Crosshair switched his rifle from one hand to the other as he wandered across the room. The team was in the central room of the ninth level down, now, and it was nearly identical to the other central rooms they'd entered. Trayus was almost as bad as Kamino, in that regard. Crosshair glanced at the dark, dusty walls and smirked a little at the thought of how the Kaminoans would react to such a place.

The others, with the exception of Tech, were gathered near a sealed door, arguing over whether or not they should attempt to open it. Quinlan thought it probably wasn't worth their time, since he felt no artifacts nearby - Vythia thought it was just as well to check. When they decided to open it, Vythia turned to Wrecker and asked how best to open it. Hunter stood between them, pretending to pay attention; in reality, though, the sergeant was distracted by the storm going on not far above them - Crosshair knew because of the frequent, quick looks Hunter kept sending at the ceiling. Quinlan Vos, meanwhile, stood next to Wrecker and stared at the sealed door as though he were trying to see straight through it. Maybe he was.

Crosshair held his rifle across one arm and wandered over to join Tech, who was seated cross-legged on the floor near the glowing pillar and frowning at his datapad.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Vythia rested her chin in one hand and directed a question to the Jedi, who only shrugged. Crosshair glanced briefly at each of the main doors, then returned his attention to his youngest team member. "Tech."

"Hm?"

"Anything nearby?"

"Not at the moment."

Crosshair slung the rifle over his pack and went back to watching Vythia, who was leaning forward to observe as Wrecker placed detonator tape on the door. "What time is it?"

Tech never looked away from his screen. "Your chronometer is a mere glance away."

"So is yours," he retorted, just to continue the conversation.

"True. But I am currently occupied. You are not."

Crosshair sighed and checked the time. Nineteen-forty-five precisely.

On the opposite side of the room, Wrecker took out a breach charge, set it, and stepped back.

The muted explosion was followed by a loud thud as the door swung open and slammed against the adjacent wall. Another brief discussion followed. Quinlan looked inside the room and gestured as though to say it was safe.

Crosshair fidgeted with his knife and glanced around. "What about that storm?" he asked.

Vythia went into the room, with Wrecker behind her. Quinlan slumped as though bored. Hunter folded his arms momentarily, then took off his helmet and ran a hand through his hair before glancing over to where the rest of his team was.

Since Tech hadn't bothered to answer yet and Crosshair was feeling idle, he glanced down and nudged him with one boot.

Tech shifted away absently, but said, "The storm is much too strong to safely take off in. Unless we stay on the Phoenix, which is too small to really accommodate all of us, we will have to remain here for the night. Of course, that also has an advantage."

Crosshair couldn't think of what advantage Tech could possibly be talking about, so he took off his helmet and reached for a toothpick. "You mean the fact that we'll be sleeping on stone floors in our armor? Yeah, we haven't done that in a couple weeks at least."

"Do not be ridiculous." Tech finally glanced up at him, lifting an eyebrow. "How could that possibly be an advantage?"

Crosshair chewed his toothpick and pretended to think the question over seriously. "Well . . ."

"Never mind." Tech got to his feet and dusted himself off before flicking open his vambrace screen. "I merely meant that if we stay here tonight, then tomorrow morning we will not have to climb down ten or more levels in order to resume our search."

"Hmm." Crosshair smirked and shot him a pointed look. "Why, Techie? Your short little legs getting tired from all those stairs?"

Without looking away from his work, Tech kicked him hard in the shin - to absolutely no effect on Crosshair. The loud clack of armor against armor caught Hunter's and Quinlan's attention, though; Hunter raised a questioning eyebrow, and Quinlan, surprisingly, gave them a faint grin.

The Jedi had been utterly silent for a full hour after leaving Darth Nihilus' crypt, but then he'd seemed to recover a little. At least, he wasn't staring into space anymore, and he responded when spoken to without looking startled. Crosshair pulled the now-flattened toothpick out of his mouth and considered it. If this kind of thing kept up or got worse, Quinlan might become more of a liability than a help . . . especially if it got to the point where he couldn't sense danger at all - or, worse, was unable to respond when something happened.

