Author's note:

I honestly didn't intend for this chapter to be this long, but I've discovered that most times it's the story that takes you places and not vice versa. As promised, I'm working my way into the meatier portion of the plot, which means...that's right, no more rambling descriptions from Jord, who loves to immerse herself in would-be history and the like! ;)

A little thing to note, on a whim (and as my version of a thank-you) I decided to include one of my reviewers into this chapter as a brief, cameo character (with her permission of course). Sharinganavenger, if you do manage to read this chapter, I would happily do the same for you – if it isn't an embarrassment, that is. Heh heh. Of course, it would be great if you could tell me what name you would like to use and what kind of character you'd like to be. I had jokingly suggested to Katimnai that I would portray her as a denizen of the dark, but I was virtuous and good, and restrained myself.

Aaaanyways...I'm sure this author's note makes me seem light-headed and/or tired, which I assure you I am. So I'll thank my reviewers once again for reading this story, putting up with it ;) and giving me their honest opinions. It really does mean a lot. And before I say something I'll regret, TTFN folks.

P.S. I've just finished reading this book called Hood (written by Stephen Lawhead) about the origins of Robin Hood. The author offers a Celtic spin on Robin Hood mythology, and it's a very good read. But be warned! This is book one of a series of three. I was stupid enough to pick it up without learning that the sequels haven't been written yet (or so I think), and am now kinda bummed. I really do hate the phrase: to be continued...

P.P.S. While I'm on the subject of books, and if you're feeling inclined to read, give a book called Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell a go. It's a lovely (if lengthy) story, set in an alternate universe in the 1800s. In it, Britain is at war with the conquering French and two magicians step up to the plate to defend their country. Of course, things go quite wrong, but I'd ruin it for you if I told you what happened.

CHAPTER 9

As the sun sank slowly across the horizon, it bathed Theed's skyline – its city a converging point of modern and historical structures – in an almost golden light. The glow reflected serenely off of glass and metal, gently touching the city streets below. Javin studied the beautiful dusky display as he sank his teeth into an apple. His homeworld, Endor, was not known for such graceful displays of nature. And he fully intended to savour the moment; preserve its memory, so that he could appreciate it later when in a calmer state of mind.

But to declare that his frame of mind needed soothing was an understatement, to say the least.

He contemplated their situation as he absently examined the half-eaten apple. The evening setting could not have been lovelier; the streets of Theed were still occupied by busy feet traipsing here and there. Even the air was fresh and sweet – it trod the line between hot and cold without overstepping its bounds in either direction. Everything was in balance, even if for a short span of time.

Which was why it all didn't fit.

It was as if fate was in a rage of its own making, and that this peaceful scene was simply construed to be the first of many taunts – to a life he was denied. Their meeting with Senator Sonum had unraveled too many layers to a truth he wasn't sure he wanted to uncover anymore. It surely bound him tight to his past, but if the truth could shake his foundations and faith in the Jedi Order, then that would mean that all this time he had been in service to a lie. Every act and deed that he carried out in the name of the Order would be hypocrisy, and in the end he would be abandoned at the beginning – empty hands displaying a fruitless endeavor.

Javin looked again into the setting sun, blinking at its remaining intensity – still strong – with a partial hope of being blinded to what the future held in store for them. But metaphors were metaphors, and no amount of convenient distractions could mask the fact that his past lay buried out in the depths of the galaxy, waiting to be found. Try as he might, he could not find a part of himself that wished it to remain hidden – he supposed that ultimately all he wanted was the truth, whatever it may be.

"I know some of these Masters," came a voice beside him suddenly, which jarred Javin out of his thoughts.

He turned his attention to James, who was busily reading Senator Sonum's journal. James stopped walking and sat down on some tiled steps; an entrance to a building. Javin remained standing, one hand holding an apple core and the other buried in his pocket. "Which ones?" he asked.

James' brow ruffled. "Well, just one actually...and I may have heard of the others through someone else. But this one, Master Lyre Renata – I met her when I was a youngling."

"So who was she then?" asked Javin, tired. "What did she do?"

"Sonum just says that she was someone involved in the cloning project. That Pietro knew her as someone who was...and I quote, "waist-deep in this loathsome business". I remember her," said James again, trying to recall a distant memory. "She taught us meditative techniques."

Javin scoffed.

James stared at the journal, his eyes growing sad. "If only we knew."

The younger man suddenly turned away, his eyes beginning to show sparks of an emerging anger. "If you only you knew? If you knew, then what? What could you have done? You'd have followed the same road Pietro did. He obviously tried to stop it, but he couldn't...could he? In the end, it consumed him."

James gazed at his Padawan, watching the boy's head droop slightly. "We can't change the past. But we've been granted this time – the present – and now is when and where our choices make the most impact."

