A/N: Thank you to DojoYoyo, Brick88, and Pulsar for the wonderful reviews; glad you're enjoying the action as the galaxy turns! The chaos only grows as Kamino's battle rages and we get a glimpse as to the Sith's next moves in the wake of the Republic's split and Maul's raid on Raxus…


Through the violence and the death he rises. Level by level Anakin works his way up Tipoca City, his lightsaber and his will cutting through the enemy. Killik, human, otherwise—he wastes no time distinguishing between them all as he slices through their ranks. Kill or be killed. So simple. The battle's lines clear even as the war's lines blur more by the day. In the chaos, Anakin knows exactly what he has to do.

As Anakin fights through Tipoca City's halls, clones in small teams and alone fall in behind him, splitting off from individual firefights and small-scale actions to join up on Anakin's push to secure their home. By the time he reaches the gene laboratories and clone development floors he's accrued a small army, clones from years-long war veterans of several different battalions to rookies straight out of the barracks with armor white and unblemished, all of them guarding his back, firing at the invaders, and pushing on to defend their home side-by-side with a Jedi. They are all warriors today. The fight endows them with a kinship of blood and force, brotherhood in battle known not by those who have never set foot in this most ancient of arenas. In combat are titles and orders disrobed, and here do will and ability and training and—more than all else—luck rise above all else. Here might the greenest clone become a hero. Here might the mightiest of Jedi fall to a stray blaster shot. Here do they fight on, battlefield to battlefield, the clones' home today, someone else's home tomorrow.

Anakin is not the only Jedi clashing in the sterile-white bowels of Tipoca City however. As he and his motley company of clones blast through a line of Tarkinist soldiers at the edge of the Genetic Records Hall, a squad of grenade launcher-armed Killiks wall off the way forward. Anakin dives behind cover as a wave of fire sends several clones flying. "Soldier!" he calls out to a trooper across the hallway. "Give me covering fire!"

"Sir!" the clone shouts. He raises up from cover behind a downed power converter just as an explosive comes in, striking him square in the torso and blowing him apart.

Anakin swears and ducks as the Killiks unload shot after shot. They aren't afraid of him, these insects. They especially aren't afraid of the clones. Tarkin sent the right monsters to do the job.

The whir of a lightsaber draws his eye. Behind the Killiks comes the flare of a blue lightsaber. A Togruta's striped montrals swinging through the air—but it is not Ahsoka.

Master Shaak Ti leaps over the rearmost Killik, lands palms-first, and launches a repulsion wave that stuns the beasts for just the moment Anakin needs. "Skywalker!" she shouts as she rights herself, saber raised and ready.

"C'mon!" Anakin bellows to his clones as he surges forward.

The troopers roar in unison as they rise out of cover and charge. Moving to defend their position, the Killiks turn on Anakin and unleash a barrage of explosives. The first line of clones fall as Anakin throws out a telekinetic wave, pushing back the shrapnel blast. Turning away from a charging Killik, he hurdles over its spearing blade arm, digs his saber into its carapace, and somersaults away as the insect howls and swings in a counterstrike. A flurry of blue blaster bolts down the beast as the clones rush on, brothers falling, still fighting.

Master Ti throws her lightsaber in an arc, decapitating the Killik in front of Anakin as he hurries forward. They fall in back-to-back, blocking shots and shielding with the Force to keep the explosives at bay. "They're a distraction," Master Ti shouts over the carnage as she dodges an errant blaster shot and throws a blasted scrap of wall plating like a missile at a Killik. "There's a team of Tarkin's soldiers heading to destroy the embryo labs. Your Padawan's already heading there with her men, but she'll need help."

"How far?" Anakin yells as he knocks a shot back at a Killik. A disappointing result: The insect takes the blaster and shrugs it off, roaring at Anakin before pivoting to defend against a squad of clones. "How much time?"

"Three halls down to your left, then down the long hallway. And not enough time. I'll give you cover—go!"

Anakin peels away as Shaak Ti rushes three of the Killiks, each one towering over her. Anakin doesn't doubt her for a moment: While she's just another Council member, Master Ti's been the Jedi's representative on Kamino ever since the war broke out. If there's anyone here who knows the clones, it's her. She'll get the job done. She'll protect their home.

Another Killik rounds on Anakin as he runs, blocking his charge. No time for a drawn-out fight: As the Killik plants its blade arms and howls, Anakin drops into a slide, one blade missing his head by an inch as he skids under the beast's abdomen. He plants his hand for leverage and swings into a run as the Killik whirls and strikes air. Good luck, monster. I've got your pals to deal with first.

