Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to George Lucas/Disney. Anything you don't recognize probably also belongs to them.

Perception

Luke awoke.

Regaining consciousness in unknown places was REALLY starting to get old.

He looked around in confusion, but didn't see anything aside from scattered beams of light in a dark room. Warily he shifted so that he could roll onto his side, a move he immediately regretted. His nerve endings had apparently been waiting for him to move even the slightest bit, because now the centre of his chest felt like it was being seared. He hissed as he prepared to wait out the agony that pulsed through him in waves, but just as abruptly as it had begun it stopped. Luke let out a gust of air in relief before he attempted to move again, though this time he was much more hesitant. Instead of any pain from his chest though, this time the side of his head throbbed unexpectedly. He reached up delicately and touched the tender spot on the side of his head in confusion.

Wasn't that where he had been hit in initial the ambush? Had he been injured again?

After several ginger movements, he was able to stand easily enough, so without much hesitation he made his way over to one of the sources of light.

It was one of the Alliance members' portable lamps.

Suddenly wary of what he would find, he slowly picked up the light and shone it around him, revealing several visibly uninjured Alliance members. He took off one of his gloves before he held his hand under the closest one's nose, and to his relief he felt soft breaths. Luke stepped back and shone the light around him again, looking for the exit to the throne room, but...

His light settled on a large and very familiar blast-door.

What in the HELLS?

"Bravo Group, status check," the voice of the Lieutenant from the ground troops crackled through Luke's comlink with a hint of disguised worry, startling Luke. His hand clapped to his ear searchingly.

How did he get his comlink back?

Sounds of discomfort and confusion began to echo around the large room as the rest of the group regained consciousness. Luke looked around the poorly lit space in bewilderment, "What..."

If his missing comlink was back then…

Luke frantically worked to pull up his numerous sleeves - which didn't seem quite so necessary now - until he could see his chronometer, and for a moment he simply stared at the innocently shining numbers.

The dark haired man beamed and lunged forward to wrap Luke into a hug, "Oh man, it's good to see your face! Where have you been?! We were looking all over for days!"

Only minutes had passed since the ambush.

How much had even been real?!

Disbelief and frustration pulsed through him, but the addictive warmth he had come to expect with it didn't come.

To his horror, disappointment washed through him.

Oh no...

"Bravo Group, what is your status?" the Lieutenant demanded again.

Irys' voice cut across the room hoarsely, professional despite its weakness, "There was some sort of ambush, Sir. We were about to do a headcount to make sure everyone is still here."

"Clear," the Lieutenant responded shortly.

Irys sighed weakly, "Commander Skywalker, are you there?"

Was THIS even real? For all he knew he was still in that room trying uselessly to complete an impossible task as everyone was killed off.

Anger at his own weakness snaked through him, and this time he felt the barest tingles of warmth.

"Commander?" Irys asked again, drawing his attention away from himself.

He grit his teeth.

At this point, what did it even matter what was real? It didn't change his yearning for the absent warmth.

"I'm here," he snapped irritably.

"Oh good," she said, sounding oddly relieved despite his attitude. "If you could start a count?" she added, her tone the most hesitant he had ever heard from her.

Guilt. Why had he taken his frustration out on her?

Luke shook his head and refocused on what was going on around him. "One. I've got a head injury," he projected with a professionalism he didn't feel. Irys followed suit with 'two,' and a short explanation that she felt weak. The rest of the group continued on in sequence with similar statuses to Irys save for a few minor injuries.

Hope rose in him as the numbers increased, but much to his discomfort they came up one short.

The female "guide" was gone, and he wasn't surprised.

So that much had been real.

"It's the guide," Luke bit out flatly. "I'm pretty sure she attacked me," he added.

Not a lie, but certainly not everything he knew.

"Okay," Irys responded calmly, before she keyed up on their comlink. "Bravo to Base."

"Go ahead for the Base, I'll relay the message," a different voice answered, and Luke tensed sharply in disbelief.

Wedge.

"Everyone is accounted for except for the guide. The Commander says he thinks she was part of the ambush. There may be nothing worth finding down here," Irys explained. "None of our injuries appear to be life-threatening, but everyone appears to be weak. We may have been hit with some sort of knock-out gas."

Was Wedge REALLY alive?

