Author's Notes: Thanks, once again, to my trio of loyal reviewers. You guys are awesome, you know who you are. I generally do a lot of editing after getting your reviews to try to adjust the characters based on your advice. It's really helpful, so thank you. Now, here's the next update. I promise I won't ever go into a giant philosophical exposition like the last chapter ever again. There will still be some philosophy, maybe, but it will never be that long. Just brief things. I hope I didn't chase away any readers because of that... heh.

BTW, is anyone else really pissed off about Bioware whoring out KotOR and making it an MMO? It was confirmed yesterday, so they've pretty much driven a stake into KotOR III. Which means this story is as close as I'll ever get to finding out what happens. (Sigh) Enough of that, though. Here you go; thanks and enjoy!

Chapter Fifteen

"What the hell do we do now?" asked Elliott after hearing the message

"I don't know," said Caius. "But we can't just sit here."

Allie said nervously, "But there's a Sith Lord out there! What can we do?"

"I've dealt with Sith Lords before," said Caius bluntly. It sounded arrogant, but it was certainly true.

"You may have," said Xristos, "but has anyone else. Bastila?"

Bastila shook her head, "Only if you count Revan."

"Well," Elliott said, "you can't get much more powerful than that, right?"

Bastila disagreed, she said, "What? No…you can. Revan is not the strongest Jedi ever, but everyone seems to think he is the single most powerful person in existence."

"If he's not, then who is?" Elliott asked.

"What? I don't know!" said Bastila. "It's not as if there's a master list of the best Jedi!"

"We're getting distracted," said Xristos, trying to bring order. "And we certainly can't get into stupid arguments that have nothing to do with our situation. Now: what are our options?"

Caius shrugged, said, "We can sit here or we can investigate."

Elliott then said, "Oh no, I'm not going anywhere. You all can go find Dustil—I'm staying right here. Where it's safe."

"If there is a Sith Lord on this planet," said Bastila, "then nowhere is safe. And since we can't leave, then we're going to have to deal with him sooner or later. It's probably a good idea to do it sooner."

"What about Dustil?" asked Allie. "Do you think he was captured?"

"It's possible," said Xristos, "if so—I don't know what will happen to him."

"If these Sith are anything like the one's we're familiar with," said Caius, "then they'll hold him hostage in order to lure us to them. And then they'll spring a trap."

"Can we be sure of that?" asked Xristos.

"No," answered Caius, "but we will find out."

"Are you all crazy?" said Elliott, "we can't go wandering straight into a Sith Lord's trap! We'll get massacred!"

"We are not leaving Dustil," Bastila said forcefully. The promise she had made to Carth was ringing in her ears. "Our mission goes out the window now. This is a matter of saving a friend—we have to find Dustil, whether he's dead or alive."

Elliott did not argue the point, he asked instead, "Do I have to go? What about the ship, can we leave her here unguarded?"

"I think we have no choice," said Caius. "We need everyone if we're going on a rescue mission. Even if that means leaving the Hawk behind. If we're lucky, the Sith will go behind our backs and try to commandeer her—then they'll explode." He hoped they understood that he was not serious with that last comment.

Bastila frowned, said, "You know as well as I that they won't do that. This Sith Lord will wait for us. He'll no doubt be able to pull some information out of Dustil, and he'll know that if we haven't left this planet already, then that means we can't."

"The same goes for him, then," said Xristos, "he is also stuck here."

"Whatever the details," said Bastila, "we're going to find Dustil…now."

Dustil Onasi was imprisoned in the open. No cell, no shackles, no bars or walls. Nothing. He was simply standing on the ground outside of the terrible wreck of the Sith ship that he had helped shoot down. There were crates and other things assembled around him, some inactive (or perhaps broken) droids.

But he could not move. He was in complete paralysis. He did not know if this was done by the Force, or by some sort of device—but the fact remained, he was completely immobile. Even his eyes could not move. He was permanently frozen in place. All he could do was breath and blink, somehow the paralysis allowed that. His senses still worked as well, he could see and hear.

And he felt cold. The snow was falling gently around him, as the Sith ship had crashed into the massive polar cap on the planet's hemisphere opposite the sun. The vessel was smashed into several pieces, broken apart over the snowy landscape. From what he and HK had gathered before they had been spotted, most of the Sith on board had been killed in the crash. But there were still several alive, more than the Hawk's crew for certain. There also were several war droids that appeared intact.

The sole hope that Dustil had was that of HK. The droid had escaped when he had been captured, and he only could pray that the psychotic machine had been able to get a distress call off to the Ebon Hawk. Then maybe he would live.

But his hopes were dashed. Just as he had been thinking about the droid, he saw two of the surviving Sith making their way towards their haphazardly arranged camp. They were struggling to carry something with them, once they got into Dustil's very limited field of vision, he saw that they were dragging the hulking orange droid with them. He was disabled. Or perhaps destroyed.

Suddenly a voice slithered into his head. It was a sickening feeling. There was no external voice to which he could attribute the sound. It was something inside his head. It was a hollow sound, no blood in the words. But even those he could not figure out. The voice was not communicating in a recognizable language, but in ideas and images. And yet…he understood it.

"Your droid has been a nuisance," it said. "It killed three of my men in a firefight. And then melted another as they attempted to subdue it. But it may be of use to me. Once you and your friends are dead, I will take this machine back to our homeworld and present it to my Lord as a gift."

Severus, thought the young man. Dustil wished he could move, but all he could do was stare straight ahead. Eventually, however, the being that owned the voice entered his peripheral. Had he not been paralyzed, he would've cowered in fear.

