Author's Note: Before you proceed to read this chapter, my dear readers, I strongly advise you to go back and read Chapter 41 of this fic. I had only just discovered that, in posting that chapter, I had mistakenly posted a chapter from the first Fallout of Scars (oops!). So if you would all care to read, or rather reread, that chapter, you'll get the much-needed context for Judicar now being alone and having felt Lumiya's death in Chapter 42.

Mirax had done her best making her way back down to Jeck's mechanics shop without revealing the pain of her dislocated shoulder in either her disguised face or her body language to the passerby around her. Upon reaching the shop, she opened the door with her good arm, stepped inside, and said to the owner, who was once again behind his workbench/counter, "Jeck, I know you weren't a field medic back in the day, but I need you to-"

"Freeze!" came the sudden demand from a CorSec officer who just then stepped out from the entrance to the shop's rear. The cop had levelled his standard-issue handblaster up at her just as another cop joined him from the rear's entrance and brought up his own blaster in her direction. "Now, very carefully, put your hands over your head!"

Mirax grimaced; of course Jeck would have alerted the authorities about her after she left to track down Darth Judicar before she even knew that the Sith was the one tracking her in the first place. She chided herself for letting her panic upon escaping from Judicar, combined with the continued pain of her arm, to cloud her judgment in coming back here.

Still, she couldn't help but exclaim, "Jeck, how could you?! After all I did for you, you-"

"I said hands over your head!" the first cop interrupted again.

Mirax set aside her anger at Jeck's betrayal as she addressed the officer. "Yeah, well, that's gonna be difficult, as my arm here is kinda busted and-"

Before she could complete that sentence, the cop who spoke fired a stun blast from his pistol and Mirax dropped to the floor unconscious.

. . .

"Wakey-wakey, Jacen," Sal-Solo's voice said just as the addressed Jedi was coming out of the stun blast that had knocked him out.

When his vision finally cleared up, Jacen once again found himself floating and immobilized over the floor of what appeared to be the very same cell in which he was first placed after Sal-Solo's goons captured him.

"So here we are again," Sal-Solo remarked before shaking his head as if in disappointment. "That was a really stupid move you pulled back in my office there, buddy. I don't take kindly too kindly to being intimidated with the Force like that, or you blatantly going against my orders in goin' after your sister."

"Yeah, well, you made a dumber move by puttin' me back here, Thrackan," Jacen countered. "And with Acheron back in her cell, as you told me, now you got no one to protect you, or no one who could really protect you, if any o' those Sith Acheron's with-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I should quake in my boots over that. Maybe I should be scared o' Jaina, too, assuming she's not officially aligned with Acheron's Sith already. But in case you haven't noticed, I've gotten pretty good at keepin' you Force-users under my thumb. So I don't think I need you as badly as you say I do."

"Then I guess you're just keepin' me here 'cause we're family?"

"Not quite. You got just enough room to move your head, so I suggest you look down at your feet, Jacen."

The Jedi complied warily, and somehow, he wasn't surprised to find a bracelet identical to Acheron's now over his right ankle. When he looked back at Sal-Solo, the older man said, "As you can see, cousin, I rectified my mistake in giving you more freedom than Acheron in the first place. Now, when the GA and Chiss duke it out here, I'll let you and the Sith formerly known as Tahiri Veila out of your cells so you can work for me properly in repelling this upcoming double invasion."

"So you're really that confident that neither Jaina or any of the Sith Acheron was with can get to you even if they tried?"

"What do you think?" Sal-Solo retorted.

"Well, then, you better hope that whatever Jaina's doing on Centerpoint, Thrackan, it won't come back to bite you in the-"

"I think that if Jaina were gonna pull anything here, she woulda done it by this point. Now if you'll excuse me," Sal-Solo said condescendingly, "I gotta work with Admiral Antilles on fine-tuning the details of the Corellian fleet's organization when the battle finally comes. So I hope you don't get too bored floatin' up there before I see you again when the GA and Chiss finally arrive." Sal-Solo then turned and left the cell.

. . .

Leia sat on a plush couch in the living quarters of the hotel suite in which she, Han, C-3PO, Cakhmaim, Meewalh, and Jaden Korr had all been living in for nearly the past week. There, she regarded several holographic images that she swiped past in a row, which all displayed Jaina in her younger years. They ranged from when she had been an infant with Jacen to when she was a toddler, then a preteen, and then when she had been fighting with Rogue Squadron and, later, Twin Suns Squadron during the Yuuzhan Vong War.

She almost didn't notice Han enter the room from the kitchen; when she looked up, he asked, "What are you lookin' at there?"

"Nothing," she answered evasively as she turned the 'pad off and set it aside. "It's nothing."

"Doesn't sound like nothing to me," he said as he stepped closer to her. "It was about Jaina, wasn't it." It wasn't a question.