Down Kamino's halls he sprints, every ounce of will and energy pumping in his blood, pumping his arms in rhythm with the pounding in his ears. Further. Faster. He drives down the long, wide, straight hall Master Ti mentioned, as plain white as the rest of Tipoca City save for the blood stains littering the floor and the bodies slumped here and there and everywhere. Durasteel double-doors at the far end of the hall explode as Anakin nears, and he dives to the ground as fire plumes out.

Too late? No. A pair of blue lightsabers whirl in the darkness beyond. Not too late. Just in time, in fact.

Anakin plows into the room as a Tarkinist soldier shouts in surprise. One cut and go: A moment and the man is dead, Anakin's lightsaber already past and reflecting incoming blaster shots. At the center of the chaos, a clone officer in blue-patterned armor and a Togruta with a lightsaber in each hand fight off all comers.

Right where they should be. And Anakin is right where he ought to be.

Four coming in from their left. Anakin doesn't bother to shout out to Ahsoka and Rex: He leaps in the air, twists, and with his off-hand throws a telekinetic blast at the onrushing enemies, hurling them into a wall with enough force to snap bones straight through their armor. As Anakin lands, he ducks to avoid an anti-personnel rocket sailing over his head. The missile veers to the left, arcing in the air of the high-ceilinged room before slamming into a floor-to-ceiling column lined with hundreds of glass tubes filled with electric blue fluid.

Embryos. The future of the clone army—going up in flame and debris.

"Master!" Ahsoka calls out as Anakin pivots, pulls on the rocket-armed enemy with the Force, and gores him with his lightsaber. "More coming in, far door!"

"Don't let up!" Anakin thunders as he turns to engage.

A clone ahead takes a blaster to the torso and drops in pain, firing his rifle one-handed as he presses his other hand to his side. "Fives!" Rex shouts, rushing ahead. "Get back."

Ahsoka is faster. She leaps ahead, knocking away blaster bolts and lurching in front of Fives as the ARC trooper crawls away wounded. "I've got you!" she shouts. "Get out of here."

"We still got work to do!" Fives shouts as he fires again.

"That's an order, soldier!" Rex says.

More and more coming through the far end with each second. The embryo hall is already in tatters; several columns, each home to hundreds of embryos in their fluid-filled tubes, are naught but smoke and flame. As Anakin pushes ahead through enemy fire, however, one of the ruined columns catches his eye. Wires and bent steel gouge out from the aftermath of a rocket hit. Its embryonic load is gone, but it can still do some good.

"Hold them off," Anakin shouts to Ahsoka as he reaches out with the Force.

"What?"

"Just hold them off!"

No time to hold back. Anakin throws all of his anger at this wanton destruction into the Force, gripping the explosive-battered foundation of the embryo column and crushing down with his will and his rage. The metal caves in, groans, shrieks as Anakin lays it on. Tarkin. Not an ounce of loyalty in that traitor. No rules of engagement. No decency. Just mindless warring, brutality that infuriates Anakin. Use that fury. Focus it. Channel it.

Dooku's taunt from Sullust echoes in his mind: You have anger! You have hate! And now—now—you use them!

Anakin crushes the column's foundation and brings it down on the Tarkinist soldiers' position. They scream and scatter as the forty-foot-tall pillar topples over onto them. It slams to the ground in a cloud of smoke and sparking debris, Ahsoka ducking down and shielding her eyes as rubble erupts from the crash. As the smoke clears, Rex levels his pistols and picks off a pair of stragglers staggering out from the wreckage. "Fives?" he calls out.

"Still here," Fives groans. "Ah, that's gonna leave a mark, though."

"Rex, get him to a medevac," Anakin says, surveying the hall. Ahsoka and the clones did a number on the enemy, but a dozen members of the 501st litter the ground alongside the grey-armored Tarkinist troops. No battle comes without a cost, but it's always more than Anakin wants to pay. One of his troops is one too many. They're his men. His people. Tarkin prying them away is an insult Anakin will repay a hundred times over. He balls his fist so tightly his nails dig into his palm. You can count on that, Tarkin. You and Dooku and the Separatists and everyone who stands against me. You count on that.

"Master?" Ahsoka ventures as Rex helps Fives away, the devastated embryo hall oddly quiet after the cacophony of battle.

"Master Ti's cleaning up the enemy still inside the city," Anakin says, his mind still wire-live from the fury of the fight. "What's happening topside?"