The com was silent for a few moments, before Luke's wingman spoke again, and relief swept through Luke, "Start making your way back here. The directions she gave you were probably fake, and several of our people back at the base have gone missing. Alpha group appears to have made it safely to the communications room, and are working on breaching its security door."

"Yes, sir," Irys responded, and then turned to address the group. "You heard him. Pull yourselves together as quickly as you can so we can get back to the others."

A smattering of "Yes, ma'ams" and "Yes, sirs" echoed in the large room, before she made her way over to Luke. Her eyes flashed the eerie green of a nocturnal being as she passed several of the scattered lights,

Luke looked at her intently as a thought tugged at him, "How well can you see in here?"

She grimaced, "Well enough, but the overhead lights they turned on were probably twice as bad for me because of it."

Luke frowned, "Did you see who else might have been part of the ambush before the lights turned on?"

She shook her head, "No. The people in our group were the only ones I could see."

A direct answer given without even the slightest hesitation that she had even elaborated on…

The truth then.

Luke's frown deepened; this was more proof that something abnormal had happened.

How much had been real!?

Luke twitched in frustration, before returned his attention Irys as she spoke.

"Do you think you can get that blast-door open, Skywalker?" she questioned thoughtfully as she looked at barrier that stood between them and their way back.

He followed her gaze to the massive door and frowned distractedly, "I'll have to take a look at the panel. Maru may have sabotaged it."

"Maru?" Irys asked, her sharp eyes searching his in the dark.

Luke suppressed his instinctive cringe at the slip so that it was little more than a twitch. Knowing the woman she had probably noticed anyway, but she didn't say anything. Instead she waited patiently for him to answer. He nodded in response, "That's what the guide went by."

"That's not what she introduced herself as," Irys responded with a piercing look.

Luke shrugged uncomfortably and turned away to start toward the blast-door.

Irys placed her clawed hand on his shoulder and gently turned him to face her, "Do you know what's happening here?"

Luke huffed out a single laugh, "No." Her concerned expression turned doubtful, and he began to laugh harder as he shook his head, "Seriously. I don't have a damn clue what's going on here."

He turned again to make his way toward the blast-door's control panel, and this time she didn't stop him.

=-.-=

Crix Madine had never seen anything like it. One second there was a roiling sandstorm that had been going on for hours and was still going strong, the next, all of the sand stopped its wild movements and fell from the sky like a solid wall of granules.

Completely and utterly unnatural.

"Sir, the sandstorm has stopped. What do we do?" one of the several officers monitoring the situation asked.

Crix ignored the unease that tried to crawl its way up his spine, "We have our orders. Until we have an idea of what's going on down there, we wait. The success of this mission now lies with them."

=-.-=

Wrenga Jixton, known mostly as Jix to the few that knew him personally (when he wasn't using an alias anyway), was having a very shitty week. Fortunately (or unfortunately depending on how he looked at it) that was something that he was more than accustomed to dealing with.

Also fortunate, was that talking his way out of being held at the business end of a blaster was another one of the many things-he-had-done-so-many-times-that-they-had-become-skills.

"Easy there ma'am," he said with a tasteful bit of nervousness added to his Corellian drawl (it had been awhile since he had used the accent of his upbringing, but it came back to him as easily as breathing). "Why don't you just lower that," he pointed carefully with one finger, so as not to spook her by moving his raised hands, "and we can talk this through."

"Why should I?" she spat, her own accent heavy with distrust. Her finger inched toward the inside of the trigger guard, "You attacked us the moment we breached the door!"

"Woaaah, calm down. I thought you were with those guys," he responded, adding a hint of desperation to his tone. If the planet hadn't been an ice cube he might have even been able to manage a nervous sweat to make it more authentic, but if his life were that easy he would have been a far blander individual.

"Those guys?" she asked, and the blaster finally dropped so that it was pointing at his gut instead of his face.

"Yeah! The freaky 'Return of the Clone Wars' guys," he exclaimed, and for once his bafflement was real, though he had to conceal his annoyance with the entire situation behind a nice layer of confusion.

Kriffing CLONES. The things he got signed up for sometimes...

Unsurprisingly the blaster dropped to point uselessly at the ground, "You survived their attack?" She glanced around at the strewn corpses of the group that had sent out the distress signal several days ago.

