Swamp Land
(1 ABY)
She was angry, really angry. And, for once, it was not a feeling she had gathered through the Force from her master or anybody else.
But the situation certainly justified her aggravation, although it was her own fault.
Half a year had passed since the events on Aridus…
The stars turned to streeks of light and were quickly replaced by the weirdness of hyperspace. Serina turned over the controls of her sleek vessel to Jix and returned to the common room to check on her master. She knelt beside his prone figure and checked the indicator button of the respiratory control unit. It had returned to its usual steady red: the oxygen level inside his mask had reached normal parameters. But why was he still unconscious?
She placed her hand on his upper arm and gently nudged him while reaching with her mind for him through the Force. His presence felt like restless undulations in an otherwise calm lake, foreshadowing a powerful presence rising from below the surface. At her mental touch, the ripples exploded into a consuming fire, as he finally regained consciousness.
Serina withdrew with a start, but her mind caught a glimpse of the nightmare that had held her master captive since the destruction of the Iron Tower. His mind had returned to a lava-covered planet and the still form of a pregnant young woman, crumbled to an unconscious heap where his force-choke had released her. But the memory was quickly pushed aside as he jerked to a sitting position. Shaking his head several times to clear the lingering effects of the explosion, he struggled to his feet.
Serina was careful to refrain from assisting him. Sith Lords didn't need anybody's help. It would be a sign of weakness. And weakness ranked fairly high on her master's list of loathing. After a quick assessment of the condition of his armored suit, Vader strode toward the cockpit.
Anybody besides Serina would have assumed that the explosion had left him unharmed except for some bruises and several tears in his body armor. But the young woman knew better. Her own abilities had taught her to look behind the façade a long time ago. After Mustafar, Vader had learned to thrive on pain, drawing strength through it from the Force. And right now, he was in serious pain. His body had been damaged severely and would require some lengthy attention at the EmPal SuRecon Center. But he would never allow that kind of weakness to show, not even if she had been the only person on board.
If he was surprised to find the scruffy former Imperial officer at the controls of her sleek vessel, he didn't show it. "He has been essential in rescuing you from the crumbled tower," Serina commented as she slipped past him and relieved Jix. "If I hadn't arrived just a moment before he pulled you out of the rubble, he would have done so all by himself."
Vader motioned the former gunnery sergeant to settle down in the copilot chair and took up position in the front of the entrance behind them. During the minutes that followed, he had Serina give him a full account of the events since the destruction of what had been intended as a trap for young Skywalker. Finally, the young woman finished her report and, for long moments, the only sound to perturb the silence that ensued was Vader's machine-controlled breathing. "So, he escaped again," he commented at last.
"Yes, master, I caught a glimpse of him on my sensor display as he passed me on an outbound vector," Serina confirmed. Another long moment of silence passed before she added, "The actor is dead. Jix found him while digging through the rubble." And had he not removed most of the debris before I got there, I might have come too late, she projected her thoughts toward the Sith Lord behind her. It was a fact Jix probably hadn't realized and her master would certainly not appreciate her mentioning it out loud. He is really good at what he is doing. He might prove an eminently suitable addition to your cadre of agents, she suggested in the same fashion.
…Of course, Vader had remembered the man from the events on Falleen. But he had also recalled the reason for his court-martial and banishment to Kessel. During Serina's recollection of the events on Aridus, Jix's attachment to the local Chubbits had become obvious by his emotions surfacing every time the natives' involvement had been mentioned.
When the former gunnery sergeant had offered him his eternal servitude in exchange for a promise to have the Empire leave Aridus and its inhabitants alone, Vader had first feigned disinterest. But not for long. Even before they had to drop back to realspace for their first orientation stop, he had agreed to Jix's proposal.
For the first week after their arrival at Imperial Center, Jix had stayed at the castle. Then he had moved into his own place, always ready for action should the Sith Lord call upon his services. In the five months that had passed since that day, their paths had crossed repeatedly and, Serina was certain, would do so again in the years to come. And Vader had certainly kept both of them fairly busy during the weeks it took him to recuperate from his injuries.
Checking out hints from all over the galaxy as to the whereabouts of the rebel fleet, following up alleged sightings of infamous members of the Alliance, foremost Luke Skywalker, and taking a close look at any location that might have been turned into the rebels' new headquarters: while Serina had reserved only the most promising of those actions for herself, she still had her work cut out coordinating the efforts of the Imperial fleet and of Vader's cadre of agents to do the rest.
Month after month had passed and the results had been sobering, to say the least: they had uncovered minor rebel enclaves, engaged in smaller skirmishes with parts of the Alliance fleet, and had been able to confirm that some of the sightings had truly been accurate. Once, Serina had even caught a glimpse of Leia Organa, but before she could even concoct a plan to apprehend her, the former senator had disappeared without a trace. Not that Serina had been much disappointed by her lack of success, but she had taken great care to not betray that attitude to her master.
Finally, it had become obvious that this approach was far from well-suited to produce the desired results and they had considered possible alternatives…
"Sixela, Jabiim, Keskin, Foundry, Ahakista," Serina used the miniature-sized laser pointer to highlight each system and planet in the holographic star map displayed above their heads. "Southside Outer Rim, Colonies, Wild Space. The rebels are everywhere and nowhere at the same time. I cannot find any kind of pattern to their movements and locations. And these are only the major engagements. If we add the sightings," - she tapped her console and system after system lit up in dull red - "the smaller skirmishes," - another tap colored even more systems in a dull blue hue – "and the supposed or potential locations of rebel outposts or bases," – the third tap added even more highlighted systems, this time in a burnished yellow, until the whole map was turned into the painting of a surreal artist who had splattered his canvas randomly with all the colors in his paintbox – "we might be able to exclude some systems," – there remained several spots where not even a single system in a whole sector had been marked – "but the question remains as to how long that will hold true and, even without those areas, there are still far more systems than we can cover reasonably in the next few months."
Serina allowed her words and the chaotic non-pattern to sink in for several silent moments before she continued with her presentation. "We have managed to track some of their ships through homing beacons and have observed their movements. The ships joined up with other parts of their fleet, stayed together for some hours, and then broke up again. Sometimes, they exchanged goods and personnel, oftentimes they didn't. Those that had arrived together hardly ever left together. Grouping and regrouping, always different locations, always different ships, always different exit vectors. Local groups that we managed to apprehend alive never had any useful information about other groups in their sector, and much less about anything farther away. We managed to plant some sleeper agents, but it is still too early to activate any of them. You all had this information before the meeting, and it was your task to come up with working suggestions for how to proceed."