"It doesn't make any difference," said Javin, disheartened. "Who will be held accountable? Do you honestly think the Republic will hold a hearing, that they'll spare their own investigators at a time like this? And even if they did," he faced his master with a scowl, "...how many Jedi are around to face the consequences?"

"I never said we were going bring anyone to justice, Padawan. Trust me, I would have my heart set on it if I had an inkling of indication that we would prevail. But really, it would be a fool's hope."

Javin threw his hands up in the air, dejected. "So what can we do? Sweep the dirt under the rug and walk away? I can't do that. I...I owe it to myself and to Elori...and to Senator Sonum, that we would uncover the truth. You do too. You gave her your word."

James smiled grimly. "I know. I never said we would just stand by idly. Our dearth of information has just been filled," James held up the Senator's journal. "We have names, times, places."

"To do what?" asked Javin, half-heartedly. His body was tired and his mind was now catching up. To add to his growing fatigue, he felt as if his initial zeal had been doused in frigid water.

"Let's go have something to eat first, and I'll tell you then."

It was more of a restaurant and less of a cantina; and its clientele were obviously of higher repute. The sleek, dark wooden floors and classy décor suggested that those with fatter wallets primarily dined here. Nevertheless, James had decided that they both would profit from some good food and a brief, but pleasant, hiatus from their weary travails.

James and Javin walked up to a well-polished bar, and took their seats. After having ordered their meals and beverages, they sat in relative silence, James with his hands clasped out in front of him and Javin with his in his lap. A large screen that hung from the ceiling displayed images of the news and other less interesting matters. After their drinks had arrived, Javin reached for his and following a large swig, he spoke.

"I didn't mean to lose my temper earlier," he began.

"It's alright." smiled James, his fingers wrapped around his own glass. "You've had a trying day."

"No, no. You've endured it too – and you're holding up pretty well. I just...well, I have a better knack for acting like a child. And it was wrong of me to take it out on you."

"Fair enough," responded James as he glanced briefly at the holovid screen. "But know that I don't hold you accountable for your anger this time. It's justifiable."

"You mean," began Javin, a sly smile creeping over his lips, "I should be more impulsive? Let loose once in a while?"

"Heaven forbid!" laughed James. "You know what I mean."

Still smiling, Javin leaned sideways and peered around the corner of the bar in anticipation that their hot meals were on their way. The tight corridor was empty and he returned to a more upright seating position. "So...you said you'd tell me what you were thinking about once we got here. What is it? You have a plan?"

"The makings of one perhaps, Javin," mused James. "Having this information that Sonum gave us is all well and good – but I have to admit, I'm stymied when it comes to acting on it. There's a myriad of leads here. Probably half of them are dead ends." James lowered his voice a few degrees before proceeding. "It would do us no good to jet about searching for these Jedi when we don't even know if they're alive."

"So what do you suggest we do?" asked Javin, speaking softly in turn.

"Sonum hinted at the fact that Master Renata visited Ries every now and then."

"Who's that?"

"It's not a who, it's a where. It's a small world, indigenous plants and animals. Some tribal life."

"Why would she go there?" questioned Javin.

"Well, technically I don't think she ever went there. And Sonum said that Pietro thought so too. Trips and missions to other planets are carefully documented by those in the Temple – they're subject to scrutiny more often than you would imagine. So it occurred to me that perhaps her trips to Ries may have been fabricated. Or...if she did travel to that quadrant, then perhaps she visited one of the planets in that system."

Javin frowned pensively. "But this is all speculation, right? I mean, there's really no telling if we're right or wrong given the evidence."

"The evidence is there; only it's up to us to interpret it. Sonum is a Senator, and while she may be very good at what she does, she's no detective. Now," James leaned in closer, while simultaneously trying to portray their conversation as a casual one. "Now, lucky for us, she took very good notes, very diligent, very thorough. She mentioned that Pietro travelled to Ries once or twice. He found very sophisticated irrigation channels. Some of which had to pump water uphill were using energy from rather contemporary power pylons."

"Couldn't they have gotten that off-world?" asked Javin.

James shook his head. "The people on Ries don't have speeders, let alone hyperspace engines. Pietro observed massive electrical fluctuations – power fluctuations! From a planet that doesn't even use mechanized methods to plough their fields! And then, on scouting out the place, he couldn't find a single structure that could give out those kind of readings."

"Maybe there's a structure constructed underground. Like on Telos."

"Maybe, maybe not. All I'm saying is that there has got to be a place that has a need for that kind of energy. And I'll bet all my money that it's in that very system."

Suddenly, Javin's face froze. It was as if a misplaced gear had gotten back into its groove; a missing circuit was now connected. "Are you telling me that there might be another facility?" his voice faltered.

James' mouth pursed into a thin white line. "It would make sense now, wouldn't it? Why invest so much into one place knowing that it could be found out? The loss of a sole facility would be devastating. But if there were two, ah, now perhaps their loss would not have been as bad."

