Disclaimer: I have received no monetary compensation for the time I've spent on this installment, as the ideas present within mine are not original, but merely interpretations of someone else's genius.
Chapter Thirty-Two
MISSION POV
The Sith officer escorting Mission to solitary confinement hadn't been the brightest bulb to begin with, but now she'd annoyed him into downright stupidity. Mission yanked her arm away from his grip. So far her plan was working out well. She'd been captured on her own, and had managed to goad the officers into punishing her by putting her into her own cell, away from the others. She'd been stripped of her equipment, but she wasn't too worried. She had street smarts. So she had no resources at the moment. She's simply…acquire some more.
They'd stopped in front of a cell. It was clean, and generously large. The Sith officer gestured to it. "C'mon girlie," he said wearily. "Into the cell. Let's go. I haven't got all day to waste on you. I need to get back to my post."
He made to shove her into the cell. Mission threw up her arms and stepped back. "Quit crowding me," she complained. "Sheesh! I've met Gamorreans who didn't smell as bad as you Sith!"
The Sith stepped closer, irritated. "You think you're pretty funny, don't you?" he asked menacingly. Mission shrugged. She wanted him mad. "But you're only making things worse for yourself," he continued.
Mission put her hands on her hips. "How come every time you open your mouth to talk the scent of rancor dung comes out?" she inquired, supremely unconcerned.
The Sith tensed. "Maybe a little time in solitary confinement will teach you the proper respect for the Sith!" He shoved her roughly, and she stumbled against him. "Now get into that cell!"
Mission recovered herself, palming the Sith guard's keycard and walking easily into the prison cell.
"Who designed those Sith uniforms anyway?" she asked, unable to resist. "A blind Rodian with a sick sense of humor?" And no idea of security at all? she thought to herself.
The Sith actually came into her cell, walking right up to her and staring down at her as if she were a mosquito biting him. "Oh, that's funny," he murmured. "You should tell that one to the torturer when he comes to deal with you."
Mission made sure to play her part. He thought she was a snippy child. She'd give him a child. It wasn't as if she had nothing to work with. She was scared stiff. Only an idiot wouldn't be. So she let him see it. She widened her eyes. "What? You're…you're going to torture me?"
The Sith laughed in her face. "What?" he asked. "No snappy comeback this time? The thought of torture scares you, hmm?" He stepped back, and snapped, "Well it should. The Sith have ways to inflict pain you can't even imagine. It may be a few hours before your torture begins; we're busy interrogating your friends right now, you know, the two pretty Jedi and the Republic man. Hey, I know! You could use the time to think up witty ways to beg for mercy!" Laughing, he walked away, activating the force field that blocked her cell door.
Mission bit her lip, waiting for the sound of his footsteps to fade. Then to herself she said, "Or I could use the keycard I lifted from your pocket to slice into the security panel and get myself out of this cell. It seems like a good idea to me."
It took her less than thirty seconds to hack the system and let herself out. Mission snorted at the inefficiency of it all. Really, they had better locks in the Tarisian sewers. "Piece of cake," she said softly. "I wonder when people will stop underestimating me."
Mission took a breath. Aithne didn't. Underestimate her, that is. Particularly now, Mission was a little worried that Aithne might be overestimating her. Sure, she could annoy a guard, get chucked into solitary confinement, and slice her way out of a cell. She might even be able to last a few days out of confinement completely unnoticed. But could she really bust all the others out of high security detention on a Sith ship of over three hundred people on red alert? Mission swallowed. Aithne had decided to trust her. Not Canderous, not Jolee, not Juhani, not even Big Z. Aithne was trusting Mission to get her, and everybody out of this mess. Mission couldn't afford to be the little kid that ran for help in the Tarisian Undercity. She blinked. Hmph. And she'd thought she was grown up then. Strange how fast things changed. Mission squared her shoulders. Aithne, Carth, and Bastila were being tortured. It was time and past to be moving.
In the backstreets and alleys of the Tarisian Lower City, you kept quiet and out of sight or you got hurt. Mission had learned her lessons there, and now she utilized everything she'd ever picked up or thought of. She used the shadows to conceal her movements as she searched the brig. She kept her breathing even and deep, slowing her heart rate and making herself harder to hear.