She let her gaze wander across the room. There they were: the best strategic minds the Empire had engendered. Military commanders with the most victories in battle, pure theoreticians with the best references, stormtrooper officers that had survived the most demanding actions, and some of Vader's best agents, including a former drill instructor with a passion for the natives of far-away Aridus. If anyone would come up with a strategy that had a reasonable chance of success, it had to be them. Her gaze came to rest on an older man with the markings of a sector admiral. "Admiral Vorak, present your suggestions."
…Vader had followed the ensuing discussion from his chamber. Suggestion after suggestion had been presented, some had been rejected right out of hand, others had been reserved for further evaluation. Soon two major strategies had emerged. Neither of them a short-term solution: both had involved a longer period of planning and some difficult measures of preparation, but both had been rated with at least a reasonable chance of success.
After more than twenty hours of scheming, Serina had released the men to return to their regular stations of duty. Then she had presented the results to her master. But he had already been several steps ahead of her as usual. "I will set up the threefold trap. You will implement the infiltration. And I know of somebody who will help you accomplish just that. If you can locate him."
A few days later, she had left Imperial Center to meet up with Vader's contact in the smugglers' scene, the head of one of the best smuggling networks ever established in recent history: Jorj Car'das. Little had she realized at that time, that it was a task impossible to complete. But she was about to find out the hard way, just a few short hours after arriving at the smugglers' major base, the Tansarii Point Station…
The Star Maiden was a luxury liner that had passed its zenith of usefulness at least fifty years prior. Once the favorite of the downright indecent rich, equipped with the latest and fanciest amenities and gadgets at the time of its launch, it had become outdated and outflanked by larger cruisers that provided even more spacious cabins, continually changing diversions that always were the flavor of the month, and comforts based on the newest technological developments.
High prized exclusivity had given way to middle-class comfort. The rooms were smaller now, there was still a large variety of activities offered, but far less than half a century prior, and whoever took a closer look realized quickly that the last few decades had passed without a single credit being invested in bringing any of the technical equipment up to date. The ship was still well kept and reliable, but the trips it offered now were shorter and no longer made port calls at the most upscale resorts of the galaxy.
Whereas in former times it would have taken an average government employee half a lifetime to earn his passage for a trip to the Outer Rim and back, the fares had now been reduced to a standard yearly income. Thus, most of the passengers were members of the upper-middle-class with important positions in local governments, owners of midsized companies, and even some officers of the Imperial Navy.
Serina had chartered a single cabin – not one of the cheapest ones, but not too opulent either. After all, blending in had the highest priority during this trip. So far, the trip had been quite uneventful, if one didn't count the various stops to view what the tour company had touted as must-sees. After their departure from Imperial Center, they had visited the Dawn Pyramid on Aargau, the Alsakan Mosaics, the Brass Soldiers on Axum, the Shawken Spire, and finally the Cathedral of Winds on Vortex. Now they were heading toward Ord Mantell for resupplying before cutting back to the Perlemian Trade Route. The second month of the trip would be spent in the Outer Rim Territories visiting the Tract of Makem Te, the Forbidden Gardens on Nuswatta, and several more of the so-called Wonders of the Galaxy.
But Serina would be spared that part of the cruise. Once the Star Maiden arrived at the Tansarii Point Station, she would make contact – hopefully directly – with Jori Car'das. With her background story and the well-concealed orders directly from the Emperor, the man would have no choice but to aid her in the mission she had been charged with.
Early the next morning, the luxury liner prepared to settle down in the main docking bay located in a horizontal central hub between two towering struts. Serina repacked her small suitcase and joined a group of passengers waiting for debarking. Half an hour later, she had settled into her temporary quarters close to the recreational facilities of the station.
The cruise schedule allotted a whole week for a large variety of activities, mainly hunting and mountain climbing trips to Ord Mantell, but also visits to the various casinos located throughout the Bright Jewel system, while the ship was going to be restocked.
Serina had no intention of using any of the diversions offered, but their tour company had strongly impressed upon them to restrict their activities on the station to the official visitor's section. Apparently, there had been some serious conflicts with station personnel in the past. To ensure that all passengers abode by the regulations they had developed a habit of calling on each one of them at irregular times. It was a habit that would seriously threaten Serina's undertaking.
Therefore, to attract no undue attention, she had signed up for one of the most extensive tours offered. The respective shuttle would depart later that same day and, while the records would report her off-station, she would have two days to contact the head of the Car'das.
She was one of the first passengers to check-in for the excursion. The shuttle was an ungainly vessel that rested on six stumpy struts in the smaller of the two shuttle bays. A short, rounded snout with the cockpit and quarters for the command crew was joined to a middle section that looked like a huge ball with its lower third cut off. Attached to that was a block-shaped rear portion containing the engines and cargo holds on the bottom, crew quarters in the middle, and, on the upper level, small cabins for the passengers.
A wide automatic ramp led up between the two massive propulsion units at the rear into the crew section of the shuttle. At the foot of the ramp, the tour company had set up a registration desk. While the young man behind it checked her ID against his records, Serina allowed her gaze to roam about the activities below the middle section of the vessel. A large cargo lift was continuously in action to transport supplies into the belly of the ship. Barrels and crates were moved from hoversleds to the lift by droids. No human or other lifeform overseeing the loading was in view from where she stood.
"Here you go," the tour guide addressed her. After handing her ID back to her, he also gave her a small hand-sized datapad displaying the various attractions visited during the tour. "Your preselection is already marked. If you change your mind just let us know. Please return the pad when we return to the station. Enjoy your trip." With a wide smile, he motioned her toward the ramp and turned to the next person in line.
A young woman dressed in the same outfit as the young man waited for her inside the ship behind another desk.
"Good morning," she greeted Serina. After checking her display, she added, "We have reserved the cabin next to the lounge as requested. Please follow me."
She led her up another smaller ramp to the cabins on the upper level. Doors lined both sides of a short corridor. At the far end, transparent sliding doors granted a view into the common room located on the third level of the ball-shaped middle section.
"Your datapad with also function as the key to your cabin. If you need anything, please let us know. Dinner will be served right after departure. If you do not want to use the common room, just have it delivered to your cabin. Enjoy your stay." Another friendly nod, then the guide turned to hurry back to the hatch to greet the next passenger.
Serina held her datapad to the control panel beside the cabin door. Moments later the door slid aside to reveal a small room furnished with a bed, an undersized desk and chair, and an even smaller refresher unit next to the entrance. A round porthole above the head of the bed granted a view down into the shuttle bay.
