Author's Notes: Sorry about the delay to those of you reading this. Fall semester has begun and this is going to take a backseat to pretty much everything else in life. However, I have written quite a bit ahead, so you won't have to worry about regular updates. However, I'm going to be posting one every other week now, as opposed to once a week. It'll be easier that way. Maybe once I finish I'll go back to weekly, but for now this is how it's gotta be. So...yeah. Anyway, thanks for keeping up with this, your reviews are very welcome.

Another quick thing: It was mentioned that Xristos is similar to Jolee. That would be because he is similar, to be blunt. I briefly entertained using Jolee, but the two characters, though similar, differ philosophically, and I wanted to be able to just write whatever I wanted. With Jolee I would have had to work within the confines of his murky and somewhat inconsistent morality, and I didn't want to have to deal with that. So, I'll just say that they are different, but the similarities should be pretty obvious. Later on it'll get even more blatant. I hope that doesn't irritate anyone, but I didn't write Xristos simply to pad my OC numbers, I don't think that Jolee would have fit as well. Anyway, that's enough of that.

Chapter 7

The trio ran quickly up the canyon in pursuit of the thieves. Caius tried to heal himself as he ran and lessen the strain the jogging was putting him through. Just moments ago his body had been deprived of air, it was still adapting to breathing again. Running was not the proper remedy. However, he was forced to keep going in pursuit of Dustil and the thieves. HK's metallic joints clanked with each impact of his feet as he jogged leisurely along next to his master.

They lost visibility of their enemies in the canyon, forcing them to follow their light tracks or sounds. Dustil was much faster than Caius and had therefore gone ahead. After what seemed like a mile, Caius rounded a corner and found Dustil standing still in front of a gaping hole in the canyon wall. HK stopped beside him.

"They went inside that cave," Dustil said ominously.

"Statement: Then let us go after them."

Caius sighed, "This is a dangerous cave…we have to be careful."

"We don't have a choice," Dustil resolved. The three then entered the black abyss.

"What is it?" Allie asked no one and everyone. She had hid in the ship during the fighting and only after dared to come outside. She was concerned to see if Caius was okay. And the others too, she supposed. There were bodies all over the place, but the survivors were only interested in one of them: the corpse of their assailant that Elliott killed. It was the only body of their enemy that they had, the only one any of them had seen up close.

"It's damn ugly, that's what it is," Elliott said dryly.

Sergeant Whillem came closer and knelt next to the contorted corpse. He and two other members of the excavation team were the only survivors of the initial crew. He began unwrapping the ornate head garb that the alien wore. Its black robe was strung together in a very complex way, making it difficult to detach parts of it. As they tried to dissect it they found underneath the cloth was a suit of strong yet flexible armor, just as dark in pigment as the robes. Its headdress was simpler, as it seemed to consist of a hood with a veil hanging down in front of it that allowed visibility only from the inside. Whillem cut through the fabric with his field knife and then tore the hood off.

Allie recoiled in horror. All the rest were shocked at its appearance as well, though they tried their best to shield it. Even Elliott twitched at the monster's profound hideousness.

It looked like it had once been human…or similar. Looking past the screaming agony of death on the monster's face, they could discern distinctly human qualities within it. Its nose was very man-like, as was its gaping mouth. The teeth were yellow and rotting from within. What sickened them most was the pale discoloring of the thing's skin. It was sickly white with blotches of purplish blue bruises all over it. Sometimes the skin folded up where there seemed to be large growths. There was a particularly large one on its right temple.

Allie had her hand over her mouth, she said, "Oh, please cover it up. I don't want to look at it anymore."

Whillem obliged.

Bastila still looked at the monster, even after it was re-covered. "You don't think," she said, and then looked at Xristos, "a Sith?"

He shrugged, "I suppose. That would explain why they're after the map."

"Sith? Map?" asked Whillem. "What does that mean? I thought command wasn't telling us the whole story when they sent us here—but this is huge. The Sith are dead, aren't they?"

"Correction," Elliott began, "this Sith is dead. The others ran off with your box."

"But Sith? How?" he asked.

"They're real Sith," Bastila answered, "not Revan's imitations. It's the…species."

"What are they doing here?"