Eventually Mission found what she was looking for. At the end of the hallway, the Sith had stowed contraband from various no-name prisoners. It wasn't her own gear, but it would do. Mission acquired a combat suit and blasters from the tub there. The blasters were rough and clumsy in comparison to the well-matched pair Carth and Aithne had gifted her with, but she'd used the like on Taris. She also found a few medpacs already tucked in a bag, and even discovered a stealth field generator. It was more than Mission had hoped for. She dressed silently and equipped the bag and weapons. Some of her nervousness evaporated.
"Now we're talkin'," she breathed.
She activated the stealth field and crept along down the hall, looking for something, anything that might tell her where the others were and how she might rescue them. She held her breath as she passed within a hand span of Mr. Witty-Ways-to-Beg-for-Mercy, but she needn't have worried. He didn't notice a thing. He was walking the other direction, presumably patrolling, or off to his post.
She would have just gone on by. Guards after all were things to be avoided or killed. All alone, and with all her friends depending on her, Mission was leaning towards the avoidance option, but the guard passed a door and opened it. He shouted a hello to his buddy the technician, and Mission halted.
There was a computer. Mission's stomach clenched in victory, and she drew close to the wall, waiting silently for the guard to go on his merry way. Eventually he did, and Mission peered into the computer room. There were two tech-guys there. Slowly, so she didn't make any sound to alert them, Mission set her blaster to stun. Taking careful aim, just like Canderous and Carth had taught her, she fired. Once! Twice!
The technicians fell to the tiled floor with a clatter of armor. Mission waited thirty seconds, but no one came to check the source of the sound. Picking her way around the unconscious Sith, Mission approached the computer.
Mission shook her head in quiet contempt. For a high-class Sith interdictor ship, or whatever Carth had called this monster, security was terrible. She was able to worm her way into the system in almost no time at all. She brought up the layout of the brig level, and studied it, both to memorize her own position and to discover where her companions might be kept. Mission breathed a sigh of relief. Aithne, Carth, Big Z and the others were probably being held in the Detention Block, not too far from her current location.
Mission then checked the cameras briefly for any obstacles that might be between her and the others. To her relief, it looked like there were only three guards standing shooting the breeze in the hallway immediately before the detention area.
A groan alerted her to the fact that the unconscious Sith in the room were starting to come around. Quick as lightning, Mission shot them both back to sleep again. She couldn't have them sounding the alarm before she'd rescued the others, but she remembered that Sith in the Undercity that had died defending one of its citizens, and didn't really want to shoot to kill.
She moved from the computer room towards the detention area as swiftly and as silently as she could. For all she knew, they were still torturing Aithne, Carth, and Bastila. She bit her lip, wondering what she'd do if they were still torturing her friends when she got there. Something ugly clenched in her stomach. Bastila was a little stuck up sometimes, but she was great to talk to on chore rotation, and Carth and Aithne...Mission hadn't had anybody but Big Z, and they'd been there for her. They treated her like family, both of them. It was annoying sometimes, sure, but if she walked in there and she saw someone hurting the pair of them, that someone would pay for it.
In the distance and up a ramp were the three guys Mission had seen on the cameras earlier. They hadn't moved since then, and didn't look like they planned on moving any time soon. Mission looked over at the other end of the corridor she stood in.
There was the elevator. In order to get to the hangar and the Ebon Hawk, she and the others would have to pass this way again. Mission winced, and upped the setting on her blasters, setting her teeth.
Quietly she crept up behind the trio. The first died from a clear shot to the back of the head. He never knew what hit him. The second was felled in a rapid fire strike Mission had learned from Carth. The third saw his companions fall, and grabbed at his weapon, but it was too late. A bolt went through the top of his head as he fumbled for his sword, and he, too, fell.
Mission looked down at the three guards, a little sad. But then, lifting her chin, she strode past them, keyed into the detention area, and went to the computer she'd known would be there.
Mission now knew the Sith brig system like an old friend. She was into it as easily as if she had waved and asked to be let in. And when she was, she had only one command.
"Open security. Release prisoners."
Zaalbar was the first to Mission. He caught her up in one of his bone crushing, rather smelly hugs.
/You did it! I am glad to see you,/ he said.
"Good job, kid," Canderous grunted.
"Not half bad," Jolee agreed. "You were quick about it, at least."
The crew fell silent as three figures walked out of the interrogation chamber, moving slowly, circles under their eyes and scorch marks on their minimal clothing, but proudly erect and definitely alive.