She dropped her bag on the bed and opened it. Then she quickly removed the gaudy apparel donned for the trip she had never intended to take and replaced it with a typical dark-colored worker's outfit used by the station personnel. The proper bright orange vest identifying her as part of the maintenance crew would be added once she had managed to leave the ship. When she had discarded all unnecessary items down the garbage chute including the larger travel bag, she clipped the small pouch containing diverse tools and the orange vest to her belt and opened the door a tiny crack, just enough to hear what was going on in the corridor beyond.
"…will be served right after departure. If you do not want to use the common room, just have it delivered to your cabin. Enjoy your stay."
Shortly after, a door slid open. Steps retreated down the ramp to the middle deck. Then the door closed again with a low slurping sound. In the far distance, the voice of the young guide could be heard greeting the next passengers.
Serina slipped out of the room quietly and sealed the door behind her. Then she turned toward the common room. The transparent doors slid open at her approach. A large, circular lounge greeted her. Tables with chairs and couch groups lined the outside bulkhead below large viewing ports. A synthwood counter curved around the central service station with barstools in front of it. Right across from her a door led inside the service area. According to the construction plans she had studied, the winding staircase inside should grant her access to the lower decks.
She quickly hurried forward as the sound of steps heralded the approach of the guide with the next passenger. Then the transparent doors resealed behind her cutting off all sounds from the corridor.
The staircase was as deserted as the common room had been. She hurried down past the exit on the crew deck. Behind it, a loud voice could be heard, most likely the head cook giving orders in the kitchen area. Obviously, they were busy preparing dinner for their guests.
Then she was at the bottom of the stairwell. The exit had opened at her approach. For a long moment, she remained inside and gazed at the chaos beyond. Crates and barrels of all sizes were stacked haphazardly across the space in front of her. Two droids were busy scanning the containers for their contents and transporting them toward the cargo holds. Another droid added to the chaos that arrived via the cargo lift located to the left of the service area.
Then the lift platform was finally empty, and the droid joined the other two in processing the containers. Moments later, all three of them were on their way to the cargo holds. Serina slipped from the stairwell and turned toward the cargo lift. The platform had been lowered to the ground below. A quick glance over the edge of the opening confirmed that the droids below were already busy placing the next charge of containers on the platform. As she had already noticed earlier, no human or other lifeform was in sight.
Serina lowered herself over the edge and straddled one of the support struts of the lift. When the droids turned away from the platform toward the hoversleds, she quickly slid down the metal tube and darted toward the foremost right-sided landing strut. In its shadow, she pulled the orange vest from her pouch and slipped into it. After a last glance in the direction of the other end of the vessel a good fifty meters away and the row of passengers nearly hidden behind the cargo lift and the automatic ramp, she straightened up and made her way with purposeful strides toward the far side of the shuttle bay.
An hour later, the chance she had been waiting for finally arrived. Slinging a brown, lubricant-stained bag containing an assortment of small replacement parts over her shoulder, she stepped out of the maintenance alcove into the main corridor leading deeper into the station. About 100 feet ahead of her, heavy blast doors were blocking her way. To open them would either require the appropriate keycard - which she did not have - or a hatchcracker - which she did have.
But to use the latter, she would need to work undisturbed and unobserved which was both highly unlikely. A place the size of the Tansarii Point Station only functioned with a sophisticated internal observation system. She had avoided attention so far. Nobody took extra notice of a maintenance worker carrying out his or her assignment. It would be stupid to change that by trying to crack a safety panel.
With purposeful strides, she approached the doors. Then she stopped, digging into her pockets. Suddenly, the blast doors swung open, causing her to take a quick step backward. A middle-aged man dressed in dark-gray pants, a faded-green shirt, and a black vest - typical outfit favored by free traders and many freelancers - strode through. He didn't spare her more than a dismissive glance as he walked past her. Quickly, she hurried through the open entrance before the blast doors slammed shut behind her.
The stop in the maintenance alcove had not only provided her with the bag of replacement parts but also with a chance to confirm the layout of the non-public part of the station that she had committed to memory in preparation for her assignment. She pulled the datapad that she had transferred the information to out of the bag and called up the location of the station master's office. Then she headed toward the nearest turbo lift.
Nobody stopped her as she approached the end of a short corridor several levels above the shuttle bays. From what she had gathered from the building plans, the rooms ahead of her had to be rather large, containing not only the office but also the living quarters of whoever was in charge of the station.
Serina hesitated for a moment in front of the entrance. What would she do if the station master wasn't there? Before she could take any further action, a door at the other end of the corridor swooshed open and footfalls approached from behind.
"Whom are you looking for?" a female voice demanded.
She turned around and found herself face to face with a tall, tan-colored Twi'lek. "I'm here to see Jorj Car'das," Serina replied, careful to assume a look of insecurity. "I was told that he is in charge of this station and that this is his office."
The other woman gave a short, harsh laugh. "I don't know who told you that or how you managed to get up here. But to meet Jorj you're about a year too late!"
Serina didn't have to play-act the confusion. "Eh, but, eh, where is he then? Where can I find him? I really need to talk to him!"
"Hmm," the Twi'lek scrutinized her for a few more seconds. Then she reached past her and touched the pad behind her. The door slid aside with a soft swooshing sound. "Why don't you come in and tell me what you need to talk to him about."
Gladly, Serina followed the invitation but she doubted that the Twi'lek woman would have left her any choice but to accept.
The office was as spacious as she had expected from the building plans. Large viewports covered the curved outside wall, granting an impressive view of the main levels of the space station below including the entry corridor for approaching vessels. A huge desk was set in front of them catty-corner from the entrance to the right. Also to the right and around a corner, a small sitting arrangement invited comfortable chatting. To the left of the entrance, another door led into the living quarters. Along the inside wall next to the couch and chairs, a sideboard and several rows of shelves sported a large variety of nick-nacks, from undefinable electronic devices to rocks of all sizes and colors and even some twisted objects that appeared to be of organic origin.
The Twi'lek motioned to Serina to take a seat in one of the chairs in front of the desk. Then she settled down behind it. "I'm Inaldra," she introduced herself, "and for right now, I'm in charge of this station. And you are?"
"My name is Sera Walker."
"And…?" The expression on Inaldra's face acquired a hint of impatience.
"I got here this morning with the Star Maiden."
"What happened? You don't look like a tourist right now. Where did you get the outfit and how did you get up here?" The hint of impatience grew more pronounced.
