and kingdoms in the Unknown Regions. Although great achievements at the time, they are puny by comparison. We're not fighting amateurs anymore. We're fighting the New Republic."

He didn't know why, but the sound of those words sent shivers down Jovis's spine. It occurred to him only then the mammoth size of the project. He looked over at the woman who was strangely enough looking back at him.

Fighting the New Republic…

"The Republic outmatches us in every way. As grand as your army has grown over time, the Republic is still the greatest enemy I've ever pitched you against. And as before I expect nothing but complete success. The Republic will not stop at your capture, General. They will continue to dig deeper and eventually they will be led to me and that is unacceptable." The man smiled slyly. "Success is everything. Defeat…is everything."

Kayupa's fists tightened behind his back. "I've never lost once. I do not intend to start now."

"I pray you don't, General," the man said, "you know the stakes. You know what is at risk. This has been our lifelong Dream."

Kayupa turned his face aside. "Its our lifelong obsession. For you, as well as for me. We both want what is best for our Galaxy. Everyone here knows the risks." Kayupa looked back at the hologram. "We will prevail."

The hologram seemed unassured. "Make sure you do, General. If you fail, you will find it a better fate inside a Republic prison than face to face with my wrath."

Jovis found it odd but somewhat comforting to see the General out of his element. To know that he too had superiors, that he too knew the gut-wrenching sensation of pretending to be humble before one's master. Jovis had served many people in his days but he'd never liked anyone of them. Maybe he was being unfair but how could he like someone who had to pay others, mercenaries and assassins, to kill someone? And although Jovis cared only for the money, he had gained an ability to sniff out trouble and the weak. Kayupa was full of trouble, but never weak.

The woman across the table was still glaring at him, and he thought he heard her voice in the back of his mind.

Before he knew why, Jovis stood and addressed the hologram. "I may be out of line and in for a world of pain, but it seems to me that this bickering is pointless. You've hired the General, he's hired me. We're all hired to do a job," Jovis pointed his finger at the hologram, "a job you aren't able to do otherwise we wouldn't be here. But this is not a product, and we are not in competition. The job you hired us for isn't completed overnight. We're not exactly throwing a party here, we're taking on the strongest group in the Galaxy. You've hired us for war against the Republic," Jovis stated bluntly, "wars take months, years, maybe even decades."

Kayupa stood next to him, his face blank but fierce. Jovis didn't know if it was anger or maybe admiration for what he'd done. Surprisingly, to Jovis most of all, the man's visage melted and he smiled. "My colleague is right. Direct, but right. I've not failed you before, and after all the years I've served you, Eclipos, I think a little of the patience your kind is infamous for is out of line. You know my strengths, you know my results." Kayupa softened, leaning against the table with a confident smirk on his face. "The Republic will fall. You will have your Galaxy."

The hologram slowly removed its unpleasant gaze from Jovis. "Once this task is completed, a grand reward awaits you, General. Your army will grow into armies, and your name shall be renown among all that live in this Galaxy. Your reward will be endless."

Kayupa seemed unaffected. "Fulfilling my destiny, is reward enough."

"Have you received any reply from the Republic's forces?"

Kayupa stiffened. "No, I haven't. I transmitted my declaration of occupancy, but I've heard no reply whatsoever."

The hologram straightened. "Then allow me to inform you that a vessel carrying Republic special forces recently left Coruscant, headed for Regana."

Kayupa didn't look surprised. "I suspected it would not be long before some kind of retort came our way. My men expected it also and are ready."

The hologram nodded. "Excellent, General. I pray you will be the worst nightmare the Republic could ever imagine, and the shining fulfillment of our Dream."

Kayupa whisked his hand across the controls. "End transmission."

The room darkened instantly until the room's own lights flicked on, the hologram irising out of existence. Appearing weak and faint, Kayupa was leaning with his knuckles on the table, a torn look on his face. Jovis contemplated whether or not he should address the man's sudden fatigue, but realized as he'd always done that if the General wanted anything from him he would ask.

The silence was almost unbearable and Jovis for the first considered that the General might resent him for the comment he'd made during the meeting.

Jovis wished himself light-years away. "W - was I out of line?"

Kayupa shook his head slowly. "No. Its not you."

Nodding reassured, Jovis pointed to the projector. "So that's our better? This Eclipos. The one we're doing this for."

"Not him," Kayupa scowled angrily, but not directed at Jovis. "For the people."

At that the doors opened and Junn, the lieutenant of the troops, strodded into the dining room. She looked around at each of them, stopping at Jovis, clearly surprised to see him there. She wore her normal fatigues, along with the two blasters, strapped to her thighs. She looked back at the others, and Jovis could tell by her face that she noticed something was out of the ordinary.

"Ah, Junn," Kayupa said as he sat back down, the tone of his voice more normal now. "How delightful of you to join us."

She pulled up a chair, frowning at Jovis as she picked out a plate. "I didn't know we were entertaining."

"We're celebrating the completion of Jovis's men's training," Kayupa said.

Is that what we're doing? Jovis thought, noticing that Kayupa changed the subject now that Junn was present. Were they hiding things from her too?

Junn smirked, choosing a piece of meat from the platter nearby. "Completion?" she said testily, "that's a bit ambitious of you, Jovis."

Startled at first that she was even talking to him, he managed to conquer the initial surprise. "You don't think they're ready?"

Junn shook her head, as she began eating. "Simulators don't make soldiers. Experience makes soldiers."

"They have experience," Jovis asserted.

"Not the kind we need," she countered.

"You don't approve?" Kayupa asked.

"Oh, I approve," she mocked, lining up an insult, "they'll make great buffers."

Jovis felt a surge of rage and betrayal, but given the recent trust that the General had shown him he thought it unwise. Junn wasn't going to break him that easily. "They'll do their job."

Junn laughed. "I'm sure they will, but it isn't a job for the rest of us."

Kayupa looked harshly at his lieutenant. "Junn - "

"Eulogy," she insisted. "Names mean nothing on the battlefield."

Jovis didn't get it. "Eulogy?"

"Yes," Junn - or Eulogy as she preferred - said irritably, "Eulogy is my codename. The name the soldiers know me by."

Kayupa grinned. "Yes, she tends to have the last say in a lot of people's lives. All of our inner circle have taken codenames upon themselves, as befitting their involvement within the army. Eulogy here...tends to be the last one out of the warzone."

Junn seemed to pay no attention to her General's words as she feasted. "I'm sure Jovis is aware of the implications, but once the bolts start flying, I wonder who will be the first of his men to hand in a resignation notice. After all, its just a job, right?"

Jovis smiled defiantly. "You got something against mercenaries?"

Junn poured herself a glass of wine. "Making a handy profit does not mandate killing."

"And being a soldier does?"

"Soldiers get paid too, Jovis, but not as handsomely as you. We're paid just enough to survive. We're not in this for the money. We're crusaders, not conquerors." Junn sipped her wine, her face twisted sourly at the taste of it and she put down the glass. "Soldiers don't kill for the money, they kill for their beliefs."

Jovis had just about enough of her self-righteous attitude, but still thought it wouldn't be prudent to make a scene now. It occurred to him that maybe the General was testing him to see what kind of man he was, using Junn as the vector. That was fine with him. He'd play along. "I have beliefs too."

Junn gave him a mock surprised look. "Do tell."

Jovis leaned over the table. "Killing is killing; if you're going to do it, you might as well profit from it.

Junn tilted her head. "But money has killed more people in history than war ever has. What do you think about that?" she teased.

Jovis shrugged. "I have no problem with what I do."

The General chuckled.

Junn smirked. "Good for you. I'll make sure to write that on your tombstone."

"Enough," the woman next to Junn said tensely, obviously fed up with their continuing verbal combat. The woman tossed Kayupa an irritated and tired glance, and the General merely nodded to her. It seemed they understood each other, though Jovis swore he thought Kayupa was more amused with the infighting that she was.

The General leaned forward. "How are the mercenaries doing?"

Junn smiled wickedly, but she looked at Jovis when she answered. "Just fine." Her voice was more professional now, her military tone. "I have no doubts they will be ready for when we need them."

Jovis smiled. She had been teasing him, she knew the mercenaries were up to this, undoubtedly as surprised by their progress as he was. She'd just been letting him on. Jovis looked over at the General and found the man smiling back at him, that devious look in his eyes.

Jovis couldn't help smile too. "You should play sabacc."

Kayupa laughed with his full heart. "I've never bluffed anyone without actually being part of the bluff."

"Hope you got your answers."

"I did," the man looked over at his lieutenant. "What about the troops?"

Putting the last piece of meat in her mouth, Junn smiled proudly. "Same as always."

"And…them?"

Jovis couldn't help wonder who he meant, but with the good feeling of companionship he now felt, he decided he didn't want to know. It could wait.

"Phase Two is completed," Junn answered carefully, "and Phase Three is already underway."

"Excellent," the man poured himself a glass of wine and held it up for a toast. "Then its time for a formal introduction." He held out his glass to Jovis. "Congratulations, Jovis. You can consider yourself a Son."

Although he suspected he should be smiling, Jovis had never experienced a terror as strong as the one slithering up his spine at that moment.

Kayupa lifted his glass. "To a prosperous and enriching partnership."

Jovis held up his partly empty glass, he'd been saving it, he wasn't used to drinking wine but this stuff was actually very good. Junn and the woman, the only person he had yet to figure out, raised their glasses too. "To a prosperous and enriching partnership," Jovis repeated.

The woman gazed upon the General affectionately. "To a prosperous and enriching partnership."

Junn picked up her glass, her eyes never leaving Jovis. "To the Sons of Destiny," she said calmly.

The four crystal glasses chimed on a bright note as they touched.

---

Feeling the cool droplets rushing over his chest and belly and the rest of his body, was a relief from the cell. The shower did wonders for his weary mind, it was relaxing to just cop out and enjoy something as simplistic as a shower.

As he came out dripping, the silver covered 2L handed him a towel. Rishi folded the towel around his waist; after Gravth had showed up in the bar all hell had broken loose. He'd lost Drennen, the man had slipped away in the fury, but the Twi'lek had bought it trying to fend off the mob. Rishi had kept his own for a few minutes but then the local police had showed up and a even larger fight had followed.

In the end most of the bar occupants had been arrested or killed, while the police had lost two of their men. Rishi had laid down his weapon and given himself to the police and they'd taken him in for questioning.

Rishi hadn't done anything illegal by their reasoning, the ones he'd attacked he'd done in self-defense. But he had spent the night in the Republic Detention Center, first undergoing a two-hour interrogation to explain his actions and what had happened. He didn't mind it too much, it beat dying in the bar after all.

Earlier today a message had reached the RDC from Master Skywalker, a relay from wherever he was, that explained that Rishi was part of an important investigation involving the terrorists threatening the Republic, and that it was crucial that he be released as fast as possible.

2L had then showed up and brought Rishi back to Master Skar's apartment for a shower and food before he headed back into his investigation.

"What now, sir?" 2L asked, "off to the nearest cantina and pick up a pair of women? That's what male humans do after they've spent the night in prison, correct?"

Rishi shook the towel through his short blond hair. "I was there for twenty-two hours, 2L. I haven't completely lost it."

The droid copied a smirk. "After hearing about your actions in the lower levels that got you into that cell, I would beg to differ." The droid's tone and voice changed into the more compassionate voice of a human. "What happened down there?"

"I was trying to find some information to help out Master Luke or Master Skar."

"Did you find any?"

Rishi was about to say no. He'd imagined Drennen to hold all the answers but the man was gone now. If not already killed, he would certainly not show up anytime soon. But he had been given another name; Crip. A man untouched by the events in the Staggering Tusken who wouldn't have gone into hiding. That was Rishi's next lead.

"I have one more option, someone called Crip. He was chums with Wedder Dhohji, the informant that died on the bridge."

Though 2L was just a droid he was also Master Skar's closest companion, even more so since the schism between Rishi and his Master. 2L knew everything that Master Skar knew. "The man who delivered the datacard?"

"Yeah. He was the one who knew Wedder best. He may know where that datacard came from and that might lead us to the terrorists."

"Would it not be more prudent to ask for the aid of the Republic?"

Rishi sighed. "I don't trust them, even less than they trust me." Rishi looked into the nearest mirror and saw the lines under his eyes, the tired and drained face he saw didn't look anything like him. "It makes you wonder sometimes. I'm sick of dealing with politicians, warmongers, officials," Rishi cursed, "and bureaucrats! Politicians are too wrapped up in their own agenda."

2L walked back into the living room. The room was bright white and had a bunk, a cabinet and a small kitchen. Other than that there was nothing, no small artifacts of emotional value. The apartment had no heart, it was empty, cold and sterile. Rishi figured this was how Master Skar would have preferred to live, he had never concerned himself much with comfort. 2L began preparing a meal in the kitchen and Rishi tried to make the lines under his eyes, and the tired look, go away by rubbing his palms over his face.

The droid shouted from the kitchen, "For someone who never bothers to learn about politics you sure have a quick way of labeling them. Wouldn't it be more prudent to have some notion of the world before you started hating it?"

Rishi splashed water on his face. "I don't hate the world. Just the lies people create in it, the distrust, the cavity that keeps us from being a civilization." He had no hate for anyone, just intolerance. "My role in the underground, people call me a renegade and a rogue, but I'm pretty much doing what they should be doing. All I do is help out the ones who can't defend themselves. The Republic are the ones starting wars."

When 2L appeared in the doorway again, Rishi could hear a pot steaming in the kitchen. 2L looked as concerned as a droid was able to. Something about the faint light in his eyes made him look almost sympathetic.

"I've known you all your life, Master Rishi, you've been like this for as long as I've known you, but I also know that your view of the Republic does not live up to its actual merits. The Republic is trying to establish a community where everyone is free to talk, a place where people can discuss things peacefully without resorting to fighting. That sort of thing does not happen in thirteen years. The Republic is still suffering from the wounds the Empire inflicted upon this Galaxy. If anything, I believe there are those in the Senate who applaud your attitude. And I doubt the people who live in the underground oppose your protection. The Republic has many things to deal with - "

"To look out for their own?" Rishi finished the sentence, though he suspected it wasn't what the droid would have said. "But what kind of a government is that?"

2L was ready for that one. "Its the government we live in, but it has not reached its final shape. Its still in the R&D stage. And there are honest people in the Senate who take kindly to your actions. Mon Mothma and the Chief of State, Leia Organa Solo."