Mission's insides twisted in guilt. "Aithne, Carth, Bastila—I'm so sorry, I should've been quicker…" but Aithne walked to her and grabbed her hand.
"You didn't push the button, Mish. You're the one that just got us out of there so they won't ever push it again. Thank you."
"I knew you wouldn't let us down," Carth told her, smiling proudly. "When we get out of this, I'm going to see you get a medal from the Republic for all you've done."
Mission made a face at him. Like that'd accomplish anything. "What would I do with a medal?" she demanded. "Let's get out of here."
AITHNE POV
"Mission," Aithne said, "None of us have any weapons or clothes."
Mission looked at her blasters and combat suit pointedly.
"Except you," Juhani said with a touch of exasperation.
Carth thought for a moment. "If I remember the layout of this ship our equipment should be in a storage chamber just through the north doors." He indicated the door that Ebon Hawk crew hadn't been through yet in the detention area. "After we grab our stuff we need to get to the main bridge controls. The bridge is the only place we can open the docking gates of the hangar where they've got the Ebon Hawk. We have to open those gates before we can get out of here."
"We better get moving," Bastila said worriedly. "I can feel the darkness of Malak's presence approaching, and I don't want to be here when he arrives. None of us is a match for the Sith Lord."
Aithne nodded, adding to herself, Not yet. "What's the plan?" she asked Carth and Bastila, the ones most familiar with Sith and the Leviathan.
Bastila looked thoughtful, then said positively, "Surprise and secrecy will serve us best. A small group might have a better chance of sneaking onto the bridge undetected while the others make their way to the Ebon Hawk."
Carth's eyebrows met threateningly. "Count me in, then!" he growled. "I've got a score to settle with the Admiral before we get off this ship, and I have a feeling that I'm going to find him on the Leviathan's bridge!"
Aithne's body flooded with adrenaline at the anger and determination in Carth's voice. She stepped up beside him. "You're not going without me!" she cried.
Bastila looked at the two of them. "Of course not," she said crisply. "I'm going, too. The others can get to the Ebon Hawk on their own, but all three of us need to go to the bridge."
Aithne looked at Bastila in gratitude, knowing she was coming along to help Aithne make sure Carth didn't do anything idiotic, and to guard Aithne from her own emotions if he did. She looked at the crew before her, standing awaiting her orders.
"Alright," she told them. "So the three of us will head to the bridge. All of you need to find the Ebon Hawk. You'll have to find a way to handle the guards."
Canderous smiled unpleasantly. "Don't you worry about that," he assured her, looking speculatively at Juhani, Zaalbar, and HK-47. "I know how to deal with the guards. They won't know what hit them!"
Aithne looked sharply at him. "Good. 'Cause I'm placing you in command. Get your equipment, deal with the guards," she stared straight into his blue eyes. "And keep everyone alive."
Canderous looked now at Mission, Teethree, and Jolee. He nodded at Aithne.
"We'll meet you there as soon as we get those docking bay doors open," Bastila assured him. "Just make sure the Hawk is ready to fly when we get there!" She paused, looking no less dignified for the fact that she was still mostly naked. "May the Force be with you."
With a nod, Canderous led the others away. Bastila stood there importantly until Aithne poked her in the side.
"Heavy moment and all. I get that. But can we get our equipment, too? I don't think Karath will be too impressed if we show up to hijack the bridge half-naked pointing finger guns at him."
"You do have a point," Bastila conceded. The three of them started moving to get their equipment. Canderous led the others past towards the Hawk with a wave of his recovered com-link. Aithne nodded. He'd be in touch.
They found everything in the room Carth had mentioned. The Sith had folded Aithne's clothes into a neat little barrel. Aithne donned them quickly, and suddenly felt much better. She found her pack hung up in a locker, with her lightsabers stuck unceremoniously in the top of it.
"Really, it's almost as if they were expecting us to come along and need our stuff," Aithne observed, grabbing Bastila's boots and handing them to her.
"Nice of them to keep all of our gear together," Carth agreed. In three minutes, all of them were dressed, armed to the teeth, and, once Aithne had used the Force to heal the hurts that still smarted from their earlier torture, feeling considerably healthier.
"Alright then," said Bastila. "Let's go."
They met no-one on their way to the elevator. But as they were about to embark, Aithne's com-link buzzed.
She switched it on. "Aithne here," she said shortly.