Hunter's ability to sense electromagnetic frequencies had been something the squad had grown so used to that, by the time they'd left Kamino, they'd depended almost completely on that ability in order to get through their drills - especially those where Tech was not allowed to use his skills with electronics. But in situations where Hunter's ability was all but useless, such as the middle of a crowded city, the sergeant was still more than capable of acting, and reacting, as situations arose.

Most of the time. With a final glance at his toothpick, Crosshair flicked it at the glowing pillar. It vanished into the white flames, then bounced off and landed on the floor with a tiny click. Crosshair leaned closer, then put a hand through the flame until he could feel the flat stone of the pillar. The stone was cold. This place doesn't make any sense.

As he stepped away, Wrecker and Vythia came out of the room, their arms filled with various gold and jeweled items. Vythia was laughing at something Wrecker had just said, and he was grinning outright.

As Hunter and Quinlan joined the Nautolan woman, Crosshair narrowed his eyes at Wrecker. "Fraternizing with the enemy," he muttered, well aware that Wrecker couldn't possibly have heard him and - more to the point - wouldn't have cared if he had.

"We do not know for certain that she is an enemy," Tech argued reactively. Then he paused and looked across the room, quirking his mouth to one side. "Though on second thought . . . Hm. Well. Either way, I do not think that engaging in conversation with her qualifies as 'fraternizing', technically speaking."

Crosshair rolled his eyes and started towards the others.

Tech kept pace with him. "Certainly, it would not be fraternizing on her part, as she has no idea that we are on opposite sides. As far as we are concerned -"

"Tech?" Crosshair said, raising his voice a bit to speak over him.

"Yes?"

"Just forget it."

Tech stopped speaking, his line of thought broken, but then looked up, eyes glinting mischievously. "I will try, if you insist, though I usually attempt not to forget things."

With an exaggerated sigh, Crosshair picked up his pace, and Tech followed on his heels with a quiet snicker.

The others looked up as they neared them, and Vythia held up a long golden chain studded with jewels. "See - another valuable find."

Crosshair eyed it judgmentally.

"If one is only interested in money, at any rate." Vythia tossed the necklace carelessly into a small bag, which she then closed. Hoisting it between her fingers with an effort, she glanced at her satchel, then at Wrecker. "Would you mind adding this one to your pack?"

"Yeah, no problem!" Wrecker tossed it easily into his pack before sealing it. "That's everything, right?"

"It is." Vythia tapped a finger against the satchel that hung at her right side, then glanced at the small chronometer she wore. "Hm. It is not quite nineteen hundred yet, but we should stop soon for the night . . . Shall we stay here, move downstairs, or go back to the top?"

Hunter hesitated and glanced at the ceiling. "Tech, what do you think?"

"The storm is too heavy," Tech said. "Even if we were to make it to the Phoenix, which is by no means a guarantee, we would be unable to safely take off. The wind speed is currently averaging two hundred kilometers per hour."

"Awesome, not," sighed Quinlan. He hesitated, biting his lip. "And you're sure about that, Tech?"

"I could hardly be mistaken." Tech held up his datapad. "The Marauder's sensors have mapped out the storm. It will last for at least six more hours, possibly eight, at its current rate of movement. Even if we assume that the sensors are only eighty percent accurate -"

" - it's still too dangerous," Hunter finished. "And there's no point in trying to make our way all the way down to the Marauder."

Vythia nodded. "I expected as much. We could explore one more level and then stop for the night."

"Works for us," Hunter replied with a glance at Crosshair. "Lead the way, Vythia."

She headed for the stairs and the others fell in behind her. Hunter hung back a little, until he and Quinlan were at the back of the line.

"Quinlan," Hunter muttered. "You said earlier that it wasn't anything particular, but you just didn't want to stay here at night."

"Yeah. I know."

The sergeant let out a huff. "I meant, is that still the case, or is there something . . . immediate . . . that's going to be a problem?"