Rishi knew Leia, Luke's sister, had met her a few times and her warm words had often kindled any doubt he might have had about the Republic. If anyone was ever going to put the Republic on its right course, Leia was the one.

Rishi looked down at his hands clutching the sink under the mirror. Their red, symbolic tattoos reminding him of his heritage and his commitment, but like Master Skar he had taken his own path, finding his own way to better the situation, and yet they still disagreed. Master Skar called his deeds in the underground pointless. But to him they made more sense than anything he heard the Senate decided upon.

Rishi looked up at 2L, and then took a second glance at the heartless apartment. Even the cell he'd spent the night in seemed more homely than this place. At least there you could tell someone was living in it. Rishi walked over to the small dresser next to the unmade bunk and chose a random shelf.

Inside it, wrapped in a piece of cloth, laid a lightsaber. It took Rishi all of five seconds to recognize it as Master Skar's old one. Rishi allowed himself a curt smile, the lightsaber looked almost as poorly created as Rishi's first, rushed and clumsily built. It was the lightsaber Master Skar had build for himself after losing his uncle's thirteen years ago, after he'd nearly lost his very sanity. To carry a lightsaber was an example of incredible skill and confidence, dexterity and attunement to the Force. But this…it looked more than anything like it belonged in the apartment.

Rishi frowned as he placed the lightsaber back in its shelf and took another look at the cold and soulless apartment. "He doesn't like to decorate, huh?" Rishi joked.

2L gave him a questioning face. "What are you referring to?"

"This place."

2L looked around in the apartment, apparently noticing for the first time that the apartment didn't look like anyone lived in it. Only the unmade bed suggested someone had been here recently. "Master Skar...is a minimalist. He thinks that memories should be kept in the heart, not the bed-stand."

Rishi laughed. That was his Master alright. "He's always been like that. He refused to go back to Kryuu to get the Holocron, even though it could have helped out the Jedi Order?"

2L defended the action. "Master Skar has painful memories of that place."

Rishi didn't doubt that from what he'd heard about Master Skar's past. But the man should have been strong enough to go through bad memories if he knew it would help out the future generations. It seemed a bit selfish, but then again Master Skar had always been a shut-in. Which made Rishi wonder how he'd ever become the man's apprentice. Offhand Master Skar didn't seem to be the kind of person who would undertake such a task, having to spend so much time and effort on someone other than himself.

Rishi leaned against the doorframe. "It makes you wonder what I'm doing here. Why would someone like him take an apprentice?"

2L jolted. "What do you mean?"

Unlike Master Skar, Rishi was able to smile at the bad memories in his life. "When I was a child on Draori we believed the ones who were killing our people were gods, and that they were angry at us for some reason. We did everything we could to please them, but of course they didn't care because they weren't really gods, so they continued to slaughter us." Rishi rubbed his chin. "Master Skar saved us from them and gave us a new home. But he didn't have to take me as an apprentice. There was no reason for him to take me as an apprentice, other than guilt or maybe pity."

2L answered quickly. "Master Skar always told me he chose you among the others because you were the strongest of them, you were the only one who seemed to understand the gift."

Rishi frowned. "He could have trained the others to be even stronger than me if he'd taken the time. The sheer idea of him taking an apprentice, being the kind of man he was, seems out of place."

The droid looked away, contemplating whether or not to answer Rishi, wondering if the words were not meant to be said, or if Master Skar had ever intended to tell them to the apprentice. In the end the droid nodded to itself and then looked back at Rishi. "Master Skar chose you…because he recognized himself in you."

Rishi found that hard to believe. "What? He was a great warrior, how was I even close to being like him?

The droid shivered a second, something Rishi had never seen in a droid before. "Because of your parents."

"What?" Rishi had lost his mother to one of the Kjoil Epigones, and later his father in the revolt during the evacuation of the refugees. But Master Skar had never known his parents. "What did my parents have to do with it?"

The droid tilted his head. "Nothing directly, but Master Skar saw an old pain in you that reminded him of his own. He believed that maybe through helping you get over yours he could find an outlet for his own."

Rishi hugged himself, and it wasn't just the lack of clothes that made him feel cold. "Shinran, the one he lost. He mourned her for a long time." A very long time, Rishi almost added. Even though almost a decade and a half had passed he could still sense hints of that pain in his Master, hints he hadn't been trained enough to sense when he'd first met him, but could now. Master Skar had seemed so powerful at first, and in ways Rishi was still the small boy who thought of the man as the god he'd believed him to be back then.

He remembered vaguely Skar being involved with another woman in their camp, one named Cartra. But she'd died in the battle that followed in the evacuation of the refugees. Once the battle was over Skar had gone back out into the place where the battle had been heaviest and found her body. He'd buried her there and returned to the evacuation ship with nothing but a stern look on his face and they'd left the planet behind. Skar had never spoken of Cartra since then, and Rishi had never asked. Coming to Coruscant had been so overwhelming to them both that Rishi figured Master Skar must've forgotten her too. But knowing the Master as he did now, he believed Cartra would always hold a place in his heart.

Just not one as big as Shinran.

2L remained in his pose, a heaviness in his shoulder that made him look almost human. "Master Skar still mourns her. Before Master Skar arrived on Draori he had spent two years contemplating how to get over his loss. That is why he has become so edgy. He believed that confronting the pain would make him stronger and that he would eventually be able to free himself of it. But instead he lost himself in pain. It wasn't until he chose to go to Draori that he realized that he'd achieved nothing in those two years. He felt he had to go someplace new, someplace alive. Somewhere where he could feel life again. Someplace natural. Someplace alive in the Force. A place that civilization and technology hadn't devastated yet."

Rishi nodded. "Kryuu was that kind of place."

"Yes, but it had painful memories. It was Draori that saved him. The fight he took up there gave him back his understanding of his role as a Jedi. And it was through you that he wanted to make amends to the Force for those two years he felt he'd wasted. You were in a sense," 2L said carefully, "his redemption."

Rishi's heart turned to slag. Why had Master Skar never told him any of this? It seemed like someone you would want someone to know. Rishi blamed himself slightly. There hadn't really been an outlet in the last few years for his Master to come forth and tell Rishi. But it was the thing Rishi had missed, it was that connection to his Master that had kept them apart.

Master Skar was protesting against his actions in the underground because he didn't want Rishi to do the same thing he did; lose himself in a place he would later regret. And he supposed that explained why Master Skar had retreated back into a state of longing and depression, having lost the redemption he'd supposedly found in Rishi.

The kitchen clock chimed and the droid waddled off. Rishi felt a feeling of completion he'd never had before. At last it seemed there would be a light over the horizon. Rishi looked down and saw that he was still only wearing a towel. Rishi looked back up to see 2L holding a plate with dinner on it. The droid held it out to him.

Rishi shook his head and opened the cabinet, searching for clothes he could borrow. "I haven't got time for dinner." Rishi found a Jedi uniform, black and blue, much like his own, only this one had never seen use. Dressing himself, Rishi fastened the belt and clipped the lightsaber to his side. "I have to find that man." Rishi pulled on his boots, smooth and tight. "Its time I got back to my duty. Master Skar will still need my help." The Force burned brightly inside him, here was a task he could fulfill, and a step towards helping his Master. "If I can help him someway, I have to."

2L nodded, plate still in hands. "I understand. But do be careful this time, it wouldn't look well if Master Luke had to call in another favor." The droid made an electronic chuckle. "Remember that a Jedi in a prison-cell isn't a long term solution, as you are very inventive sorts. They'll most likely execute you on the spot this time." The droid looked over Rishi, noting his dark tunic and pants, Master Skar's old Jedi uniform. Both Rishi and Skar seemed to have a tendency for dark clothes. "That way you'll get your preferences, I hear they bury the dead in black."

Rishi had to contain himself from laughing. "They'll bury you right next to me, as an accomplice. They won't even shut you down. Eternity, in a black hole in the ground, with my smelly corpse right next to you."

The droid's photoreceptors lit up. "Sir, do be careful!"

Rishi smiled. "I will. I only hope this Crip can help me."

The droid nodded and looked insulted, as much as it was capable off. "I suppose the night has left you a little eager for human communication, hasn't it?"

Rishi thought the droid was hurt at first, but as he found himself in the adverse situation of having to explain to a droid that he honestly did like its company, he thought better of it. "Its my duty."

"Are you sure you'll be able to find this Crip?"

Rishi shot a quick smile at 2L. "I have the Force."

2L tilted its head in an ironic gesture. "Aren't we sure of ourselves all of a sudden?"

The Kjoil youth felt great pride swelling inside him, along with the constant warm caress of the Force. "Yeah."

"Sir, aren't you overlooking one thing?"

"What?"

Unexpectedly, the droid lifted the plate above its head and then smashed it down onto the floor, shattering the plate. Food flew in every direction and the droid placed its fists at the hips. "I made dinner!"

Althought stunned at first, Rishi couldn't help but laugh.

"Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"Did Master Skar put you up to this?" Rishi touched the panel near the door and the door swooshed open. "I thought you had a male programming. Don't get all … housewife on me."

The droid was enraged. "Housewife! Is that all I am to you!"

Grinning, Rishi disappeared out the doorway but could still hear the droid yelling out in the corridor.

"That's the last time I cook for you!"

---

As always opening his mind to the Force was a demanding experience. Millions of impressions, images and feelings flooded to him from all corners of the living world. He was a black hole that sucked in everything, choosing which sensations that were useless and which he needed. Which had knowledge he needed. He suspected this excersize would give him nothing, it rarely had and he wasn't that fond of exposing himself to the world on such a level.

Most of the time he was secluded, alone, and connecting with the Force in such a way made him feel inadequate. To know that there were so many parts of the world where his abilities and powers were needed. It was painful to know that no matter how feverishly he worked, no matter how much of himself he gave, he could never help everyone. It was the burden every Jedi carried.

Slowly but surely he could feel the Force taking control of this link, pulling him under, turning it into an audience with a spirit world rather than a link with the universe itself. He'd tried this sort of link with the Force before. A link which on the outside left his body dead, while his mind was very much alive. Skar had no perception of whether time still moved on the outside, in here it stood still.

Skar surrendered himself to the events and only listened to the fleeing souls crying in the backdrop. Only hoping to hear the advice that the Force had called him out of life for. Darkness clouded all around him and he began to feel an unnatural warmth. Invisible blankets wrapped him tight and he soon felt himself falling towards blackness. After a few seconds of confused tumbling Skar felt himself hit the ground, only to feel it soften beneath him, almost like foam.

You don't belong here.

He quickly raised himself on his feet, pulling out his lightsaber as he rose in the darkness. He turned around himself, but found no source of light. Ravenous darkness flowed around him like a fog. The veil pulled over his eyes kept him from seeing the identity of the voice.

This place is beyond you.

The voice spoke again in a familiar way, but Skar was distracted as he began to see a light in the distance. Yet it was so faint he wasn't sure he wasn't just seeing spots before his eyes.

You struggle so hard to keep your anonymity and yet you throw yourself at the first chance to find something which people will remember you for.

The light grew, into a tiny needle point which ribbed open a fine cut in the darkness, showering him in a glare so bright to his delicate eyes he had to block it with his hand. Light figures appeared around him, like statues, holding court over his soul in between existence and death. Skar saw no faces on either of them, saw only the hovering spirits. Skar breathed, but knew he wasn't breathing air, he was breathing the Force. Skar looked around, not sure that the spirits were that of the Force he was used to. These felt oddly different, almost malevolent.

And you're corrupting your apprentice as well; forcing your own insecurity about your role onto him.

Gray phantoms of past friends began to wander across the darkness before him, laughing, singing, mocking him for who he was. Mocking his choices, mocking his losses, mocking his feelings. His mother laughed, his father laughed, Kayupa laughed. Visions came to Skar with flashes, some clear, some obscure and unnatural.

In some visions he saw forests burning with flames, people flying off into the sky thinking they were saved, a young boy by his side asking for his guidance, a vision of Kayupa sitting next to him giving advice, a feeling of pain, a feeling of loss. Images of a small clone baby growing inside a man-size glass cylinder.

Pictures of a mother and father holding hands, with their son by their side. Pictures of a young Jedi jumping into action to protect his Master. He tossed, trying to mentally make it all fit inside his head, but the tornado of revelations whirled in his head, leaving him defenseless against them. The pain was building inside his head, but he managed to subside it with a quick technique. The mocking words lingered though, tormenting him.

You may think you can change the future with your unique ability to dodge fate, but not this time. This time it will be your undoing.

"Who are you?" he uttered, his hands on the sides of his head, trying to press the pain out through his eyes.

Things exist in life that you can't see, hear or even touch. There is more than the physical form of life. Some think life is meaningless, yet they still strive to stay alive, but to what end? If life is meaningless, why live at all?

It was Kayupa's voice talking, soon enough filtered out again in the chaos of phrases uttered too low to understand but deafening in multitude. The pain continued to digress, building itself with each second, his head filling with random phrases, some of them which he recognized and others that were spoken in foreign languages, alien tongue he didn't understand.

Skar performed a Jedi mind control trick on himself, trying to block out exterior sounds and impressions, but it proved worthless here. The mind trick worked against outside distractions, but the voices thundering in his head were not outside; they were inside his soul.

Anyone who thinks life has no meaning, isn't worth the gift of life at all. They just need to open their eyes to all the life around them. Look at this place, you're sitting in a room with beings from all over the Galaxy. In different shapes and forms, but all of them need to have the same faith in existence. Everyone has an idea of what the purpose in life is.

And they operate from that idea to meet that goal.

Skar's torment built up inside of him until he couldn't take anymore. "What do you want from me!"

Silence. So abrupt and suddenly that Skar feared he'd gone deaf. He snapped his eyes open and found himself on all fours, staring down into a surface that waved like water but reflected his image like a mirror. It even seemed to glow on its own, since it was the only light there. Out to his left and right, darkness hid the borders of this unnatural place with perfect efficiency.

Skar pulled himself up, looked around for a portal or anything that would lead him away. He searched his own mind and defenses to see if leaving the place required any mental key. Nothing seemed to make it stop.

The waving glow around his feet extended in a circle to take up a another two meters in size. There, in front of him at the edge of the circle, stood the light figure he'd seen before. The being's glowing presence began to shift within itself as it took on limbs, what started as feet became long legs that eventually touched the waving floor, the fists extended into arms that collected themselves at the back of the figure. The head rose slowly up from its chest to look at him, the face itself a beacon of light with very small details, but Skar could see a set of eyes looking back at him.