"Captain Pellaeon's squadrons had cleared out most of the enemies on the platforms outside by the time I'd landed. The battle's finishing up based on what I can tell. Although based on the state of this place, I don't know if I'd call this a happy victory," Ahsoka says, her eyes and voice questioning as if sensing something else in Anakin, something hiding just past that battle furor. "Master Kenobi had the edge on the enemy fleet in orbit last I'd seen. He…I don't think he'll be too happy with me."

"Why?"

"He told me to stay up with the battle in space rather than flying down here to support you and the city battle."

Anakin's eye twitches. "Well, forget him. You made the right call. Tarkin's people did enough damage down here as it is. We needed every hand we could get. I don't care if Obi-Wan was too caught up in the battle plan to see that."

Ahsoka looks up at him carefully. "What is it?"

"Huh?"

"You're tense. Tenser than usual, I mean."

"I'm fine."

"You sure about that?"

Anakin grimaces. He grips his lightsaber, deactivates the blade, and stares at the dulled metal handle. "You were right back on Lola Sayu, when we were breaking Tarkin and Master Piell out of the Citadel," he says. "I shouldn't have trusted him then. I could've killed him right there during that breakout. It would've looked like an accident. Ended this whole mess before it ever began. How many troops have we lost just here in the city today to Tarkin? Hundreds? Thousands?"

"Not to mention how much damage they did to the future armies," Ahsoka says, looking around the ruined embryo hall. Her tone softens as she adds, "You didn't know who he was going to become. None of us did. Otherwise I could've punted him into a pool of lava myself."

"It was my responsibility."

"Master, you're just beating yourself up now. Stop."

Anakin sighs and shakes his head. "Guess you're right. I didn't know," he says, "but I'm not letting that happen again."

"What do you mean?"

He turns to her, his face grave. "I'm not going back to Coruscant after this."

"Then where are you going?"

"Back to Ziost. To find that Sith weapon we first got a lead on way back on Empress Teta. To do what I should've done a long time ago," Anakin says. "No invasion fleet. No army. Just me. That's what I should've done when we went to Ziost the first time. I'm not making that mistake again."

Ahsoka frowns. "It's a Dark Side weapon. Don't forget that."

"I don't care what it is."

"All I'm saying is to not lose yourself in whatever power you find. We've lost enough," Ahsoka says. "We've all lost enough."

"We're losing this war, that's what we're losing, and Tarkin's betrayal has just made it worse. We have to do something. Anything. I'm not letting another Tarkin rear his head and hurt us like this again. I'm going. You can take that to Obi-Wan."

He expects Ahsoka to argue. To plead with him to use caution, just as Obi-Wan did on Sullust. But instead she only nods solemnly, a shadow in her eyes—not darkness but fog, a cheerless cloud billowing in recognition of the damage this war is doing to them all. All this death. This devastation. It tears them apart on every level—physical, emotional, spiritual. They are each paying their price. "You do what you have to, Master."

"I will. Count on it. I'm tired of losing," he says. "And thanks."

"For what?"

"For…I don't know. Sticking with me and going along with it all. I thought you were a goner the first time we were over Ziost, but you've overcome that and more. I'm proud of who you've become, and I'm glad you're still fighting with me, even after all the hell we've gotten into," he says, placing his hand on her shoulder. He smiles. "So while we're still here, let's go finish this fight, huh?"

She nods. "Let's do it."


"Please, Count Dooku, do not misunderstand me. I realize the need for centralized power after the attack on Raxus. But to do away with the Senate entirely—"

"You realize nothing, Senator Kasi," Dooku murmurs from his private chamber on Ziost. Before him on the holomonitor sweats Okuni Kasi, the diminutive, mild-mannered senator—or former senator—from Bimmisaari. The man has given Dooku enough headaches, what with his pleading for weak-willed negotiations with the Republic and urges for caution and restraint in the war effort. How Kasi ever got a cadre of Separatist senators to follow him in a bloc is beyond Dooku—probably the dregs of the bloc left behind in the wake of Mina Bonteri's death, that damnable woman. He should've put an end to the Separatist Senate a long time ago. It never should've taken Darth Maul's surprise attack to push him to that. These pathetic, subversive fools like Kasi will have no place in his empire once he's destroyed the Republic and turned the Jedi to the Dark Side—and killed all those who refuse that power.

Kasi pretends to ignore Dooku's dismissal. "The climate is tense here on Raxus, even weeks after the attack. The public needs a reassurance that we will return to normal," the senator pleads. "The Republic's fracture is only worsening the tension."