"That's a long story," Serina knew not to push her luck. "But if you are in charge now, perhaps you can help me. This station still belongs to the Car'das, right?"
"What are you talking about?" Impatience suddenly turned into open distrust.
"Just what I heard on Imperial Center," the young woman hurried to continue before the distrust could turn into animosity. "You see, I used to have a good life there. My husband and I had a small business, importing all kinds of goods from the rim. Then about a year ago, my husband got arrested. Stormtroopers dragged him out of our store. I had no idea what was going on."
She sighed deeply and let her head hang down in misery. "I didn't hear from him for days. And then they came back. The stormtroopers did. Told me that he had finally confessed to being a traitor and a rebel and they searched through the whole store. When they were finished and hadn't found anything, they left without another word. Most of the stuff was destroyed. Never saw my husband again, either. I had to shut down the store. Sold everything I had. A friend of ours gave me a job. But with every day that passed, my anger grew. I couldn't help it. They had ruined my whole life."
Another sigh, then she drew herself upright and looked Inaldra straight in the face. "I saved every credit that I could. And I started asking around. Carefully, of course. I picked up some rumors about the rebellion. And then one day, I heard that they supposedly worked together with smugglers for their supplies. So, I did some more digging around. Then, about two months ago, somebody told me about a huge smuggling network led by a man named Jorj Car'das. And he told me that they operated out of Tansarii Point Station above Ord Mantell."
She paused again, looking expectantly at the slightly older Twi'lek. Had she applied just enough Force persuasion to grant her story the needed believability? Then she continued. "Finding a passage on a cruise ship was the easiest way of getting here. It took me most of my savings. But what else should I have done? I figured if the rumors were true Jorj could perhaps get me in contact with some rebels. But now…" she trailed off and let her head hang down again. "Now it was all for nothing." She finished with a slight shake of her head, her voice reflecting her dejectedness.
"Hmm," Inaldra pondered her story for long moments before she replied, "You took a pretty big risk coming here. But you still didn't tell me how you got up here."
"That was harder than I had expected. Of course, I dug up everything about this station back home. After all, it's not one of a kind. And the station master's office is usually always in the same spot. I figured that dressed as a passenger I would have no chance to get up here. So, I organized myself this outfit." She motioned to the work suit she was wearing. "And what can I say, it took me some patience at the blast doors downstairs. But sooner or later, somebody had to come walking through."
Another moment of silence, then Serina forged forward. "So, what happened to Jorj?"
The Twi'lek hesitated for a moment. "To be honest, we really don't know. He went on a trip about a year ago. He had this habit of being gone for months at a time. So, at first, everything continued as before. But after six months, we realized that he wasn't coming back. And today, Talon Karrde is in charge of the network and I take care of this station."
"But you are still smugglers, right?"
The hopeful expression on Serina's face caused Inaldra to bark another laugh. "Yes," she confirmed, "we are still smugglers."
"So, you can help me?"
"Hmm, I don't know about that." When the hope on the young woman's face threatened to fade again into despair, she added, "But you are in luck. Karrde should be here by tomorrow afternoon. I will tell him about your request. We'll see what we can do about it. I have you escorted back to your quarters now. Enjoy the station. I'll get back to you tomorrow. But…" Inaldra gave her a stern look, "no more excursions outside the visitor's section!"
...She was standing in front of closed heavy blast doors. The floor around her was littered with bodies, some with blaster wounds, others with the typical cauterized cuts caused by a lightsaber. Vader ordered two of his stormtroopers to guard the two corridors leading back toward the turbolifts. Then he motioned her to proceed. She covered her face with a small breath mask with attached goggles and opened the blast doors. Several smoke grenades landed inside the large command center. The troopers advanced into the room once it had filled with smoke. She followed them inside... and found herself staring down into green eyes with hate burning so hot that it caused her to flinch back...
With a start, Serina jerked awake in bed. The nightmare left her with a feeling of unease. Why had her subconscious mind dredged up that particular memory from seven years ago? The raid on Farside Base would forever be connected with the loss of her baby daughter just a few short weeks prior to it. But what did it have to do with her current mission? She let her head drop back to the soft cushion and stared up at the dark ceiling. For a long time, she raked her brain, going over every event that had happened since she had left Imperial Center several weeks prior, every person she had met during that time, every little detail that might give her the much-desired clue. But she came up completely empty. There was no connection whatsoever to Farside Base! But the unease increased with every passing moment. She had to be overlooking something. But what?
A quick check of her chronometer confirmed that it was still far too early to get some breakfast. She sat up in bed and took up the meditation position Tantra had shown her more than half a lifetime ago. But the focus required for an invigorating meditation eluded her. With a disgusted grunt, she gave up her attempt of staying in bed. At least, she could enjoy a really nice, long shower. And then, she would take an extensive stroll through the public areas of the station.
The day had passed slowly. Breakfast, lunch, and now an early afternoon coffee snack. She had chosen a niche in the dining area that granted her an unimpeded view of the entrance. By the time, she had finished her second caf, one of the station security guards approached the cruise ship hostess responsible for seating the guests. After she had checked her records, she pointed him in her direction. With long strides, he approached her. Her wait was finally over.
"Sera Walker?"
Serina gazed up at the young guard and nodded, "Yes?"
"I am to take you to the station master," he informed her.
She got up quickly and shouldered her small satchel. "Very well," she told him, " take me to her."
Down to the main hangar level, across to the other strut, through the blast doors that had hindered her on the previous day, and up to the level, where she had expected to meet Car'das. The door to Inaldra's office slid aside after the guard had entered the access code into the activation pad. He led her inside and pointed toward the small sitting group at the far end. "Please have a seat. The station master will be with you shortly." Moments later, she was alone in the large office.
As her gaze swept across the room, the unease that had bothered her since early morning turned into inner unrest. Sitting down was out of the question. She felt watched and would have to tread very carefully. Casually, she scanned the room and discovered the surveillance cameras, one in each opposite corner of the curved room. Then she walked to one of the large viewports and stood there for long moments, watching the activities down at the entrance to the hangar bay. Fighting down her growing impatience with a deep sigh, she turned and strolled over to the sideboard containing all the nick-nacks.