"Why are you here?"

Skar realized it was Kayupa standing there in spirit, smiling at him. But it was the young image of Kayupa, not the older man he'd seen in recent holos. Maybe the Force was showing him Kayupa the way he remembered him best, maybe Kayupa had chosen this image personally.

"Kayupa? So you're...alive?"

Kayupa shook his head, leaving trails of vapor with the motion, as if he was slowly withering. "What are you doing here?"

Skar held out his hands. "I don't really know. I'm on my way to meet you."

"I know," Kayupa said. "But that's not why you're here."

Skar didn't know what to say. "I came looking...for memories of you. Trying to understand what's going on."

"Memories? I didn't leave enough of an impression?" he chuckled. "What does a guy have to do?"

Skar didn't think it was funny. "I hold on to the memory of you, the good parts of you. But it's keeping me back."

"You're just lonely, Skar. You're looking for a future in the past. Do you think your life will improve in any way if you remember me better? Can it help you in some way, help you do any of the things you've neglected for so long?"

"I..." Skar's heart felt like a ball of steel, growing inside his chest until it could burst through his bones. "I don't know, alright?" he snapped. "I don't know what I was thinking. You're right. I am lonely."

"You haven't exactly let anyone in. You've been looking for the companionship of people that are already dead," he looked over at Skar, "and I'm not just talking about me."

Skar let out all his frustration in a deep breath. "I know. I was hoping...she might still exist on some level. Her body joined with the Force, although she wasn't trained in the Force. I don't understand it. And if you're here, then she must be here too."

Kayupa nodded.

Skar's eyes narrowed. "You're hiding something from me."

Kayupa chuckled lightly. "If it helps, if it makes your progress any easier, you will meet Shinran again...soon."

Skar was afraid to smile, or to actually trust Kayupa again. "How do you know?"

Kayupa smiled that devilish grin that had always taunted Skar, that smirk that never really let Skar know just what was going on behind Kayupa's eyes. "She told me."

Skar frowned. "What's going to happen? You want me to come to Regana, but why?"

Kayupa was still smiling fiendishly. "Its a surprise."

"What? What is this place? These spirits - "

Kayupa turned around fast, as if he sensed something. "Someone is coming," Kayupa said and then vanished like into a mist of tiny stars. Faster than eyes could process it seemed. Skar looked around him, confused as to whether it really had been Kayupa's ghost.

"Kayupa!"

But no answer came.

But a new voice, a kinder voice, emerged in the thick of darkness.

This is a crossing.

Skar turned to see the long-dead Master Bo-Hi Dzog standing outside the circle of light, dimly illuminated by the glow coming from the floor. The Master looked himself, the brown and black cloak, the infamous Kel Dor's face hadn't gotten any prettier in the afterlife, but yet the eyes exuded a calming kindness.

"Master!" Skar said, filled with the joy of reunion.

Master Bo-Hi nodded. Its a special medium in the Force reserved for the Kjoil, called the libberatium. Each Kjoil has a special link to the Force, like a frequency, a special 'code' that allows it access to particular areas of the Force.

Skar was shocked to realize this wasn't the first time he'd been here. "I - this was what I felt…back on Soliton, when I was falling off the cliff with Kayupa. This place, it was there when I woke up." Skar gasped. "But it was filled with Sith ghosts back then."

The Jedi Master confirmed it. This was it, yes. But the ghosts you sensed, the ones that called out to you, they are not a part of this place. Those ghosts came from within you. It wasn't this place that was evil. It was what was inside you. Your own Darkness. Master Bo-Hi hugged himself. The libberatium is a place you can visit to seek the guidance of previous Kjoil who have passed on to the Force, as well as the souls and spirits of those you've encountered in your life. Since its continuation is based on the energy that resides inside the Force, it is only Force-sensitive people like me and, for that matter Kayupa, who reside here.

Skar found that to be odd. "Kayupa both has...and is a spirit?"

The Jedi Master's response had hints of despair. Yes, and a vibrant one at that. I haven't add much opportunity to confer with him. Somehow his presence keeps fading and reappearing. Almost as if his destiny is as of yet not determined. He hangs somewhere on the balance between life and death. Not truly alive, yet far from dead.

Skar listed to every word, trying to find some answer to why he'd been called here. "Why are you telling me this?"

The Jedi Master lifted his head. I've come to pass on information to you. Since I never told you about the libberatium, you didn't know it existed and I was called forth to bring you information that is very vital to you in the future.

"Called forth?" Skar asked.

By the Force.

Skar still felt small pieces of agony hanging around in his mind, like a hangover. "Why are there so many…memories?"

It is a reminder from those whom you've left behind. You should take note of each one, each of them holds a message.

There was a pattern in the memories, Skar gathered. "Its all Kayupa's words. Is he really alive?"

This time his Master's words were very clear. Yes.

Skar nodded, already knowing it to be true. "Master, there's something I don't understand. The texts read that a Jedi can become a spirit if he accepts and is ready when he dies. If Kayupa had accepted death when it came, how is it that he, a clone, could become a spirit?"

Who knows? The Force works in mysterious ways.

Skar didn't buy it. "I don't understand."

Master Bo-Hi elaborated firmly. Kayupa was cloned from Skind Kjoil using Spaarti cloning cylinders. It is a faster way of cloning than any other. The Spaarti cylinders have one key side effect. Clones produced through this method cause a disturbance in the Force, because of the identical patterns resonating in the Force. It creates an affliction in the clone called clone madness. It is a side affect that can be easily countered, and the Emperor did take precautions against Kayupa's growth.

But what we both saw, in those last days of Kayupa's life, his sudden rage and his near insanity, was a result of that. Skind's spirit betrayed him, hoping Kayupa would find the courage to take his own life. I went to Soliton only to try and save him, but…as you saw the effects were too advanced. There was nothing either of us could have done.

"But that doesn't explain how he's been able to retain his identity."

The Jedi Master sighed heavily. Kayupa's clone heritage didn't seem to inflict any grudge against him, from the Force's viewpoint. Maybe the man had achieved so much for himself that he found a small part of him that really was his one and not just a clone of Skind Kjoil. The Emperor sustained his youth through cloning. The effects the Dark Side had on him wore his body down and he moved from one clone body to another, his spirit in the Force hosting numerous subjects so he could live forever. Its possible Kayupa's spirit moved on to another clone.

Skar held out his arms in confusion. "Then what is he looking for? Last time he wanted to die - " Skar stopped talking for a second, as he felt a stab of guilt. "And he got his wish."

The Jedi Master's gaze was not the least bit comforting. His identity was forked. One side of him was the good, the friend, and my apprentice. And the other side was his Sith identity, brought on by the clone madness. If the Sith part of him has inhabited another clone it is possible it has grown much stronger, but also more unstable. There might not be much left of the old Kayupa in him -

"So I'll have to fight him again?" Skar cut him off.

Master or not, Bo-Hi seemed lost for a better answer. If that is his wish, maybe.

Skar took a deep breath. "If he's planning to destroy Coruscant, just like he did thirteen years ago, there might be a shred of the old Kayupa left in him. I may save him yet."

Master Bo-Hi looked up at him, hesitation hiding in his eyes. The Master took a deep breath and sighed, the sound of it carrying much pain. Skar, it is important you keep your focus on the future. However you may have felt towards Kayupa in the past, or still do, you have to realize that he cannot be allowed to live.

Skar looked at the Master, feeling slightly more hurt now. It hadn't really been his wish to turn Kayupa back to the good side, he only knew that if he was masterminding this attack on Coruscant it was his mission to stop it. Kayupa had been a friend, but Skar didn't know yet if he still was. He had hoped that maybe there had been a chance for him to have his friend back. He hadn't been able to say that to Rishi, but it was true.

Even though thirteen years had passed since then, a day didn't go by where Skar didn't think of Kayupa, not a time when he'd look in the mirror and not see a shred of his old friend in himself. Clone or not, Kayupa had been his companion. A man he'd once trusted enough to rebel against Master Bo-Hi even.

Like Shinran, Kayupa was a memory Skar longed to relive. "Why - Why can't I save him?"

A clone creates a disturbance in the Force. As long as Kayupa exists, the Force can never be in balance. For the New Jedi Order to have as much success as they're going to need, Kayupa must be destroyed. He cannot live, Skar, and it is your duty to face him again.

Skar's heart felt like a lightsaber had burned through it. "I - I don't know if I can!"

But you must. There can be no other way.

Skar didn't know what to say. He couldn't promise such a thing. It all depended on Kayupa. But what if the man could be saved? Was he wrong in wanting his friend back?

"But he was my friend. How can I kill my own friend!"

He was your friend before, Skar, and we both know what happened then. You can't trust him.

Skar sighed, almost pleading his Master to find another way. "But that was different. He was different. I didn't want to kill him then either. He only used me to try and break free, but I didn't kill him. I wanted to help him."

And did he want to be helped?

Skar clenched his fists, eager for someone or something to punch, to free him of the anger and frustration he felt. "No. He only wanted to die." Skar remembered how Kayupa had still drawn his sword at him, even after Skar had spared his life. And Shinran gave her life to do what Skar could not.

"He betrayed me."

The Jedi Master sighed with heavy guilt. I was the one that betrayed you. I could have avoided the tragedy. I thought I could keep it a secret from him. But before he left for Nar Shaddaa to take back the Jentarana, he told me he'd been to visit Skind's spirit. If you could have seen the look on his face - the look of a man who's found out that everything he was, was a lie.

Skar nodded, sadly. "We've both left tragedies in our wake, and we both have to live with it."

Master Bo-Hi's face lightened, and a careful smile came across his lips. And here I thought I was the one who would teach you. He chuckled slightly, and then his face clouded as if he remembered something else. You know….Shinran is alive in the Force too.

That name made Skar feel warm inside, yet the heat felt misplaced. He nodded slowly. "I've met her once on Nar Shaddaa." The statement itself made him think of something else. "I thought only Jedi could become one with the Force?"

Yes, that is…actually not far from what I was brought here to tell you. Only Jedi can join with the Force. Master Bo-Hi hugged himself, as if expecting a cold. And their offspring.

At first Skar disregarded the comment, and didn't count it as an answer. There didn't seem to be an answer in the words. Skar was about to push on for elaboration, then it slowly dawned on him. And the pain that came creeping up his spine with the knowledge felt like a million razors over his soul. Like an enormous thunderstorm rampaging through his mind. Like a hand had just dug its nails into his heart and ripped it from his chest.

"No - "

You've got a family waiting for you on the other side, Skar. Shinran was pregnant.

Skar stared in disbelief at the cloaked Master and started to pull back from the revelation. Skar refused to believe what he'd heard. Not knowing of a better thing to do, Skar immediately threw himself at the Force, reaching for comfort. The knowledge of Shinran's carriage was compounding too quickly for him to catch up. His thoughts raced endlessly, they found no root, they had no compass, they just circled around in his mind for what seemed forever.

In the end Skar raced across the darkness, grabbed onto Master Bo-Hi's shoulders, clutching his fists on the fabric, pulled Master Bo-Hi to his face. "No, that's not true! You…LIAR!" he shouted, his words filled with hatred.

Master Bo-Hi's expression offered no compassion, and no other answer. I wish it were so.

Skar couldn't believe it, he kept his grip on the Master, not for hateful reasons, but only to steady himself as he felt his knees buckle beneath him, the floor seemed more than ever to be made from water.

Skar fell to his knees, supporting himself against his Master.

Master Bo-Hi's hand touched the top of his apprentice's head. The union between you and her was sanctified by the Force and a child was given to you, a boy. You would have been a father if Shinran hadn't given herself to saved you from turning to the Sith. That was to be your reward. But instead Shinran cheated fate and gave herself. Master Bo-Hi's shape began to diminish, slowly evaporating into nothing. You are a father, Skar.

Skar felt Master Bo-Hi slipping away in his hands. Skar fell to the floor, desperation and abomination following his every move. Of all the things he'd thought that would ever come back to hurt him from the past, this had been the last thing he'd suspected. To think that the one time that he and Shinran had had the blessing to make love in their all too brief time together, had given them a child.

"Where is Shinran? I have to talk to her!" Skar remembered all the nights he'd prayed for that very same thing, and remembered the stale cold response he got from the Force. "I have to see her!"

Master Bo-Hi's face was all that remained of the ghost. And it was all there was needed to answer Skar's request. Master Bo-Hi's eyes closed and his face shook slowly from side to side. That cannot be.

Skar didn't bother to fight back to tears. "I need to talk to her!" his cry echoed against the invisible walls of his torment. "Shinran!"

Master Bo-Hi said nothing.

Skar rose himself and stepped forward, broken and shattered on the inside. "You - you said you had information about the future?"

Master Bo-Hi was nothing more than a glimmering fragment of light. I've already given it to you.

And then he was gone.

Horrorstricken and compounded in emotional pain the Jedi Master left his pupil behind to live with the knowledge. Skar looked around, hoping somewhere in the darkness Shinran's face would be looking back at him.

But it didn't.

Skar coiled his hand into a fist and screamed with all the force he could to try and make the pain go away, but all it did was leave an echo of his pain jumping out from the darkness. A light hum began ringing in his ears and the ground shook as a quake riveted through it. And as the darkness exploded in a brilliant light, returning Skar to his own time, Skar wondered how the information he'd obtained had anything to do with the future. How could knowing Shinran was pregnant at the time of her death help him in the future?

---

The alley near the hangars where Crip was supposed to operate from was vacant. Rishi damned his luck but decided to stay put for a moment, waiting to see if the man would return. Things could not have gone more worse for his mission, Rishi thought. The incident in the bar where he'd ended up wounding and killing people, that could have been avoided. He'd been too brash, too quick to jump to a solution, not knowing if it was the right one, only knowing it would save time. What cut him deepest was the fact that he'd lost Drennen after the incident. Those men had died in vain, and it was on his conscience. He'd always thought he had a good bead on himself and his emotions, but the bar escapade proved him wrong.

Rishi slid down the wall in the alley and stared at the opposite wall, mentally playing through the events to search for other options. He didn't like second-guessing himself, but given the magnitude of the things he'd done he thought he owed it to the dead. He would have to acknowledge whether or not he had done the proper thing, in order to give their souls some rest.

That was all he could do.