"Worsening?" Dooku chuckles. "How would our enemy's division be anything other than a gift?"

The Bimm senator pauses before he replies. "We…the Confederacy…we are secessionists, Count. We're not conquerors. We're not imperialists. We've always wanted freedom, liberty—the choice to pursue our own path, rather than following the heavy-handed dictums from Coruscant. The public—"

"We are what we believe we are," Dooku interjects. "Belief begets reality. The Republic is reeling. Their weakness is our strength, and it is folly to even entertain the notion of diplomacy and negotiation with our enemy at a time like this. You seek freedom? Freedom is won through strength. You and the other senators will understand that once I've finished winning this war." He scowls at the shrinking senator. "When we have defeated the Republic—both sides who claim that mantle, the Jedi-aligned Republic Senate and that Tarkin and his Rim systems—I will see as to whether or not the Separatist Senate should be restored. I will see to your world then as well."

"With all due respect, Count, Bimmisaari cannot wait that long. We are suffering in the wake of our world's devastation! Food shortages are out of control; people are dying in the thousands every day—on top of those who have already died. The very atmosphere—"

"—will not crumple before the Republic does," Dooku finishes. "You and your people will survive. I will make it so. Good day, Senator Kasi."

He switches off the holoemitter before Kasi can reply. Enough with these political beasts. The Separatist Senate is no more by his hand and his word, and in history it will remain. He will not share his power with simpering animals like that.

Before he can turn in his seat, however, a pain lances his temple. He presses his fingers to his head, grimacing as a familiar voice laughs: "Do you think it will be so easy, Tyranus?"

Sidious lurks in the shadows at the back of the room. Dooku scowls at him and looks away. "I will complete what you began," he murmurs. "You only dreamed of empire. I will see it made manifest."

"You will see the Sith destroyed. You are not even a man enough to face Lord Maul again. You send your apprentices to carry out your work while you cower here," Sidious leers. "You know, don't you? You saw it. I would have destroyed you. Tossed you away in favor of Lord Vader. And I would have been right to do so. You cannot rule an empire. You cannot even rule over your meek senators. Even as you imagine that you have never been stronger, the walls are closing in on you. You will not open your eyes until it is far too late."

Dooku clenches his eyes shut and hisses: "We shall see."

"Yes," Sidious cackles, "we shall."

When Dooku turns around, Sidious is gone. Just a vision. Yet his laughter rings in Dooku's ears.

No. No. Do not listen. Sidious is a thing of the past. A Sith Lord who had his place and his time but was not strong enough, not clever enough to withstand Dooku. He will show Sidious. He will show Maul. The Dark Side is his. An empire will be his. But only if he takes advantage of his strength and utilizes his power. Enough games. Enough scheming and maneuvering; the Republic's fracture means that Dooku needs to make his move now.

He switches his Holonet transceiver to his private channel. The Separatist Council is meeting now on Muunilinst, all those corporate dogs and moneyed leeches. But unlike those yowling senators like Kasi, Gunray and his corporate cronies still have their uses.

The Council blurs to life on the Holoemitter, and Gunray is front and center before them all. "My Lord," he says, bowing deeply. Disgusting sycophant. As if Dooku cannot see who the Nemoidian is beneath that feigned obedience. How easily Gunray forgot about Sidious; one lord is another to a coward like him. "This is a most unexpected transmission."

"I have need of you, Viceroy. All of you," Dooku says, looking about at the Council. Banking Clan. Commerce Guild. Corporate Alliance. He will stamp them all out with the Senate in time. But not yet. Not yet. "The Republic is in tatters. We are now the strongest force in the galaxy, and it is time we realized that. It is time we went from managing this war to winning it. The time has come to begin the final destruction of our foes."

"A bold move, Count Dooku," Shu Mai, president of the Commerce Guild, says. Bold. Getting out of bed in the morning is bold for a worm like her. "What is your plan?"

"I need you all to gather every civilian ship in your fleets that is not of essential use," Dooku says. "Every surplus transport, freighter, tanker, and hauler. Every last one. And do so quickly." He takes a breath. "Very soon I will put them to much better use."


The smell of burnt flesh. That ear-knifing sizzle. Everyone else on the bridge of the Providence-class Separatist command ship is silent as Taron Malicos draws his lightsaber out of the cooling body of the big Hutt. "Ah," Malicos says as he sheathes his blade and kicks the Hutt's corpse. "Just a fat slug after all."

Sae doesn't budge. "Finished?"

