They walked through the ghost ship noiselessly, the Exile leaning on Atton as she limped. The Harbinger was flooded in darkness: only the emergency lights lit the group's path. The lights pulsed a menacing red, throwing obscure shadows over the sparse halls. The presence of death was strong, almost overpowering. Mærin could taste it on the end of her tongue and it crept about her body like a second skin. She started as Kreia's musing echoed through the empty dormitory halls.
"Nothing is alive here, yet there are no blaster marks on the walls, no evidence of vibroblade or grenade."
"So what are you saying?" Mærin felt more than she heard Atton's voice as it reverberated through his body as he supported her.
"What I am saying is that the soldiers did not die from battle. They were killed with the Force." Kreia's tone cut like a blade. "I have a feeling that whoever did the killing is not far away."
"Look," Mærin said, attempting to relieve the tension, "We already have the navigation charts. We can't have much further to go. If we move fast enough…" she left the hope unspoken, not wanting to break the fragile idea by putting it into words. The three came upon an open door, and Mærin's eyes flashed in recognition.
"What is it?" Atton asked, sensing the change in her stance. Mærin shuffled forward and tried to piece together her memories.
"This… This was my room. Before Peragus…" She drifted off and forced Atton to follow her into the abandoned space.
"Do not linger overlong in this place – as we speak our time runs out." Kreia said, but Mærin paid her no heed. The old Jedi was forced to raise her voice to a steely grate. "The Harbinger is dead, and we will share its fate if we do not move now." The younger woman slung a small worn bag onto her back and finally acknowledged Kreia.
"I'm done here."
-
The medical bay, cold and empty, was no different than the rest of the ship. The power was gone, and the remaining lights cast an eerie blue glow over the entire room, bathing it in shadows. X-rays lay strewn across the floor in a haphazard manner, depicting multiple fractures on the skull and torso of a patient. Computer screens flashed ultramarine blue and glass fragments ground beneath Mærin's boots.
Bacta tanks in the bay were shattered and useless; destroyed, it seemed, from the inside. Broken wires hissed and sparked nearby. Kreia ran her hand down the length of a counter tentatively, as if the simple touch would bring light on to what had transpired there.
"I have a bad feeling about this." Atton said, putting into words what all three felt.
"There's nothing here anyway – we should leave." Mærin spoke in a barely audible whisper.
The medical bay door close behind them and menacing figures filled the hall, circling the companions. Atton bared his teeth and fired a volley of blaster shots into the aggressors as Kreia buried her long sword into the chest of another. Blood splattered onto Mærin's face and she picked the men off with precise shots. The last fell to the ground at Kreia's feet. She looked down at the body with disdain.
"Sith assassins. One part of our mystery has been solved." She turned and gazed down the long hall. Mærin's gaze followed; her eyes struggled to make out shapes in the flickering light. Something moved, sauntered towards the three of them. The darkness that had been chasing Mærin since her dream materialized from the shadows. Fear clutched at her heart and she broke out in a cold sweat. Kreia strode forward with bold, swift steps.
"This is my battle – I am not defenseless." She waved Atton and the Exile away with a broad stoke of her hand. "I will find you soon. Run while you can." Mærin dug her nails into Atton's side as panic took her. He swore under his breath.
"Kreia—"
"Run."
Atton tore Mærin away from the old Jedi, forcing the woman to look ahead and rush in the opposite direction. Her mind reeled. The nightmare was real. And Kreia...
Kreia had marched straight into death itself.