"This is Canderous," came the voice of the Mandalorian in a low growl. "We're at the Ebon Hawk. Like we figured, it's under heavy guard. But don't worry, we'll figure out a plan to take care of them."
"I leave it to your good judgment," Aithne said. "Over and out."
They took the elevator to the bridge level. Carth closed his eyes when he heard the alarms ringing. He swore under his breath. "They must have got news of our escape," he explained to the others. "The place will be crawling with troops, and the bridge will have locked down. We could probably get around to it from the maintenance walk…but it's a ways from here."
"And we'll need suits," Aithne said, thinking rapidly. "Where's the armory, Carth?"
Carth thought. "A few doors down," he said. "But there will be technicians, and guards in the way."
Aithne shrugged. "We'll have to risk it," she said. "If they get in the way, incapacitate, don't kill. We don't have time to kill everyone in our way right now. "
Bastila nodded, and she was the first one out of the elevator.
It was rather like wading through drying cement, Aithne thought, or caramel. Every time one soldier went down, another one, or a droid, or sometimes a low-caliber Dark Jedi, sprung up in his place. But finally, spattered with blood and breathing hard, they made it to the armory. As Aithne had suspected, the Leviathan kept space suits in stock there, and they grabbed three of them.
"We'll have to take care of them with the Force, Bastila," she told her friend, toting the heavy suit along with her. "Or Carth will have to shoot them until we get to the maintenance walk."
Bastila nodded, and Carth upped the setting on his blasters. They weren't attacked as much on the way to the maintenance walk as they had been on the way to the armory. Carth led them around, and once they got to the room with the airlock branching off of it, they were completely alone.
They began to put on the space suits.
"Remember," Carth said from within his helmet when they were finished. "When we get to the bridge, Saul Karath is mine."
Aithne nodded. "I won't get in the way," she promised, her voice coming out tinny and small. "But I'll have your back. I don't want you killed."
Carth started out the airlock, but threw back over his shoulder. "Beautiful, I don't want me killed either, anymore."
Aithne savored that for half a second, and then followed him with Bastila.
The maintenance walk was cold. Well, it would be, Aithne thought. It was space. She looked out over the edge of the Leviathan. Beneath her were thousands of stars and countless planets. Aithne had been to many of them in her years of scouting, but she hadn't yet visited them all. But she'd been around enough to know that all around her were people living their lives in fear now because of the ship she clung to the side of and the people it contained. She pressed forward.
On the other side of the walk, safe inside the ship once more, Aithne, Bastila, and Carth left their suits. Should they need them, they would return for them after they dealt with Saul Karath and opened the docking bay doors.
They opened a door, and looked at three guards. The door beyond them, Aithne knew, had to be the bridge proper. Admiral Karath would be there, and Carth could have the revenge he'd waited for all this time. There, too, they could open the docking bay doors so that they could fly the Ebon Hawk to freedom. But first they had to go through these last three guards. They hadn't fired yet. They were just standing there, trembling. Aithne stared at them.
"You're in the way, boys," Aithne said finally. One of the soldiers flinched at the sound of her voice.
Another of them spoke up, though. "Darth Malak is coming," he declared. "He'll take care of you, even if you kill us!"
Aithne looked a bit more closely at the three guards. They were boys. Maybe Bastila's age, or younger, even. Aithne was vaguely reminded of Trask, the young Republic ensign that had given his life for her back on the Endar Spire. These Sith were just as full of zeal and conviction. Aithne realized that to these kids, she and Bastila and Carth probably looked much like that Dark Jedi had to Trask.
Aithne sighed. "Look," she said. "Just move. We just want to leave. You're young. Don't make us hurt you."
The third boy stuck out his chin. "You would harm Admiral Karath, and leave before Lord Malak arrives. It is our duty to detain you. We shall do our duty, though we perish in the attempt."
At his words the other two straightened, and though the boy's language was formal, bordering on pompous, Aithne had to admire the bravery and nobility of the gesture. She activated her lightsaber, but held off a moment more. "What are your names?" she asked quietly.
"Gavin," said the trembler. "Peter," said the second. The noble speaker looked at her for a moment.
"I'm Lahad," he said finally. "The man's Carth Onasi, and the Jedi next to you is Bastila. But who are you?"
"Aithne Morrigan," returned the same. "Lahad, I really don't want to kill you."