Their thoughts quickened along with their heartbeats. Could it be possible that this reticent and covert little operation was still alive? James had his doubts, but even if there was more than one location, and even if it were abandoned, perhaps its remnants would hand them more evidence to work with.

The steady flow of their thoughts was soon arrested by the arrival of two steaming hot meals. Following a set of polite thank-yous to their waitress, the two proceeded to eat, their minds soon returning to the possible significance of their hypothesis.

"I gotta say," said Javin, still actively chewing his food, "...that I can't find a persuasive-enough flaw in your theory. Realistically though, maybe there's an even simpler explanation for those power-readings. Maybe there's a military base or something – an abandoned one."

"Maybe," agreed James. "But I do think it's certainly worth considering. Maybe even worth investigating. What do you think?"

Javin swallowed his food and stared at his meal. The odors from the steak in front of him served to tantalize his taste buds; the distinct smell of herbs merging together wafted up his nostrils and his mouth watered even more. He let out a barely audible sigh. "Well, it's not like we have any comfort here. I mean, the weather's terrible, the food is atrocious and the people are an unrefined group of brigands."

James chuckled. Perhaps this show of acerbic wit was a sign that the boy was dealing with their daunting situation somewhat successfully. "I'll take that as a yes, then."

As the pair waited patiently on their bill, James happened to throw a careless glance at holovid to his right. The news was on, and initially he dismissed the images as per the norm – the media too often served the purpose of inflammation. They had been known to trump up situations, bring forth undeserved and ill-timed judgments, and characterize otherwise mild incidents into fearful and terror-inspiring moments.

James scoffed lightly as the picture on the screen panned over a lavish abode; now circled by a frenzied crowd of people, held back by a narrow barrier. It almost seemed like an adventurous holovid, borne from an overactive imagination, which drew rapt attention from the public. But this was no film and no yarn. Someone famous had obviously stirred things up. What some people will do for their time in the spotlight, thought James. He shook his head slowly, a little saddened for them.

"Isn't that the Senator?" came Javin's voice next to him.

"What?" said James, his brow creasing. He quickly turned his attention back to the screen. "So it is," he muttered under his breath, a little amazed, as a picture of their new acquaintance appeared briefly.

"What's going on?" spoke another voice from within the restaurant.

The barman fiddled with a small instrument in his hand and almost immediately, the images were accompanied by audible narration. James watched, his eyes widening, as he learned that the senator's home had caught fire. The pyre from which white smoke stemmed was not a trifling one, however. It appeared as if the entire right section of the house was being enveloped by angry flames. As the camera zoomed in, he could clearly discern crumbling walls, broken windows and the wafting about of ash from many crevices.

"James..." began Javin, his voice fearful. "They're saying she was in the house."

The older man didn't respond. How on earth had this happened? More importantly, said a voice within him, why did it happen?

"Should we...be trying to help her?" spoke Javin again.

James lowered his eyes for a moment, thinking. "No. The authorities will have it under control."

"Maybe...maybe she's okay. Maybe they got to her in time."

James chewed his bottom lip nervously. He doubted that this new and alarming development was coincidental. It was well-timed. As for whether it was executed prudently was another matter. But then again, an explosion from a fire could be written off as a tragic accident. At least primarily. No one would initially deduce that someone with murderous intent had a hand in the matter.

Which then meant that he and Javin were no longer the only ones (or outsiders, at any rate) who knew of the senator's past. And whoever sought to see her dead was seeking to bury the entire matter at any cost. It was a frightening thought, and one that did not bode well for him and his Padawan. The longer they remained here, the greater the chances of discovery. In times past, perhaps he would have stayed and fought this invisible menace – which he was certain it was – but back then he would likely have had the support of other Jedi. Atris, at the very least. Now, he and Javin were nothing more than fugitives and they certainly were ill-equipped for confronting an assailant they knew nothing about.

He had made his decision, then. There was really no time for reconsideration.

"Javin." said James, his voice now stern and more authoritative. "We can't stay here anymore. We've got to leave Naboo. We've got to get to Ries and to the bottom of this as soon as possible."

A slight rain began to patter its way on the cobbled streets of Theed during the night, intensifying the colours of the flagstones in splotches underneath the lamplight. The leaves on the bushes and trees, disturbed by the slowly falling rain, began to wave about gently. And small rivulets of water hurried quickly along their paths into side street drains.

Elori Mataki drew up the collar of her coat close about her, as Atton Rand mouthed inaudible words under his breath. As the rain persisted, even though it didn't intensify, Atton's countenance was sullen, and his near-trademark scowl wasn't ready to abandon him.