He grimaced and frowned, looking suitably ashamed of himself, "I'm not proud of it, but I hid. There were just too many of them. I dropped the security door once I knew they were gone."

Frankly he was just glad it was cold enough that the bodies didn't have the full pungent smell corpses usually carried after having been expired for so many days.

Her eyes gave him a searching once over, then she nodded and holstered the blaster, "Okay. Do you know what's wrong with the equipment?"

He allowed himself to visibly relax and shook his head, "Not a clue. They said something about a capacitor, but that doesn't really mean anything to me. I was just here for security. Not that I did a very good job of it," he smiled in self-depreciation.

Of course, they were going to find several important components ruined beyond repair, but at least they had bought his story. Killing them would have made the job much more annoying, and that would have put a damper on his day.

Jix watched, a deliberately unhelpful spectator, as he spoke easily of how absolutely grateful he was that they had come to rescue everyone. By the time they had given up on the communication console he had established himself as a well-meaning, if overly chatty, father of two that had left his wife and kids to fight the good fight against the currently acting governing body.

He also, in a rare moment that was almost as refreshing as it was adrenaline invoking, told the group his real name. Jix already knew there would be very little lying during this assignment after he had completed this introductory period, so he had to do what he could to establish his identity while he still safely could. After all, one does not lie in the direct presence of a Force user unless absolutely necessary. It took far too much effort.

He was, of course, suitably morose when they realized the console was unsalvageable, but the group was happy to take him with them when they were told to regroup with the main forces.

He loved it when a plan came together, even if it only happened after a mess of unwanted improvisation.

=-.-=

Luke trailed quietly behind the group, with Irys keeping pace, as they reached the bunk room where the main group was waiting. He hadn't said much once he had finally fixed the panel and gotten the group moving again.

Fixing things had always been relaxing and easy for him, but now it seemed far more frustrating than it had ever been. Mistakes. Uncertainty where there used to be none. He just couldn't let himself go as easily as he had, and his temper lingered; not enough to be dangerous, but more than enough to disrupt his calm.

Irys had watched him with a hint of concern ever since she had woken up, and it had started to grate on his nerves until he wanted to snap at her just to get her to stop.

Wouldn'tBeAbleToStareAnymoreWhenHe...

He cut the increasingly exacerbated train of thought off (again) and mentally shook himself with disgust.

He made himself sick.

He took in a deep breath as he passed through the remains of the entrance to the housing unit that they had blasted open to gain entry. The lingering smell of used explosives dragged him back to the present and grounded him just in time for Wedge to lunge forward and wrap Luke in a hug that was so similar to the one that he had been given by the fake Wedge that it was scary.

How had they mimicked him so perfectly? Was it all in his head?

"Oh man, I was worried sick when a bunch of people disappeared. I thought you might have too," Wedge said as he dragged the smaller form of an amused looking Irys into the hug as well.

"Do you always hug people you've only met recently?" she questioned with a sly smile.

Wedge laughed with a wink, "Not really, but this seemed like a good enough reason."

Something inside Luke shifted slightly at the sight of their easy interaction, and he found himself laughing in amusement, "Leave the woman alone Wedge, she's been through enough without dealing with your antics."

Wedge was about to respond when he was cut off by Hobbie as he walked up to join their group.

"Have you told them yet, Wedge?" the obviously distressed pilot asked – his eyes blood-shot and puffy.

Wedge's good humour immediately drained from his expression, and took Luke's short-lived amusement with it as he noticed the man's eyes were in a similar state, "Not yet. I was just glad to see them back in one piece."

Luke felt the older man's grip loosen, and he and Irys stepped back. "What happened, Wedge? You said people disappeared. Was it more of the guys from the base?"

Wedge shook his head, and a sinking feeling began to settle in Luke's gut, "It wasn't just the people from the base this time. Eleven more of them are gone, but eight of our people are gone too." Luke felt the blood drain from his face as the man continued, "I don't know what to tell you, man. One minute we were waiting for the next check-in, the next we all woke up and people were missing. Even the bodies of the ones that died are gone." He shook his head, and Luke felt sick, "It's freaking crazy. I thought the Lieutenant was going to lose it if you guys didn't answer his second call." The man swallowed dryly, and his eyes looked suspiciously glassy, "Two of the Rogues are gone, Luke. We were talking about going to look for them after everyone got back."