Rishi bowed his head down between his knees, and sniffed at the fabric of his Master's clothes. He couldn't scent anything familiar, probably because Master Skar objected to wearing traditional Jedi garments. Rishi shared some of the notion, but he'd come to realize that wearing a Jedi cloak was a good deterrent. It was useful in the underground, where everyone was a potential enemy. The cloak changed their mids.

Footsteps coming his way down the alley pulled him away from such thoughts, and he was quick to hide his presence using the Force. A man came around the corner, an old man wearing dusty clothing and a chain around his neck. His shoulder-length gray hair and wild beard made him look like someone how'd been trapped on a deserted island for too long.

The man leaned against the opposite wall, checking his chrono, looking down both of the alleyways. Rishi might've catalogued it as nervousness, but on closer inspection he decided it was fear. Rishi got up, accidentally knocking a bottle over on the pavement, catching the attention of the man.

"Who-who's there?"

Rishi removed the cloak of the Force and held up both his hands. "Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you."

The man pressed himself up against the wall, still eyeing Rishi with his beady eyes, his lips trembling with fear. "You…you're Jedi?"

Drawing a quick annoyance, Rishi sighed lightly. "Somewhat." He couldn't wait for the day when the name Kjoil would be seen next to Jedi. He was sick of being labeled as Jedi. That wasn't what he was. Rishi smirked mentally; he was better than those wannabes. "Are you Crip?"

The man nodded hesitantly. "You know me?"

"I'm investigating the death of one of your friends. Wedder Dhohji. I was hoping you might be able to tell me something."

Crip was still shaken, but managed a small frown. "Wedder is dead."

"I think you know more." Rishi read the man's thoughts, filed through the emotions of panic that laid over each of them, trying to find out why the man was so on edge. "Who are you running from?"

Crip overcame his fear of Rishi and walked over to stand next to him, concealing himself in the darkness of the alley. "Mercenaries!"

Rishi stepped over so he could cover the man from any threats down the alley, hiding him behind his form. "Don't you mean hunters?"

Crip shook his head. "That's only if they want you alive. Mercenaries only need bring back a limb, or a head. Sometimes even a drop of blood. Someone's after me. Assassins they are!"

"Why?"

Crip ran a hand over his filthy face, smudging the dirt there even more. "It started with Wedder, and now me. Someone's trying to take us off the street. I don't know who!"

This was interesting, Rishi thought. Could it have been the terrorists covering their tracks? "Because you know something."

"I don't know anything!" the man blabbed.

"Maybe they're after you for the same reason I am. Because you knew Wedder."

The man made a throaty laughter, very amused, yet his eyes still remained beady and jumping from place to place, looking everywhere for someone to leap out of the darkness and kill him. He was paranoid beyond hope. "Wedder was a colleague, nothing more."

Rishi frowned. "You knew Wedder better than that."

The man leaned up against the wall and then slid down it to seat up against it, like Rishi had when he'd come here. "You're right. He was a good companion, a good friend. We were more than just business partners. It saddened me to hear he died." Crip ran a hand through his wild hair, and placed his head between his kneecaps. "He was one of those people, you know? A person so close to you that you are able to share some things only with him." The man's shoulders dropped with sudden agony. "We used to be like that. And then when that person is gone, there will be nothing like that in your life ever again."

Rishi dropped down next to him, concealing them both behind a trashcan. "I didn't know him."

Crip looked up at Rishi, two lines of tears down his cheeks, washing away the filth somewhat. "Neither did I….but he was still my friend. Wedder was someone who you could tell everything, that's what attracted so many of his clients to him. He had a trustworthy face." Crip drew his face away again, and started to sob. "But even I never knew what went on under his facade. He had the most serious facade of anyone I know. To this day I find it hard to realize he knew everything that I wanted him to know about me, and all I know about him was that I could tell him anything."

Rishi could feel immense sorrow inside the man, but the events that had unfolded in the past few days motivated him to keep going, to find the information he was looking for. "So you don't know anything about his clients? Possibly if he'd been hired by someone new in the last few days?"

"Sure, sure," Crip muttered, but he didn't go on.

"Are you going to tell me?" Rishi asked.

The man looked back up, giving Rishi his business face, though the tears made it seem pointless and then he lifted up his hand, rubbed his thumb against his fingers. "This may seem like a cozy moment for you, but for me the meter is running. It'll cost ya."

Rishi felt like slapping the man, but decided against it. "I don't have any credits."

The man's brows furrowed, and he started to get up. "So I've been wasting my time here!" He finally got up, checked both alleyways and then lowered his voice again. "Wedder will be missed, but he will be missed when I'm off-duty. Right now there is money to be made. Since Wedder passed away, its become a better market for the rest of us. Right now the balance is outlined between us all and its all about striking first to earn the reputation as Coruscant's new top information broker."

Rishi crossed his arms, willing to detain the man against his will if he had to. "Do you know that what you're doing is immoral? Profiting off deceit?"

The man responded with another laughter. "Immoral? You've got to be kidding me!" The man stabbed a finger into Rishi's chest. "All I'm doing is moving information from place to place; you're the one carrying a weapon! If you want to talk about moral, there's plenty of religious maniacs out on the streets. You're forgetting where you are; this is Coruscant, a moral-free zone."

Rishi felt it was wiser not to go into that debate, the man might die of natural causes before Rishi had made his point. "I think Wedder was killed because he found out something dangerous. Even for him."

Crip stared at Rishi, a sudden flame of anger igniting in his eyes. "And I think he got killed because someone pushed him off a bridge."

Crip started to walk away, but Rishi grabbed onto his shoulder and pulled him back. Crip fought him at first, but Rishi was stronger. He didn't like using his strength against someone like Crip, but his patience had reached its end and he wasn't going to let this game go on anything further. "I want to know who hired him for his last drop-off. Who paid him to deliver that datacard to Skywalker?"

Crip fought against the hand squeezing him against the wall. "Hell if I know!"

Rishi added more pressure to his grip. "I think you do know. And I also think its connected to the bombing of the Senate and the terrorists in the Sumitra Sector." Rishi nodded his head back at the alleyway. "Or maybe I dump you out there on the street, making very sure everyone knows there's a bounty on your head."

The man's panicked face turned red with anger. "You wouldn't dare!"

Rishi didn't let go. "Someone hired him to deliver a datacard containing a personal message to my Master. It was sent to Skywalker because Skywalker was the only who was in contact with my Master. The datacard had a message in it, bait to lure my Master into a trap. I need to know who hired Wedder to set that trap!"

Crip resorted to the less tactful and bit down on Rishi's wrist. The pain was quick and Rishi drew back his hand from it, while Crip started to run for the nearby streets. Rishi bent down and then leaped down the alley, landing before the crazy man, pushing him back with the Force, dampening the noise with the Force from the people on the streets. Crip landed in a pile of trash, spitting curses at Rishi.

"You wanna die, old man? Save it for when we're through!"

Crip remained lying in the trash, panting through his thick beard, still spitting curses, his anger off the scale.

Rishi lifted his hand.

"Alright! Alright! I'll tell you what you want," the man surrendered. "You think Wedder knew what was in the card? No, he didn't. That's the first thing they teach you, never look at what you got, all you need to know is where it is supposed to go. To start fuddling around with your goods compromises your own safety. Wedder wasn't that dumb."

Rishi lowered the hand again. "He's never done something like that before?"

"Even if the answer is yes, that would only prove that he didn't look at the card. He wouldn't be stupid enough to make the same mistake twice."

"Was Wedder a moral man?"

Crip calmed down after that. "What are you talking about?"

"If he found something that he felt was dangerous or wrong, would he report it?"

Crip shook his head, picking off pieces of trash from his clothes. It didn't look any cleaner for it. "No, an information-broker like Wedder has to remain neutral, he's just the delivery guy."

Rishi placed his fists at his hips. "What about Wedder as a human, outside of work?"

The old man frowned and spat mucus on the ground in spite. "He knew better than that. People like us have no futures if we worry too much over the details. The less we know the better. If Wedder took a look at his item, which I seriously doubt, it would not only ruin his reputation as a trusted broker. It would also make him a potential target by those who hired him. We're not carrying around recipes, you know? Heck, I don't even want to know what kind of stuff has been in my hands. The less we know -

" - the better. Heard you the first time. But then why was Wedder running when I found him? He was running away from Skywalker. Something made him change his mind about delivering the bait for the trap."

Crip began to look more tired than angry, but there was still hostility in his tone. "Kid, I don't know all the details." The man let out one heavy breath. "But I know that Wedder didn't get paid for the assignment that killed him."

"What?"

Crip nodded, staring at nothing. "For some reason he was doing it for free. Something very un-Wedder-like. Someone or something spooked him. Maybe that's what he was running from."

Rishi stepped up to the man, and crouched down next to him. "But who? Who set the trap?"

Crip shook his head and threw his arms up in the air. "I don't know! He never told me any names. He met with the guy in a bar not too far from here. A Bothan, Rarsk Dokyan was his name. Rarsk is another broker just like me and Wedder. I've worked with him in the past. He was the last one to see Wedder alive."

Rishi rubbed his chin, and made a note of the new name. "This Bothan supplied Wedder with the datacard?"

Crip sighed. "Yes. But the Bothan is just another middleman. Whoever you're looking for sent the datacard to Rarsk and Rarsk then decided to call in the favor Wedder owed him. What happened after Wedder received the card and what spooked him like that, I can't guess."

Rishi rose again, searching the Force for any nearby threats. The place was clean, but only in the Force. "Guess I'll have to go see this Bothan."

Crip snorted. "Good luck. He's a strange sort. He rarely shows himself around daytime. You'll have to come back later. The bar he frequents is two streets down on the corner. "

Rishi almost smiled, he knew the directions. "The Staggering Tusken, right?"

"Right. But be careful down there. They don't appreciate humans too much."

"No kidding." Rishi didn't feel like sharing his experiences in that place with the old man, but knew it ruined his chances of showing up there. "You're sure this Bothan is just another broker?"

Crip supported himself against the wall as he got up. "No, like I said he's a strange guy. Bothans are the ones who invented the information trade. Bothans are all in all a very untrustworthy species because of their constant hungering for power. They'll stab their own brother in the back, even their own mother, if it helps them climb the power ladder. Basically Bothans are always connected, and they always know more than they lead on."

"So you don't trust him either?" Rishi asked.

Crip smirked. "Of course not; he does the same work I do. But he can probably tell you a whole lot more than I can. Just make sure you don't end up dead." Crip started walking down the alley and Rishi followed him, this time having no objections to leaving the man to his own fate, he'd found the information he needed.

"What about those assassins? Aren't you worried whoever wanted Wedder dead is coming for you next?"

Crip stopped at the entrance to the alley and gave Rishi another are-you-stupid face? "Of course I am."

"You should go someplace safe."

Crip coughed. "At my age its pointless to think you can run from Death." Crip smiled warmly. "Listen, one night over some Corellian malt Wedder let some of his secrets slip. Such as people he's worked for and the kind of things he's helped spawn simply by transporting a small datacard from one place to another. And let me tell you; with what I know of what he's done, you can bet your stars he ain't a moral man!"

"Why?"

Crip brushed some more dust off his clothes, and then took a look out at the street, seeing the many faces walking by, all the brilliant holograms and neon lights that held the night at bay. "If he had just half the moral of a normal person, Wedder wouldn't have been pushed off a bridge." Crip looked back at Rishi and Rishi spotted some sorrow there. "He would have taken the jump himself." With that Crip waved Rishi goodbye and walked out of the alley. "May the whatever be with you, son."

"I appreciate your help," Rishi shouted.

Crip was already out in the street, waving another hand at Rishi without looking back at him. "Don't say that too soon. You might not make it through the night."

---

It was only because of the second tumble that went through the ship that Skar finally managed to open his eyes and see the situation for himself. Equipment, crew and just about everything else had been thrown to the back of the ship, blocking the ramp. The ship was tilted in a very awkward position, only then to be completely reverted.

Skar flew across the hold, tons of equipment and soldiers following him, crushing down upon him as they crashed against the opposite wall. By the time Skar thought of using the Force to augment the situation, he'd forgotten all about the vision he'd had. And the pain-filled revelation he'd been given would have to wait until hell was over.

Skar reached out to the Force and lifted all of the equipment off him and the soldiers, letting them get up and in time he pressed himself up too. The soldiers hustled to rope down the equipment while Skar brushed himself off, noticing a nerve-wrecking pain splitting his way up his thigh. Skar ignored it for now as he jetted to the cockpit of the ship to find out what had happened.

As the compartment door slid open to the cockpit Skar was met with a blinding white blur that forced him to cover his eyes with his hand. At first imaging that the ship was on fire, he slowly realized what the white was.

Snow.

They'd arrived at Regana and by the size and scale of the mountains and terrain outside the screens, Skar concluded they'd breached the atmosphere. The pilot looked over his shoulder at him, his hands clenched around the controls, working franticly to gain control of the ship. Skar knew it was over for the ship, a quick look over the terminals told him that the main engine was shot to hell, the shield a thing of the past, and a crash was soon to come. The ship was flying on wind and gravity alone, in and out of ravenous mountains, the nose of the ship pointed straight.

The pilot screamed. "I've sent word to Coruscant! They'll send a rescue team! I tried hailing the recon team but there was no reply!"

Skar walked up behind the pilot seat, he gathered they only had a few minutes before this ship became a permanent piece of the landscape. Two of the soldiers came up behind him, one of them Kast. Skar saw the panicked look on their faces and ventured sardonicly, "this is where the fun begins."

Kast asked the obvious. "How did they spot us?"

The pilot's voice sounded very distraught. "This ship's invisible to radar," the man explained, "but not to the naked eye. We were not meant to come out this close! In this terrain, we stand out like a Rancor at a Jawa swap-meeting!"

"Cute analogy," Skar said calmly. "Move this ship as far away from the station as you can!"

"I've already launched the RATM, he can provide intel once we get down." Kast came up next to Skar, and made a lopsided grin. "Great stealth ship, huh?"

Skar didn't have time to appreciate the irony.

"Get the men ready to evacuate!" the pilot screamed, sounding like he was going out of his mind.

Kast shook his head. "The ramp's controls are destroyed. And we can't rope down at this speed, the ship is supposed to hover."

The pilot seemed too preoccupied to think of another idea. Skar took over, trying to keep himself as calm as possible. Panicking usually worked against you in situations like these. "We've got ejection pods, don't we?" Skar turned to Kast. "Pack as much as you can and get the men to the pods!" Skar turned around to the pilot. "If it still works, engage the auto-pilot and get yourself to a pod."