"Not that I know of. I'd let you know if there was. I just don't - like the idea, I guess." His voice trailed off uncertainly. "It's this . . . uh."

"Feeling?"

Crosshair started down the stairs, keeping his eyes on Tech, who was once again transferring his attention between his datapad and his vambrace-screen instead of watching where he was going.

Behind him, Quinlan cleared his throat. "Feeling. Yeah. You know what, Hunter, I'm getting really tired of saying that."

"I'll bet." Hunter sounded the slightest bit amused. "You've been saying it a lot lately."

"Jerk," replied Quinlan peaceably.

"Uhhh - guys?" Wrecker said. He stood at the bottom of the stairway, hands planted on his hips as he looked around. "This is different."

"Indeed," Vythia said, from farther away. "I believe we are in a prison level."

Tech halted a few steps up, peering over Wrecker's shoulder. "What makes you say that?"

Neither of them had moved yet, so Crosshair put a hand on the stair railing and vaulted over it into the center. As usual, the pillar burst into heatless flame, but that and the stone walls and floor were the only things about this central room that were the same as the others. Several dozen stone figures lined the perimeter, sitting or kneeling or half-lying or doubled over near the walls, their wrists chained to metal rings that were embedded into the stone every few meters.

"Oh," said Tech blankly.

". . . Kriff." Quinlan landed next to Crosshair and stared around, his expression darkening from surprise to horror as he took in each stone figure.

Crosshair tilted his head at the Jedi's reaction, then studied the prisoners more carefully. Judging by their expressions, they had all been suffering at the time of their death, though it wasn't clear as to how, or why. The black chains were cuffed around their wrists, and all of them had their arms raised slightly, but there were no injuries on any of them, not as far as he could see. Maybe it wasn't physical suffering, but fear from being imprisoned here, knowing the fate that awaited them. . . whatever that was.

"Why are they all here?" Wrecker asked quietly.

Quinlan let out his breath and approached the closest prisoner, a Togrutan woman on her knees. She was wrenching forward, arms stretched out behind her and to either side, and looked as though at any moment she would break free of her chains - they were pulled taut, and had been for centuries.

The Jedi brushed a hand against her upturned face and shut his eyes.

Tech wandered past Crosshair, then turned in a circle as though taking in the entire room. "This room is strange," he said. "It is not an ordinary prison - it seems a place to temporarily keep a large number of captives, but not -"

"You're right," said Quinlan, taking a step back from the statue. He stared down at the Togrutan's face and grimaced. "I guess the Scourge was unleashed at the right moment . . . this woman was on her way to be sacrificed."

"What for?" Vythia asked, joining the rest of the group.

"She didn't know." The Jedi went to the next person in line, a human man who had been watching the Togrutan with an exhausted gaze when he died, and touched his shoulder. ". . . I don't - oh. This man was a prisoner of war. I think - a lot of these people were. He seems to have known them."

Vythia cast a curious look at a Nautolan male, who was half-sitting, slumped against the wall in defeat a few prisoners down the line. "Sacrificed," she repeated. "I wonder what the Sith hoped to gain from that."

"Possibly the remaining alchemists hoped to obtain some unusual power," Tech said softly. "There seem to have been a large number of alchemists in Trayus."

"There were many, yes." Vythia turned away and started for the wide doorway at the eastern side of the room. "Darth Nihilus was one of the most famous, of course."

Of course, Crosshair thought sarcastically. "Seems like all of 'em were famous."

"Oh, no . . ." Vythia turned halfway around to smirk at him before facing forward again. "For example, the names of those who made the stormbeasts are not remembered. They simply were not important enough."

"Huh," said Hunter. "You'd think they would be. Those stormbeasts lasted when nothing else did."

"That we know of," Vythia said, just when Crosshair was expecting Tech to say the same thing.

"Right. That we know of." Hunter glanced from one side to the other, then stepped out into the hall beside the Nautolan woman. "Which way?"