Bastila exhaled, "I don't know. I would guess that it would have to depend on whether or not that artifact you found is a map of some sort. We thought it may have coordinates to some parts of the Sith Empire. Apparently we were right, as they seem to think it's important enough to come out of hiding in order to stop us from getting it. They were probably keeping tabs on the planet—or spying on us. Even worse, maybe their strong enough to come out of hiding and investigate one of their old worlds. Whatever the cause, once you found an artifact of theirs, they decided they needed it back."

"Come out of hiding?" the sergeant asked, still stupefied.

Xristos answered for Bastila, "They've been in exile for thousands of years. We don't know why, but they're in hiding. Korriban was, according to our…sources…an old Sith world. A real one, like this species here." He pointed at the dead thing. "Presumably there were some still hiding on the planet, observing us. Or maybe they were, as Bastila said, investigating. That explains how they'd know what we were doing."

"This is a little much," said Whillem.

Allie changed the direction of the conversation, "Shouldn't we be helping Caius and Dustil?" she asked.

"We can't risk them attacking again and getting the ship," Xristos said. "If they destroy the Hawk then our mission would be the last of our worries."

"Still," added Bastila, "she's right. They might get ambushed. I'll go after them. The rest of you can protect the ship, right?"

Xristos looked around. He would have Whillem, two archeologists, a pistol-weilding drunkard, Allie, and a trashcan to defend the ship. "Hmm," he murmured, "I suppose we'll manage. Go make sure we get the artifact back."

The cave was dark and musty. Caius remembered having to slay dozens of those infernal bat creatures during his last visit, but he saw that their attackers had already gutted the caves of life. The monsters' bodies lay scattered throughout the cave.

HK used his various tracking instruments to follow the thieves, leading the way through the slimy cave. He brought them to the narrow land bridge that connected the back end of the cavern to the rest of it, a treacherously thin pass. Somehow, deep down, Caius knew that he would be led back here.

"Statement: We must cross the bridge," HK said plainly.

Caius did not speak, but the trio moved solemnly over the bridge. He held his breath as he tottered nervously over the vast expanse below him. Dustil did the same as he followed, but HK seemed to be unaffected.

As they made it to the other side, HK once again took the lead and took Caius right the to the very spot he was dreading.

"Statement: They went in here," HK said. The droid stopped in front of the small, but unnatural door that was crammed underneath tons of rock.

Caius gulped. Dustil began moving towards the tomb, but Caius stopped him. "Dustil," he said, "this place is not natural. It's filled with dark energy. You'll see things in there. Probably from your past, maybe some from your future. But whatever you see…it's not real. Don't listen to them."

"What?" Dustil asked nervously, "are there ghosts?"

"Yes, and they know you personally. But they're not real Dustil. Do you understand? Don't let them tell you what to do."

"I…okay," the young man said nervously.

The Exile turned to his droid, said, "HK, you're going to have to be our eyes in there. If we start acting irrationally, stop us. If we are talking to things that aren't there, stop us. Okay? And keep an eye out for those things."

"Affirmative, master."

The group plunged into the tomb. Its walls were radically different from the cave they had been in previously. They were clean and smooth, as if permanently kept in pristine condition by the spirits in the place. There was a sort of purple radiance that would rise up occasionally from the ground, and all three would avoid stepping in it when they saw it. They slowly emerged from the tunnel into the main chamber of the tomb. It was barren, no ghosts, spirits or anything.

"Hmm, it wasn't this quiet last time," Caius thought aloud.

"Yeah," Dustil responded quietly. "Hey, do you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"It sounds like…" Dustil turned and walked through one of the three doors on adjacent walls in the chamber. Caius didn't notice he was moving until it was too late.

He exclaimed, "Dustil, wait!"

But his cry went unheard as a large stone wall shut down in between Dustil and Caius, locking itself into place.

"Damn it, damn it!" Caius grunted. "HK, can you see if there's a way to open this thing?"

The droid paused for a second, then said, "Answer: Negative, master, there are no means by which we could bypass this door. Even explosives would not work."

"Dustil!" Caius yelled, "just follow the tunnel! Ignore the visions! Follow the tunnel and you'll be all right!"

He hoped the boy could hear him. He paced back and forth a few times, thinking, and then presently came back to his hunting mission. He said, "HK, activate thermal sensors and scan the area for any life forms."