The pilot stared up at him. "There's not enough pods, the ship only has eight. There are seven soldiers and then you."

Skar shook his head, staring at the landscape outside rushing up to face him. "You can take mine." Skar said the words without emotion. He knew it was his duty as a Jedi to safeguard as many lives as he could, at the expense of his own safety. That was the nature of a Jedi.

The pilot jumped from his seat and flicked on the auto-pilot. It wouldn't save them but it would keep the ship steady in the course it was heading and it gave them enough time to get off it. The pilot turned on his heel outside the cockpit. "What about you?"

Skar waved him off, without turning to look at him. "I'll think of something. GO!"

Alone in the cockpit Skar seated himself in the sweaty pilot-seat and checked the terminals for any information he could use. The ship had been shot at by a ground mounted rocket launcher, according to the onboard computer, and the blast had taken out most of their maneuverability and control of the ship.

The ship had begun drawing a map of the outside terrain for its own directional understanding. Skar also learned from the ship that the incident he'd had with the boy, Red, had infact been two days ago. Skar had been out for two days, but to him it had only seemed like a few minutes. A few minutes that would stick with him for the rest of his life.

Which might not be that long, Skar thought as the landscape outside came closer and closer, not to mention more and more deadly.

Skar allowed himself to think beyond the current situation, allowed his mind to gather the pieces of information he'd acquired so far. Everything had happened so fast since that day a week ago when Luke had handed him the datacard. Signed by Kayupa. Confirmed by Master Bo-Hi that Kayupa's fate was not yet resolved, the Master hadn't been able to talk to Kayupa since his spirit fled in and out, always moving.

Kayupa was alive in some way, but not entirely his old self. He was the one who'd sent the datacard especially to Skar. A formal declaration of occupancy had been sent to the Republic, but a very personal and private message had been sent to Skar himself.

Kayupa wanted him here.

What is it you want from me, brother?

The terrorists had shot down the stealth ship certainly, but was killing Skar really all Kayupa wanted? Skar didn't believe so. More likely he'd shot at the ship to take out the soldiers, leaving Skar to face Kayupa alone. Skar wasn't deterred by that, but he'd seen the images of the Sons of Destiny soldiers, thousands of them, and he didn't want them to get between Skar and Kayupa.

But if Kayupa wanted to play, Skar would play.

Skar downloaded as much information as he could to his comlink, storing the information there so he could later extract it and study it closer on a datapad. The map he memorized instantly, copied it to his mind and preserved its details perfectly with the Force.

Skar returned to the hold. The soldiers were busy storing as much weaponry and equipment as they could into their satchels. Skar collected his own and strapped it on, then he began shouting orders to the men, ordering them to hustle and move faster. His words were needless, everyone knew the danger they were in. The soldiers grabbed as much as they could carry and cram into the one-man escape pods.

Even the young Red was rushing, the boy worked better than Skar would have thought he could. One by one the pods jettisoned with rocket velocity, and suddenly the crew compartment was almost empty.

The pilot was the last one, who barely noticed Skar as he jumped into a pod. The pod door didn't close before Skar had thrown a thermal jacket in with him. "You're gonna need this." Skar closed the hatch and launched the pod. The emergency vehicle shot off with an ear-splitting roar, Skar felt the ship shuttering beneath his boots and knew time was about to run out. He was carrying all of his gear and all he needed to do was to get off the ship.

The question was how.

It crossed Skar's mind slowly that the pilot seat in the cockpit might have an ejection switch, but doubted it since that wouldn't save the pilot if the ship was in deep space. That theory aside Skar wanted to check it anyway.

But he never got that far. A violent quake rumbled through the ship and Skar found himself tossed to the back of the ship, laying sprawled over the ramp. The very same ramp that he'd heard Kast say earlier, didn't work. Skar looked up at where he'd been standing before, only to learn that what had thrown him across the hold had not been natural. It hadn't been the ship tossing.

Skar laid there frozen as he felt a cold being surround him. He wanted to move but his body remained still. As the ship tore to pieces around him, flames erupting from pipes and controls, entire wall panels ripped open revealing the blinding light of the outside, Skar felt the Force preventing him from budging as it channeled itself through him, collecting some of his strength to manifest a presence before him. Skar could only obey as the Force weakened him.

A spirit appeared before him.

An aging old man wearing a black cloak appeared before him. Inside the eyes of this soul, a geyser of hatred and anger erupted, a lightning of evil. The man's eyes stared down at him with such contempt that one might think Skar had betrayed him in some past life. As it happened, he had. Skar could only meet the gaze unable to move away from it as the spirit pointed its gray finger at him. Skar recognized the spirit of Skind Kjoil, his uncle.

It was him.

"You…died?"

Before he got an answer, Skar gasped, feeling millions of tiny claws moving over his body, nailing him to the surface of the ramp, leaving him defenseless against the spirit of this madman. Skind Kjoil crouched down over his chest, his red eyes alive with hatred. Skind's face turned to look at the controls for the ramp Skar was lying on, closed his eyes, and a sputter of sparks flew from the controls.

Soon afterwards the ramp began to groan and Skar felt himself slipping as the surface he laid on tilted into a downwards angle. The cold wind of the outside howled all around him and Skar looked above him to see the snowy white plains beneath ship, almost like an ocean waving with the wind. Skar began to slide across the ramp, falling ever closer to the edge.

Skind's hand reached out and clutched around Skar's shin, holding him tight. Skind Kjoil hovered over him, his voice loud and full of rancor. "Hold yourself to your promise! No matter the cost!" Skind closed his eyes sadly. "Death...has been kept from us for far too long. Its time to bury the dead."

Skind Kjoil deteriorated and Skar was released from the hold Skind had put over him. Skar quickly reached out to hold onto something but his fingers slipped on everything and eventually he fell tumbling out the back of the ship, into the whiteness below, falling face down. He screamed, as the confusion surrounded him, as he saw the white snow racing up to meet him, racing faster and faster until he could almost reach out and touch it.

And then he did.

---

Kast hadn't missed a beat since his pod had set down in the snowy landscape. And now as he jogged south towards the site where the recon team should be based, he'd already primed his weapons and was ready for action. He knew others would be moving towards the recon team's site, it was the first objective. From there they'd assess damages and losses and then proceed towards the enemy base. There was only the small problem that whoever had shot down their ship was mostly likely searching its remains for survivors. There was also the chance that someone had seen their pods eject. Kast had thought of that on the way down and knew it would be smartest to separate himself from the crash-site as soon as possible.

He'd considered contacting the other team members, but hoped they knew as he did that calling would make them easier to find. If the enemy was scanning their frequencies, they'd just be making it easier to be found. The important thing was to get to the recon team and devise a strategy.

Kast was worried about the snow. The ejection pods were easy to spot in the sky, and the enemy might be moving against them, wanting to take out the occupants. Even if they found no one in the pods, they'd be stupid not to notice the set of footprints in the snow moving away from there. Which was why time was everything.

As soon as everyone was together, they could form their own attack squad or build an ambush. However it might all turn out, one thing was sure; a stealth intrusion was no longer possible. The enemy were onto them now, and unless they were sure they'd killed everyone, it would be impossible to get inside their perimeter. And as long as there were footprints to follow, they wouldn't suspect that everyone was dead.

It bothered Kast that he hadn't gotten a good perspective on their attackers yet. The intel he'd gotten back home had been lacking at best, all they had were pictures, they didn't have any idea of how well trained these terrorists actually were. In all likelihood they could be as good as him, or even better. Knowing what kind of enemy he was up against allowed him different strategies, not knowing made him almost impotent.

Kast had chosen to regard the opposition as being as good as himself, at least that way he would be careful. But it did ask some other rather annoying questions, professionals were predictable, it was the amateurs you had to be careful of; you couldn't predict what an amateur might do.

Feeling the tension biting away at his concentration, Kast shut away those thoughts for later scrutiny. The only thing that made him feel safe right about now, was the familiar and comfortable blaster rifle in his palms. The thermal jacket he'd picked up in a hurry onboard the stealth ship was sufficient in keeping him warm for now, but it ran on heater units and its supply would run out eventually. He had to get everyone together to assess how much gear had been saved and how long they would, or could, last outside in the snow. Getting inside the enemy base was part of the mission but it might take hours or days before they could find a weak entry point for them to use. Everything depended on rations and the heater units.

He also had to rely on his own inner compass, they had no equipment to locate each other, other than Tracker, whom Kast had yet to be able to make contact with. He was sure the RATM had gotten out of the ship, but it had probably already begun sweeping the area from up high, trying to locate all of its members.

Kast stopped abruptly, dropped down on his knees, his breath panting as he estimated his own position and heading by looking at the sun, almost invisible behind the brightness of the clouds. He was heading in the right direction. He looked up and around, saw smoke rising like a thick snake to the clear blue skies to his right; the crashed stealth ship.

Kast's eyes narrowed.

The Jedi.

He wondered if Jarod Marhar had gotten off. The man had stayed behind on the ship, making sure everyone else had safely gotten away, even the pilot.

The pilot.

Kast remembered the pilot mentioning that he'd tried to hail the recon team but they hadn't responded. The pilot had also mentioned sending word to Coruscant, confident that the Republic would send a rescue team. Kast knew a rescue team, if one was indeed sent, would take too long to get here, the stealth ship itself had traveled for almost a week to get here. And even if the message to Coruscant had gotten through, it would take them hours or at least a day before they received it. The space between Regana and Coruscant was too vast to even consider hoping for a rescue operation.

Kast wished he knew what exactly the pilot had told Coruscant about their situation. So far Kast hadn't gotten a good enough perspective to deem the mission a failure or not. If the pilot had given the impression that the mission was a failure, they would send a fleet of ships to handle the situation. There would be a battle. But if Kast could get his team together they could hopefully, with a lot of luck, have the situation all cleared out by then. Time was against them.

Against him.

Kast heard a faint noise in his helmet and a small screen lit up in his HUD. Someone was trying to hail him. Clicking it on with his tongue, he was wary of the danger of making a transmission. And he hoped whoever it was, who was calling him had good reason to jeopardize their safety. "Point," Kast said emotionlessly.

"Point, Alpha three here."

It was Red, Kast tried to push away the anger he'd felt when the man had attacked him in the ship, tried to be professional, petty differences could wait till after the mission was completed.

"We're bunked out southwest of the crash site, three in our group."

Kast flicked on his helmet binoculars with his tongue, the HUD magnified his vision, compensated for the thick winds, and he searched the terrain in front of him. He could spot small specs of movement up ahead, 2 miles out from his position, according to the HUD. Three people had survived. So far. "Who's there with you?"

"Four and lead."

Alpha Three and lead; that would be Stix and their team leader; Salvor. That made four in their group so far. They still had three others in their team to account for, not to mention the pilot and Jarod. "Any sign of the others?"

"Alpha five is with the pilot," Red's words said more than they led on.

Kast was almost afraid to ask. "Six and seven?"

Red took a awhile to reply. "They didn't make it. Alpha five has set up shop a mile from our position. Suggest you get your butt over here so we can regroup."

Kast was all for that. But someone wasn't accounted for. "What about Jarod?"

Red sounded confused. "Who?"

"The Jedi," Kast said, thinking of no other way to describe the man. That stunt he'd pulled with the lightsaber in the hold had made Kast anxious about the guy. But with five members of their team intact, the pilot, and the Jedi, Kast hoped he was still alive, they might yet be able to scramble a functioning team on its feet.

Red's voice sounded hesitant. "We haven't seen him."

"Any signs of hostiles?"

Red's voice was more relieved. "No, not so far. But I suggest we move out. It won't be long before they search the crash site. Any sign of the RATM?"

Kast shook his head, conscious that Red wouldn't see it. "No, my guess is Tracker is still drawing a visual readout of the terrain, like its programmed to do."

Red didn't sound too relieved. "Forget about the Jedi, we have to get moving."

Kast made a weak attempt to smile. "Copy that."

Static came through the reception. Kast guessed it could have been the thickness of the falling snow, but suspected it was the enemy that had picked up on their transmission and was scrambling it.

He could faintly hear Red's voice. "…enemy…we're…flashburst…"

That word sent ice down Kast's already cold spine. "No!"

At that he got up and ran as fast as he could, with the harsh wind beating at him, towards Red's position, but he had a feeling he was gonna be late.

---

"My dear Eulogy," her General almost whispered into her earpiece, "scanners say that the ship crashed south of here. Locate the ship and dispose of them."

Junn smiled like a predator eager for the hunt. "Yes, General." She swirled her twin blasters twice on her trigger-fingers before holstering them. Then she knelt down in the lift, ran her hand across the touchpad on the casing by her feet and the box's surface slid open. Inside laid a perfectly polished long range blaster rifle, custom made to her needs just like the guns. Junn lifted it from the casing and began assembling its scope, laser designator, and placed the small tripod in her belt for when she needed it.

She also picked up the two standard clips for the rifle and one clip of rapid fire bolts. She slammed a normal clip into the rifle and strapped the other two clips to the armor covering her chest and belly. Aside from these weapons she also carried a vibroblade in a sheath in her right boot and a second spring-out blade inside her right sleeve. Finished arming herself she strapped the rifle to her back and turned around to face the seven mercenaries riding down the lift with her.

"We go in strong! This is the real thing, not a simulation anymore! You go when I go, and you do what I say! Understood?"

The seven mercenaries nodded as one. She felt there was still much they had to learn and she wasn't too keen on going out on a task such as this with a group like them. She would rather have a group of her own men with her, but her General had ordered it, and she wouldn't question it.

That was who she was.

She'd been the one that had spotted the stealth ship, with her own eyes. The starfighter patrols in orbit had reported seeing something come out of hyperspace but they'd lost track of it. That had been her first clue. She didn't know who the unmarked ship belonged to, Republic or other, but she knew whoever chose to come here in a ship built for stealth was trouble.

The lift touched the snow and the doors ripped open, a wind of snow blowing through and whirling around them.

"GO!"

---

Skar got on his feet slowly, each move sending a thousand nails down his spine, each breath a fire through his entire body. He remained crouched, getting comfortable in that position first before trying to stand. He wiped the snow from his face and felt the sharp warm pain running down the left side of his face. He touched it and when he pulled away his hand there was a strip of red on his palm, along with small crystals of snow, it was still hermorraging. He would have to stitch the wound when he had time. His head pounded, he could barely feel his ears anymore, yet he was certain he could hear because of the constant roaring of wind that coursed all around him.