"I thought this blasted place was supposed to have good weather," he complained. Elori's response wasn't forthcoming, so he continued on, eager to vent his frustrations. "I mean, seriously. For a planet boasting of being one of the best tourist capitals in the galaxy, this sure isn't doing its rep any good."

Elori sighed. "Atton, it's rain. It isn't going to maul you. Now if you ever want to complain about the weather, head over to Hoth and we'll see how you like it there."

"You ever been to Hoth?" he asked, trying to steer the conversation elsewhere. He could do with convenient distractions at the moment.

"Yes."

Atton paused for a second, anticipating a more elaborate answer. And then, on receiving none, "Well? What's it like?"

"Cold. Snowy."

"You don't say." he responded, as he rolled his eyes. She certainly didn't seem eager to discuss the wintery perils of Hoth. "Bet you got to travel quite a bit, though...as a Jedi, I mean. What place do you remember the most?"

Malachor V, thought Elori, but kept the comment within herself. She was really in no mood for soul-searching; she had done enough of that while on Dagobah. "Felucia," she replied. "I adore mushrooms."

"...And giant flowers too, I take it." he said, recalling a distant memory.

"The fungus forest," spoke Elori as a thin smile crossed her lips. "Not for the faint of stomach."

Atton turned and gave her a broad grin. "Was it any good?"

"There were some Felucians, Gossams and Twi'leks there who knew how to cook it well. The trick is to drive out some of the toxins from the mushroom flesh. They'd boil it for...oh, two to three hours at least, and then allow for it to dry for a day before using it for cooking. But when they did, well...the results were splendid. Now, the humans there were always in far too much of a hurry. They'd boil it just fine, but never waited long enough for it to dry. And when they finally cooked and ate it, well, let's just say that there were enough belly aches to go around the table."

Atton pursed his lips, trying to suppress the thought of succulent mushrooms. His stomach growled in protest. "So. When do we eat?"

"We just did, Atton."

"That was three hours ago! And on the ship!"

"What would you like me to do?" she asked, a little unaccustomed to this side of him.

"We should stop! Get out of the rain for a bit and find a nice little diner to...uh...dine in!"

Elori looked at him, her expression deadpan. "You're not going to die of starvation just as much as you're not going to drown from this weather." She paused in her tracks and placed her hands on her hips, feeling a little like she was addressing Javin, or a much younger child. "We have work to do."

A look of gloom shadowed Atton's face. "Oh alright then," he consented, grudgingly. "Where's this Senator's place anyway? Shouldn't we be there yet?"

"Yes, Atton," said Elori patiently. "It's about four more blocks from where we're at."

Atton thrust his moist hands deep into his pockets and walked along with his companion in silence.

Their pace slowed as a barrage of speeders, emergency vehicles mostly, sped by. As the yellow, blue and red lights flickered on the astounded faces of passers-by, a sense of dread crept over the hearts of Elori and Atton. They were sufficiently aware that the materialization of these transports did not endanger them (or at least, not directly), but they were anxious enough to know that a life – or more than one – hung in the balance.

Atton himself developed a dry, worried taste in his mouth. A darker foreboding grew within him to a greater extent than it did in Elori, and he partly wished that he had never opened his big mouth on board that freighter. He also grudgingly recognized that had he never accepted that blasted job on Alderaan, then he wouldn't be halfway across the galaxy, inviting danger with a beckoning hand. But then again, he wouldn't have happened across Elori, and with that, a possible reconnection with someone his heart secretly coveted: Yustan.

This caused him to instinctively jostle her memory quickly to a side, trying to heave his thoughts back to reality.

In front of him, Elori had quickened her strides to a half-jog, apparently eager to find the root of this new incident. He followed her line of sight as she gazed up into the night sky, her eyes perceiving large curls of billowing smoke, stemming from a reddish glow below. For now, the source of the blaze was hidden behind a thin line of trees and brick wall about eight-feet high. Atton's walk broke into a run to catch up with his companion, and as they both headed around the corner, they finally caught sight of the conflagration.

He walked beside Elori, his eyes entranced by the small inferno, and said, "Please tell me this isn't the senator's place,"

Her shoulders drooped, and that was response enough for him.

"What the hell went on here?" he asked, partly to himself.

A helpful bystander neared herself to Atton and spoke. "Senator Sonum's home caught fire about an hour ago," she volunteered. "Normally they'd have been able to have the situation under control by now, but they're saying the flames are tolerant – too tolerant – for fire suppressants."

"Who're you?" asked Atton, if a little rudely.

The woman was not taken aback. Instead, she smiled sadly and offered out her hand. "Brynn Katimnai. Med-tech. They say it's not safe for us to go in yet. I would be inclined to agree, but it's hard to. Considering that there still may be people alive in there." She nodded towards the burning house.

