When Zekk woke up, he found himself exactly where he'd started.

He spent a while scowling at the ceiling of his cell before he tried to sit upright and stretch feeling back into his body. A stun blast at close range could wrack a being's nervous system badly, and when he felt the small of his back he immediately winced at the bruise left by the shot.

He got up and lurched for the door. Once he was sure he'd found his balance, Zekk began pounding the door and yelling, "All right, I'm awake! Call your boss and tell him I want to talk! Don't think I can't break out of here again!"

Nobody replied, of course.

He didn't try and break out right away. His senses were still addled and he might get hurt even more if he tried something bold. Moreover, there really wasn't a point. He was stuck on Wayward Soldier no matter how much he wanted to get off and the only person who could ultimately set him free was a Yuuzhan Vong masquerading as a man who claimed that he was, apparently, totally over the huge genocidal war when his people had launched a holy to war to exterminate all Jedi.

Nobody got over the past that easily.

Zekk certainly didn't.

So he waited, and tried to keep his mind off everything except his messed-up body, because that was easiest to fix. After a few more hours of exercises he felt like he was almost ready to break out of his cell again.

He stewed for a few more hours, until he was actually seriously considering another break-out, when the door slid open without warning and the hulking formed of Wayward Soldier's first officer filled the entire threshold.

"Good, you're awake," Chazdrul Harn said.

"I banged on the door a couple hours ago. Didn't your guards hear me?"

The Baragwin blinked and ignored the question. "Come with me. We have need of you."

"You have need of me?" Zekk planted his hands on his hips. "That's it?"

Harn blinked again. "Do you want an apology for shooting you?"

"It would be a good start."

"Well, you won't get one. The captain gave Harkum the order going in. If he was forced to give you your lightsaber, you would be stunned at the end of the mission. Otherwise you'd never give it back, and with that lightsaber you'd become a threat to the ship, its crew, and its mission."

Zekk stared at Harn, trying to make out any emotion on that very unhuman face. He couldn't get anything in the Force either, and he knew arguing with him would be equivalent to arguing with a slab of duracrete.

If anything, the duracrete might be a little more pliable.

"Okay," Zekk sighed, "What do you need me for? Tell me or I won't go."

"We need you to interrogate the prisoner."

In his anger over being shot Zekk had almost forgotten the mission itself. "What, is the Moff not complying with your techniques?"

"He's stubborn. It turns out Imperials train their officials to resist torture."

"Even Yuuzhan Vong torture? Did your boss try to get him to embrace the pain?"

Harn didn't miss a beat. "For better or worse, the captain hasn't brought any of those aboard, so we've had to make do with more traditional means."

"And he thinks I can get him to talk with my Jedi powers?"

"We've heard Jedi have the ability to influence other beings' minds. Is this false?"

Zekk wanted to spit out a retort, or even deny it, but a realization stopped him. Praelyx had allowed him a handful of news reports to sate his curiosity about the outside galaxy, but those had probably been carefully curated for the select purpose of leading Zekk on and getting him to take part in the raid on Selonia.

If he could get inside that Moff's mind, he might find out things Praelyx didn't want him to know. Then again, the Yuuzhan Vong was no fool. Maybe he had already figured on that, and maybe this was part of a game even more twisted than what Zekk had supposed, but an opportunity was presenting itself and he was loathe to simply reject it.

Still, he didn't want to make it too easy, so he told the Baragwin, "Your captain promised me he'd sit me down and explain what this mission is really about. I want him to do that first. In exchange, I'll find out what the Moff's hiding."

Harn blinked and didn't respond. It seemed, for once, the Baragwin didn't have a reply in stock.

"I might be your prisoner but I'm not your slave. I want Praelyx to fulfill his half of the bargain. Without that, I'm not doing anything for you."

Harn gave one of those deep Baragwin snorts. "Very well. I'll return shortly."

The door slid shut, leaving Zekk alone again. This time he reached out with the Force and tried to feel for beings out in the hallway. He sensed one; probably not Harn. He'd gotten past two guards before and one would be even easier, though what he'd do once he got free was still an open question. Ranger-class gunships, unfortunately, were not big enough to have docking bays and there were probably no attached ships he could steal.

So he resigned himself to waiting again. This time, thankfully, did not take as long. The door slid open and Evan Praelyx stepped into the room with his very human face on.

"I'm surprised you came." Zekk crossed his arms over his chest.

"I was busy before. That's why I sent Harn."

"Busy interrogating that Moff?"

"That's right."

"When are you going to tell me what this is all about? I mean really tell me? You made a promise, remember?"

"That I did. All right. What do you want to know, Jedi?"

"How about why we broke into a star destroyer in the middle of a peace conference to steal an Imperial Moff from his bed chambers?"

"We work for hire. That's what our employer paid us to do. They also wanted to avoid causalities that might cause the restart of hostilities. We have you to thank for that."

"Did hostilities restart? Or is the Selonia conference still going on?"