"You're ruining the moment," Malicos says, jabbing his finger at her. Then he points down to the Hutt's body. "Gorgosa the Hutt. Patriarch of the Anjiliac Hutt clan, ally of Maul, blah, blah. Dead slug. You think this is what he had in mind when he allied with that fool?"

No, Sae thinks, probably not. Gorgosa would've remained beneath their notice if not for a tip from Jabba the Hutt shortly after the attack on Raxus. Hutt loyalties so easily shifting: Jabba had opened Hutt borders to the Republic just after the start of the war, yet now he was happy to pass information on to the Separatists if it meant disposing of a rival like Gorgosa. One hand opened to one side, another to the other.

Yet even Jabba probably had no idea what the Separatist response to that information would be. Now it's all around the bridge of the battlecruiser, out there in space past the transparisteel viewscreen: Dozens of ships in tatters, broken and beaten, light transports and personal freighters and modified fighters, even Hutt cruisers that once defended Nal Hutta, all of it comprising the former Huttese defense fleet that had risen to counter Malicos and Sae's armada above Nar Shaddaa. How quickly they had fallen.

How many lives had been tossed aside just to get their hands on one Hutt lord rotting away on the Smuggler's Moon? The city-encased world looms out there in the black beyond the shattered fleet, a million-million lights illuminating the ecumenopolis's dark side in the criminal night. Sae prowled through the streets of this moon for days and months during her time as a Jedi. She'd taken Tamri here more than anywhere else. Now she arrives as a conqueror, an invader to a place that was almost as much a home to her as the Jedi Temple was. She knew—probably still knows, given the survival instincts of the galaxy's scum—hundreds of people down there on the city-world. Doubtless none of them would recognize her now. "Congratulations. Got him. You're the big hero," she spits at Malicos as he looms over Gorgosa's corpse. She turns towards the bridge's fore, and the super tactical droid commanding the crew. "Kalani? Get us out of here. We got what we came for."

"Affirmative," General Kalani says.

"No," Malicos interjects, whirling about. "We're here to send a message to these Hutt scum."

"We did send a message, you dolt," Sae says, pointing to Gorgosa's body. "You hauled his slug ass up here to the bridge just to send a message rather than just killing him in his palace."

"One Hutt. How many more are down there?"

"On Nar Shaddaa? Maybe a dozen or less. They're all on Nal Hutta. You'd know that if you listened to what I said when we started out on this trip," says Sae. "Besides, they're not Maul's allies. Just the Anjiliac and their client houses are with him. I told you we should've gone to Sleheyron rather than here. All we're doing now is just pissing more Hutt clans off. Keep it up and even Jabba's going to side with Maul."

Malicos shakes his head and paces back and forth before Gorgosa's body. "No. This is their hub. Billions of scum down there who chose poorly," he says.

"They didn't choose anything. They don't even know we exist."

"Why are you defending them?" Malicos says. He steps up to Sae until their faces are a foot apart, his breath hot and fetid. Sae leans back in disgust and Malicos laughs. "I know you despise me."

"Very observant. Next you'll tell me the current year."

He laughs. "You and I…we got off on the wrong foot," he says, clapping Sae's shoulder. She swats his hand away. "But really, isn't it a long time to hold a grudge? Does it really still bother you? What happened at that asteroid base? What with what happened to that girl of yours. Tamri, right?"

"Piss off."

"Ah, I got it right. Shame she's—" he pauses and smiles— "gone. But you have Pella now. She's a fine replacement, isn't she? Such a lively girl."

Sae waves him away. "Dooku wants me to cooperate with you. My lightsaber might have other ideas, though. It's got a mind of its own. Keep talking and we'll see what happens."

"Funny. Very funny. Hysterical, even," he says. He smiles and steps back. "But Dooku's right. After all, I know things you don't. Happy little secrets. Can't go killing each other without you knowing those, can you?"

Sae shrugs. "What, are you going to reveal you had a fling with Jabba, or something?"

"Oh, if only you knew. You make for good fun though, so rest assured, we're on the same team, Sae," he chuckles, sliding past her. "Wonder if Pella knows? Shame you didn't bring her."

"Dooku needed her for something else. And wonder if she knows what, exactly?"

He ignores her and signals Kalani. "Droid? Target Nar Shaddaa. Indiscriminate bombardment, all ships still combat capable after that battle."

"Wait, what?" Sae says, Malicos's taunting suddenly gone from her thoughts. "No, no, Kalani, belay that. We killed Maul's ally. We did what we came here for. If you want to glass a world, then let's jump out to Sleheyron and bombard something that's actually against us."