"No idea," said Quinlan after a moment.

"Then it hardly matters," said Vythia.

Hunter shrugged and turned left, and the others followed.

"Darth Nihilus, on the other hand . . ." Vythia said. "He made creatures that reflected his own abilities."

"Like what?" Wrecker asked, shoving open a narrow door to peer into another of the small rooms. "Turning into nothin'?"

"No; he drained people of life, and his creations did also. Nihilus called them leviathans, and even more powerful Sith feared them. They never obeyed any but one master. When Nihilus died, some of them left, some of them vanished - some came under the control of other Sith. There are records in my possession, written by some of those who controlled them. The leviathans were . . . they were incredible."

"Hope none of 'em are around," muttered Quinlan, pausing to light another lantern.

"As do I," Vythia said fervently. "They were immense, four-eyed, snakelike creatures that could drain the life from others at will. No one seems to know what creature they were twisted from, or what their limits were; Nihilus made them all with different abilities as his own grew."

"Why were these Sith so obsessed with twisting things?" Hunter asked absently, casting a look back towards the central room.

"I expect they wanted to test the limits of their own power." Vythia stopped as they neared a half-open door. "Is there anything present in this next room?"

"Not that my sensors can detect," Tech answered. He peeked into the room. "Ah - nothing but a statue. Wait. Hunter . . ."

Hunter stepped forward quickly. "What is it?"

"Do not go inside!" Tech warned, putting out a hand.

All six of them stood, just inside the wide doorway, as Hunter turned on his flashlight. Facing them from across the room was a black, four-armed statue with flat golden eyes, clinging tightly to a featureless prisoner that hung heavily in its grip.

Oh, perfect. Another one. Crosshair watched it uneasily, noting again how the eyes seemed to always be focused on him no matter where he stood.

"Hey," said Wrecker, confused. "That's the same kind we saw before!"

"Yeah. . ." Hunter backed away. "Let's just not search that room."

"It must be guarding something," Vythia mused, though she also moved back.

"I doubt it," Crosshair told her. "Unless it's in a hidden room or compartment. That place was empty."

"No, you are right. . ." She helped Wrecker close the door. "But I cannot imagine why else it would be there."

"Maybe to hold prisoners," Crosshair suggested. "You said this was a prison level."

"That was clearly not a person," Tech corrected him as they set off again. "Perhaps the tall statues were meant to guard against attempted escape. I expect that if someone was sent into that room knowing that, should they move, the thrown statue would kill them - well, I cannot imagine many of them would have tried to leave."

They reached another divide in the hallway, and Hunter stopped short, lifting a hand. Everyone else froze where they were, holding their breaths as they listened, dividing their attention among the three hallways.

The sergeant looked from one side to the other, then took a tentative step forward. Crosshair couldn't hear anything, but he drew his pistol when Hunter reached for his knife.

Then a low, hollow clink sounded, and Hunter jerked around to face it. Wrecker stood back-to-back with him, while Tech and Quinlan - who had his knife drawn in a reverse-grip - shifted to the left.

Another clank, followed by a metallic rattling that grew louder over several seconds.

"Chains," said Crosshair, moving off to the right.

Vythia joined him silently. Her whip hissed into life, then sputtered against the ground as it coiled near her feet like a golden serpent.

Clank . . . clank . . . clank. The sounds were drawing closer and closer to Crosshair and Vythia. For some reason, the others were all staring down the hallways they'd already been facing. It was like they thought the sounds were approaching them.

Hunter sent a quick look at Crosshair, as though questioning why he was just standing there.

"It's comin' our way," muttered Wrecker, readying his blaster.

"No." Quinlan had moved to stand at the entrance to the left-hand corridor by now. "It's in this corridor."

Vythia shifted her weight, right arm drawn back slightly as she readied herself to strike. "It sounds so close . . ."

The rattling drew closer still, and Crosshair could make out another sound. Footsteps. Slow, deliberate footsteps. Something brushed his arm, and he glanced quickly to the side. Vythia was standing directly next to him, eyes wide as she stared unblinkingly into the darkness.