The droid obeyed, said, "Result: Negative, master, though it appears that the hideous creatures with the artifact passed this direction." He pointed to the tunnel opposite where Dustil disappeared.

"Great, if I remember correctly, that way is a dead end. We'll have them trapped." He took a deep breath and collected himself, then went in. HK trotted along gleefully beside him, waiting for the chance to engage in combat. They maneuvered quickly through the tunnel, hanging a left, and then towards the dead end room—the door was shut. Caius was relieved that they hadn't been confronted with the visions, he only hoped Dustil was having the same success. They stopped, he said, "HK, what about this door?"

"Assessment: There is no practical way to open it, but enough force should blow it open. Let the record state that I find this method most practical."

"Do you have anything that could destroy it?"

"Answer: Master, I am offended you would even ask such a question. Now, duck."

Caius was stunned momentarily and then regained his composure and scuffled around the hall corner. HK joined him a second later and both braced for the impact. A large fireball blasted out backwards from where the door was and granite and cement sprayed against the surrounding walls, cracking the beautiful marble construction. "What was that? A permacrete detonator?"

"Answer: Yes."

"I see…well, here goes. HK, do that trick you were talking about."

"Glee: With pleasure, master."

The assassin droid activated his thermal vision, enabling him to see the body heat of any beings within the vicinity. Due to the massive explosion, visibility was practically nonexistent as ash, dirt, and rock hung in the thick cavern air. HK could see straight through the mess and focus on three heat signatures cowering inside the room.

He opened fire.

His aim was exact, and two of the creatures fell instantly. The third let out a piercing howl, much like the ear-shattering shriek made by the one Elliott killed, and leapt out of HK's line of sight. Caius sneaked a look around the corner, only to be greeted by an ion bolt. It flung straight at his head, and reflex saved his life. He jerked uncomfortably as the blast narrowly missed him. HK was not so lucky. The ion bolt smacked him right in the chest and sent him careening backwards into the fractured marble surface. Caius ignited his lightsaber and then jumped through the dirt air and into the sole room. He instantly saw two dead bodies, but saw no third.

The Force caused him to instinctively turn around, just in time to see a longsword slicing through the air towards him. He managed to barely parry the strike out of the way, the metal clanking and bouncing off of his blue saber. The Sith howled again and jumped. It cleared his head by a good three feet and landed behind him. There was something distinctly animalistic about its movements. Though it was tall and lanky, it had the agility of a monkey. And apparently the strength of a ronto. It struck again and beat Caius's parries backwards, endangering the Exile as his lighstaber was almost whacked into him as he held off the enemy's furious attacks.

Caius was one of the most accomplished duelists of the Order, at least he had been when he was a Jedi. But he had always fought differently. Though he was a guardian, he did not focus on brute strength or power. He favored speed and agility and quick strikes. As such, he was generally on the defensive. His years in exile had only served to sharpen his skills. Normally he could best any swordsman the galaxy had to offer, but this thing was different. It was like fighting a beast; he couldn't anticipate its movements. Normally, with an animal, it is not so difficult because it's on the defense and it doesn't have a sword. The behavior of this creature was so unique and wild Caius had a hard time dueling it. For about a minute and a half they twirled around each other, trying to gain the upper edge. Mostly there were feints and dodges, very few real attacks. There would be long moments of nothing, the only noise was heavy breathing and the shrieking of the Sith. But eventually Caius forced it into a mistake. It swung too wide and left itself open. He didn't have the opportunity to strike it with his saber, but he was able to smash it upside the head with his elbow. Its head jerked backwards, the hood falling down farther over its face. As it was stunned, Caius summoned the Force and threw it backwards, pinning it against the wall.

Much to his surprise, the creature had held on to its sword through all of this. As it smacked against the wall, it somehow found the strength to throw the blade at him. Caius almost didn't see it, but at the last moment was able to bat the javelin away from him. It clanked as it struck concrete. The creature, freed from Caius's Force power as it distracted him with the sword, yelled and then pulled out a small revolving pistol, seemingly of primitive technology. Caius remembered what Xristos said about blocking the bullets and summoned a surge of energy. He flew at the attacker with blinding speed. It fired, but earlier than it had intended to, and its shot went wide. The gun made a tremendous noise when it shot, echoing throughout the tomb. Its echo was followed by a piercing wail as Caius lopped the arm off of the creature and then silenced it by removing its head.