It was truly a curious assortment! Only a few items she recognized easily: an ancient comlink, twice the size of those currently in use; a small round metal box that appeared to be some kind of ancient compass; a hand-sized flat rock with markings of a sundial on it; a tiny box with small, blue stones, that appeared to be a jewelry box of sorts. Then there were all kinds of stones: some only the size of a Denta bean, others larger than she could cup with both her hands; Diorites, milkstones, Iridiite, various marbles, and even one that looked to be a piece of blue Adegan crystal like those once used by the Jedi for their lightsabers. And then there were the even stranger items: metal objects with no apparent usage; a set of clam shells that might once have belonged to a nyork; smaller shells that might have been collected on any of a thousand and more seashores in the galaxy; a furry object that might have once been a living creature.
Her gaze wandered from item to item, scrutinizing some of them more closely while passing quickly over others until it caught on one of the strangest ones in the whole lot: it had the appearance of a gnarled root of sorts but could as well have been a broken-off piece of a tree limb. Its color was a dark dirty green and it was small enough to be easily hidden inside her fist. But that all was not what had caught her attention. What was really curious was the strong presence the item projected in the Force. It might appear dead, but it certainly wasn't. And it was calling to her. Whatever place it had originated from had to be thriving with the living Force. It would certainly be a fascinating place to investigate.
A tingling at the edge of her perception warned her moments before a swoosh from the direction of the door announced Inaldra entering her office. Serina turned to face the station master and the man who was accompanying her just seconds before they came into view around the corner. For an instant, her movement hid the actions of her left hand from the cameras. The instant was long enough: reaching for the gnarled root with her mind, she guided it to where she could grab it quickly. As she finished her turn toward the Twi'lek, she shoved her hand with the snatched trophy into her pocket.
"Interesting collection, isn't it?" Inaldra commented as she approached the young woman. "It used to be even larger when Car'das was still here." Then she motioned her to take a seat.
Serina settled down in one of the armchairs. The station master sat down across from her on the wide couch while the man, who had followed her into the room, selected the other armchair. He seemed to be only a few years her elder but projected a self-confidence worthy of a much older man. For long moments, they sat there, scrutinizing each other.
Finally, Inaldra broke the silence. "This is Talon Karrde, the new leader of the Car'das."
Talon favored the young woman with a friendly, but reserved nod. "And you must be Sera Walker, a widow from Imperial Center on a search for smugglers? At least, that was what Inaldra told me."
Serina nodded her head vigorously, allowing her expression of shy timidity to be replaced by one of budding hope. "Yes, that's right. I hope you can help me?"
"Well, why don't you tell me how you ended up here at the station. Inaldra told me a little bit about it, but I want to hear it for myself."
"Sure," and the station master would listen very attentively seeking any deviation from the story she had spun the previous day. She would have to be very careful to not tip her hand. "It all started about a year ago..."
"...and finally, I got up here," she finished her narration long minutes later. "The station master saw me out in the hallway. She invited me in here and told me that Jori Car'das had disappeared. At first, I thought that all my effort was for naught, but, if you are in charge now, perhaps you can help me?" She had underlaid her pleading voice with some mild Force persuasion. And yet, the man across from her had a fairly strong mind. If he proved unwilling to help her, there would be little she could do without tipping him off to what she truly was.
Silence descended again while Karrde mulled her story over. Of course, Inaldra had used the previous night to do some checking into the young woman even before his arrival. So far, she had been able to confirm that the part about the mentioned business on Imperial Center and the death of her husband had been true. But, on the other hand, records could be faked. The ISB was pretty good at it, as was the Alliance. Without confirming it on-site and with living neighbors or relatives, it would remain a question of trust. The young woman certainly appeared honest and trustworthy, but it could all be a ruse. On the other hand, he could just get her into contact with some of the rebels he knew and let them sort it out.
"All right," he finally announced his decision, "I will make a few calls. Perhaps, I can find somebody to aid you in your request." He slapped his hands on his thighs and got up. "I'll have somebody take you back to your quarters. We'll contact you when we know more." As Serina and the Twi'lek followed suit, he pulled out his comlink and activated it.
A male voice answered the call, "Station security."
"Karrde here. Send somebody up here to Inaldra's office to take our guest back to her quarters."
"Right away, Sir." The connection shut down.
The unease had tapered off during the conversation, but suddenly it flared back up. Goosebumps raced down Serina's spine as she stepped around the armchair to follow Karde toward the entrance. As she passed the sideboard with the knick-nacks, Inaldra caught her gaze being drawn to the unusual collection. "It's quite intriguing," she commented.
"It certainly is. Did you collect that?"
"Hardly," the station master barked a laugh at the ridiculous assumption. "It belonged to Jorj. From every trip he took, he brought something back. Junk, most of it. Some of the rocks might have some value, but the rest? Just keepsakes."
"Then why do you keep them?" The puzzlement was clearly visible on the young woman's face.
"Because I told her to," Karrde spoke up. "Who knows, Jorj might come back one of these days. Wouldn't want him mad about us throwing out his memorabilia."
A chime from the door announced the arrival of the requested station security. Karrde activated the entrance and a dark-haired man about Serina's age stepped into the office.
All alarm bells went off in Serina's mind as he turned toward her. A handsome clear-cut face, full lips, and dark brown, nearly black eyes, that tightened into slits as he caught sight of her. "You!" he barked at her. "What are you doing here?" He wanted to stomp toward the slightly shorter woman, but Karrde held him back.
"You know her?" he questioned him.
The younger man nodded. "Oh yeah, and how I know her. And, whatever she told you, don't believe it. She's really bad news, trust me." His anger was palpable, but he didn't advance any further into the office.
Karrde turned toward the young woman. "This is my chief of security, Merik," he introduced the man beside him, searching her face for signs of unease about the voiced accusation. But he found none. There was only confusion and hurt mixed with a growing disappointment as the young woman started to realize how the hash words would impinge upon her request. "I assume you have no idea what he is talking about?"
Serina shook her head as tears started to collect at the corners of her eyes. "No, I've never met him before." Then she addressed Merik directly. "Why do you say those things? I haven't done anything to you or anybody else." A tear rolled down her cheek as she fought hard to keep her voice from cracking. "You must mistake me for somebody else. The Imps messed up my life so badly by killing my husband. Please don't ruin my only hope of getting a chance for some revenge," she pleaded.
But Merik's face was set like flint. He totally ignored her plea. "I'd shoot her right away. That would be the best for all of us," he advised Karrde in no uncertain terms. "If you won't believe me, at least lock her up and then send her back to where she came from. The Imps messed up her life? Is that what she told you? What a joke! She is an Imp herself. Remember what I told you once about my time with the rebellion? How I barely escaped the destruction of Farside Base? I might not be able to prove it, but I'm certain she was the reason why the Imps ever discovered that station." Then he turned back to Serina and glared at her. If looks could kill, she would have dropped dead on the spot.