Skar closed his eyes, tried to focus on the pain in order to assess its nature. Through the Force he learned he'd suffered a mild concussion as well as losing a small, but significant, amount of blood.

A new pain slowly graduated into his mind and Skar looked down to see the gray fabric on his right thigh sliced open, as well as the skin beneath. The wound had frozen shut but it was another stitch he would have to make later. Steam rose from the wound. The cut had opened many arteries, and as soon as the snow melted away, which it would soon because of the heat in his blood, it would begin bleeding again.

Skar cracked his neck, loosening the muscles there and allowed the Force to shape his mind into a more functional state. His senses were rejuvenated rather quickly but his body still felt like it'd been tossed halfway across the Galaxy.

Skar sniffled. Not far from the truth.

He looked around himself to get a better view of where he was. Debris from the stealth ship laid cluttered all around him and there was a giant cloud of smoke rising from the hilltop behind him. He wondered how many of the soldiers had survived. With winds like this their pods would have been strewn all over the terrain, possibly several miles from each other.

He would have to gather as many as he could as fast as he could. When he reached out to them, he felt their confusion and loss of way. If their training had been as good as he hoped, they would know to start looking for each other, and gather as much as they could carry. And if they failed to find others, they would set up camps and concentrate on staying alive. Flashbursts would no doubt soon begin to fly to the sky. Flashbursts were like signal-flares, but Skar had his worries about firing a burst off since it would lead the enemy straight to them.

Skar pressed himself up, his body aching and his head still pounding. He padded himself down for equipment and found his lightsaber attached to his belt, as well as his blaster. His satchel seemed intact, which left Skar relieved since all of his equipment was in there.

His thermal jacket, one he'd taken onboard the ship shortly before the crash, had been torn to shreds by the engine fire and he threw it away, deeming it useless. A normal man would latch on to the jacket in whatever condition it was, since even a little warmth was better than nothing. But Skar relied on the Force to keep him warm.

Skar was more worried about the fact that he had no rations. Without food and water he would become weak very soon. The Force could replenish him but only for so long. Without food, he could make it two days, but only with constant Force attention. It wasn't good enough. He needed supplies and he needed it fast.

Sounding like an explosion at first, Skar heard a screeching sound and looked up to see a red trail of light softly flying through the wind before exploding in a giant firework.

A flashburst.

No...

Skar pushed away the pain and started running in the direction of the flashburst.

---

Junn paced herself as she ran across the snow. Behind her the seven mercenaries were having a hard time keeping up with her, but it was necessary for her to get there fast. Her seven mercenary companions fanned out on either side of her and continued to run forward towards the enemy while she threw herself on a slope and pulled her sniper-rifle from her back. They would act as on site assessment team while she would be the long range support group. She attached the tripod in record time to its barrel and leaned herself into the rifle.

Two miles away she could see a small tent set up, the kinds soldiers used at night or in harsh conditions. Junn counted three shapes moving around by the tent site, most of them walking in a very familiar kind of way. The way a warrior would walk when he was in unfamiliar and hostile territory. One of the figures was busy checking his weapons, while the other two searched the horizons for friends. She didn't recognize the armor or gear they were wearing, which troubled her somewhat. Republic troops always had markings on their armor to identify themselves as part of the Republic, but these didn't.

She clicked her comm on. "Group, attack pattern seven."

The confirmation came through with a double click from the advance team. Junn peered through her scope and zoomed in on one of the soldiers, a young man with red hair who was busy swirling his blaster on his trigger finger.

He would be the first to go.

---

Skar hadn't taken a breath in a long time when he came running up the slope right next to the tent. He could feel danger pressing down on the whole area like a giant cloud and he knew something was about to happen very soon. The flashburst had been a stupid idea and now it would cost the soldiers their lives. Skar came up over the slope, holding out his hand, screaming for them to move.

He managed to identify Red the second before the entire world turned black. He felt like he was moving slower than he actually was when he heard the muffled sound careening across the snow dunes, moving ever closer. Time blurred all around Skar when he saw the red beam coming up behind Red at an insane speed, before it slammed right into his back and exited through his chest, flying right over Skar's shoulder. Red fell to his knees, a giant hole where his chest had once been.

Skar rolled down the slope and landed right next to Red, catching him in his arms before he fell to the ground. Skar knew the boy was a goner, the boy's visage was still painted with the joy of seeing Skar again before his face clouded up into death.

Skar let Red's body drop to the ground and screamed at the others. "Down!"

Shocked by the attack the two soldiers threw themselves to the ground as the sky around them filled with intersecting lines of red fire, the snow lighting up in a reddish glow around them. Skar sensed seven spirits heading towards them, blasters firing. The two soldiers counter-attacked with their own rifles, bolts wheezing.

The enemy had the drop on them, Skar and his two allies were held down inside the small ditch in the snow, huddled up behind small hills of ice, while their attackers had a better attack-position from higher ground..

"What was that!" one of the soldiers, Salvor was his name, shouted over the wind.

Skar readied his blaster. "Long range rifle. A sniper."

"Did the flashburst lead them to us!" the other soldier asked, Skar recognized him as Stix.

Salvor answered for him. "Sharp thinking, genius!"

"I told Red it was a bad idea!" Stix snapped back. Stix turned to Skar, "The rest of the team have set up camp a mile away from here! We were waiting for our point man to show up! We wanted to get as many together so we could regroup!"

Skar's heart raced and he completely forgot about the pain shooting through his thigh and head. "How many are in the other camp?"

"Two! One of them is the pilot!" Salvor shouted.

"What about the last three?"

Stix shook his head. "Two of them bought it in the pods, one of them crashed into a mountain and the other landed in the middle of a frozen lake. We've had communication with Alpha point, right before you showed up. We've been keeping in touch through our comlinks, but this storm is making it hard to make normal transmissions, that's why we're pushing to get everyone together."

Salvor ventured a question. "How come none of us picked up the sniper on our scopes! Where is that blasted RATM! And who the hell invented reloading!"

Skar brought up his own blaster and fired three shots around the corner of his hideout, his bolts hid nothing but it was important they held their aggressors at bay.

Stix sprayed a thick fan of bolts over his head with his rifle then came back down and gave Skar a frenzied look. "We're pinned down here! We have to move!"

Skar agreed. The only reason they weren't dead yet was because they were in the ditch, the moment they stood the enemy would have something to shoot at. They were trapped.

"I have an idea," Skar said.

"Do tell," Stix shouted as he rose and laced the air with rapid blaster fire.

Skar clutched the lightsaber on his hip. "It all depends on how fast you can run," he lit the green blade, casting a green light across the white snow, "and how much you trust me."

Stix cast him an apprehensive glance, then looked over his shoulder at Salvor.

"Go for it!"

Skar rose from the ditch, putting his blade up in his defense stance, expecting the amount of bolts coming his way, but accepted his duty. With skillful ease he deflected the dozens of bolts away from the soldiers behind him. They seemed to grasp the situation, picked as much as they could carry and all of them started running as fast as they could away from where Skar was standing, his blade moving in a web of light in his hands.

Skar couldn't see his attackers, but he could see their muzzle flashes and sense their distance; and that was all he needed to protect his team. Although they might escape, it wouldn't be long before the enemy followed them, a final stand-down was inevitable. But Skar preferred another battleground, one he could manage.

Once he felt the two soldiers were safe, Skar somersaulted out of his position, landing away from the target zone and immediately fell into a sprint, using the Force to move him faster. Bolts zipped by his feet at first, but he managed to put enough distance between him and them that the bolts were useless, he fell out of their range and they had no choice but to pursue.

Pursue him into his battleground.

After a few minutes of running Skar reached the camp, which consisted of a small crevasse at the foot of a mountain. The remaining soldier had taken up a good position just up the mountain, from there he'd been able to see Skar and the others coming. The pilot had secluded himself inside the crevasse, along with all the saved gear. The pilot was shuttering with cold and he clung on to his coat and gloves, nervously panting.

Skar waved at the trooper on the hillside and signaled him to stay put and keep a look out. It was good to have someone up high, both for covering fire as well as scouting. The two other soldiers greeted and saluted him like he was a combat buddy, thankful for his help back at the ditch. Skar allowed the gratitude wash over him, only to freshen him, and tried to remain as conscious as he could about their current situation. It wouldn't be long before the enemy would find them here.

Stix took his first good look at Skar. "You're bleeding."

Skar waved him off, knelt down by the crevasse and saw the pilot. "How long are you gonna stay down there?"

The pilot stuttered, shivering with immense cold. "We were only able to save one…of the heat units. And the rations…are all gone."

Skar felt dread eating away at his heart. "You lost all of them? How is that possible?"

Standing behind Skar, Salvor answered. "Dasan, Alpha seven, was carrying all of the rations, the rest of us stowed up on weapons and gear."

Skar turned his attention back to the pilot. "Where is Dasan?"

The pilot just shook his head.

Skar sighed. "What about the other heat units?"

"Hiot, Alpha six, had them," Stix answered.

Skar was almost afraid to ask. "And where is he?"

The pilot pointed at the mountain. "Splattered, somewhere up there. We haven't see any debris fall down yet. He's not answering his comlink."

Skar could accept the man had died, but considering the spot he'd chosen for his grave it was impossible to retrieve the supplies. Skar reached out to the Force and listened for signs of life up the mountain but got nothing. He hadn't really expected anything anyway.

"He's dead. We're short on anything but enemies." Skar looked around and did a count in his head. The point man was missing, and three of the men were dead. Skar looked around once more and failed to recognize the face of the man he'd been talking to on the ship. Kast. "Alpha point, that's Kast, right?"

Stix nodded. "That's right."

Skar took a deep breath and turned his attention back to the pilot. "Alpha seven, Dasan. The one with the rations. Where is his body, we might be able to salvage some rations from him."

The pilot shivered with unexplainable fear. "I'm not going back there…its not safe."

Skar felt a level of hesitation in the pilot. There was something he wasn't letting up, more than conventional fear. "What?"

The pilot refused to meet eyes with Skar. "Someone had already gotten to him."

Salvor frowned. "He was the sharpest of the crew, of all of us. Anyone that got by him had to be good." The soldier sniffed, a quiver in his lip. "Really good."

Skar kept his attention on the pilot. "What happened to him?"

The pilot still wouldn't meet Skar's gaze. "A…nightmare."

Skar swallowed and reached out to the Force. He could feel the sniper far away as well as others approaching them, following Skar's and the soldiers' tracks in the snow. But something drove Skar to disregard the fact. "Take me to where you found the body."

The pilot shivered in his pit. "No! We have no time for that! We need to get to the station as quickly as possible. We can get food and heat there. That should be our main priority."

Salvor nodded. "I'm with flyboy. Without heat units and rations we won't last a day."

Skar rose and turned to Salvor, their leader. He seemed to know better than the others. "But a day is all we need. I read the ship's screens before it went down. We're six miles out from the repair yard. We can cross that distance easily, even in this snow."

Salvor shook his head. "But survival depends on finding food the moment we get there. Which won't be probable since the moment we get there we'll either have to stay really low or we'll have a gunfight on our hands."

Stix agreed. "And you're forgetting our little trophy-winning long range shooter out there."

The pilot joined in. "And the thing that took out Dasan. We'll have to take that into account as well."

Skar sighed. It would have been much easier if he'd gone alone. He could have made it to the station on his own and found food fast enough. But now he was towing four other people whose lives depended on him to work with them. And they didn't have the same ability as him to prolong eating or resisting the cold. They were slowing him down.

Stix looked to him. "What do we do?"

Eager for a plan, Skar looked out into the horizon, then back at the camp, the crevasse, the mountain, the -

Skar's eyes shifted back. The mountain.

Squinting his eyes, scanning up the side of the great wall that held them running any futher, he could see a small cave, seemingly created by something other than nature, between ground level and where the last soldier has set up his sniping position. Stix and Salvor followed his stare and then looked at each other.

"Mount Lori," Stix said.

Skar turned to them. "What?"

Salvor nodded with his chin at the mountain, the great slab of rock and snow that loomed over them. "We were given very little intel about the terrorists and the station before setting out, but we were given standard intel about Regana itself. One of the reports included an excavation of a mountain; Mount Lori. The only mountain they've named on this planet...mainly because its the only mountain they've studied. The cave you're looking at is manmade," Salvor shrugged, "its got to be Mount Lori."

"How far did the excavation go?"

Stix began to smile slightly, apparently starting to feel optimistic. "It was their plan to set up a shelter inside, they didn't really finish, there should be lost of pipes still lying around, but - "

"No time for this," Salvor interrupted, "but trust me when I say things just brightened a great deal. They were working on an underground tunnel spanning from inside the mountain all the way to the station."

Skar frowned. "What? No one told me - "

"Command figured the enemy would have closed off the tunnel, but no one knows. It's worth checking out, it's the best we got."

Skar chose to trust the men, given no real better alternative, feeling slightly betrayed that he hadn't heard about any underground tunnel. "What about Kast?" He's still out there."

Salvor nodded. "I don't like leaving him behind, but chances are he's already dead."

"He'll know to find us here?"

"He knows about this place, Red told him in our communication. If he's alive he'll be here eventually."

Skar turned away from the mountain and gazed out over the dunes of snow. "If I take care of the sniper and his back-up...we can escape inside the mountain, wait for Kast, and head towards the station at nightfall."

The two soldiers looked at each other. "You plan to take them on by yourself?"

"No, you'll help me," Skar looked at Salvor, a cold confidence in his eyes, "but I guarantee victory." Skar was lying, he couldn't predict something like that. He felt the lie was appropriate however, as he needed to rally the men together, needed to keep them focused. A little fighting and a victory might just do that. He didn't like the risks, but if he did they wouldn't be risks.

The team leader shrugged after a moment of thinking. "Better than dying without a fight. What do you want us to do?"

---

The enemy advance team came running over the snow and found the crevasse. The place looked deserted at first sight, there was a number of footprints walking around the place but it would take too long to figure out what the tracks meant. Instead they pushed on towards the crevasse, their weapons ready and keeping an eye out for a trap.

Just as they were about to reach the crevasse, a shadow leaped up before them with a green lightsaber in its hands. The soldiers trained all their attention on this enemy, and didn't notice the three soldiers coming up of holes dug into the snow behind the crevasse at the foot of the mountain.