She sighed in sadness before she looked back up at him. "How could we let this happen to her, Han? How could we let her go down this path?"

"Leia, please, don't do this to yourself," he said as he sat down next to her and put a comforting arm around her shoulders. "It's not your fault, okay? If anything, it's-"

"If you say it's your fault, Han, save it," Leia said more harshly than she intended. "Because it really is my fault. I should've been there for her. I shoulda gone to Luke and told her that sending her back out into the Unknown Regions after Zekk died was a bad idea. What she needed was time away from everything that happened because of the Killiks. Now Mara's dead, and so are so many other people. And another galactic war started because I wasn't there to help her, Han! I wasn't there to help Jaina!"

She abruptly stood up from the couch and walked hastily to the closed balcony; with her back to Han, she began sobbing quietly to herself.

Warily, and with tears beginning to form in his own eyes, Han stood up from the couch and carefully sneaked up on Leia to place a comforting hand on each of her shoulders. Almost immediately, she turned to him and embraced him so that her face was pressed up against his chest as she continued to cry.

"We'll save her, Leia," Han whispered to her as he finally allowed his own tears to stream freely from his eyes. "If it's the last thing we'll do, we'll save her."

. . .

Standing on the bridge of her flagship, the Chiss Star Destroyer Elash, Admiral Iosha stood looking out through the main viewport at the site of over a dozen other Chiss Destroyers and even more battle cruisers that were gathered here in this blank and unnamed remote system. Within this system, in which Iosha had based her ship for the past several weeks, those vessels had pulled out of the various territories that their crews had taken and occupied from the Galactic Alliance during what the enemy called the Chiss War and what the Ascendancy had come to call the Outside War. Now they were all here, her section of the fleet meant to invade the Corellian system and either take over or destroy Centerpoint Station. Otherwise, the Ascendancy, and, by extension, the One Sith, faced the threat of having that station be used against them, whether by the native Corellians or by the GA should they succeed in taking Centerpoint.

Of course, the pervading feeling that resided more in her gut than in her Force-senses continued to warn Iosha that this was all a mistake, that this was all somehow a GA ruse meant to root her and Admiral Ulaska out of hiding and either kill or capture them both. Still, after Shev Krath's ominous warning about what his agent on Centerpoint conveyed to him through the Force before that agent died, there was no way either Iosha or Ulaska could afford not to act, dubious though that information may have seemed.

Now all Iosha had to do was wait for Ulaska, the last major commander in the Chiss fleet, to call in and inform her that his section of the massive task force was fully organized and ready for the invasion of the Corellian system.

"Admiral Iosha," a comm officer reported, "Admiral Ulaska has called in. He asks to speak to you privately."

"I'll take his transmission from my command salon," Iosha stated. She then turned and headed to that salon near the bridge's rear.

Upon arriving and setting herself down in her seat, Iosha breathed out a reluctant sigh, partially wishing that this wouldn't happen.

Then she pressed the button that brought up Ulaska's miniature holographic representation.

"My fleet is ready, Admiral," the male Chiss reported stoically.

"Good," Iosha responded. "Then let's get this started."

With that, she signed off and exited the salon to take her seat in the bridge's command chair between Captain Gendu and Commander Kusaka, both male Chiss, who had promptly seated themselves after her.

Iosha pressed a button on her right armrest and said, "Attention, all fleet commanders in this system, this is Admiral Iosha. Ready your hyperdrives and report in; at my mark, we are ready to jump all the way to the Corellian system."

Several tense moments passed with one commander in Iosha's fleet after another reporting in their respective ship's hyperdrive readiness. Once the last commander reported in, she said, "All ships, mark."

Then all of Admiral Iosha's ships jumped into hyperspace for the Corellian system simultaneously, just as Ulaska's vessels did, too, from their own hidden system several hundred light years elsewhere.

. . .

From the bridge of his repaired Galactic Alliance Star Destroyer Admiral Ackbar, Admiral Bwua'tu seated himself in his own command salon after being told by one of his comm officers that Jedi Master Kyle Katarn wished to speak to him privately.

When the Bothan brought up Katarn's holographic representation, the Jedi said, "The Chiss fleets have launched, Admiral Bwua'tu; and they're all heading for the Corellian system."

"Very good, Master Katarn," Bwua'tu remarked with a battle-hungry growl behind his tone. "My personal fleet and the fleets of the other GA commanders are also ready. You may feel free to launch your own fighters ahead, Master Jedi; we will not be long behind you."

"Acknowledged, Admiral Bwua'tu," Katarn replied with a curt military tone and a matching nod. "And may the Force be with you."

"As with you," Bwua'tu said before he signed off. He then stood up and walked out of his command salon to issue orders similar to Admiral Iosha's mere moments before his own fleet jumped into hyperspace.