The source of the noise was just out of sight, now - just beyond the edge of shadow that the green lanterns hadn't penetrated yet. Two more steps, and whatever it was would reveal itself -

Crosshair leveled his pistol.

The sounds reached the edge of the light and faded away. No one spoke, or moved, or even seemed to breathe. Fifteen seconds passed, and then the sounds began again - behind him, moving away. Crosshair spun, firing as he finished his turn, and Tech let out a yelp of surprise as the laser flashed a meter in front of his face. Nothing happened - the hallway was lit for the briefest instant by the laser, but no one was there.

The footsteps slowly faded, until only the clinking of chains was left. Then that faded, too, and Hunter lowered his knife with a visible shudder.

"What was that?" Wrecker whispered.

Vythia licked her lips. "I do not know. I think - I think it was an illusion."

"But from everywhere?" Tech asked, his voice a little higher than usual. "We all appeared to hear it from a different direction - and it did not . . . we did not hear it when whatever made the sound would have been in the light."

"Illusions do not like the light," Vythia replied softly. She had not deactivated her whip, or moved from where she stood. "Crosshair - do you see anything?"

He stared into the shadows for a moment, then turned back to the corridor he'd heard the noises from. "No. Why?"

"I think . . ."

They all heard the next sound - a door, opening and then closing, from far down the hall they'd already gone through. Everyone froze again, and this time, they all turned towards the corridor that Crosshair and Vythia faced.

Nothing else followed, and there was no other sound for a full minute, but still nobody moved. Crosshair had to deliberately force his shooting arm to relax slightly, so as not to throw off his aim when he did fire.

Quinlan and Hunter both shifted at the same moment, as though about to turn. Then, three sounds clashed together - a heavy footfall, a splintering crash, and a scraping of claws on armor.

Shards scraped and skittered against Crosshair's armor as he spun, hardly noticing the piercing pain above his left elbow. Hunter was sent reeling sideways into the wall, so hard that he rebounded and slammed to his knees. Crosshair fired twice at their attacker before even registering what it was. When he did, ice seemed to shoot through his stomach.

A black, golden-eyed statue stood directly in the center of the corridor they'd come out of, blocking their way back to the central chamber with its four arms stretched to either side. Wrecker's lasers shattered into its robes as it gazed expressionlessly at nothing. Quinlan and Tech were kneeling off to one side, the Jedi with his left arm outstretched in front of Tech, who had clapped a hand to the side of his neck. Both of them stared up at the statue without moving.

Crosshair fired two more shots, one at each of the thing's golden eyes. Both shots struck dead center. Neither did any damage. Taking a step back, he holstered his pistol and reached for his knife. "Hunter, get up!" he snapped.

Hunter dragged himself dizzily to his feet, staggered, and put a hand to his head.

"Crosshair?" said Vythia quietly. "I think . . . I do not know if we can kill this."

"We've gotta try," Wrecker answered in a low voice. "What do we do?"

"It might let us go," she answered. "It might not follow. . . Quinlan, Tech, move away."

Quinlan started to get up, and the statue swiveled to face him. He stopped, reaching over one shoulder for his pack. "Its head," he said. "Crosshair, its head has something inside."

"Try to stab through its eyes," Vythia ordered, swinging her whip. "I'll distract it. Wrecker, help Crosshair."

"You got it," Wrecker growled.

They darted to either side. Vythia whirled the whip around her head and struck out. The golden lash furled twice around the statue's neck and tightened as she jerked, taking up the slack.

The statue did not move as Wrecker approached from the left and Vythia flicked her wrist, letting the whip's lash curl again around the neck. Crosshair took two quick steps, jumped into Wrecker's latched hands, and sprang up, stabbing his knife straight at the thing's left eye.