He deactivated his lightsaber. The Exile put his hands on his knees and gasped, exhausted.

"HK?" he called.

"Answer: Master," said the droid with what seemed like pain, "I am stuck."

Caius walked slowly outside of the room to see HK lying on the ground, trying to pull himself up but unable to do so.

"Statement: That wretched creature's ion bolt paralyzed my right arm, I cannot get up."

The Exile braced himself and then tried to pull the droid off of the ground. The machine was incredibly heavy, a completely solid matting of circuits and wires and metal. He felt the veins pulsing through his neck as he lifted, but eventually he pulled the droid just enough off the rubble in order for him to get his feet again.

"Plea: Master, I beg you not to mention this to T3. Oh, the humiliation of having a meatbag zap my arm…and then having a meatbag help me up! I do not know if my behavior core could handle the embarrassment."

"Don't worry about it HK, I never told T3 about that incident with the gizka either."

"Statement: Master, remind me to remind you to wipe my memory of that."

"I wish I could wipe my memory of that…" Caius tried to suppress the memory, said, "Whatever, we need to find that map those things stole."

He went back into the dueling room, scouring the wreckage for the artifact. He turned over rocks with his foot and peered into the cracks and shattered walls, but to no avail. He was starting to feel that nervous cold feeling crawl up his spine before HK spoke.

"Statement: I believe I found it, master." With his good arm, HK lifted up the small rectangular box and held it out to Caius.

"Great, now let's get the hell out of here."

He quickly backtracked out of the dead end hallway towards the cave entrance. The way in was sealed, so they'd have to traverse through the tomb and get out the back way. He hoped Dustil would be able to make it there and meet them. He wasn't sure what he'd do if they couldn't find him.

He made a right and started down the middle passageway from the main corridor. HK clanked along behind him, his right arm hanging limply at his side, sparks ejecting from the joint not infrequently. The droid still gripped a heavy blaster in his left hand, eager for more combat. His assault rifle had to be slung over his shoulder, useless.

As they moved slowly through the corridor Caius felt his body grow more sluggish. His vision blurred and he strained to see clearly. He gripped the box under his arm tightly as he felt a strange dizzying sensation. His vision continued warping. He tried to focus on the walls, something concrete to avoid this all too familiar feeling, but they shifted as well. Slowly the marble surfaces metamorphosed into crawling, living things. Their color darkened, molting from serene gray and tan to a slimy, jungle green. Vines slithered out of the jungle walls—great plants slapping at him and threatening to entangle him. He grew afraid.

"HK," he called, "HK, what do you see?"

"Answer: My photoreceptors are reading no disturbances in this hall or the next. This hall is as empty as it is dead."

Just as he had thought, the droid was immune. The lush forest grew thicker, more confusing, more disgusting. Vivid memories were coming back.

"HK, you have to be my eyes. The visions…they're coming back. Go in front of me and don't stop unless I do. If I do stop, grab me and keep me going. Even if it looks like I'm talking to someone."

"Compliant: Yes, master."

The droid had no concept of what was afflicting his master. To him, he was merely taking the lead because his meatbag master was suffering some sort of meatbag brain disease. Or maybe he was overreacting to the situation as meatbags often tended to do.

Caius, however, was sinking slowly into the dismal fantasy world of his past. The jungle swarmed over the tunnel and completely eradicated any structure at all. It may as well have been the real forest. He trudged behind HK, stepping over broken tree trunks and massive mud puddles, his robes getting soiled.

The visions grew more intimate and more terrifying. Now he was seeing the people, the memories of the war. Always the war, he thought. He tried to concentrate on the hulking orange machine in front of him, but it was getting harder. He wanted to look at the things around him. There were people he had known, faces he would recognize. But he had to ignore them. If he looked, he'd fall deeper into the illusion. He kept going, fighting the urge. But eventually he couldn't ignore them any longer. He slipped, fell down into the mud. As he looked up he didn't see the droid. A cold, sickly hand stretching out in front of him obstructed his vision. It shook with tension as he stared at it. Its flesh was white, covered with mud. He followed the hand to the arm and to the body. He remembered this. There, lying in the mud, was a half-gone soldier. He was still alive, somehow clinging to miserable existence despite missing both legs. The eyes were delirious and disoriented, looking at Caius but not quite at him. As if they were looking through him or behind him. The hand still quivered.