Skar somersaulted onto the scene with his lightsaber ready. His lightsaber was humming through the falling snow, as he touched down and brought his lightsaber down from high right to low left, slicing through the first of the soldiers between his neck and right shoulder and all the way down by his left hip.

The soldier hadn't touched the ground before Skar was on to the next. His lightsaber sang and a second soldier lost his right arm, and his head a second later. The four remaining enemies started blasting away. Skar parried the shots and even sent some of them flying right back at their owners. Skar placed his trust in the Force as he let go of himself and the Force guided the lightsaber in front of him, blocking the deadly shots, while the three soldiers had amble time to shoot down the enemies.

Skar leaped out of the way as a explosive projectile came flying past his shoulder and exploded against the mountain side behind him. Skar didn't check if any of his men were injured in the explosion, he kept his focus on protecting them from the shots with his lightsaber. His lightsaber still danced around the place, ricocheting shots.

Skar embraced the nature of his being; a protector, and focused all his strength into that desire to protect those who counted on him. He reached out to the men behind him, added a little of the Force to their abilities. Their aims were more accurate and more precise because of his touch. The odds were definitely pushed to Skar's side, his men had him to protect them and he gave them a window of opportunity to take out the enemies without risking themselves.

The firefight slowly came to a close and Skar finished off with a wide swipe of the blade, cleaving three heads in one move. He remained standing there for a few seconds, letting his breathing slow before putting away his lightsaber away.

The grenade had wounded one of the soldiers, Stix, his leg burnt but he kept himself upright by his own strength, which Skar found admirable. Any normal man would have screamed in agony, but this soldier bit it down and used the pain as motivation. He smiled bravely while the others stared at his battered leg.

Skar padded Stix on his shoulder. "I can help you if you want me to."

"Its nothing, I've had worse."

Skar believed the man and turned to the others. The pilot and one of the other soldiers were busy scavenging the corpses lying in the snow for rations and ammo, as well as stripping the men of their jackets, boots and coats, which seemed to be a better solution than hanging on to the heater units that were almost dry. Food came up lacking but the men looked more positive now that they had been given a smaller victory.

Skar kneed down next to one of the enemy soldiers, a Sullustan dressed in hunting gear, armed with an outdated rifle and some grenades. Skar looked over at the other slain enemies, all of different races and carrying different weapons. These weren't soldiers.

"Mercenaries," Skar growled.

Salvor overheard him and looked up, then he looked around at the dead. Something passed over his face. "You think?"

"Looks like it," Skar said as he rose, "this was no army. They're hired help."

A soldier, Call, the one from the hillside, came up behind him, looking more chipper because of his new jacket, which he'd donned over his own. "So?"

"It means we haven't yet seen their full skill. I saw images of the enemy before we left Coruscant, they were soldiers, military, well-trained. These," Skar waved at the dead, "are not our main opposition. The ones I saw were better. Army guys. Professionals."

"Army?" Salvor asked.

"To hold down a place like Hope's Haven, you would need thousands of soldiers, which they have. I don't understand the mercenary inclusion," Skar said, rubbing his beard in confusion. Too much didn't add up. He also noticed that none of those slain had a sniper rifle. The sniper was still out there.

"I noticed it too," Salvor came up along side Skar, "no sniper rifle."

Skar turned his eyes out towards the dunes, but didn't feel anything amiss. Either the sniper was still out there or he'd turned back. "We're safe for now," he turned around and faced the mountain, eyeing the cave, unable not to compare it to an open mouth that awaited ready to swallow them. But at the moment, Skar could think of nothing better than getting out of the cold and into a setting where the enemy could only come from one direction.

"What do you say we get out of this cold?"

---

Junn rose up on one knee, staring at the mountain miles away, and that small black gap in its surface that had stolen her prey. She snarled at her own failure, annoyed that she hadn't been able to settle this situation as easily as she'd imagined. The wind pulled at her face and hair, narrowing her eyes to prevent tearing. She brushed off the snow that had layered upon her back and shoulders in her crouched position.

She flicked on the comlink on her shoulder, "General, this is Eulogy." She hated the way her voice trembled in this cold, it made her sound like she was crying. "I've lost the intruders inside a cave."

His reply was slow. "You lost them?"

She bowed her head, and just then she actually felt like crying. "I'm...sorry, General."

Again he didn't answer right away, but just hearing his breathing on the other end broke her heart. "I don't know what to say, Junn. I didn't expect this from you."

She fought back the urge to cry. "This is different, one of them is a Jedi. He took out my advance team. I managed to take out one of them, another one died coming down - "

He broke in. "I happen to know Sonnet has take care of one of them too."

Junn's heart finally broke, and only the snow melting on her face disguised the tears. "Sonnet is out here too?"

"Yes."

Her jaw dropped and she wanted to scream a million questions at once but she just couldn't push them past her lips. Why was he sent out here without her knowing? Not that she didn't like Sonnet at all, he was a fellow comrade, but she still felt decieved.

His voice came through again. "What should I tell Jovis? Did his men die...honorably?"

Junn didn't care, not the slightest bit. "What do you think?"

"I see," he sounded annoyed, "did you manage to get a count?"

Junn forced herself to answer. "Three soldiers, a Jedi and the pilot."

"Very well. You will stand down and return to base. Sonnet will take care of it from here."

Junn stood fully. "The mission is not over!"

Her General's voice changed, it hardened somewhat. "It is for you, Eulogy. No choice. Return to base."

She couldn't believe it, she'd never been ordered back to base before. "Have you lost faith in me?"

He chuckled warmly on the other end. "Not at all...but you have never stood up to a Jedi before. This isn't the right time to test yourself against one."

She smiled fiendishly. "You're forgetting...after this there'll never be a chance again."

He stayed silent for several heartbeats. "You really want this?"

She nodded to the snow. "I can do it, I know it."

"Very well," he said with an edge of skeptisicm, "Sonnet will stay on his mission. He will hook up with you if possible. Stay on your toes, Eulogy, if they haven't frozen off already."

She smiled, filled with warm pride and eager for combat, oblivious to the cold. "I will."

He chuckled warmly on the other end. "Oh, and I have one more mission for you. A small one...but an important one."

---

Coruscant had once again fallen into darkness, but only from above. The street outside the Staggering Tusken was alive with lights and sounds, a plethora of activity. Aliens hustled from place to place, speeders sweeping in and out between the buildings, the alleys packed with nefarious characters engaged in activity outside the law. Rishi had to focus his awareness to its limits to keep his concentration on his task.

Having been the cause of great disturbance in the Staggering Tusken two nights ago, he'd thought it was wise not to show his face there again. The day that had passed Rishi had spent sitting on the rooftop of the adjacent building, meditating on the Force, keeping his senses alert for one presence, his face hidden beneath his hood. Among the different species he'd witnessed pass through the street below in the passing day, Bothans had been the minority. He'd seen two, neither of them Rarsk Dokyan, the one who allegedly had hired Wedder Dhohji to deliver the datacard to Master Skywalker.

There was a subtle vibration in the Force, one he had been unable to track to its source. He supposed it related to his Master, but he could not identify its nature. Master Skar was too far away, his presence in the Force alive, but slightly fading more and more into nothingness.

Rishi knew Master Skar was well, or at least still alive, but he could not connect with his Master. Praying silently, he hoped he was okay.

Rishi palmed his lightsaber, his nervous fingers eager for something to touch, eager for some kind of activity. The weapon was his most trusted ally, the symbol of his status, his power. But two nights ago it had symbolized another side of him. The rash, arrogant, impatient side of him. To a Kjoil those sides were not as threatening as it was to a Jedi, a Kjoil was free to feel those emotions, free to be human like any other, unmarred by its rules.

Rishi did not look down upon the Jedi for that matter, infact he only felt pity for them. And it perplexed him that someone as strong in the Force as Master Skywalker had not pointed out the unfairness of the way the Force challenged them. Master Skywalker admitted that he envied the Kjoil's freedom, but he also believed to be Jedi was a more rewarding effort. A Kjoil had no lines of conduct and were free to use its power undiminished, whereas a Jedi would have to earn its trust.

The lightsaber in his hands had taken lives in the service of the Force, but even he could feel the Force warning him at times, telling him that although the choice he'd made was possible, it was not condoned entirely by the Force. If a Jedi crossed the line, he fell ever closer to the Dark Side. To kill was never right, and only in times when another person's life was at stake was a Jedi or Kjoil permitted to take a life. But even before then a Knight would have to assess if it was infact the last option. To kill someone, however evil in nature the person might be, was wrong if it could have been avoided by simply thinking of a better solution.

Preservation of life was key.

Rishi's lightsaber was made of silver, not metal, and its handle was wrapped in tight leather strings for a better grip, only the tip of the blade emitter and the bottom, where the belt ring was attached, revealed its silver finish. Rishi thought the dual blade feature Master Skar had built into his weapon was less than admirable. Any true Knight, in his mind, could take on any enemy with just the one blade, two blades was overkill and arrogant. And Rishi also knew that Master Skar had not trained to use the both blades, he was remarkable with one, one of the greatest swordsman Rishi had ever met, but he was not as attuned to fighting with two blades at once.

It was excellent if one wished to surprise their enemy, but nothing more. Rishi preferred the one blade, a perfect civilized weapon that demanded respect and the best of one self, not as crude as a blaster. Rishi scorned blasters, he felt that anyone who thought of themselves as a warrior would prefer the sheer elegance of the cutting blade.

Rishi had trained his skills with the lightsaber under the tutorage of Master Skar and Master Skywalker, as well as his favorite fencing instructor, Jedi Knight Corran Horn. Rishi had only had the privilege of sparring with him on very few occasions, each of them when Rishi had come to Horn, asking the man to train with him.

Corran had chosen a dual phase lightsaber, a weapon in which the blade could double in length if needed. Rishi also frowned upon that feature, but unlike with Master Skar, Rishi had not pointed it out to Horn out of respect. With Master Skar he had not been afraid to voice his dislike to his Master's choices, but there was more distance between Horn and Rishi, they hadn't known each other well enough to reprimand each other or doubt one another.

Corran Horn was a great Jedi, Rishi thought, and he knew Master Skywalker treasured the man as a profoundly strong asset to the Jedi Order.

But there was an animosity between the few Jedi who knew of the Kjoil, himself and Skar. Luke had kept the information to a minimum between his acolytes. He didn't want the Jedi to be distracted by the thought of someone who, and Luke had admitted this, was more powerful than the Jedi. There was a gap between them. Master Skar had chosen to join the order but on his own premises, and those premises were so elaborate that Master Skar had absolutely no connection to the Jedi Order.

He stayed for himself, only as a counselor and a friend to Master Skywalker. It was a joke to say that Master Skar was apart of the Jedi Order, he was not. He just wanted people to think he was, while he stayed neutral and unattached to the Jedi.

Rishi had, after Master Skar's separation from the Jedi, trained under Master Skywalker learning almost more through him than he had through Master Skar. Master Skar was more of a father to him than a teacher, a mentor. Skywalker had been the one who'd given him most of his teachings, but they always conflicted with what he knew from Master Skar.

It was that conflict that had driven him to separation too, although not as strongly as Master Skar. Rishi had taken up the task of giving the people in the underground a light of hope, and Master Skywalker had condoned that path.

Rishi wondered if Master Skywalker still felt that way, he'd had been through a lot of negotiations and problems because of that permission in the past. The Senate did not approve of a rogue Jedi, tackling the problems they were supposed to deal with.

Master Skar and Rishi had also both drawn strict lines regarding the traditions of the Jedi. Master Skar never approved of wearing a Jedi's cloak and tunic, claiming he felt that clothes did not make a Jedi and that Jedi were negotiators, not soldiers. He didn't like the concept of uniforms, feeling it placed too much of a burden on his shoulders to live up to an ideal he had no intention of following.

Rishi didn't mind the uniform, although they could chafe sometimes, and he didn't feel restricted or burdened by it. Jedi apprentices in the Old Republic had cut their hair short to symbolize their apprenticeship; another tradition both Master Skar and himself didn't think was necessary.

All of these things Rishi had learned through his Master was not what a Jedi or a Kjoil was. And Master Skar even admitted that in the past during his training under Master Bo-Hi he'd cut his hair short and he'd also worn the tunic and cloak. But he'd learned too that it was not important for a Jedi or a Kjoil to follow these traditions in order to become a Knight. Commitment came from the heart, not from the clothes or hairstyle.

Rishi and Master Skar had also chosen not to imprint their family tree on their lightsabers. Master Skar had once owned the lightsaber of his famous uncle which had the engravings, but as he had said, the tree only reminded him of the past, and a Kjoil should always look to the future, something Rishi thought Master Skar could forget at times. It wasn't necessary to have a family tree nearby, through his training and accomplishments he would never forget where he came from. Master Skar's new lightsaber carried no tree.

The only Kjoil tradition Rishi and Master Skar had shared in common were the tattoos. Master Skar had given Rishi free choice to decide whether or not to have the elaborate Kjoil design etched into his skin. His Master had said he didn't want to force Rishi into doing something he would later regret, and that the tattoos themselves were just like the hairstyle and the clothes, only these you couldn't take off if you grew uncomfortable with them.

Master Skar had also pointed out that sometimes the tattoos worked only as a physical reminder of his duty, and that they sometimes made more anguish than pride in what they meant. But Rishi had gone along with it. He agreed that clothes, hairstyles, and drawing a family tree on the lightsaber were all pointless. It was supposed to symbolize who you were, but they were all things that could be lost or changed. A tattoo was forever, equal to the commitment of the Kjoil or the Jedi.

Rishi directed his eyes towards the skyline, finding a source of empowerment there almost as splendid as the Force, and nearly as simple and beautiful in its creation. Rishi closed his eyes, taking his senses beyond the rooftops and scattering his awareness over the entire planet, strengthening his resolve and quickening his understanding of his place in the universe.

Rishi's comlink buzzed suddenly but Rishi did not flinch, he'd felt the signal beaming to him seconds before it had connected with his comlink. Rishi exhaled calmly, keeping his eyes closed and maintaining his serenity, while his hands brought the comlink to his lips. A cold breeze in the warm night brought to his attention that it was bad news.

"Yeah?"

It was 2L. "That's no proper way to greet someone, Master Rishi!"

Rishi smiled faintly, the droid's programming for etiquette sometimes showed itself in the most unexpected places. "Sorry, 2L. What's on your mind?"

"Sir, I was wondering if you'd happened to hear about the news on the Holonet."

Rishi kept his calm. "What news?"