"Oh, it's still on. Frankly, the new Imperial Head of State probably doesn't miss Moff Westermal anyway."

Zekk frowned. "Who is the new Head of State? Who could replace Pellaeon?"

"Apparently he was fostered on the Moffs by the Jedi, even though his connection with the Empire was tenuous at best." Praelyx snorted. "Your kind never stop meddling, do they?"

Now Zekk was really confused. "Who did the Jedi appoint?"

"A fighter pilot named Jagged Fel."

Zekk's jaw dropped. He snapped it back up when Praelyx's masquered face grinned amusement.

"I take it you're familiar with him," Praelyx said.

There was no way in all nine Corellian hells that Zekk was going to explain to this Vong how he'd spent a good chunk of the past year trapped in an arduous love triangle with his teenage girlfriend and a stuffy fighter pilot exiled from the Chiss Ascendancy who was, apparently, inexplicably, now an emperor too.

So instead he said, "Yeah."

"Fel didn't hire us to kidnap his own Moff, if that's what you're asking. We were hired by a certain party from the Hapes Consortium. They're apparently interested in a certain research project Moff Westermal was involved in."

"Research project?" Zekk's anger spiked. "Was he involved in the nanoweapon that killed Tenel Ka's daughter?"

"I believe he was, yes." Praelyx said slyly. "My employer believes he's also involved in another such research project. Would you like to meet with him now?"

Zekk's hands balled into fists. "Yes," he said, "I think I would."

"I thought so. This way."

Praelyx and the guard at his door, a snarling Trandoshan, led Zekk through the gunship's hallways and down a lift tube to what Zekk realized must have been near the ship's outer hull. He realized that an airlock chamber was, psychologically speaking, a good place to perform a high-pressure interrogation, so he was unsurprised when they stepped through the initial portal into the vestibule to see Moff Westermal cuffed to a chair by his ankles and wrists with Harn and Harkum standing behind him. They'd turned him to face the outer airlock so he could see black space looming just beyond the transparisteel porthole.

One look at Westermal told Zekk the Moff had put up impressive resistance. His face was bruised and battered and his clothing torn. The red-stained bandages on his fingertips indicated that his captors had already brought out the nasty methods. Wester-mal's head currently hung low, eyes closed, and he was breathing in and out at a slow, steady rhythm suggesting sleep.

Zekk sidled next to Praelyx and asked in a low voice. "You ever been through that Embrace of Pain?"

The masquered eyes narrowed. "No. I have not."

"Lucky you," Zekk said, and stepped forward. He crouched in front of the captive Imperial and lightly slapped his chin. The man's eyes popped open.

"You don't know who I am, do you?" Zekk asked.

Westermal's upper lip curled in a so-very-Imperial sneer. "More pirate trash, I assume."

"Actually, no. I'm a Jedi."

Westermal's sneer didn't slip. "How very nice for you."

Zekk leaned closer. "I'm a very old friend of the Hapan Queen, Tenel Ka. You know about her, don't you?"

That got a reaction. His eyes opened wider, even the right one, which was stuck halfway closed by the swelling of a split eyebrow. Westermal reined in his expression quickly, though Zekk could feel a new surge of alarm off him in the Force.

"Do you want retribution? I thought Jedi didn't take revenge."

"I wasn't always a good Jedi. I know the Remnant didn't officially support it, but I'm sure some of you Moffs had a hand in financing Brakiss' project. Do you remember the Second Imperium?"

"Vaguely."

"I trained at the Shadow Academy before I ever trained as a Jedi. Brakiss called me his Darkest Knight."

Westermal kept his battered face cold but Zekk could feel his fright growing. "The Shadow Academy was a very long time ago."

"I can still remember all of it though," Zekk said darkly. The anger he slipped in his voice was cold and controlled and very, very real. "Brakiss taught me how to channel my darker feelings and use them for things the Jedi would call impure. Dangerous."

Westermal bore his teeth. "Tried to make a Jacen Solo out of you, eh?"

The remark stung, stung deep. It also made Zekk angrier. He reached out with the Force and gave Westermal a forward tug. The Moff's shoulder strained against his hand-cuffs and he let out a whoof of breath as his face fell within inches of Zekk's.

And the shock and fear were there, on his face and in the Force. And to Zekk it felt very good.

"What's your next scheme?" Zekk said. "Who's your target?"

"I'll never tell you, Jedi."

Westermal's anger said enough. "Is that who you're after? Are you going to target Jedi next?"

It was certainly possible. There were elements of beings' genetic makeup that indicated Force-sensitivity, just as it indicated heredity. It was much harder to track and quantify, especially given the variety of species that could use the Force, but a nanovirus could be tailored to Fett or Djo genes it could theoretically be made to target Jedi too.

The thought left Zekk staggered. Not even Palpatine had attempted such a thorough slaughter. Zekk reached out and pressed a hand against the man's temple.

"Tell me where it is," Zekk said immediately. "Where are you working on the nanovirus?"