The dying man's voice could be heard, faintly pleading, "General…"

Caius shook his head and grunted, trying to shut out the memories. He jumped forward several yards, away from the ghost soldier. Frantically he searched the forest for his orange guide. He could not see him.

"HK…?"

Dustil was under siege by emotional trauma. Unleashed, before his very eyes, were all the most painful, pivotal memories of his life.

His father left for the war. Telos was bombed. He was separated from his mother. He was found by the Sith. He shifted perspectives and relived all those terrifying moments. He inhabited the body of a young boy again, then he was a teenager again. He was a Sith again.

The dark side inside him began to rage. It stormed in a violent maelstrom of blackness within his soul. He could see himself, his vision detached from his body. His skin was turning pale, skin was dying and falling off, his eyes were discoloring. He looked on himself with horror. Then he heard a familiar voice.

"Dustil?" said a sweet soprano behind him. "Is that you?"

He wheeled around, his head dizzying. "Selene?"

There was the adorable girl with the blonde hair and the dark brown eyes, the one that urged him to join the Sith that found him after scorching his planet.

"Selene, I…no—no I can't. Get away from me. Get away, this isn't real, get away!"

"Dustil, what's wrong with you? I'm right here. Or don't you miss me?"

"Of course I do—I mean, leave me alone!" He tried to turn and run, but as he wheeled around Selene was suddenly in front of him again.

"I don't think you do." Her expression changed, disgust showing through her beautiful face. "You always did straddle the fence. You said you'd miss me, you said a lot of things to me. But I didn't believe most of them. I mean, you never meant most of what you said."

"That's…not true," he said, desperately trying to break free of her hold.

She smirked, though it was not a pleasant one, more like she was barely tolerating him. "What about dedicating your life to the Sith? You promised me that, remember?"

"Things…changed."

"No," she said, laughing at his expense, "no they didn't. You never were man enough. You just talked the talk. You couldn't follow through. You were weak. The Sith are better off without you."

"No! I mean—yes, they're better. Wait…that's not what I mean!" He yelled something. He wasn't sure what it was or who he was yelling at. He just had to scream.

She shook her head, "See? You are weak. You don't even know what you believe."

"That's…not true. I am…a Jedi."

"No. You are damned."

"Stop!" he pleaded. "Let me go!" He fell to his knees. He shut his eyes tight, trying to keep her out of his sight, but still he could hear her.

"I don't hold you. You imprison yourself." She sighed, "I can't believe I tried to bring a worthless cur such as you into the Sith. Look at you. You are pathetic. You are a child."

He just mumbled to himself, trying not to listen, falling deeper into his delusions.

"And I never lov-" her voice suddenly dissolved mid-sentence. It transformed from a natural, sugary soprano to a smooth accented pitch he vaguely recognized. "Dustil? Dustil!"

He still crouched on the floor, his head swimming from the relentless confrontations.

"Dustil! Come on, Dustil! Get up!" The voice came closer. He murmured gibberish to the newcomer, still keeping his eyes shut tight. He feared another fantasy.

But this one was real. His rescuer grabbed him by the arm and lifted him onto his feet. "Dustil!" the attractive voice raised into a sharp yell. "Get a hold of yourself!"

The young man groggily opened his eyes and looked up through a film of water into the distorted image of Bastila Shan. She was holding him up by his shoulders, but his body was almost limp. He just wanted to lie down and sleep, mental exhaustion eating away at him.

"Dustil, you've got to work with me if you ever want to get out of here," she said, trying to urge him back into his senses.

He nodded wearily, trying to blink his eyes into focus. Bastila turned him around and put her arm gently around his neck and onto his opposite shoulder. Her touch was comforting to him, he felt safer. Slowly he was coming back to reality.

"Come on, we've got to get out of here. Walk with me," she begged of him.

She led him along, step by step, until they began moving at a more brisk pace. Dustil was still stuttering incoherent things, but Bastila was not distracted by it. She was being confronted by her own inner demons. But she was defeating them.

Vrook did not stop her. Neither did her mother.

Malak could not dissuade her from her objective. She had steeled her already incredible resolve and simply willed the illusions away from her. They faded as she hurried past them.