Atton inclined his head, noticing the medical equipment placed on the grass behind the woman. He blinked his eyes, as a slow realization conceived itself in his mind. Turning his attention to the pyre that blazed several yards in front of him, the med-tech's words echoed in his thoughts. Too tolerant for fire suppressants. No civilized home utilized that kind of energy. Of the fuel or electricity that was appropriated, engineers often made doubly-sure that a possible explosion could soon be quelled by safety instruments provided to the homeowner. And if that tactic failed, then it could certainly be eradicated by individuals pertinent to this kind of emergency.

This kind of crisis seemed displaced from normalcy, or at least, from everyday accidents.

He placed a hand on Elori's shoulder, breaking her hypnotic gaze towards the pyre. "I have a bad feeling about this," he ventured.

"Lower your voice," she urged.

Acquiescing, he continued. "I don't think this was coincidence," and on seeing her puzzled expression, elaborated. "I spoke to the med-tech over there – she said they've been trying to put the fire out for an hour." He watched as Elori's lips parted slightly in alarm. "I know. Look, Elori, my gut – which fails me pretty rarely – is telling me that this whole thing may have been deliberate."

She turned her attention back to the frantic scene. "I don't think someone knew we were coming..."

He shook his head. "No, that's not it. What I mean is, you said this senator may have been involved in something, right? What if the people who she used to work with got paranoid? Maybe they took this opportunity to snuff her out."

"That would mean that she already spoke with someone about it," she deduced.

"Maybe. But really...there's no telling what happened," Atton frowned, unaware that his apprehensions were quite noticeable. "We should get gone from this place. We don't belong here anymore and we don't know what happened."

Elori's face darkened, even by the glow from the flames. It didn't seem right and she felt cheated. First by James, when he had denied her the knowledge to her past so many months ago, and now by this mockery of a bonfire. She had clung to Sonum as her one link to the conspiracy that the Jedi had brought to pass. And now that Sonum seemed lost to her and to this world, she found it tremendously difficult to relinquish her grip on what could have been.

If something insists on being, on living, came a voice in her mind, then perhaps we should give it an audience. For that voice may be the cry of the dead, demanding justice, demanding truth. If blinded, we remain, then perpetuate a lie and prolong the stay of evil, is what we are party to. No more than servants to darkness have we become.

Hearing the wisdom of Yura was all she needed to make her decision.

She looked at Atton, a grim expression on her face. "If we don't know what happened, then we need to find out."

"Are you out of your mind?!" yelped Atton.

He struggled to keep up with her. He was partly jogging and partly walking, in a ludicrous attempt to avoid undue attention. The back of the senator's home was devoid of a large crowd, but there were still a handful of curious spectators about.

"Seriously," hissed Atton trying not to be too loud, "...this has got be one of the stupidest things I've done!"

"Well I'm sure that if you did a little more thinking, you could easily top it," threw back Elori.

"And just how are we supposed to get in?" he asked, doggedly attempting to dissuade her from her intentions.

Elori finally stopped jogging and safely away from the line of sight of onlookers, she pointed ahead of her. Atton gazed in the general direction of her gesture, and saw nothing but a brick wall, in front of which lay several deciduous trees. Impatient, he looked back at her and shrugged, his hands held hapless in midair.

"No, look," stressed Elori, pointing again.

Squinting, his eyes surveyed the landscape and as they began to grow accustomed to the darkness, he discerned a break in the wall. In between the narrow gap sat something...which he quickly recognized to be a gate.

"How'd you know it would be there?" he asked, his mouth ajar.

"Every politician's little palace has more than one entrance. You of all people ought to know that. There's the publicized entrance and then...there's your dingy little back door." she said, obviously quite pleased with herself.

"That's great but...have you forgotten about security? This place has gotta be decked with it!"

"Oh come on, Atton. Just take a look." Elori nodded in the direction of the house; sections of it still ablaze. "I doubt they're going to send anyone in there."

"Yet here we are," said Atton, his senses still ringing alarm bells, "Going right into the demon's ass!"

Elori's eyes shone in the darkness; Atton's misery and anxiety a stark contrast to her animated visage. "It's okay. Really. All we have to do is find the security recordings, download them onto a datapad, and – "

" – morph into charred corpses!" interrupted Atton.

Elori shoved Atton gently. "Come on, you've been in worse situations before, haven't you?"

"...not of my own making, no!" He cast another glance at the senator's home. "We're walking into a death trap, Elori! My number one rule to survival: never bloody put yourself in harm's way!"

Her face grew serious and her gaze turned downwards. It was as if she had suddenly realized something. "You're right. I have no right to risk lives on account of my own agenda,"

Atton nodded, sighing in relief. Finally. Persuasion may have been difficult, but she had ultimately seen the light.

After a long deliberated breath, she looked back up at him. "I'll go by myself. Have you got any weapons?"