The boy looked at her steadily, and Aithne thought for a moment that she loved him, though he was her enemy. "I don't want to kill you, either, Aithne Morrigan."
But there was nothing for it. All of them knew it. So Lahad cried "Fire!"
And a tear ran down Aithne's face as she deflected the blaster bolts back at the young guards. Carth shot down Gavin. Bastila pushed Peter into a wall before moving in for the kill, and Aithne cut down Lahad herself. Her face felt like stone, but a curse was in her heart for the evil of war.
Bastila gripped Aithne's shoulder before they walked through the door, and touched her mind with gentle compassion, but Carth's jaw was tight. He wasn't seeing the boys they'd just killed. Aithne doubted that he was aware of Bastila or even herself as he keyed the door open. Aithne followed him silently through the door and onto the Leviathan's bridge. Everything was silent for a moment.
Karath was waiting for them, accompanied by two dark Jedi and four men that looked like special forces. He didn't look surprised in the least to be facing the three of them, though the alarm could not have told him which prisoners had been tearing up the bridge level. But Aithne had thought he might be ready for them. Karath had been Carth's mentor. He knew what he was capable of. And indeed, Saul's first words were to Carth.
"Very resourceful. I assume you had some part in this; you learned your lessons well from me."
Every line of Carth's body was tense and poised for action as he replied, "The only thing you taught me was betrayal and death, Saul."
Saul's face hardened, but Aithne thought she detected a little hurt in his voice as he snapped, "Don't be a fool. I'm giving you and your companions a chance to surrender. A chance to live. Darth Malak himself is on his way. He will be arriving any moment."
Bastila shot a nervous glance out the front display, as if expecting a ship to draw up. "He speaks the truth, Carth," she said tightly. "I can feel the Dark Lord's presence approaching."
Saul seemed to grow more confident as Bastila expressed her nervousness. "Malak will destroy you," he said. "But if you put down your weapons now I will ask my master to be merciful."
Aithne laughed. "Yeah, that's likely," she said. Saul shot her an annoyed glance, but looked to Carth.
The pilot's face was stormy and grim. "I've seen enough of Sith mercy!" he said.
Saul sighed, and there was just a trace of genuine regret in his voice when he said, "You always did like to do things the hard way. Lord Malak would have preferred prisoners, but corpses will have to do."
Aithne leapt upon the special forces men, while Bastila moved on the Dark Jedi. Aithne cut with her lightsaber, but the motions were instinctive. Almost all her attention was on Carth.
Carth stood mid-deck facing Saul Karath. From Karath's stance, Aithne could tell that he, too, was an expert marksman. Both men had years of experience and finely fashioned weapons. Saul had years of evil on his side, together with the determination that had made him Malak's number one military man. But Carth had years of anger and hate, fueled by the love he had borne his homeworld, his son, and his wife, and the betrayal he had suffered at the hands of this man he had admired.
Saul twitched. Both men brought up their blasters at once. Carth dodged, fired, and it was the admiral that sank with Carth's bolt in his body. With one look of disgust, Carth turned on the remaining Sith guards.
When it was all over, Aithne picked her way through the bodies. The bridge terminal was not secured. Undoubtedly someone had been using it before their invasion of the bridge. Aithne keyed open the docking doors, and turned to the others.
"Let…"
But a cough halted her, a wet, bloody cough. "Carth…" rasped a voice. "Carth."
The keen eyed Bastila spotted the survivor. "The Admiral," she said. "He's still alive!"
Carth drew a knife from his belt. His face was darker than Aithne had ever seen it. She felt almost afraid of him. "It's time to finish this," he said.
Aithne had promised not to interfere. But now as Carth strode purposefully towards the helpless, dying man, his aura was growing darker by the second. Aithne stepped between Carth and the admiral.
"Just leave him, Carth," she said quietly. "Please. I don't want to see who you'll become if you give in to your hatred now."
Carth turned on her, surprised, but he halted his motion towards Saul Karath. "Don't you understand what this man has done to my life?" he asked, with a violent gesture towards the dying old man. "Do you know the pain he's brought me?"
Bastila placed a firm hand on Carth's arm, forcing him to look at her. "Killing him won't ease the pain, Carth," she said urgently. "Do not become what you despise!"
But the Admiral still called. "Carth…" he rasped, desperately. "Must tell you something…" with a pale, worn, bloodied hand he beckoned. "Come closer."