"Sleheyron is a volcanic dump. Nar Shaddaa is right here. And everyone down there is going to send a message to anyone else who would fight against us," Malicos says. "Restraint's only going to embolden them, Sae. Fear's what'll keep the scum in line."

"You have no idea what drives these people. There's tens of billions of people on Nar Shaddaa. How many more enemies do you want to make?"

He grins. "As many as it takes. Droid: Fire."

This time Sae does not countermand him. She wants to: This is all wrong. One Hutt and his goons does not a planet make, especially not a place as diverse and chaotic as Nar Shaddaa. But there's a strange little voice speaking in her head now, and it says: He's making a mistake. Let him.

He's her ally. She should put a stop to this before he does something stupid. Dooku gave you orders to eliminate the Anjiliac in response to Maul's attack, and you've killed Gorgosa. Mission accomplished. Order Kalani to go home before Malicos makes trouble for everyone.

He shot at Tamri at the Brood base.

She's with the Dark Side now. So is he. Think rationally for a moment, damn it. You follow Dooku. You've been sane enough this whole time not to stab Malicos in his sleep. Are you just going to let him savage a whole world and make even more enemies just out of spite? Just so you can see him knocked down a peg? Is that worth turning all of Hutt Space—and who knows who else—against the Separatists?

He's responsible for her death.

You're a damn Sith now, does it matter? And there's billions of people down there, don't they matter?

He killed her. He KILLED HER.

She steps back. Kalani gives the order. And the Separatist fleet rains down laser fire on Nar Shaddaa.

Let him make his mistake. Let him suffer for it. And for everything else.

And because there is some small, dark, warped part of her that is going to enjoy the fallout after she's told Dooku what Malicos has done. In truth, she knows why she hasn't murdered Malicos to avenge Tamri's death. Death would be too merciful. Little by little, she's learning to enjoy the suffering.


We'll go wherever you want. Just the two of us. Leave this war behind.

Sae told Tamri that on Mirial, right before everything went wrong. Is this what she meant? A trip to some sun-kissed world in the middle of nowhere, with neither battle droids nor clone troopers in sight? Tamri sighs and leans over the platform viewing railing, staring at the glistening sea that stretches unbroken to the horizon, gold-glittering blue forever. It's peaceful here on Manaan, despite the eventful welcome party on the edge of the system. No one else has stood in their way. No one kept them from landing in Ahto City, the lone major surface dwelling on this water world, over a hundred square kilometers of civilization in a great, shell-shaped metal island floating atop the sea. Peaceful. Serene. Paradisical, almost. But the memories eat away at Tamri's heart as she looks to the sun's reflection off of the water. It could've been Sae with her now. The two of them together still. None of this forbidden, heart-rending knowledge tearing at her.

Beside her, Korkie leans over and bumps her shoulder. "Why the long face? We haven't died yet."

"No. Not yet," Tamri murmurs.

"Okay. What's wrong?" Korkie says. His serious air has all but faded since leaving Mandalore. It's as if liberating his home has taken the edge off of the boy, given him a carefree side that Tamri likes. If only she could share that feeling after what Master Kenobi told her. "I(s it what happened with those two Republic ships?"

"No. I don't know what that was, and it doesn't matter. No one else has bothered us."

"Then…"

"It's nothing."

Korkie throws up his hands. "Great. Sure."

Tamri rests her chin on her arms. She should tell him about Sae. Some part of her wants to. He let her into his life, after all—Bo-Katan, Ursa Wren, all those other Mandalorians he knew by name. He has a right to hear her story out after she learned every line of his. Yet still she holds back. It's as if Sae won't have fallen to the Dark Side if Tamri doesn't tell anyone. As if that unholy secret will ensure it never materializes before her. It's—she hates to admit it—fear. She is afraid. Not because of what Sae has done, but because Tamri can't bear to imagine what will happen if she and her fallen master ever meet again.

Can she do it? Can she?

"Tamri?"

She pushes away Korkie's hand. "I don't feel good," she mutters as she leans over the railing. "Can I just be alone for a minute, please?"

Immediately she regrets it. Hurt in his eyes. Just a smidgen, but she can't ignore it. You fool. You'll push everyone away. It was hurt that destroyed Sae, so Master Kenobi said. It's hurt that will do you in too, if you let it. "Okay," Korkie says, drawing back with his hands wide in an inoffensive pose. "I'll, uh, go catch up with Kesh and the others."