"It was a small report on a tragic accident in the lower levels, not far from where you are. I called primarily to confirm that you were not involved."

Rishi hadn't noticed any emergency klaxons or medical teams rushing by, not even someone from the fire control. But Coruscant was a big place. The lower levels spanned across the entire globe, but different regions of the planet had different local news stations. The report 2L had seen had to have been nearby. "I'm fine, 2L. Was anyone hurt in the accident?"

"That was the secondary reason for my contacting you. They identified the body of the man you went to see earlier."

Rishi's eyes snapped open and that cold wind passed over him again, through him. "Crip?"

"I believe that was the one, Crip Tyrral. They reported he'd been flying a speeder under the influence of alcohol and crashed his speeder into a low flying cargo-hauler."

Rishi felt remorse for a moment, then suspicion, then disbelief. "It doesn't sound like something he would do."

2L was quick to catch on. "Do you think he was killed, sir?"

"Maybe."

"And the accident was a cover-up?"

2L's mind was as sharp as his own. "Yeah, but why?" Rishi didn't feel any solutions, but it all seemed too coincidental to be true. "Why was such a tragic, but random, accident on the Holonet?"

2L didn't answer right away. "I have no idea, sir. Would you like me to contact the local Holonet service?"

For a minute there Rishi smiled when he imagined 2L calling up the local news network, demanding to know why such a small accident was on the news. Rishi rose up on his knees. "No, don't bother. I'll deal with it."

"Have you had any luck in your search?"

"No, its been two days and Rarsk still hasn't shown up."

"Maybe he is alerted to your investigation somehow? Afraid to show himself?"

Again Rishi felt that more laid beneath the surface than what he could see or feel. Something waiting to be exposed. Approaching slowly, but steadily under a cloak of deception. "I don't know. I'll call you when I find out more."

"Do be careful, Master Rishi."

Rishi smiled. "I'm always careful."

2L chuckled, the sound of his electronic voice very eerie. "I beg to differ! What about the time when Master Skar - " 2L continued to ramble for a long time and Rishi gave up listening very fast, but he allowed 2L to make his point, letting him finish, not wanting to interrupt the droid and make him think his opinions weren't wanted. 2L's almost human identity was rare and to lower him into nothing more than a droid might take away what made him so special. Rishi had never heard Master Skar cut 2L short or tell him to shut up. He was respected as an individual.

Albeit a very chatty individual.

Distracting him, a lonely figure came walking on the street below him. It was a blue-skinned Twi'lek, just like the bounty hunter in the Staggering Tusken the other night, only this one was female, and very attractive Rishi thought. He had no objections to two different species of people being involved, as long as their physical form didn't make for too much trouble. Twi'leks were just like humans except for the headtails.

Rishi ignored 2L's ranting and firmed his eyes on the slender beauty as she stopped to talk to someone outside the Tusken. Rishi thanked the stars that Jedi, or Kjoil for that matter, were no longer inhibited by the rules of the old Jedi Order. Attachment had been forbidden back then, the new Jedi Order did not follow that tradition. Master Skywalker had had several attachments, so did Corran Horn, and even Master Skar had been involved with two woman at different points in his life.

Rishi was no different, and he was no stranger to women or love. And seeing a beauty such as this one was too good to pass up. She was very slender, almost athletic, wearing tight smooth pants that complimented her perfect build. She wore a top made out of reptile skin, with no sleeves and a cleavage showing off just enough to attract attention without being over the top provocative.

Rishi had been staring at her for several minutes while she stood there, when he realized 2L was still going through the list of times he'd not been careful. And as he was about to defend himself, he noticed the woman turned around, her face sparkling and very alluring , and she looked right up at him.

She didn't look at the sky.

She looked directly into his eyes.

Rishi smelled trouble. And he felt it too, when the muzzle of a blaster pressed against the back of his neck. Allowing his attention to move away from the woman he felt the presence of some ten attackers backing up the one holding the blaster to his neck.

An ambush.

And the woman who'd supplied the diversion waved to him, with a very seductive smile on her face as she walked on down the street.

Rishi cursed himself.

"Get up!" someone snarled behind him.

Rishi didn't turn to look at his attacker, he merely opened his palm and tossed the would-be killer flying back across the rooftop. Rishi had his lightsaber in his hand and alive before he'd even turned around fully to block the shots coming at him. He settled for blocking the most dangerous ones, and when he could he back-flipped across the ledge of the roof and plummeted down towards the street. Deflecting shots while still in the air, Rishi slowed his descent with the Force and touched down unscathed.

The people on the street were taken aback by his sudden appearance and the lightsaber in his hands. He didn't want to stick around long enough to take care of each attacker, so he decided the best course of action would be to run.

He could feel his attackers pursuing him across the rooftops. They weren't going to let him get away, which told him that they were more than casual muggers. The woman they'd set up to distract him proved that point too. They were after him and even his lightsaber hadn't been enough to change their mind.

Rishi ducked into an alley, confident that he knew the streets well and that he knew where he was going. Occasionally avoiding a shot, he ran in and out of several alleyways, doing his best to make their pursuit more difficult. Bolts wheezed past his feet more than once, inducing him to change direction drasticly whenever they were close enough to take a shot.

After a while he confessed to himself that he no longer had any idea of where he was, he'd been too caught up in simply escaping that he'd neglected to plan ahead. He turned down another alley and believed to recognize the open space up ahead. As he cleared the alley he came into an old large space that occasionally hosted markets and fairs, a place that should have been alive with activity didn't have a single soul in sight.

But Rishi only noticed this as he was halfway across the market place, when attackers dropped out of every corner, doorway, and sewer-access. Rishi skidded to a halt and took in the faces of some twenty or thirty attackers of different species, like a ansemble of homicidal non-humans. They had him surrounded, and even with his lightsaber Rishi knew he was dead meat. It scarred him, this sort of planning was beyond the likes of lowly henchmen or muggers.

He tightened his grip on the handle, hoping that they needed him alive. That way he might have a chance for success. But then again alive could mean so many things.

One of the attackers, a Rodian with twin blasters, launched a volley of shots upon Rishi. Rishi directed the shots back at the shooter and bouncing two of the shots back to the attackers left and right of the shooter. Three down.

A Nikto behind him came charging with a spear, Rishi tossed his lightsaber into the air, caught it as it came back down with the blade reversed and stabbed it backwards beneath his armpit, catching the Nikto in the belly. The spear thrust uselessly past him as the Nikto dropped to the ground.

Before the next attack could come, Rishi pushed himself into a defensive motion, swirling the lightsaber with his right hand, the handle spinning between fingers, he spun endless elaborate circles around himself. The speed in which the blade moved created a shield around him that no bolt or staff could break. He became a whirlwind of motion and light, the hum of the lightsaber rising and rising in pitch, creating a wall of sound that drowned out any ambient noise or alien threat.

What might have seemed trained to perfection all flowed from the Force, Rishi was merely a conduit for its power. Rishi ended his dance in his defense stance, charged and ready for the next attack.

"Leave this place!"

Rishi looked over his shoulder, surprised to see someone new joining the fray. Luckily it seemed to be someone on his side, a Jedi by the look of the heavy cloak and sand colored tunic. The young man's short hair was jet black and though he didn't appear to be any older than Rishi himself, something suggested he wasn't a mere apprentice.

The man lifted his hand to take in all of the attackers. "I said; leave!" the words sounding much clearer now, almost too clear for normal people's ears. Rishi could feel the ripple produced in the Force by the man's attempt at a mind-trick but its affects on the crowd were not successful.

The riffraff looked at each other in confusion, completely unaffected by the suggestion, which made the new Jedi look rather ridiculous. Rishi couldn't explain why the Jedi's attempt hadn't worked, but decided it could wait until later.

The attackers were ganging up on him, cornering him in the market place, taking no notice of the other Jedi.

Behind him, Rishi heard the Jedi's boots crunch pebbles as he came walking up to join him in fighting off this pocket of muggers. Two of the attackers walked off to intercept him before he could get to Rishi. Rishi kept his blue blade in front of him, wary of any new attacks, while keeping an eye out for the Jedi. If he couldn't produce a convincing mind-trick to settle these guys, Rishi had his doubts if the man's fighting skills would be of any use.

The two Rodians, clutching axes in their hands, were almost upon the Jedi now and he was still walking towards them, unmoved by their advance. The Rodian on the right made the first move, he lifted his axe up to the sky and came running forward, intending to hack the Jedi into pieces.

As the Rodian's axe began to fall from over his head, the Jedi side-stepped, produced a lightsaber out of nowhere and sliced through the Rodian's midsection with his blue blade as the axe buried itself into the street's surface. The other Rodian was already in its own momentum to attack, coming in with a wide sloppy across the chest move with the way too heavy axe, too late to stop its pull on him. The Jedi leaped over the axe and the Rodian, coming down behind the alien, with a single eloquent move he reverted his blade and buried the tip of his blade in the Rodian's spine, leaving it sprawled over its own axe.

Then the Jedi reasserted himself, with the blade casually at his side.

Must be one of Skywalker's wannabes. Rodians with axes are one thing, but some of these guys have blasters.

Two more broke off to deal with the new Jedi threat, one Trandoshan, twirling some kind of spear in his hands, and a Duros with blasters in both hands. The Duros' blasters mouthed off, but the Jedi sent the bolts right back at him, destroying one of the blasters and leaving the Duros with a burnt hand. The other blaster was tossed away and the alien ran for his life.

The Trandoshan came in with a long straight-forward lunge of the spear but the Jedi swirled to his left as the reptilian alien missed its target. For a second Rishi saw the Trandoshan's back was wide open for a slash from the Jedi's lightsaber, but the Jedi, favoring immobilization to needless killings, slammed the hilt of his lightsaber into the back of the Trandoshan's skull, dropping the alien onto the street, out cold.

The entire mob began to take notice of the second Jedi now and started blasting away at him, while Rishi continued to back down the nearest alley. The Jedi leapt out of the blastershots and landed next to Rishi, joining him in blocking the onslaught of blaster bolts.

Together they backed down the alley, their swords deflecting the onslaught shots raining down upon them, neither of them sparing a second to check on each other. Immediately their actions melded, a companionship arising between them, as they began to rely on each other for safety, their minds working as one. The further down the alley they got, the more shots flew at them, and Rishi knew they couldn't keep up the blocking for long. More importantly the alley seemed to end in a brick wall, leaving their choices very limited.

"We need an escape route!" the Jedi shouted over the roar of blaster-fire.

Rishi stared at the Jedi with repulsion. "No, we can take these guys!" He couldn't have done it alone, but with the Jedi helping him the odds had changed. He didn't like leaving unfinished business.

The Jedi's calm face contrasted Rishi's desperation. "Maybe you can, but your arrogance won't be the final chapter of my life. I came to help you."

Rishi scowled. "I don't need you!" he said, knowing it wasn't the full truth.

The Jedi laughed warmly. "Spoken like a true Kjoil. "

"You know me?"

The Jedi deflected a shot at his feet, then moved the blade back up to ward off two aimed at his chest in one stroke. "I was sent to take you back."

Rishi made a brilliant display on his own end; pushing himself into an unstoppable display of lightsaber acrobatics. With one hand on the hilt his blade flowed in endless circles, while his other hand unleashed varieties of Force powers upon the oncoming mob, the sheer tension flowing through him removed him from the realities of the fighting. "Sent by who?"

"Master Skywalker." The Jedi looked over his shoulder to see the wall behind them. There was nowhere left to go. "Look, can we focus on the immediate problem before diving into another? We have to get out of here."

Rishi cursed. The Jedi had saved his life and Rishi himself had to admit that things were beyond his control. Without the Jedi this might be his final stand. Obviously one of Skywalker's better incarnations. "Alright, alright. What do you suggest?"

The Jedi looked around for options. Then he turned to Rishi, his face and voice very direct. "These men don't need to die. We should focus on escaping."

Rishi nodded, but he hadn't obtained what he wanted. "I came down here for information about this new terrorist group that's been threatening the Republic; the Sons of Destiny, I think these guys might know something."

The Jedi returned to deflecting the shots, his movements very clear and precise. "What do you want to do? Take them all prisoners?" The Jedi snorted. "These men were sent to kill you. This isn't a casual mugging. This is their job."

Rishi agreed. "So one of them must know something."

"If we get one of them alive, we might just find out what." The Jedi searched the rooftops over his head. "Up there."

Rishi nodded. "You go first."

The Jedi walked up behind him and took one powerful jump straight up that only got him halfway up the wall, but more than enough for him to reach the ledge, and from there onto a ladder which took him to the roof. Rishi noticed how the Jedi seemed to have more experience with the lightsaber than with his mind-tricks and assisted jumping. Dodging blasts and ricocheting bolts off the walls with his lightsaber, Rishi began to feel the weariness in his wrists and hands from the deflecting. He was all alone now, the Jedi couldn't provide him with any help or protection from up there.

Delving into the Dark Side to provide him with a great solution to the problem, he created an energy surge inside himself and then he moved beyond himself out towards the group of attackers, channeling his connection to the Force through him, and releasing its energy in the shape of a horizontal whirlwind. It brushed up against the group, severing down their middle, launching them up against the walls, rendering most of them incapacitated or with injuries.

Concentrating the energy Rishi wrapped an invisible fist around one of the assailants, lifting him off the ground. Thinking no more of it, Rishi launched himself straight up, ignoring the ledge and the ladder, and landed safely on the roof.

A second later the prisoner came tumbling down onto the roof surface. The subject was a young Trandoshan, out cold for the moment, but otherwise healthy. Rishi put away his lightsaber and saw the disapproving scowl on the second Jedi's face.

"Come on, you said it yourself we should take one of them alive." Rishi didn't feel like explaining his actions to the Jedi, and he especially didn't like the idea of the Jedi thinking he even had a say in how things were done. This was his investigation.

"Not a child," the Jedi countered as he put away his lightsaber.

"The moment you pick up a gun and start aiming at people, you can't expect people to go easy on you."

"He's barely twenty."

"Which makes him only a few years younger than me; and look at what I have to deal with."

The Jedi frowned. "That's very simple-minded of you."

"Listen, I don't know what I'm dealing with here. I took this one because he would be easiest to scare into talking. I could get one of the others and we could spend hours torturing him, or we could use this one; which will it be?"

The Jedi said nothing more on the matter, but his dissaproving frown stayed in place. "Bring him. I've got a speeder not too far from here."