Aithne circled the admiral and kicked the blaster next to him out of his reach. Carth sheathed his knife then, and knelt beside his former mentor to hear his dying words.
Saul whispered something to Carth. Aithne couldn't hear him. Bastila couldn't, either. But both women saw Carth's expression change from anger and curiosity to disbelief and puzzlement.
Saul laughed, a broken, rasping, terrible sound, and Aithne saw the malice on his face and an awful wave of foreboding swept over her. "You didn't know, did you?" Saul asked Carth in failing tones. "Remember my dying words, Carth," he said venomously, coughing. He reminded Aithne of a snake, biting even as someone stepped on it and crushed it. "Remember them whenever…whenever you look at those you thought were your friends!"
Aithne's stomach dropped. It had to be her. She didn't know how, or what, but she knew it had to be her. Karath had told Carth something terrible about her just now, something solely meant to hurt him, as some sort of twisted revenge.
"He's gone," Carth reported, his face clouded. He appeared to be thinking very rapidly. "He said…it can't be true, can it?" Aithne saw him put something together, though, and whatever he'd put together made sense. And it was horrible. Carth sprang up suddenly. He was angrier than she had ever seen him. His face was white, his fists clenched. "No," he said softly. "No!" Louder. Then "NO!" Almost a shout. "It can't!" he cried, but Aithne could tell it was denial. "Damn you, Saul," Carth hissed at the corpse. "Damn you!"
"What did he say?" Aithne demanded. She wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know. Her stomach knotted and clenched. Her heart was in her throat and she felt the blood drain from her face. It seemed as if all this time she had been walking towards a precipice. Now she felt that she stood upon the very brink, and she had a horrid feeling that she was about to fall off, especially when Carth rounded on Bastila, furious.
"Bastila- it is true, isn't it?" he demanded. "And…and that's what you knew! You and the whole damn Jedi Council. You knew the whole time!"
Bastila's eyes went wide in understanding, and her gaze flickered from the window to Carth to the corpse to Aithne in rapid panic. "Carth, please," she begged softly. "It's not what you think. We had no other choice! Please, you don't understand."
Carth was in Bastila's face by now. "So make me understand!" he challenged.
"What's going on?" Aithne cried. "Bastila! Carth?"
Bastila's eyes merely flickered to the window again. "Not here, Carth," she pleaded. "Please, there's no time! Malak is coming. This isn't the place. Please, Carth, I'm asking you to trust me. For just a little while longer."
Aithne felt the shadow that was Malak approaching, and she, too, look nervously out the window. "Bastila's right, Carth. Malak's almost here. We have to go. But later…you're going to tell me what Karath told you that makes you look angrier than I've ever seen you. And Bastila- you're going to tell me why you look like the world's ending and it's your fault. But later. Not now."
Carth looked at her briefly, and then away, but the brief glance gave Aithne a chill. It was an angry, distrustful glance, colder than even the looks he'd given her at the beginning of their acquaintance when he'd suspected her of being a spy. He…he looked at her as if she were some sort of monster.
"I'll trust you, Bastila," Carth said, not even replying to Aithne. "But as soon as we're off this ship I expect some answers!"
"Of course, Carth," Bastila promised. "As soon as we get to the Ebon Hawk. I'll explain everything." She looked at Aithne, fear, and…and compassion in her gaze. "To both of you. I promise!"
Aithne led the way back to the elevator. But through the entire space walk, through the nearly empty corridors of the bridge level, the party was completely silent. Carth simmered behind Aithne. Bastila's guilt, worry, and fear rolled off her in nearly overwhelming waves. Aithne couldn't help but tremble, afraid because Bastila was so afraid. She thought as they entered the elevator and began to descend to the hangar that she might even be more afraid of what Karath had told Carth and what Bastila knew than she was of the approaching Dark Lord of the Sith.
A/N:I'm actually behind on this story right now. I ought to be halfway finished writing Manaan as I post this. But I've only just started. I'm only three, rather than five chapters ahead of you guys. It's just, I figure it's not fair to you to hold off posting when I've written the climactic plot twist and the immediate aftermath. I know in your shoes I'd hate that. So here.
I really like the Mission part of this chapter, but I'm not sure if I haven't gone overboard with the intuitive foreshadowing on the second half. Let me know, hmm? Leave a review and let me know what I could have done better. Or if I nailed it. That's good, too.
May the Force Be With You,
LMSharp