But even she had her limitations. She valiantly fought onwards, dragging an incoherent Dustil along with her. But she was having a harder time ignoring the visions, slowing her pace. She looked at the illusions briefly, then tried to banish them, but to no avail. This one was persistent.

It was Revan.

All around her a familiar battle raged. There were merely two, dancing circles around her and Dustil. She was the epicenter of this epic duel, one she had seen before. It was good versus evil, light versus dark, and a battle of redemption. Out of the corner of her eye she saw herself wielding her red double lightsaber. Her specter angrily flung the destructive weapon at her assailant. She was so scarred by the incident that she had sworn off the double blades forever. She hoped the gesture would allow her to begin anew.

Bastila looked at him. It had been years since she had seen him, but she remembered exactly what he looked like. Waging war against her dark spirit was the Prodigal Knight. He was focused, intense, and yet…serene. His face was calm and placid as hers was violent and hateful. His brown eyes held no contempt for her. The duel continued about them as Bastila vainly tried to find the exit from the tomb. She caught a glimpse of Revan again. He wasn't even breaking a sweat as he fought. Was this what really happened, or was it the ghost? She couldn't remember. But she marveled at how his scruffy brown hair did not moisten with perspiration. He was the picture of…peace.

She tried to look away, thought to herself: There is no emotion,

Then an epiphany.

There is emotion.

This scene, being replayed again before her eyes had held special significance to her. It was one of the most traumatic experiences of her life, but it had changed. It meant something else to her now. It had led directly to the most rapturous and joyful experience of her life. It started right there, on top of that unknown temple on an unknown world. She realized during that fight, though she did not admit it until later, that she loved Revan. He came to save her, all by himself, risking his own life. For her.

And she realized he loved her.

These visions that were trying to torture her had their fortunes reversed. They no longer humiliated her. She embraced them. Her pace quickened, she hugged Dustil closer to herself, his head dangling limply. A smile crept subconsciously across her lips as she looked straight at the apparitions.

"There is emotion," she said to them, "and peace."

The phantoms locked blades and then simultaneously froze. In an instant they had faded away, never to be seen again. In the place they had occupied a door was now fully visible.

"We're going to make it, Dustil," she said, now brimming with optimism. All of the visions had vanished, she saw only the flat marble walls of the dead tomb. She pushed the door open and found a large sarcophagus that had been looted. She reached out with the Force and felt the light of the external world pouring through one of the small openings in the room. She rubbed Dustil's shoulder as she led him outside, back into the normal cave. She ducked her head as they emerged from the dark tomb, and set Dustil down gently on the ground.

Now out of the tomb he was regaining his senses. He asked, "Bastila? What are you…where am I?"

She just said simply, "We made it."

Caius was not so lucky. He was lost in the dense jungle of Dxun and unable to find his guide.

"HK?" he called out repeatedly, distraught and frightened. He stumbled through the muck of the filthy planet. He fell down and landed face first in the slop. Suddenly his surroundings shifted, the dream continuing. The streaking comet of the Republic ship sailed over him, spraying its fire through the sky and onto the ground. Again, that unforgettable thud of it smacking into the ground reverberated throughout his skull.

As he tried to raise himself out of the mud he heard the soldiers around him stirring up a huge commotion over the crashed vessel. They ran around him quickly, trying to reach the crashed ship.

Caius slowly stood up, groggy, but awake. He began struggling through the slosh and dirt the same direction everyone else was going.

After a few minutes of toiling he found himself in the presence of a younger officer. A captain. Caius asked, "Captain, where did the ship crash?"

"General, sir, it's right nearby. Just fifty yards off, right over there." He pointed, "We have to clear it out of the way. Fortunately, none of our men were hurt. And we don't have to worry about the forest catching fire—this place is wetter than Manaan."

"Good work," Caius said to him automatically.

"Uh, one more thing, sir."

Caius fell into a momentary stupor and then shook himself out of it, said, "What is it, captain?"

"The pilot…he's still alive."

Before Caius could ask how, his dream was suddenly interrupted. There was an explosion and the sound of gunfire. He did not remember this from that night. He was being yanked back into the world of reality. Several more blaster shots rang out, and there was an otherworldly scream and then silence. The noise was piercing, and though the forest was still there, it was becoming more insubstantial as Caius was reawakening.