Two small service pistols with laser sights were all that Atton could muster up. Well, that and the honour of his presence, mused Elori. It brought a small smile to her lips. Perhaps his integrity was salvageable after all.

They had each devised that the best mode of operation would be if they split up. Intially, of course, they intended to perform a cursory examination of what portions of the large house were left intact, and thus, deduce which structures would prove sturdy enough to withstand their weight.

The pair skittered across the lawn in the darkness, and entered through a broken window. As he cautiously made his way into the house, Atton threw a glance behind him, where safety lay, and muttered a silent prayer to himself. It was a prayer he had sometimes heard prisoners and his own captives murmur, and although he was oblivious to which deity was acknowledged, he fervently hoped that that deity took pity on him nonetheless.

The room they had entered was much darker, and there were no signs of flames or smoke. Atton breathed a small sigh of relief. Looking about him, he saw the dull glow of a muted lamp coming from across a corridor to their right. He strode quietly in that direction, with Elori following close behind.

They soon arrived at a much larger room, its corners lined with sofas and chairs. A glass coffee table lay at its center, with a fireplace and its mantle integrated into the wall. The place seemed quite desolate now and Elori imagined that at a previous time, it must have been quite cozy and beautiful. Certainly, the senator appeared to have good taste. Had good taste, she reminded herself.

"I take it this isn't the security room," whispered Atton.

She moved forward slowly, surveying the area. Aside from the corridor through which they had entered, there appeared to be two other passages. As she investigated both, she heard Atton fumbling with something in the background. She turned and saw him trying to pry open a box attached to the wall. The lid apparently held fast, but with some firm persuasion, it came loose in Atton's hand at the cost of a loud metallic clang.

Elori winced and spun around. She jerked her hand in the air, signaling for him to be silent. Atton beckoned for her to come to him.

"Will you please be quiet?!" she hissed.

"What? It's not like there's anyone in here. The only thing we have to worry about is being served as crème brûlѐe for dessert,"

"Atton..." began Elori, and quickly gave up. Time was not on their side, and starting a heated debate surely wouldn't help. "What is it?"

He held up two pieces of oddly shaped metal. "Comm links." He nodded in the direction of the container he had just opened. "Emergency box has also got a flashlight. Do you want it?"

"Just the one?" she asked. He nodded. "You take it. Here, give me one of the comm. links. They'll come in handy though. Thanks. And next time, please be quiet?" He nodded again. "Have you got your pistol? Are they both charged?"

Atton gave her a sardonic look, as if to suggest that she certainly held him in low esteem.

"Okay, good." she responded.

"Just who are you expecting anyway?" he asked.

And then, just as if on cue, she heard soft thumps coming from above them. This was not the groaning of wood or bending metal, it was the distinctive sound of feet walking across the floor. Elori stared at Atton, her eyes wide.

"I heard it too," he said, his voice barely audible. "You know, as much as I hate to say it, I don't think we're alone in here. I don't suppose you think the senator's still alive, do you?"

She shook her head. "This is where we split up, Atton. You go look for the security room. Once you get the files, for heaven's sake don't dawdle, get out. I'll meet you outside."

"What're you going to do?" he asked.

"I have a sneaking suspicion that our arsonists are still around," she replied.

"Oh, terrific."

"Be careful," she urged, placing a hand on his shoulder. She started walking backwards towards the second corridor. "Use the comm. links, okay? And don't try to be too brave!"

Atton frowned as he nodded. He never considered courage as one of his strong suits, but his desire for survival certainly was.

As Elori crept up the stairs, she would pause every now and again, straining to listen for anything out of the ordinary. In this part of the house, unlike the rest, the sounds of the flames ravaging their surroundings could be heard. The noises of structures exerting themselves to maintain their positions were becoming more evident. And these sounds did nothing to aid her sense of hearing. She could only hope that her fear came needlessly to her, and that she had misconstrued the groaning cries of the house to be that of someone's footfalls.

A small part of her grew nervously excited, and urged her – like a child tugging on the skirt's hem of her mother – to stretch out with her feelings. Use the Force, it seemed to say. But a majority of her person remained stubbornly resilient to this idea. If it had abandoned her on the commandment of the Council years ago, and she had survived without its aid thus far, then she certainly had neither the taste nor the use for it now.

As Elori neared the landing of the stairway, the corner of her eye caught the barest glimpse of movement. Her impulse pushed for an investigation into the activity, but she had more faith in her instinct, and it warned her to hide given the quickest opportunity. She saw a wall to her right that reached halfway up to the ceiling. That will do, she decided.

Crouching, she made her way alongside it, using the wall for cover, pulling out the service pistol as she did so. As she pulled into a small room, her eyes sought desperately for a place to conceal her person, and quickly found what they were looking for in a moderately-sized cabinet against the wall. Almost as soon as she had screened herself from view, she heard the soft sounds of someone approaching.