"Who?" Luke asked, his voice rough with suppressed emotion.

"Dixie and Sila Kott," Wedge said, his expression grave, and Luke cursed. Dixie had always been a kind, soft-spoken person, and the new addition Sila had seemed nice enough even if she was slightly stand-offish. He doubted they would have left the others willingly...

"You could find them with your Jedi powers, right?" Hobbie interjected with such honest innocence that Luke's breath hitched. "Like you did when we first got here?"

The LAST thing he wanted to do right now was use the Force, but…

"I can try," he said hesitantly, and the hope his words brought into their eyes made him feel nauseous.

Luke closed his eyes, and tried to shuffle everything that had happened to the side and calm himself. He ignored the others as best he could despite their distressingly high expectations, and after a few calming breaths, he reached tentatively for the Force. It responded warily as if it wasn't sure of his intentions, so he fought with his frustration and worked to calm himself further. Slowly, it began to respond more eagerly, but distantly Luke felt unsettled.

It felt… different… like the dynamic he had with it had changed.

Hesitantly he tried to spread his senses away from himself, but at first he was met with resistance. Luke pleaded silently with the invisible energy, and after a moment he could feel it decide to allow him to do what he wanted. Uneasily he allowed his awareness to drift away from him. He was immediately struck by the Force presence of everyone in the crowded room and he flinched slightly, even as he worked to move past them.

Further and further he pushed, searching single-mindedly for anyone else that might have been nearby, but he found no one, and he was reaching the end of his range.

Surely this wasn't the limit of his reach… The others were counting on him.

The hopeful expressions on Hobbie and Wedge's face seemed to haunt him, so he ground his teeth and tried harder. Frustration began to claw at his gut, as repeated attempts to look further failed. The Force caressed him, even as it felt like it was restraining him, and it rankled against his nerves. Instinctively he fought against the restrictive feeling.

Why was it stopping him? Did it want him to fail?

Without thought anger sparked in his chest, and he almost snarled aloud as he tore against what was holding him back until it was ripped away and replaced with…

A distant part of him was horrified by realization.

… hot caresses from Dark flames. His eyelids fluttered at the unexpected rapture, and he breathed out a shuddering breath as his senses expanded until they encompass the entire facility; tunnels, and sunken cult ruins included. Vertigo rocked his frame from the sheer magnitude, but he refused to release his hold until he had checked everything.

He refused to be that weak.

His anger helped to ground him, and he continued his search doggedly despite the growing sickness he felt from his increased perception.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothingnothingnothing.

He nearly came to a halt when he finally felt something different as he reached the level of the ruins (real, the ruins were real), but then he pushed ahead with determination. After several moments he realized what he felt was like a weaker version of the Nexus, but intermixed with it was something familiar. Like a hound on a scent, he tried to find the source of the familiar presence, but to his frustration he quickly realized it permeated everything in the ruins, intertwined with the Nexus' Dark, anchorless presence. He would need to look more closely.

Distantly he realized his body had collapsed into a kneeling position as the confusing mixture of addictive warmth and vertigo continued to rise with his relentless exertion, but he continued his efforts to narrow the source down anyway.

Just a bit more and he would find the origin…

Foreign hands lowered his body to the floor even as Luke fixated in on the familiar presence; no, presences, he corrected himself. He could feel hints of Dixie's shy personality, and Sila's slightly rough one mixed in with the ghosts of familiar presences that he only vaguely knew from the mission. He gently reached for Dixie's presence and tried to prize it away from the Nexus so that he could follow it to its source, but after a few gentle tugs he saw what the problem was just as the entire Nexus began to scream through the Force in reaction to what he had attempted.

The familiar presences were stretched beyond their limits and inextricably tangled and melded with the Nexus.

Ice seemed to flood through his veins as he realized the implications of what he had sensed. His disbelief merged with the sheer agony radiating out of the Nexus and snapped him back to his body like a rubber-band. He was barely able to stop himself from vomiting due to the intense whiplash as he gasped raggedly, and white noise roared through his ears.

Dead. They were all dead, joined with the hundreds of deceased that made up the sprawling Nexus that was native to the planet, and without a focal-point to destroy he didn't think he could free them.

"Kriffing hells," he choked out. His eyes watered as he tried weakly to sit up, only to have numerous hands force him back down.