The silence was broken by a mechanical tone, "Statement: Rot in hell, meatbag."

The Exile then saw his assassin droid. He was standing over the dead body of another of those infernal creatures, his pistol still smoking.

"HK!" Caius called out. He was at the same time overjoyed and angry at the droid. "Where the hell did you go?"

The forest was swimming in the air. "Query: What do you mean 'where did I go'? Do your photoreceptors fail you, master?"

"What? You ran off and left me behind!"

"Statement: No master, I followed your orders to the letter. You were behind me the whole time. You do not remember this?"

Caius was so confused he did not even want to begin sorting out what had happened. "HK," he said drearily, "just get me out of here."

"Statement: Yes, master. By my calculations, we should be nearing the exit."

Caius followed the droid and tried harder to focus than he had ever in his entire life. He concentrated so hard on the orange machine he thought his brain was going to be permanently damaged. But slowly, ever so slowly, HK followed through.

They found themselves in the sarcophagus room where he had faced the apparition of Revan oh so long ago. In a matter of moments, HK led him outside.

"Exclamation: Jedi Bastila, Dustil! How did you get here?"

Dustil looked up at Caius with blood red eyes, mortified seemingly beyond expression but regaining his hold on reality. Caius similarly felt better as he had escaped from the tomb. It was like emerging from being underwater and drawing breath again. It was liberating, but so terribly tiring.

Bastila, though, seemed to be in better shape.

"How did you find us?" Caius asked.

"I don't think I could explain it. There were…supernatural forces at work."

Caius sighed and sat down, said, "Yeah, supernatural. That tomb is a living hell. That's the extent of that."

Bastila was content to say nothing.

Caius suddenly sprung upwards. His head experienced a sharp pain from rising so fast. He grimaced, put his hand on his forehead, and yelled, "Damn it, damn it! Where's the artifact? If I left it inside that bloody tomb I'm going to—"

"Interjection: Master, I have it right here. You dropped it on the ground so I picked it up." The droid scanned all three of them with its red "eyes." "Query: What in the hell is wrong with all of you?"

"HK, you're lucky you're a droid," said the Exile.

"Statement: This I know."

Caius exhaled deeply and then motioned for Dustil to get up. He said, "Come on, let's get out of here."

It took them some time to make it back to the ravaged campsite in the valley. They moved very slowly, but each of them seemed to have a newfound appreciation for life. Except the droid.

As they reached the camp, they found arather odd picture. Amid all the overturned boxes and crates and torn tents, no one was there.

They all looked around, scanning the environment, until Bastila saw Xristos sitting at the foot of the Ebon Hawk's loading ramp on a rock. None of the rest of their crew was there. As they drew closer Caius noticed that the old man had his lightsaber in his hand, though it was off. At his feet was another of their mysterious attackers, cleaved in half at the waist.

"Xristos!" Bastila called out, "what happened?"

The old man didn't turn to look at them. "They attacked again. Not as many." He then sighed and met their gaze. "The sergeant's dead. And both of the scientists."

Caius felt his head instantly begin to perspire. "What about Allie?" He didn't consider his pilot, mostly because he didn't like him.

"And Elliott?" Dustil added for him.

"They're okay. Allie was here when it happened, but she's safe on the ship now. Elliott has the Hawk primed and ready to take off immediately. We were simply waiting for you to return. Kept us worried. We can't trifle with these Sith."

"Sith?" Caius and Dustil asked simultaneously. They looked at each other awkwardly and then Caius continued, "Is that what these are?"

"As far as we can tell," the old man answered.

Caius looked down at the halved corpse with new interest, but didn't want to examine it due to revulsion of the thing.

"Command: Please tell me T3 is dead," HK ordered with intimidation.

Xristos's countenance betrayed confusion for a moment, he said, "No…the droid is okay too. Our crew is fine. But the others were not so lucky."

"This planet is a nightmare," Caius said, "let's just get off of it."

They all agreed and made their way up into the freighter. Elliott immediately launched her and took them off of the desolate world. As they were lifting off Xristos said, "I'm afraid if we're going to the Sith Empire…we're going to find a lot of places like this. Perhaps worse."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Caius responded. "For now I'm just going to enjoy being none of those places."