Seconds passed by, and the sound stopped. Just as soon as she was prepared to peer around the safety of her cabinet, the noise of light rattling and shuffling took its place. Elori couldn't take it anymore. Being shielded from the sight of her presumed-enemy was hard enough – her thighs began to burn from the crouch, but being unable to see them was more than she could bare. She peeked around the corner of her little nook and saw nothing.

But the shuffling still persisted.

And what's more, she recognized, it was coming from in front of her. In this very room.

Her heartbeat quickened. She saw no reasonable explanation for this quandary, and quite flummoxed, she had half a mind to surprise this intruder with a swift blow to his chest.

That is, if she could see his chest.

How on earth could someone walk about, in her line of sight too, without being seen, she wondered? It was almost as if they were wearing...stealth generators.

She smiled grimly in realization. Now that we know the secrets to your devilry, she told herself, all we have to do is find out why.

Elori held the pistol in the palm of her hand, and recalling something that she had learned in the field of battle (when dealing with stealth enemies), she displaced the laser targeting device – used to help direct the user's aim to its mark – from its barrel. And slowly, with her hand hidden and low to the ground, she shone the small instrument in front of her. The pinpoint of red light searched dutifully across the room, until it came upon a fragment of space that seemed to disobey the laws of physics.

Here, the light almost seemed to split, causing its nearest surroundings to bend every which way.

Grinning broadly, Elori wasted no time in pulling out her weapon and firing in the direction of the laser. The pistol let out a small twang as it fired, and proceeding it, she heard a groan and a thud. Rising carefully from her hiding place, she watched in grim silence as the form of a human materialized before her as the stealth generator's abilities deteriorated. She bent over his form and to ensure that she finished what she had begun, delivered a quick blow to the side of his head.

She stared at the intruder in dawning recognition. Nothing of his visage, save for his closed eyes, could be seen. His head was draped in tightly wound, black, shrouded clothing that served to match the rest of his darkened attire. In his gloved hand, he held a menacing-looking double-bladed vibrosword.

"There'll be no more of that," muttered Elori to herself, as she grabbed the weapon and tossed it to a far corner of the room. She quickly removed his generator belt, flinging that aside where it could not be easily found as well. It was then that she seemed to notice the fallen man for the second time, as words from recent memory came to her.

They're masked – they are. By a veil of black cloth.

Reese, she realized. Those were his very words. His warnings.

Bloody hell, she thought. Please don't tell me these nightmares actually exist? But no, he's a man, isn't he?

Unable to contain her curiousity any longer, and with the immediate urge to dispel any of Reese's supernatural imaginings, she bent over and tore the cloth away from the man's face.

In a mixture of disgust and amazement, she recoiled, bringing her hand to her mouth. The man's face bore an ashen hue. His nose, or what she believed to be his nose, was nothing but two slanting slits, and his mouth – now that made her shudder all the more – seemed as if it were stitched together by a cruel seamstress.

Her hands grew icy, and she found herself trembling involuntarily. Perplexed and in shock, she moved about the small room in confusion, unwittingly knocking an object to the floor. It bounced against the wall and hit the ground with a resounding crash.

The noise shattered the silence around her and quickly brought her to her senses. She wanted nothing more than to get the security files, Atton, and the hell away from this place.

Then suddenly, as if in response to her awakening, she heard a voice coming from the hallway outside the room. But this time it wasn't murky or muddled. It was clear and concise, a voice that emanated from the lips of its issuer with a distinct clarity. "Go see to it! We've bungled enough of this as it is!"

Elori shuffled about from one foot to the next. She half-wanted to run through the hallway, down the flight of stairs in an attempt at frantic escape. But no, the more sensible part of her instructed, here was her chance for knowledge. Knowledge of an enemy she now realized she knew little about.

Making her decision, she paused at the entrance to the corridor listening. This time, there were no footsteps. Biting away at her lower lip, she strained to hear more.

The explosion came from below her, and while it stemmed from another part of the house, its force was powerful enough to knock Elori off her feet. For several moments, she felt as if the world was twisting and turning, when finally it graced her acknowledgement by rushing up to meet her.

Elori shielded her face as she hit the floor, and intuitively curled herself up into a foetal position. She felt the hot blast of smoke blow dangerously close to her, and sucked in what breathable air she could. She tried to ignore the protests of her joints and muscles. The fall had pained her immensely, but nothing appeared to be severely damaged. She bided her time, listening fearfully to the sounds of creaking and splitting wood. Finally, as the series of eruptions ceased, she began to crawl, looking up every now and again towards an opening to safety.

Her environment seemed to be ablaze, and to add to her growing panic no exit was in sight. The smoke was thick and heavy, and as she crept along the floor, it grew denser. Coughing, she realized that this was not the route to security, and turned around. As she made her way in the opposite direction, she heard a soft chiming coming from within the pocket of her jacket.