Clawed fingers latched around his middle from both sides, squeezing harder and harder and leaving marks in his armor. Wrecker was yanking at the hands to no avail as Crosshair jerked the knife free, then pierced the eye again. The expression on the statue didn't change. One right hand struck Wrecker aside, a left hand snapped its fingers shut just shy of Vythia's arm as she whirled aside, and the second set of hands closed even tighter around Crosshair's waist. Four sharp fingertips punched through the right side of his cuirass and Crosshair twisted hard, wrenching his dagger free.

Another hand closed around his entire forearm, immobilizing his hand. He struggled against it, without success, then reached across with his free hand and grabbed at the knife.

Thunk. Hunter's vibroblade appeared in the statue's right eye, buried all the way up to the hilt. The statue swerved to the right and faced Hunter.

Just as Crosshair's fingers closed around his knife-hilt, the clawed hand holding his forearm jerked down sharply, and he dropped it.

"Don't move!" Vythia cried.

Crosshair froze, although the fingers kept tightening. They clenched more slowly now, as if they were having trouble moving, but they were still crushing his armor inward.

Then Vythia stepped up beside him. Wrecker latched both arms around the statue's last free arm - its lower right - and clung on with all his strength as the hand snapped shut just shy of Vythia's arm.

Vythia sprang from Wrecker's bent knee to the statue's lower arm. Moving deliberately, she climbed to kneel on its upper arm, jerked Hunter's vibroblade free of the right eye, and drove it into the second eye through the hole Crosshair had made.

Just as she pulled it out, the two right arms sprang back to their normal positions. Wrecker stumbled back and Vythia fell, landing hard on the floor and dropping the vibroblade just in time to avoid impaling herself. Then the two left arms moved, finally releasing Crosshair, who crumpled with a sharp intake of breath as the damaged armor stabbed into his side.

He was just getting to his hands and knees when he caught sight of Quinlan, who was just lowering his hand from where it had been pointed at the statue.

The Jedi's gaze met his through his visor, and then they both looked up. The statue was back to how it had been before, except that the eyes were all but destroyed and something was - different. Crosshair didn't know what it was, only that he knew the statue would never move again.

He shivered in reaction, finally registering that a statue had followed them from the room it had been inside. Sithspit, he thought vehemently. And we decided to stay here tonight.

"Crosshair," said Vythia, putting a hand on his shoulder. Her voice was shaking ever so slightly. "I did not expect - are you all right?"

I almost got killed by a statue. . . He huffed, finding the thought amusing for some reason, and pushed himself stiffly into a kneeling position. "Yeah. You?"

"Physically, I am fine." She sat back on her heels with a shudder, the red crystal swinging from her headpiece at the motion. Her face took on a wry smile. "It was merely - unexpected."

"I sure hope it was unexpected." He took a deep breath and grimaced, glancing down at the holes in his armor. Great, another patch job to do. He shot a quick look at the Jedi, wondering how fast the clawed hands would have cut through his armor if Quinlan hadn't intervened.

Wrecker picked him up by the arms and set him on his feet. "Whoa, that thing got you good."

Crosshair elbowed him sharply and stepped away, looking around for his knife. The floor was littered with black stone shards, some nearly as long as his knife, which he found a couple meters away. "It only got the armor."

"Yeah," said Hunter unsteadily from where he was wavering against the wall beside Tech. "Because armor bleeds. Come on, Cross."

Quinlan snorted, and Vythia laughed.

Crosshair stared down at his side, which did feel a little damp, now that he thought about it. ". . . Whatever," he said, pretending he'd already known. "We need to get out of this level before any more living statues find us."

"I think . . ." Quinlan hesitated. "I think we're all set, but yeah."

"You noticed it," Vythia said, handing Hunter his vibroblade. "Right before it reached us."

"It felt almost like your crystal." Quinlan gestured vaguely at the statue's head. "I thought you were behind me for a second, but -"

Tech took Hunter's helmet and stood on his toes to get a closer look at the side of his head. "I suspect a crystal is what powers it," he said, his voice back to its usual calm, bland tone. "Though I do not understand how their - programming - works."

