Considering the situation, the journey to Scotland was, if unorthodox, swift and uneventful. Derry had not, in his haste to escape, disabled the swoopbikes stored at Haven. Holmes turned a bit pale when he learned how we were to travel, but made no remark. For my part, I was a bit excited at the prospect of flying once more. There were men all over the world trying to solve the problem of flight, and were close to success, but it would be many, many years before the people of Earth might come close to what the swoopbikes could accomplish. I counted myself lucky to have a taste of what coming centuries might bring.

Although the journey was accomplished in a matter of hours, the need for secrecy made it quite uncomfortable. To avoid detection we had to fly very high up, where the air was thin and bitterly cold. Although we all bundled up against it, the chill still worked its way through layers and the wind of our passage tugged at my helmet, making my neck and shoulders ache with the effort of holding my head steady.

I rode with MacEiver this time, while Holmes rode behind Grey Wolf. Though he had said nothing, the Jedi had apparently sensed Holmes' discomfort at the impending flight and had chosen as his flight partner one who was cautious and steady in the air, not given to wild antics as some of the others were. Accompanying us were Mrs. Hudson, Shannan, Maeve, and Far Lao, as well as Ben and Qui-Gon. The others remained behind in London, there to disperse and seek for Moriarty, his men, and anything else related to Derry's operations.

We left late at night, timing it so that we would arrive at our destination around dawn. I was disappointed at making the flight in darkness, unable to see the land below. Unable to see anything but darkness and the occasional star (it was cloudy) I dozed off. The events of the past week had been wearying beyond belief, and rest had been in precious short supply.

I was awakened by MacEiver's voice, speaking softly to me by means of the helmets' comlink. "Doctor...look." I blinked awake, wishing I could rub the sand from my eyes...then promptly forgot all about my discomfort.

The sun rose over Scotland, tinting mountains and hills with rose and lavender, chasing away the dark and clouds of the night. Trees and homesteads rolled by below, tiny and insignificant from our perspective. Streams and lakes glittered like polished steel in the growing light.

"ETA five minutes," said Mrs. Hudson's voice. "We're setting down a few miles from the landing site...keep your eyes open, people. I doubt Derry is alone down there."

I craned my neck, trying to see better. We were over mountains now, the sparse settlements vanishing behind. The machines began to descend, the mountains growing large around us.

"There's Mailen's ship," MacEiver said, lifting a hand from one of the bars to point. "See it?"

I followed the direction of his finger and felt my jaw drop. The gleaming silver shape clinging to the mountainside made the swoopbike I now rode look perfectly ordinary. Finding words to describe it is difficult, since I had never seen its like. It reminded me of nothing so much than a great bird of prey, like Sinbad's Roc, or perhaps a dragon of ancient legend. It was easy to believe that such a machine could indeed fly through the vast oceans of space.

We set down on a relatively flat spot–though the ground was still rough and uneven. I took off my helmet, tugging at the collar of the unfamiliar clothing the Jedi had given me. They seemed to be of leather–though I could not be sure–and were far more form fitting than I was accustomed. I felt painfully aware of my stocky form.

Holmes, tall and slender, looked well in them, as sleek and deadly as a big cat. The illusion was marred a bit by the fact that, as he dismounted from the swoopbike, his steps were rather unsteady and he was very pale. He quickly regained his natural grace, however, and made his way to my side. "Here we are, Watson," he said softly. "I cannot but feel that we walk into a trap."

"I know," I agreed. "But anticipating a trap makes it that much less effective."

"True enough." A line appeared between his eyebrows as he surveyed the area. "And yet..." He shook his head. "Here." He pressed something into my hand. I looked down and saw that it was a blaster, tucked into a holster and belt. A glance showed me that Holmes already had one strapped at his hip. "Be ready for anything...but whatever you do, Watson, do not engage Derry."

"I'm hardly suicidal, Holmes," I replied dryly. "I've seen the Jedi fight, too. And this," I held up the blaster, "is impossible not to notice when fired."

"That's what I'm counting on," Holmes said myteriously.

A small stir among the Jedi caught our attention. "I do not wish to harm Derry, if at all possible," MacEiver was saying.

"You can be damned sure he's going to be trying to harm us," Maeve retorted. "MacEiver, I'm sorry, but this plan of yours is ridiculous. Derry isn't going to just give it up because we ask him nicely."

The red-haired Jedi frowned. "And what do you suggest, Maeve? That we waltz in there, lightsabers blazing, and kill him? That isn't the Jedi way. We must try to turn him back."

I could see agreement on the faces of a few of the others, but also indecision and sympathy for Maeve. Perhaps Holmes and I had missed something when we had been making our own plans. Qui-Gon, standing on the fringe of the group with his apprentice, looked grim.

Maeve rounded on McEiver, her expression stormy. "You can't save Derry, Taryn. Not every situation can be solved peacefully."

"You've been warned about this attitude before, M-"

"Yes, I know. It's why I've been exiled to this backwater planet on the edge of nowhere. But that doesn't make it any less true. You can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved. You all felt it. Derry doesn't regret what he's done, only that you didn't stay blind to it longer. Sure, he did not kill myself or Far Lao when he had the chance, but that wasn't out of any concern for us. Derry didn't slip or slide, he turned and willingly embraced the Dark Side." Her green eyes blazed as she struggled to calm herself.

"He killed Ilein," she added, in a voice that chilled me.

"I know you and he were ... close-" Taryn started to say.

"We were. And I want to see his killer brought to justice!"

"Jedi do not seek revenge," Mrs. Hudson reproved.

"Nor do I. I seek to stop a murderer before he kills again, or before he does something worse."

"I respect your feelings, Maeve," Mrs. Hudson said. "But I feel that walking in there with the intent to kill him is not the way to solve this. We must do all we can to bring him back."

"But–"

"Final words, Maeve," the other woman said sternly. "If you cannot follow them, then I suggest you return to London."

Maeve subsided, but her eyes flashed. She was clearly unhappy with the decision...and truly, I could not but agree with her. Derry had committed murder for his own profit. Perhaps he was now mad, but it was a madness he had deliberately chosen somewhere along the way...and men of that sort do not take well to those who try to "redeem" them.

"Be ready," Holmes warned again, very softly.