The comm. link, she realized!

Yanking it into her grip, she tried to speak but let loose a shower of coughs instead. Eventually, she managed to talk, albeit in a shaken voice. "Atton!" she cried, "Where...are you?"

"Not so loud!" she managed to hear him say. "There was an explosion," he paused momentarily, " – there was an explosion and there's someone in the house,"

"I know. Have you got the security files?" asked Elori.

"Yes, but – "

Elori allowed herself a small moment of relief. At least one of her goals had been accomplished. "Get out of the house, Atton. Quickly!"

" – but there's someone here,"

She halted crawling, and in a voice seeped in dread, she spoke. "Where?"

"Outside this room. Or in it. I can't say. Blast it, I don't know!" His voice seemed urgent, panicked.

She coughed again. The fumes were beginning to have their effect on her lungs. "...stealth generators," she managed to mutter.

"What?"

She spoke louder this time. "They have stealth generators! Unhook your laser sights! You'll be able to tell where they are If you shine the lasers on them,"

"Copy that, wish me – " and with that, he was cut off.

"Atton? Atton?!" she yelled into the comm. link. It was no use. He was gone.

Elori Mataki had no choice but crawl through the safest path chance had granted her. The going was slow, but steady, and within the span of a several minutes she saw an opening which she perceived to be the same window they had entered from. There was no smile on her face, however, as her thoughts wandered back again to the fate of her friend.

She paused, about ready to flee the burning house, when she turned back. He hadn't abandoned her when she had made her decision. This whole errand, this entire predicament served her own ends, not his own. Sure, he wanted to seize any chance he could to see Yustan again, but he had followed her into peril faithfully – as a true friend would. If there was a chance that the cocksure miscreant was still alive, then it was reason enough for her to return to ensure his safety.

With an inexorable expression, she trampled her way through the debris and smoke back into the house for a second time.

The fumes were less dense here, the walls had served their purpose well – protecting these rooms from the series of explosions. Grateful, she made her way through several passageways, peering into rooms for any sign of her companion. Upon reaching the end of the areaway, she caught the sound of muffled voices. Cautiously stepping towards the door, she made use of a rectangular glass mural that provided her an acceptable, if hazy, view of the antechamber which the door was an entrance to.

While the glass was thick, coloured, and could hardly be considered clear, the sound of the invaders' voices rang quite lucidly through it.

"We shall stop searching. For the moment. We have lingered here far too long, and while I'm confident of your abilities, I prefer caution to ambition. Have you found any sign of the intruders or your comrades?" Elori recognized the voice as that which she had heard earlier – right before the explosion.

A guttural sound emanated from the figure beside the woman.

"No matter. The Senator is dead, and while part of our aims have been achieved, the other half remains unfulfilled. She mentioned nothing to me of a journal. What? Of course I made sure. There is still her son, however. Perhaps he would be more willing."

Elori watched in silence as the woman stretched out with her foot and touched a crumpled sack at her feet. "A pity, too. She was a fighter – our dear Sonum was."

It took Elori a moment to realize that it was the deceased body of the senator who the woman toed with such disrespect. Her face glowered with anger as the female continued to speak. "We shall proceed as planned. These events change nothing. I will dispatch him to Ries, and in the meantime, I shall plan to grace Isael with my presence. Come, there is much to be done."

And then, leaving the senator's corpse on the floor, she watched as the woman strode away from her, with her invisible companion (or companions, thought Elori) out of the foyer. Elori readied herself to pursue the party in stealth when a comm. link chimed in the palm of her hand, causing her to nearly leap out of her skin.

"Elori?" came the familiar voice.

She gasped in relief and momentarily forgot about the woman and the senator. "Atton! Where are you? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," he reassured, his voice sounding tinny through the communication device. "Look, I'm outside and they're saying the house is about ready to come down. Wherever you are, you'd better get out quick."

"Have you got the files?" she asked for the second time.

His voice sounded exasperated yet urgent. "Yes, I've got your precious files!"

"Atton, look, I found the Senator. And I saw who did this. I have to follow them. Take the security files and – "

Atton quickly cut her off. " – this isn't the time for your damned bravado, you idiot! The house is coming down! You'll lose it all if you don't get out now!"

Elori paused, deliberating. She wanted to follow this woman, whoever she was. Circumstance demanded that this mystery be unraveled. And yet, caution warned her that going up against a foe she knew naught about was foolish. Which may prove that all her efforts would be insignificant, just as Atton had said. If she held her cards with patience, she could get to safety, view the security recordings and decide which hand to play. Recognizing that this was the most logical and the more secure compromise, she was still angered by having to make the decision and thumped her fist against the wall in frustration.

"Okay. I'm coming out." she said, her voice a monotone.