. . .

When Mirax awakened and her vision cleared from the effects of the stun blast, she found herself in a plain steel-grey cell with a simple refresher unit in one corner and a thin cot in the other. Her clothes were replaced with a roomy pocket-less jumpsuit that matched the color of the room, her purse—and, naturally, everything in it—were nowhere in sight, and a simple touch to her face confirmed that the synthflesh that concealed her true features were also missing. A quick look in the transparisteel mirror placed over the 'fresher's sink showed that even her contact lenses were gone and that only her red dye job was all that remained of her disguise.

Multiple knocks at the door to her cell brought her attention to the barred window there; a stern-looking human man with a square jaw and a cap that denoted that he was part of Centerpoint's local security force regarded her from the outside.

"Prisoner Four-Nine-Seven-Eight-Dash-Nine-Six," the guard said in a rote tone, "now that you are awake at this time as expected, it is my obligation to inform you that you have been arrested and are being incarcerated in Centerpoint Station's prison sector for conspiracy to commit murder against Head of State Sal-Solo."

"Now wait a minute," Mirax said, "I never-"

"You are also being detained for threatening the lives of the family of one Jeck Hashis," the guard interrupted with a raised tone. His voice levelled out back to its rote delivery as he continued with, "As soon as the lockdown to this station is lifted, you will be able to engage with your right to consult your lawyer. If you do not already have a lawyer, one will be assigned to you. Do you understand anything I just said, Prisoner Four-Nine-Seven-Eight-Dash-Nine-Six?"

Mirax breathed out through her nostrils in suppressed frustration before she calmly said, "Yes, I do."

"Your evening meal will be brought to you soon, Four-Nine-Seven-Eight-Dash-Nine-Six," the guard continued formally; Mirax couldn't help but wonder if he might have been a droid in disguise. "And as you can see, there is an alert button next to this door in case you are having any physical problems or illnesses. I advise you, however, to use it only when absolutely necessary." His tone sounded more impatient, and thus more human, when he said, "So no fake-outs or anything like that to try to escape, ya got it?"

"Yeah, I got it," Mirax said with a sneer.

"And careful with that tone," the guard said with a growl. "You might not last long in here with that attitude." Then he turned to his left and departed from Mirax's view.

She growled in frustration and punched the mirror with her right fist.

That was when her eyes widened in surprise as her anger over her current predicament subsided. She swung her right arm over a couple of times, noticing that it felt better; if there was an upside to her capture by CorSec, she thought, it was that they popped her shoulder back in while she was under.

Then she froze as she remembered why her shoulder had been popped out in the first place; it was because of Darth Judicar. And as far as she knew, she was still out there, freely operating to do whatever she intended to do on this station... and not paying for the crime of killing Mirax's father.

She looked next to her cell's locked exit and found the alert button that the guard indicated just before he left. Mirax pressed it and said, "Hello?"

"Are you experiencing any physical problems or illnesses, Prisoner Four-Nine-Seven-Eight-Dash-Nine-Six?" a gruff and annoyed male voice asked from the intercom above the button.

"No, but I-"

"Then this is your last warning," the voice interrupted harshly. "Do not use this intercom again unless you have an actual physical problem or illness. Otherwise, you will be left completely alone when not in genpop." A burst of static signaled that the connection had been cut off from the other end.

Mirax was tempted to try to contact whoever was on the other end again, but then tentatively reconsidered before heading back to sit down upon her cot.

Fine, she thought. If no one in Centerpoint's prison sector was willing to hear her out that there was a Sith running loose on this station—assuming that Judicar wasn't caught or killed already—then Mirax hoped she wiped them out. And, at this point, she didn't even care that she wished death to the people who were in more or less the same field of work as her late husband.

. . .

From her hidden place in an abandoned and rundown apartment complex deep in Centerpoint's lowest public levels, Darth Judicar sat in the center of a torn-up yet still functional couch as if she were a regal queen even as several vagrants surrounded her. However, they all deliberately kept their distance with equal amounts of fear and respect, as instilled in their simple and, in some cases, drug-addled minds through the Sith's powerful Force-suggestions from when she arrived just two days beforehand.

"I'm hungry," she announced wildly. "Who here is most willing to give up their food rations for me?"

A dirtied older man stepped forward and presented a bag to her; Judicar could feel his hunger and how, in what could be a matter of one or two days, he might even die of malnutrition. Yet, because of the hold that she held over him and the other vagrants, he was unwilling to resist her.

"Thank you," she said politely as she took the bag from him. She unraveled it and downed the contents of the local homeless shelter's food contents as if they were her ordained right.

It might not have been the most ideal situation for a Sith Lord such as her, Judicar thought. But it would do until whatever would come to pass in the Corellian system would come to pass; and then Judicar would fulfill her destiny of destroying the Jedi.