For long moments, Karrde pondered the situation. It was word against word. Merik couldn't prove his accusations. And neither could the young woman prove her claims. It might just be a mistake on Merik's part. People sometimes did have a doppelganger. Sera certainly did look confused and innocent enough. But if she was a trained agent, it would all be an act, and they wouldn't be able to tell the difference. He had to play it safe, not only for their sakes but also for the sake of those rebels she had been trying to contact through him.
"I am sorry, Mrs. Walker," he addressed the young woman, "but under these circumstances, I won't be able to help you. You will return to your quarters now. Somebody will take you to the dining area and back to your quarters for dinner times. But I don't want to find you roaming around the station. You will stay in your room until your cruise continues. When the Star Maiden departs, you will be on board."
"But..." Serina started to interject but was cut off immediately.
"Merik will see to it that you abide by those rules," he added and turned to his chief of security, "right?"
Merik nodded grimly. "Certainly. And if she doesn't?"
Karrde shrugged dismissively. "Then you have my permission to shoot her."
If Serina had learned one thing in her life, then it was to never fight a lost cause. When Merik motioned her to exit the office and walk ahead of him toward the turbolift, she complied with slumped shoulders without looking back.
It had taken her more than a week to finally arrive at a planet with an Imperial garrison large enough to be equipped with a hyperspace capable shuttle she could commandeer. Three more days of traveling from the Outer Rim back toward the Core Worlds, and now she would be back at Imperial Center in just a few short hours. During the time that had passed since her encounter with Merik, her anger had steadily grown. Af first, it had been directed at the young man who had once been her friend. But as the hours crawled by like years, she realized that she could only blame her current situation on her own pity for the young man during her assignment at Farside Base. Had she killed him when she had had the chance, she wouldn't have to face her master now with nothing but empty hands to show for nearly two months of planning, preparing, and wasting Imperial funds on a pleasure cruise. He would not be please, that was certain.
Well, at least she could answer his question as to why they hadn't heard from Jorj Car'das in the past year. As she thought about the former leader of the smuggling network, who had to have been working - at least sometimes - for or with the Empire, she became aware of the gnarled root she had taken for Inaldra's office. As several times before, she pulled the dark-green object out of her pocket and studied it for long moments. Though she could not say why, yet she had an uncanny feeling that it might provide her with a lead as to where Jorj had disappeared to. If she could manage to locate the origin of the item, that was.
But would that be enough to appease her master's anger, anger, she would certainly have to face when she reported the results of her mission?
Two bright streaks of light were performing a rapidly moving dance in the semi-darkness with the only other light provided by several terminals lining the far side of the room. One of them was the typical red of a Sith blade, the other a bright orange. The taller fighter was bearing down heavily on the shorter one, his rapid strikes just barely deflected. Loud crackles filled the room whenever both weapons met.
A muffled outcry escaped Serina's tightly compressed lips as her master's blade made it through her defenses a third time, searing her left thigh a hand's width below her hip. She managed to block the rest of the slash with her own weapon before it could inflict further damage to her leg. As the momentum of her swing forced Vader's blade upward, she followed its movement with a dive underneath her master's raised arm. Quickly she rolled out of his reach and jumped back to her feet, raising her blade into a defensive position.
The new wound sent a throbbing pain down her leg, drowning easily the similar aches from her right elbow and her left shoulder. There was no time to block the pain. The next attack would follow instantly. Instead, she allowed it to spread through her whole being, to amplify the anger that had been churning inside her for the past nine days, granting her access to the Force in a powerful way. It was the way of the dark side. With absolute clarity, she knew that. But for once, she didn't care. It might be her only chance to survive this confrontation with her master.
As Vader advanced toward her, his blade raised high and starting a downward motion aimed at her right side, she opened herself to the Force. Time slowed to a crawl. Instinct took over, guiding her into blocking the strike high above her head, pushing his blade toward her left. Then she followed her block into a 360-degree spin away from her opponent and back toward his left side. Vader had anticipated her move and had mirrored it with a spin of his own. Again, their blades clashed as he blocked her sideways sweep. And again, she spun away from him, this time allowing her momentum to carry her out of his reach. But only to rebound in a frontal attack.
Her unusual ferocity surprised the Sith Lord, and he was driven backward several steps. But then he broke her forward drive. For a few strikes, they held their respective positions before he forced her into a slow retreat toward the back wall.
Serina gave way until Vader used a low cut toward her left leg. Instead of blocking it, she leaped up to allow the blade to pass underneath her and turned the jump into a forward roll that brought her to a position behind her master. She whirled back toward him, slashing downward toward his booted feet. But Vader had already swirled around and moved his blade upward to block her strike. An inkling of approval started to weaken the torrent of anger that had been rolling off him ever since Serina had reported back from her mission...
...She had selected one of the entry points into the Coruscant system that brought her back to normal space just outside of the gravity well of Muscave slightly above the ecliptic. An hour later, she had followed one of the standard lanes toward Imperial Center and was quickly approaching Vader's castle. A few short minutes later, she settled down in the shuttle bay. Caaroq was already waiting for her when she descended the exit ramp of the outdated shuttle.
"You are back early. How did the mission go?" she questioned her as she fell in step beside Serina.
"Not as expected," the younger woman replied with a tone of indignation in her voice. Then she gave her a short recap of the events on Tansarii Point Station. "It took me nearly nine days after that to get back here. What a wasted time!" Serina's voice also reflected the anger she had been harboring since Merik's interference.
"He won't like that," her friend commented. "You better prepare yourself for the worst. Lord Vader has been in a really bad mood ever since he returned two days ago. I have no idea what happened, but something must have not worked out as planned."
"Dag it!" for once, Serina could not hold back her disgust over her bad timing. Bad enough that her own mission had failed. If his plan had gone amiss as well, she would have hell to pay for her own lack of success. Usually, she would avoid her master at all costs if he was in this kind of mood. But right now, that was certainly not an option. "Where can I find him?" she required.
She located her master a short time later in the large training room a level below his quarters with the large hyperbaric chamber. He was sparring with several of his ASP-19 battle droids in the semi-dark room. For long minutes, she lingered at the entrance, observing what was more of a slaughtering of the automata than just a training program. Of course, the droids had never been a true match for the Sith Lord, but in larger numbers, they provided at least a good work-out. As long, as he was in a fairly reasonable mood, which was obviously not the case. Dark waves of rage were rolling off him as he fought back one droid after the other in quick succession. But the automata were not organic beings. And even seriously maimed, they would charge again, until he had scored a strike that would shut them down for good. And no matter how many of them he destroyed, his anger didn't diminish in the least bit.