Once he's gone, she huffs and turns away from the sea, back towards the visitor center entrance above Ahto City's main hanger array. Gleaming silver metal everywhere. Tasteful, stately accoutrements. Glistening fountains under the cloudless sky. She's a storm cloud in the midst of it all, raining on everyone's sunny day.

He doesn't deserve it, Korkie. None of them do. They've supported her this far, and it's up to her to be their rock. She's the Jedi, after all. Shape up, Tam. Go find them, cheer up, and maybe even try smiling. It won't kill you.

Kesh and the others—minus Korkie—set off for the commercial district an hour ago once they landed in Ahto City, determined to get an idea of where a hidden Tath base might be found. Not here, Tamri thinks as she heads through the visitor center and into the city proper. Hardly even a spot of dirt to be found around the main hanger complex, the walls shined and washed, the air cleansed and the fouler smells of the sea filtered out. Almost as if whoever manages the lone major surface settlement wants visitors to believe Manaan is some sort of paradise world.

Strange, though: Avea called Manaan a "shithole" back on Telos, the kind of place everyone wants to leave, as if this world was indistinguishable from Nar Shaddaa. There is nothing disgusting about anything Tamri has seen. But a thought tugs at her: There is something else she hasn't seen in her short time here so far. Manaan is the homeworld of the Selkath, yet outside of Kesh, she hasn't seen another member of the species here at all. Just humans and Twi'lek and Nikto and all the usual spaceborne races of any major spaceport around the galaxy. So where are all the natives?

She finds her answer as she leaves the tourist quarters and heads into the commercial wards. Even with the crowds here the city still sparkles, alive and alight with wealth and contentment. But as Tamri passes by a retail outlet—Prizes of the Core, a cheap trinket-selling establishment crewed by a Weequay probably oblivious to the fact that Manaan's place in the Inner Rim makes it as much of a Core World as Myrkr—she peers down an alley and spots a pair of watery eyes staring back at her. A green-skinned Selkath child, not even as tall as her shoulder and clutching a metal ball of some sort, waving at her and beckoning her approach. Either an orphan or a scam, Tamri thinks. She's seen far too many kids used for income by the galactic underbelly after all those trips into the filthy parts of the galaxy with Sae.

Still, curiosity pulls her into the alley, even as her hand brushes her lightsaber on her belt. The Selkath child says not a word, merely clutching the metal ball with both hands and backing up as Tamri approaches. The child darts behind a wall and watches, huge eyes never leaving Tamri's face. "Hello," Tamri says with her best attempt at a friendly voice. "Are you hungry? It's okay."

She passes behind the wall, glances over her shoulder at the alley behind her—and jerks back as the child grabs her wrist. She reaches for her lightsaber, but the child presses the metal ball into her hand and hisses, "Isard sends his regards."

Then he is gone, running down the alley and away from her as Tamri stares at the ball. It's not a ball at all, but a mobile communicator linked to the Holonet by remote connection. Advanced tech. Shit. An hour on Manaan and already the galaxy has caught up to her.

She takes a deep breath and rolls the ball along the ground. It stretches out a trio of legs, rights itself, then extends a holoemitter dish. In another moment a blur of blue light flashes to life and the holographic image of Armand Isard, seated and complete with an iced drink in his hand, rises before her. He takes a sip, bows his head, and says, "Miss Dallin. I trust you are alone."

She looks over her shoulder once more. No one listening. "What do you want?"

"I believe the better question is what you want, but no one has that answer," Isard says. He sits down his drink off of the holocam, straightens up in his seat, and continues: "How are you enjoying the trappings of Ahto City?"

"I'd like it a lot more if I knew why two Republic ships opened fire on me on the outskirts of the system. And where all the Selkath are," she says. "I'd also love to know how you've already found me."

"It's my job to be informed. I'd be a poor director of the Senate Bureau if I didn't know these things," he says. "Your job is to the answer the second question. And I'll help by answering the first."

"All ears. Enlighten me."

Isard presses his fingertips together and leans forward. "As the lone major surface settlement on Manaan, Ahto City effectively controls the planet on the galactic stage," he says. "Its governor, a Twi'lek named Carhai Bonamma, has thrown in his lot with Wilhuff Tarkin. I imagine if you signaled his ships with a standard Republic code, they took you as an enemy."

Tamri holds up her hand to stop him. "Sided with who?"

Isard smiles. "You've missed a lot, it seems."

"Yeah, great. Why don't you get me caught up?"