"Neither do I," Vythia mused. She kicked aside some of the shards and checked the hall that led back to the central room. "Alchemical constructs, as a rule, have only two or three reactions that they perform . . . automatically, so to speak. I never heard of any moving under their own volition."

"Well, this one did," said Hunter, trying to pull away from Tech's poking and prodding. "Let's go back upstairs. At least we know the upper levels are clear. We'll make sure to have a couple of levels between this one and wherever we stop."

"Good idea," said Wrecker. "That was weird . . ."

"One moment," Tech said, removing a small canister of bacta spray from his pack. "I want to -"

"Tech," said Hunter, pushing himself away from the wall.

"- take care of this first."

"Tech, we can deal with it later."

"Certainly." Tech sprayed the bacta over the injury, handed Hunter his helmet, and picked up his own with a professional nod. "Whenever you are ready, Hunter."

Hunter jostled him lightly with an elbow on his way by and did not answer. They headed back towards the central room, passing the doorway that had hidden the statue from view. No one suggested that they open it this time - no one even spoke again until they'd ascended two flights of stairs and were nearing the top of the last.

"Do we stay in the center?" Quinlan asked, in a casual tone that probably didn't fool anyone. "Or do we look around and find a room to lock ourselves in for the night?"

Vythia brushed a hand along the banister and raised a dark eyebrow. "Earlier today I would have said the center would be perfectly sufficient. Now I am not so sure."

"The center's got a lot of light, though," Wrecker said, glancing down at them as he stepped off the final stair behind Hunter. "Easier to see here than anywhere else, even without our lanterns."

"He's got a good point." Hunter leaned one hand against the wall. "Not only that, we've got quick access to a way out, if need be."

Quinlan, who was pressing his left arm absently against his side, gave a hesitant nod. "Yeah. I didn't think of that."

Vythia looked carefully around the center, almost as though checking to see if anything odd had appeared in their absence. Crosshair watched her for a moment, then studied the room himself, in case she missed anything.

They congregated around the pillar and took off their packs. Despite the good lighting and the perfectly adequate temperature, Wrecker took out two heat lamps and activated them, setting them a few meters to either side of the pillar. The others opened their packs without talking and spread out blankets nearby. Crosshair checked both main doors, standing in each for a good half minute to listen and watch for anything out of the ordinary. Meanwhile, Tech checked the Marauder's sensors as well as his datapad's, then pulled out his and Crosshair's med kits and opened them.

"Well, lads," said Hunter, glancing from their makeshift campsite to his squad mates. "Let's settle in for the night. I'll handle first watch."

"One moment," said Tech, pushing his goggles up the bridge of his nose. "I have not ascertained whether or not you have further injuries."

Hunter set aside his helmet, gave him a patient look, and got to his feet. "All set, Tech."

Tech nodded after a moment's consideration. "Wrecker?"

"I'm good." Wrecker tossed Hunter a water bottle. "That thing didn't even get through my armor!"

"Hmm. Crosshair?"

Crosshair, who was busy removing his upper armor, shot him a glance, silently amused at how overbearing Tech was being.

Tech frowned and narrowed his gaze, a silent promise to deal with him later, and said, "Quinlan?"

"Just a couple of scratches." Quinlan, who was prodding at something in his sleeve, glanced up. "Pass me the bacta spray, would you, Tech?"

Hunter, who was just starting for the door, looked over the Jedi's shoulder on his way past. "How about forceps first?"

Quinlan glanced back at him, muttered something uncomplimentary, pulled a thin shard of stone out of his arm with his fingers, and tossed it aside.

Vythia gave an amused smile and sat cross-legged on her blanket, setting her satchel aside. Brushing her skirt free of dust, she said, "He is not wrong. Would you like help, Quinlan?"

"Not particularly, thanks."

Wrecker sat down heavily next to the Jedi, who was attempting to roll up his sleeve with one hand. "Well, too bad."

"Uh -"

Wrecker grinned at him and caught his wrist. "Look, we all want some rest, and no one's gonna get it with you guys bickering. Now, gimme the med kit, okay?"