Finally, the last of the powerful fighting machines slammed into the far wall and slid down into a heap of scrap metal. Vader shut off his lightsaber and turned toward his waiting apprentice.
Without any signs of reluctance, the young woman advanced into the large room and went down on one knee before him. She bowed her head in deference. "Master." She didn't allow any of her true feelings to escape her mental shields. But she was certain, that he had already guessed the result of her mission based on her premature return.
He motioned her to rise. "Report," he ordered her, his voice full of barely restrained anger.
Again, Serina knew better than to hesitate. There were many things, that the Dark Lord hated. Beating around the bush was one of them. As was any attempt of finding excuses for the outcome of a plan or result of a mission. "The mission was a failure, master. Jorj Car'das is no longer the head of the smuggler network. He disappeared about a year ago and they haven't heard from him since. Talon Karrde has taken over his position a couple of months back, but he wasn't willing to get me into contact with the rebels." No need to mention the involvement of Merik, a name he would certainly remember from her mission to Farside Base.
"Why didn't you employ your special abilities?" His voice was calm but with an undertone to it, that didn't bode well for the young woman. Had he noticed that she was skipping some important details?
"I never had a chance to get close enough to him. And his mind proved too strong for regular persuasion." Her voice was flat, stating a fact, not trying to make an excuse.
"What happened?" he required, the undertone now even more pronounced. The young woman would have to tread even more carefully now to not cause an outburst of fatal proportions.
With Serina's hope for a quick escape from under her master's oppressive presence evaporated into thin air, she started to give a report of the planning, execution, and early termination of her mission with short, precise deliberations. Again, she avoided any mention of her former friend.
But Vader's instinct wasn't fooled. "What caused his change of mind?"
"His chief of security advised against helping me," she finally admitted, her reluctance to touch on this detail causing her to hesitate slightly. Dag, she cringed inwardly, had she just broken her own rule of never beating around the bush?
"His chief of security?" The tone was utterly flat now, the outburst imminent.
Serina swallowed hard before she revealed what she had tried to avoid. "Merik. Merik Caball."
"The same Merik you spared on Farside Base?" The last words, Vader spat out with a mixture of disgust and rage.
Serina took an involuntary step backward. Her hand found the hilt attached to her belt and clasped it.
Her master reached for his lightsaber. With a hiss, the red blade sprang to life. "What have I taught you about pity?" Then he charged her.
The young woman barely managed to somersault backward to give her enough time to draw and ignite her own weapon. Then their blades clashed...
...For several moments, Serina gave way again under Vader's forceful strikes, using her full repertoire of Soresu to prevent his blade from finding its mark a fourth time. Her grip on the Force started to waver as her anger gave way to resignation. She had never been even a close match to his fighting abilities. It was only a question of seconds before he got through her defenses. And her master's rage had barely diminished as he continued to drive her toward the wall with the terminals. If she faltered now...
...but no, she would not allow her weakness to become proof of her unworthiness. Reaching into the depth of her being where dark, powerful emotions lay buried - reserved for times of dire need -, she pulled them forth and immersed herself in them. Memories flickered through her: her parents' death, Tantra's passing, the many forms of rejection perceived over the years, the Emperor's mental intrusion at the levy, pains inflicted, defeats experienced, punishments received from her master, as well as all the emotions collected along the way, mainly from the man who was currently threatening her very existence. As her instincts continued to direct her weapon, her soul filled with a rage she had never allowed herself to experience before. As her perception sharpened, as she felt renewed strength pouring into her limbs from the living Force around her, she blocked another high swing of Vader's lightsaber deflecting his blade downward toward her right and somersaulted over it. Swiveling around, she started into an attack driving her master back several feet.
For long seconds, he just deflected her forceful blows, his satisfaction at her use of the dark side palpable. Then she feigned toward his right. As he started to block her strike, she reversed into a straight-forward lunge dipping underneath his blade. Her lightsaber bore through his robes and seared the bodysuit right below the hip. Serina quickly took a step backward. But she wasn't fast enough. Vader had reversed his movement as well, entangling her blade. A forceful twist of his weapon and the young woman's lightsaber tumbled through the air.
Cradling her aching right hand, Serina sank to her knees in front of her master and bowed her head in defeat, Vader's blade hovering an inch above her left shoulder. She didn't allow resignation to weaken the dark emotions she had pulled from the depth of her soul but used the shame of defeat to churn them on.
For long moments, she felt him studying her intently as his fierce rage ebbed away, reverting to the usual simmering anger at his core. A hiss and the red energy beam disappeared.
Abruptly, he turned away from her and strode toward the exit. Join me, his mental command resounded through her mind. Quickly, she rose to her feet to comply.
When she dropped back to normal space, a mix of various shades of green mixed with patches of gray greeted her. She eased her vessel into a low orbit above what her nav computer declared as the equator of the strange world and started into a simple search pattern. After three hours, she was sure that there were no cities nor any kind of technology to be found on the swamp covered globe below her. But it was teeming with all kinds of life-forms. And, what her instruments would not reveal, it was writhing with the Living Force.
Serina placed her vessel in a stationary orbit at the position from where she had started her search and pulled the strange object, she had obtained at the Tansarii Point Station out of her pocket. "Now let's find out, where you have led me," she voiced her thoughts out loud. "Let's hope it was worth the time and effort." She didn't want to disappoint her master yet another time...
...She had followed her master to his personal quarters and into the hyperbaric chamber, the dark emotions that had helped her survive the fight with her master buried again deep in her soul. Vader had not lost another word about their lightsaber fight nor her encounter with Merik. By the time, the capsule had been sealed and his helmet and breathing mask removed by the mechanical claw assembly, Serina had managed to ease some of the pains from the three wounds he had inflicted upon her through a quick healing meditation. The rest would have to wait until a later time.
"Is there anything else you haven't told me yet?" the Sith Lord addressed the young woman, kneeling right next to the entrance of the chamber.
Serina reached into her pocket and pulled out the knarled root. "I discovered this item in a collection that once belonged to Jorj Car'das. From what the smugglers told me, he had the habit of collecting curious items from all his trips. This one called to me through the Force. I can't tell you why, but I just had to take it. Perhaps, it can provide a lead to where Car'das disappeared to. He might have returned to wherever this is from." Of course, it was a real long shot, but, with a Force connection this strong, there might be other interesting finds at the destination, even if the former smuggler chief couldn't be located there. She handed the root to her master.