"Calm down, Skywalker," Irys' voice said soothingly, and distantly he felt what might have been real concern radiate off of her, before pain shot through him and he snatched his Force presence back to himself. She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth in concerned annoyance, "You've really overdone it. Come on, deep, slow breaths. Don't strain yourself."

She was right, he knew, but he shook his head again and forced himself to speak, "The others they're… they're…" he swallowed dryly, almost afraid to say it, but they needed to know. "They're dead."

He heard numerous gasps and curses, and it was like when he had thought he had killed Wedge all over again, only this time no one would think to accuse him. But…

"Everything is real here, even if it's not. Remember that."

It didn't take much to realize that all of the newly missing dead had been killed by The Marauder while he had been focused on destroying the holocron that housed the more powerful Nexus.

(Not counting the three HE had killed)

If he had only been able to destroy it faster… If he had only had better control over his emotions… If he hadn't been so weak…

Maru had warned him. He should have known. Shouldn't have gotten his hopes up when he sensed those familiar presences.

"I'm sorry," he whispered weakly, as gentle hands finally helped him to sit up.

"It's not your fault," Wedge said in what he probably hoped was a calm voice.

Luke shook his head and looked down, "Yes it is, I should have–"

He was cut off by a claw-tipped finger as it hooked under his chin and forced him to meet green eyes, "Listen to me Skywalker. You did everything you could have possibly done in this situation. This is not your fault, do you understand me?" she snapped firmly and something in her sharp intelligent eyes made him realize that somehow she understood that something outside of being ambushed had happened, and that he had been involved with it.

And she still said it wasn't his fault.

Some of the knots in his tangled emotions loosened, and he took in a deep breath, before he nodded, "Yeah…"

"Good," she smiled, revealing something closer to her normal predatory smile. "We're going to start heading toward the bunk room closer to the exit. The base's communications console was a no-go, so we're going to wait out whatever's left of the sandstorm. Hopefully the tarps you had us put up held out, so we'll be able to contact the 'Luck and get off of this planet."

"Okay," Luke nodded, and made to get up only to be pushed back into his seated position.

"Someone's going to have to carry you. There's no way you're walking after that stunt," Irys scolded.

Luke scowled in frustration, but nodded in acquiescence, "Fine."

"I can carry him," an unfamiliar male voice said in a very familiar Corellian accent.

"Good, we'll go get our stuff together," Irys said crisply, and gestured for the others to get moving.

Luke turned and looked up to see unfamiliar scruffy features framed by unwashed brown hair pulled back into a low ponytail. Luke frowned, "I don't remember you being with the group we found."

Something sparked in the man's deep brown eyes and he shook his head, "You've got a good memory. No, your people found me in the communications room." He frowned unhappily, "No one else survived."

Luke grimaced, "Ah. I don't think this mission is going to let us catch a break. At least you made it."

The man shrugged, looking uncomfortably, "I guess. I was just telling the people that found me that there were too many clones. I'm lucky I managed to stay out of it, but hiding isn't exactly noble."

"We all do things we aren't proud of to survive sometimes," Luke said in bitter understanding. He smiled wryly, "And since you're about to be carrying me, I guess I should introduce myself." He lifted his hand tiredly, "Lieutenant Commander Luke Skywalker at your service. If there's anything I can do for you when I'm not being treated like an invalid, let me know."

The man clasped his hand and shook it firmly, "Thank you, sir; I'll keep that in mind. My name's Wrenga Jixton, but people call me Jix." He smiled warmly and continued with a hint of friendly teasing in his tone, "I figure one syllable is easier to spit out when you're feeling lazy anyway, right?"

Luke snorted, "I suppose that's true enough." He looked around and noticed that most of the group was ready to go, "I guess there's no more putting it off…"

The man's features shifted into a crooked grin, "Looks like it." He bent down in front of Luke and as soon as Luke had his arms hooked securely around him, he felt the man's muscles shift under him as he hooked his arms under Luke's legs, and he rose to a standing position far more easily than Luke had anticipated.

Luke huffed out a tired laugh, "Stronger than you look."

The other man shrugged underneath Luke, shifting him until he was in a more comfortable position, "I blame the jacket. I don't think anyone could make this lumpy thing look good, but it's warm." As the man walked forward to join the group, he commented, "I can't wait to get back up in space on a proper ship. I think I would kill for a shower right now, I feel disgusting."