Westermal's face twisted as he tried to resist the tendrils of the Force reaching into his mind. The Moff was stubborn and resilient, but Zekk knew that if he pressed hard enough he could break through any mental barriers and find out what was really going on. All he needed was raw power.

He only had to think of little Allana, murdered by this man and his schemes, and anger gave him all the power he needed.

Zekk sent a spike of raw pain into Westermal's nervous system. The man cried out and tried to retreat into his mind, ignoring the sensations of the body, the way he'd been trained to. Zekk followed him inside his deepest shell and kept up the attack.

"Jedi…." He moaned, "You damned Jedi…. Kill all you… You vermin..."

Zekk barely heard him. He chased Westermal inside his own mind, unrelenting, punishing him with waves of painful sensation that sparked all through the man's nervous system. His limbs rattled in their binds and spittle flew from his lips, making wet splotches on Zekk's face, but he didn't relent.

"Where is it?" Zekk said aloud, said in the Force, said deep in Westermal's mind. "Where is the new nanovirus? Where?"

"It's not!" Westermal howled. "It's not! It's not!"

"Not what?" Zekk growled, relenting just enough for the Moff to put frantic thoughts into order.

"It's not," he panted, "It's not… not a nanovirus… It's… bio..."

"A bioweapon?"

"Vong weapon. Solo… Jacen Solo…. He told us..."

Zekk's first thought was that there was no way Caedus could have been so suicidally stupid as to develop a bioweapon against Force-users when he was one himself. But then, he might have thought he could just deploy it at Shedu Maad, wipe out the Jedi there, and call it enough.

"Where is the weapon?" Zekk pressed.

"Vong weapon," Westermal repeated. "Not ours. Couldn't even… develop… Needed help."

"Help? Help from who?"

Westermal attempted to recoil within himself, but Zekk followed again and sent punishing pain through his body. Finally the Moff relented and said, "Hapan. Hapan scientist. On… Gallinore. Don't know name… Sent team to extract."

"Your team and the scientist, where are they now?"

Westermal's incisors stabbed down on his lower lip as he willed himself not to talk. Yet it didn't matter; Zekk could sense the answer repeated over and over in the Moff's mind like an incantation. It was a single word, a single name, that sent shudders of dread through Zekk's mind.

He took his hand off Westermal's face. The Moff let out one gasp then slid into unconsciousness.

As his body hung slack in its binds, Zekk stood up on aching knees.

"Well, Jedi?" Praelyx, standing behind him, cocked an eyebrow. "What do you have for us?"

"The bioweapon was being developed on Myrkr," Zekk said.

He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but all Praelyx gave him was a simple nod. "Very good."

Zekk looked down at the Moff. "What will you do to him now? Space him?"

"Ah, no, that might start a war." Praelyx tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Our employer actually didn't specify what to do with him. Might try to ransom him. I doubt Jagged Fel will want him back, but some of his fellow Moffs might pay a hefty fee. Or not. There's only one way to be sure."

Zekk looked down at the unconscious Imperial and found he was disappointed; he actually did want them to space Westermal.

That was when the enormity of what he'd done hit him. His rage over Allana's death had driven him to a dark place he hadn't been to since the Shadow Academy. All the old evil knowledge Brakiss had put into his dead, the knowledge he'd always thought he'd expunged, had actually been lying dormant all that time, waiting to be put to use.

He was disgusted with himself, all the more because it had been so horrifically easy to channel his own darkest impulses. It had seemed to simple and so right while he was doing it.

He wondered if it had felt that way for Jacen.

Zekk looked at Praelyx and asked, "What happens now? Do we go to Myrkr?"

"I'll have to consult with our employer. But yes, that does seem likely. For all we know Westermal's team and their Hapan scientist are already there."

"Okay. I've been there once before."

"Myrkr?"

"The worldship over Myrkr. The shaper research facility where they made the voxyn. It has to be there."

"If you know your way around the place already, perhaps you'd like to come along."

Zekk felt a spike of anger again. He wanted to tell this Vong that he'd never do anything he wanted, but that was stupid. He'd been doing it already. He realized then what he should have realized before if not for his anger: He had no idea who Praelyx's employers were, and without the Force to help him he never could. For all he knew the Vong had been hired by some schem-ing Hapan noble who wanted to use the bioweapon to finish the job and kill Tenel Ka.

In fact, it seemed the most likely option.

If he went to Myrkr, to that awful old worldship, he might find a way to stop Praelyx's schemes and Westermal's both, and somehow destroy the bio-weapon completely. In fact, it was the only way to make sure the weapon was never used.

He stared at Praelyx's human, yet alien, eyes. The Vong captain was no fool. He probably knew everything that was running through Zekk's head, and when they got to Myrkr the captain would do everything he could to keep Zekk from destroying the weapon.

But even if they were working at cross-purposes, they needed each other, and they both knew it.

"Okay," Zekk said, staring right in the Yuuzhan Vong's eyes. "Let's go to Myrkr."