For long moments, he studied the curious object. Then he nodded, "Locate its place of origin. If you find Car'das, let me know immediately. Perhaps, our plan can still be salvaged."
The rest of that night had been spent in more pleasurable activities. Several hours later, she had finally returned to her quarters.
By the time, she had left on her newest quest, her arms and thigh had been back to normal. The root had shown her the way. But it had been a slow traveling. Whenever she immersed herself in the Force, an otherwise invisible line had appeared, linking the item to its point of origin. She had known the direction; the distance, however, was a different story. Thus, the trip had consisted of many, many hops through hyperspace. In the beginning, the jumps were longer, but the closer she came, the shorter they got. Finally, after over two weeks, she had arrived in an obscure system about which the Imperial databanks provided hardly any information.
The planet below her was small to medium-sized. Hopefully, the gnarled root would show her the spot where Jorj had once picked it up. For long moments, she concentrated solely on the object, eliminating all other distracting thoughts. Then she closed her eyes and opened herself to the Force. Although she was no longer looking at it, she could still perceive the presence of the root. And there it was again, the connection that had brought her from Imperial Center across the galaxy to this swamp covered world: it appeared like a thin, green line, gently swaying between the object in her hand and the teeming mass of life below her. With her mind, she followed the line down to the planet. It twisted toward a spot close to the current border between night and day slightly south of the equator. Serina opened her eyes and activated the controls of the StarLady. Following the impression, the Force had just revealed to her, she directed her ship toward the surface.
Warm, heavy fog greeted her. Hovering a few hundred feet above the ground, she searched for a spot to set her ship down. A strange sensation started to tug at her mind's perception, but she pushed it aside. First things first. She had to find a place to land. The StarLady dipped even lower, moving slowly past huge gnarltrees, smaller ponds, and larger swamps. But there was no stretch of land that would allow Serina to set her ship down without the risk of it being bogged down in the mire. Again, she opened herself to the Force, allowing it to guide her to the right place. There it was again, a tug, a slight pull toward her right. This time, she didn't ignore it but steered her ship in the direction the pull was taking her. The sensation grew stronger and, at the same time, darker. Was there something tainted by the dark side down below?
Finally, a small clearing came into view below her, barely large enough for the StarLady. Tentatively, she settled her ship down onto the soft, spongy surface. When the landing struts only sunk in a few inches, she breathed a sigh of relief. From here on, she would have to move on foot. But the source of the dark sensations could not be far away.
Serina powered down her vessel and prepared to leave. Lightsaber, robe, a small drinking bottle. More was not necessary. She didn't intend to stay long. Her hood pulled deep into her face, she walked down the exit ramp and sealed the ship.
The clearing was bordered by gnarled trees with huge above-ground roots. The air was moist and carried a large variety of pollen and spores. The smell was powerful, mixing the odors of decay with the pheromones from a multitude of plants and animals. But Serina had learned to disregard such distractions. The forest around her was teeming with life, but none of the animals dared to approach the black-clad intruder. Once, she caught a glimpse of a long-beaked bird perched on a thick branch high above her. Another time, a snake-like creature, orange and green in color with bulging eyes and a long snout, slithered across the twisting path ahead of her and, after one quick glance at the approaching stranger, disappeared swiftly in a hole in the nearest tree.
The closer she got to the source of the darkness, the narrower the path grew. Finally, she had to force her way between tangles of gnarled above-ground roots and dangling vines, stirring up groups of white, long-legged spiders. Suddenly, the thick forest gave way to a small clearing drenched in a malevolence that caused her to stop dead in her tracks. At the far side stood the largest tree she had seen so far. At its base, a deep hole was visible, choked with roots and vines. Slowly, putting one foot in front of the other, she moved into the open space and approached the tree.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a movement to her right. She spun around to investigate, igniting her lightsaber without conscious thought.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk," a diminutive, green creature sat on a moss-covered log, shaking its head in disapproval of her brandished weapon.
Sensing no danger from the tiny humanoid, Serina deactivated her blade and returned the hilt to her belt. For long moments, she studied the creature. It had long, pointed ears, large, gentle eyes, and an old, heavily lined face. Its clothes had long ago deteriorated into brown-gray rags. No tools or weapons were visible except for a knobby cane.
Male, she decided after a few moments. And the longer she studied the being, the more she became aware of his powerful presence in the Force. And somehow, there was even a certain familiarity there, as if she had met him a long time ago or at least seen a picture of him somewhere. But where? She raked her brain, sifting swiftly through her memories.
Was he a Jedi? Yes, that thought rang true within her. An old Jedi, very old and obviously very powerful. Had he perhaps been a council member, gone into hiding when Order 66 had wiped out all his peers? That also rang true. Suddenly, a picture surfaced. She might have seen it as a child, but she wasn't certain. Perhaps, it wasn't even a memory of her own past, since, over the past eleven years, she had gleaned a wide variety of memories, mainly from her master, but also through other encounters. It was the picture of the chamber where the Jedi Council used to meet. There were several beings sitting in chairs in the circular room, some in person, others as holograms. And one of them was a small, green creature with huge, pointed ears.
Yoda! The name popped up suddenly. Yes, she was certain, that had to be him. So, he had survived just as Obi-Wan had. But Kenobi was dead now, killed by her master on the Death Star. And Vader would be delighted to eliminate this tiny, old Jedi master as well if he found out his whereabouts. No, she would have to bury any memory of their encounter. Let him finish his life in peace on this forsaken planet.
"Recognize me you do," the old Jedi addressed her, bobbing his head in agreement to his words as Serina pulled out of her introspection. "Betray me you will not."
Had he read her mind? What should she reply to that? Serina didn't know. Thus, she just nodded and remained silent.
Yoda slid from the log where he had waited for the young woman and joined her at the entrance to the cave. With his stick, he pointed toward the opening. "In there you will go. Find answers you will. Please you they might not."
"What is in there?" she inquired.
"Only what take in there you do," came the cryptic reply.
As her hand moved to the hilt at her belt, the old Jedi added with a slow shake of his head, "Your weapon need you will not."
"Will you be here when I'm finished?"
"Wait for you I will," Yoda replied, "go now you must." He turned and hobbled back to the moss-covered log.
Serina followed him with her gaze. Then, with a deep breath, she turned back to the entrance.