"I'll keep it short to save us both time: A bomb killed off most of the Senate. The new supreme chancellor, Bail Organa of Alderaan, blames a faction led by a former military officer named Wilhuff Tarkin. The Grand Admiral of the fleet, if you know that much. Tarkin blames the Jedi for the attack, as evidenced by the lightsaber-aided assassination of former Vice Chair Mas Amedda. Effectively, the Republic has split into a state of civil war, with a number of Rim systems aligning with Tarkin and his allies against the Jedi, Organa, and their allies in the Core and Expansion Region. You're in Republic space, Tamri, but that doesn't make it friendly."

Tamri blinks. "Excuse me?"

"I thought you might have missed the recent comings and goings."

Tamri opens her mouth to speak, but the words don't come. What in the world? "It, uh," she starts. "I…should I even be here?"

"The Separatists are no worry for now, if you're concerned. They've been rather quiet after a terrorist attack that hit their Senate on Raxus, as well," Isard says. "Our intel suggests they're regrouping. Meanwhile, earlier today a force led by Obi-Wan Kenobi and Agen Kolar won a victory over Tarkin's forces at Kamino. If Baron Bonamma of Ahto City is indeed allied with the Tarkinists, it's them you need to worry about—and you're in exactly the right place to figure that out."

"I'm sorry, I just need a minute. That was a lot."

"You don't have a minute. The war is worsening with every moment," Isard says. He takes a drink and lets out a long exhale. "My agents have identified a number of heavy freighters moving some sort of cargo in recent weeks away from Manaan. I have no idea as to what they're moving, but their destinations are all tracked into the Outer Rim—and there they disappear. Each freighter has had at last tangential registration with Baron Bonamma, so Ahto City's governor should know more. I do have some theories. Tarkin's forces control Thyferra, and thus have a stranglehold on bacta. Manaan is the sole source of another medical wonder-drug, kolto, which bacta replaced thousands of years ago, leaving Manaan to wither away over the centuries. But with Thyferra behind Tarkin's borders, Manaan suddenly is a much more interesting world for a Republic—our Republic—that will need medical supplies as the war rages on."

Tamri takes a breath, if only to get her bearings. It's a lot to take in as Isard pours it on. What has happened to the galaxy since she left Mandalore? "I'm sorry, but I have a mission of my own," she says. "There's a Tath base here somewhere—"

"—which may be connected. Given the intelligence you reported from Concordia regarding the Killiks—and after the battle at Kamino, where Killiks engaged our clone forces—Hosha Tath is a confirmed ally of Tarkin. You help me and you help yourself, whatever you're after."

There it is. Somehow Isard is always a step ahead. It's as if he's already counted on her support—and for some reason she can't explain, she goes along with it. "It sounds like you already have the plan, so give it to me."

"The Selkath have, throughout the history of Manaan, jealously guarded the secrets of kolto. As you noted, they don't seem to have any presence on Ahto City these days. One man is tying everything together—Baron Bonamma. He controls Ahto City, he threw Manaanm's allegiance in with Tarkin, and he will know what you and I need. If anyone knows where a secret Tath base is hidden—and whatever secrets that base might hide—it's him," says Isard.

"And he's just going to spill all that? Sure."

"Of course not. Not blatantly. But luckily for you, I've done the hard work," Isard says. "Bonamma is a man of wealth and privilege. He throws frequent, lavish parties at his estate on an artificial isle anchored to Ahto City's northern end. I've arranged you an in, and secured you a cover that should get you close enough to the baron where you can do the rest. I'll send a file to your ship with the details. Attend this party of his. Make his acquaintance. Figure out a way to pry his secrets from him. I've done the planning. The execution is up to you."

Tamri groans. "I'm not really a party person. I went to one on Kuat, and it was…uncomfortable."

"My condolences. I'm sure the second time will be the charm," Isard says without a hint of a sympathy. "I look forward to your success."

"Oh, I'm so glad I've already agreed to this," Tamri says. "You follow me from Mandalore, apparently, all the way here to the point where you know I'm on Manaan within an hour of landing. Why do you do this?"

"I beg your pardon? It's my job."

"Yeah, and I bet you have more interesting people to follow than little ol' me," says Tamri.

Isard lowers his chin until shadows droop over his eyes. "You're in the right place at the right time, and you've proven you can get things done. That's all that matters to me," he says. "The Republic has stood for more than a thousand years in its current form. I don't intend to see it fall on my watch."

"You're just one man. It's not really 'your watch'."

"That's your opinion. Good luck, Tamri."

He is gone before she can reply. Wonderful. An hour on Manaan and she's already running off to the next problem. So much for paradise.