Quinlan winced, but relented - probably only because Wrecker wasn't giving him another choice - and Crosshair smirked . . . at least, until he looked down at the damage to his armor. The outside wasn't a problem, but the inside . . .

"Will you be able to fix this, Tech?"

"Before tomorrow, with the tools I have on hand?"

"Yeah."

"I can try." Tech looked dubious.

"Never mind." Crosshair opened his pack and pulled out an emergency blanket. It was thin but sturdy - folded up, it would work fine as protection between the sharpened punctures and his blacks.

Without warning, his side stung fiercely. Crosshair jolted, then growled at Tech, who was squeezing more disinfectant onto an alcohol wipe. "Give me that."

"One moment." Tech snatched it out of his reach, waited until he stopped trying to take it, and went back to work.

Crosshair decided to ignore him for now. He went back to securing the emergency blanket inside his cuirass. When he was satisfied with his work, he set it aside, then reached casually for the disinfectant, which Tech had left near his knee.

After putting some in one hand, he waited until Tech sat back on his heels, finished with the bacta. Then, moving calmly, he leaned forward, pushed Tech's head to one side, and smeared it over the long cut that ran across the left side of his neck.

Tech jumped, clapped a hand to the injury, and glared. "That was uncalled for!"

Crosshair glanced down at the bacta patches, visible beneath the tears in his shirt, and decided it was safe to lie down. "No, it wasn't."

"Well - no, I suppose it wasn't." Tech moved to collect his med kit and replace it in his pack. "I had forgotten. But it was . . ."

"Unqualified," Quinlan suggested, from where he was watching Wrecker put bacta patches on his arm.

"Not quite." Tech lay on his stomach and turned on his datapad.

"Unnecessary."

"Hmm -"

"Unwanted?"

"Definitely."

Silence fell while Wrecker finished treating the cuts and gashes that were scattered across Quinlan's left arm; the silence lasted while everyone settled down, except for Hunter, who stayed leaning against the doorway that stood at the head of the stairs leading down.

Crosshair turned to face the other way, intending to keep his gaze on the opposite doorway. He probably couldn't sleep anyway. Everyone was nervous; just now, even he had been talking more than usual, and he was the last to get nervous. . . Usually.

A slow half-hour passed, but everyone was still awake, still tense. Tech was fidgeting with his datapad. Hunter wouldn't stop sheathing and partially unsheathing his knife. Crosshair caught himself drumming his fingers against his pistol, which was lying on the ground, pointed at the pillar. Even Vythia, who had appeared to be lying peacefully on her back, was fiddling with the strap of her satchel.

Finally, Quinlan propped himself up on one elbow. "Hey, Tech. We haven't changed the rating since entering Trayus."

Tech huffed. "That may take a while to calculate."

"Nothing better to do," Wrecker said. "We can just be general about it. Uh, we could take off five for the statue."

"And five for the fact that we're stuck here," added Hunter.

"Oh, definitely," Vythia stared up at the ceiling. "And five for Nihilus."

"Six," argued Quinlan. "And three for the other statues."

Hunter half-turned. "Do we count the storm again, or not?"

"I suppose we do." Tech sat up. "It is a different storm."

"Then let's take off two for that."

"That brings it down to negative fifty-one," mumbled Crosshair. He turned his attention back to the opposite main door, having to try now to keep his eyes open.

"Don't forget those - sounds," added Vythia.

There was a short pause.

"Negative fifty-six," suggested Hunter.

Tech nodded and entered it into his datapad, then set to work typing something else. He was probably taking notes on various things that had happened that day. . .

The silence of the central chamber, which had been too heavy before, was now filled with the sound of Tech's typing. Under normal circumstances, Crosshair usually found the noise annoying, but now he felt himself starting to relax, and then to doze.

He blinked heavily and shook his head, determined to watch the empty doorway opposite him.

Tap-tap-tap click tap-tap-tap-tap . . . click, tap-tap-tap . . .