Already half asleep from exhaustion, Luke laughed deliriously, "I'll bet. You smell like the wrong end of a rancor."

"Hey! You didn't have to be so blunt about it!" The man exclaimed, and then muttered as an afterthought, "I don't think there's a good end of a rancor to smell anyway."

Luke snorted and yawned, "Sounds 'bout right."

As the group headed out, Luke was quickly lulled to sleep by Jix's smooth stride.

=-.-=

Jix felt the younger male slump against him, and adjusted him with well-practiced ease, careful not to jostle him awake. This wasn't the first time he'd had to carry someone and it certainly wouldn't be the last, but this really had been a fortuitous turn of events. It had almost been too easy for him to convince the group to allow him to carry the young Commander after he had helped them deal with his collapse and almost seizure-like symptoms.

Jix had watched passively to see what the others would do as the blonde's condition worsened, but at the first sign of a spasm panic had filled the eyes of the man the others called Wedge.

Within moments the black-haired man had yanked the others back fearfully, "Don't touch him!"

Jix watched as they muttered amongst themselves until the spasming male dropped to his knees before he decided it was high time he spoke up, "What in the seven hells is going on here and why aren't you doing anything about it?"

The group looked at him, obviously startled by his input, but Wedge spoke up defensively, "He's a Jedi."

Jix blinked, feigning surprise, before he shook his head, "I don't give a nerf's ass, he's clearly having seizures!" He moved to try and at least lay the male on the floor, only to have Wedge grab his arm.

"Don't," the man warned. "Last time he was having issues because of his powers, just touching him for a split-second shocked me hard enough to make my hand go numb for several minutes."

Jix scowled and looked at the shuddering male, then jerked his arm free from the male's grasp. He had seen this before, and it wasn't whatever the other man feared, "Whatever, if he shocks me he shocks me. I've still got to try."

Before any of the others could protest he moved forward and placed his hands on the blonde's shoulders without hesitation. Inwardly he snorted in amusement as the others couldn't help but gasp, then he focused on the shaking male and carefully lowered him to the ground. When he next saw their faces most of them looked ashamed. Only the single catlike being was watching him with a calculating expression (a bothan working hands-on with the Rebel Alliance was certainly different). He winked at her, and then turned back to check on the blonde as the seizure-like spasms finally subsided.

Carefully he turned the now ashen-skinned male on his side into the recovery position. When he had him at the right angle, he placed his hand on the side of his head, as if to adjust it, and carefully slid his thumb across his eyelid enough to raise it.

Jix's expression remained unchanged only due to years of practice. The male, barely older than a child, had the fading remnants of miniscule flecks of the nasty shade of yellow that he was VERY familiar with interspersed in his bright blue irises. He smoothly brushed the eyelid back down, and leaned back. If he hadn't known what to look for, he doubted he would have noticed, so small were the little flecks of unnatural colour, but this was something he hadn't been anticipating.

Before he had much time to think about any ramifications, the boy had jerked back into motion with a gasp before he had attempted to sit up, with his clear blue eyes wide and untainted. Now, not even twenty minutes later he was asleep on Jix's back. Jix smiled to himself. The young Skywalker was incredibly stubborn, and Jix knew that, had he wanted to, the Force user would have been able to stay awaked out of sheer willpower. If the younger man already felt safe enough to fall asleep riding on his back, then gaining his trust was going to be much easier than he had been warned.

All he had to do was make sure not to get caught in a lie, but that would be easy enough for him. After all, he knew how to deal with Force users.

It was his specialty.

AN: Hello again everyone! I hope you're enjoying yourself reading this as much as I am writing it (except editing… editing can suck on my left pinkie toe). As you can probably guess, we're about to shift gears as this arc comes to a close, so bear with me while I work on this next chapter. I need to make sure I know how I want to get where I'm going, since I'm not very good at structured outlining, and mostly just stick with mental (and somewhat nebulous) connect-the-plot. ^_^; Don't get me wrong, I have a general idea of what I want to happen and an order that I want it to happen in; I just leave a lot of room for maneuverability, and sometimes characters take my ideas and run off with them. I also want to make sure I don't forget any minute details I wanted to throw in at certain points.

Thanks~

- Laz