Before him stood the Sith Lord. Its dark mask was smiling in a mockingly grotestque fashion, as though it was spurning the very feeling of joy. On top of the Sith's mask was a black plume, like a frayed broom, that arched horizontally over his head. The rest of the Sith was cloaked in a dark robe, covering the Sith's entire body.

"And soon you all will be dead," spoke Lord Cyaxares. Despite the fact that it was now in front of him, Dustil could still feel the voice within his head. They were communicating telepathically.

"Do not fear. Your friends will come for you. That is part of this strategy. Your droid told them precisely where to go. Once they arrive, they will be ambushed and destroyed. And then you will have no one to save you. But do not think I will be foolish enough to leave you alive. Should they somehow come here, you will be quite dead. As of now, your only use is information. Answer these questions, and your death will be less painful." There was a pause in the communication. The Sith Lord was almost as unmoving as Dustil was. Then the Sith Lord turned around to face another Sith who was standing behind him. As he moved, Dustil watched as its face changed. The Sith had two masks on—one of the front of his head, and one on the back. The second mask bore a mutilated frown and tragic, empty eyes.

Dustil wanted nothing more than to be able to run away, but he was still frozen, encased in a shell. His body was in an uncomfortable position, as he had been stalled in the middle of an action. His right arm was extended outwards, and his left was brought up close to his chest. His face was very stoic and stiff. But Dustil could not feel any of it.

He looked on at the Sith Lord. He could not even really determine which way he was facing. He did not know which mask had eyes behind it, and which one did not. They were equally enigmatic.

Lord Cyaxares said something in an alien language—the now-familiar horrid gurgling that was the Sith language. As soon as he spoke, half a dozen battle droids—apparently all that had survived the crash—mobilized. They formed a line and began marching.

The Sith Lord, the sad mask still looking at him, said in Dustil's mind, "We have found your companions. I will deal with them shortly. But as for you."

He strode up smoothly to Dustil, the tragic mask facing him still, opposite of when he had been speaking to him previously. Cyaxares then said, "Let us begin."

All six of the Ebon Hawk crew—including T3—moved slowly out of the steppe and into decrepit old ruins.

"Dustil was right," said Caius. "There was a civilization here once."

The rest did not speak. They eventually graduated from the harsh steppe to what felt like an ancient road. It was still there as there was no vegetation to grow over it. There was a vast network of ebony structures, made out of a substance that none of them recognized. There were doric columns and remnants of the foundations of what must have been buildings, but there were very few intact structures. Wind howled loudly through the cavernous ruins, whistling through the openings and generating a positively erie feeling. A web of roads spread throughout the area, and they followed whichever ones seemed to lead towards the crash site of the Sith ship.

"I wonder how any race could've survived here," Xristos said. "It seems too inhospitable."

"I thought so too," said Bastila. "I have no idea."

The ruins they found, though odd, were not numerous. And most of them were destroyed. The single unifying characteristic was the color, everything was black—an unholy chasm of darkness. The absolute finality of the blackness was a little unsettling to them, and it smacked of the dark side of the Force.

Caius changed the subject, he asked, "How long do you think it'll take us to get there?"

"Well," said Xristos, "it took Dustil almost a day. Even though we won't get as tired because of this light gravity, it'll still take a while. Best not to go too fast and tire ourselves out. We'll get there in due time."

"And what do we plan to do once we get there?" the Exile asked. "Just tell them we want Dustil back?"

"Yes," Bastila said sarcastically.

Caius decided not to pursue that conversation further. It was obvious the situation was that of a "we'll cross the bridge when we come to it" scenario.

The crew walked in silence for a while. The only noise that was not drowned out by the screeching wind was the perpetual scuffling of feet and T3'a mechanical whirring. They approached what seemed to be a hill, and began ascending it via the beaten road. It was high enough to impede their vision, and Caius guessed there was a valley on the other side, as he could vaguely determine that the high mountains were far past them.

He did not expect what they found, however.

Once they summitted the hill, they were awestruck with what laid before them.

"Wow," was all any of them could say.

Before them was the skeleton of a huge city. The very bones of an old civilization that had ceased to exist. No plants had grown over them, and nothing seemed to have disturbed the place in millennia. There was merely a graveyard of obsidian structures, stretching from where they stood all the way to the base of a nearby mountain range—into the snowy cap of the planet's outer hemisphere.

"This is incredible," said Bastila. "These ruins are so…alien, so…strange."

Indeed they were. The expanse was unlike anything they had ever seen. Even the Rakatan ruins were dissimilar. These things were fundamentally different than any sort of buildings or structures they had ever witnessed. There were some unnaturally tall and thin black points that stood from the ground. They were the highest of the ruins, but everything was built in a similar fashion. Everything had a disproportionately small base for such tall ruins. They just looked awkward. There were flatter things, but with odd polygonal shapes. There were also classical pillars with very narrow bases and some of them bore imprinted reliefs of some kind of art on their heads.

"How is it that all the ruins are shaped this way?" asked Bastila.

"The weak gravity," answered Xristos, "it doesn't pull on the buildings as much. I suspect if there were trees on this planet, they would be unnaturally tall and thin as well."

Looking out over the graveyard was almost a religious experience. It was like beholding some holy, untouched, and unseen land. Something that no one knew existed; something that had the power to validate life and existence. Everything was so…raw and primeval. It was not something one could see, but feel. But there was also a dark undercurrent to the awesome exterior.

Bastila had felt it. She said, "The dark side is strong here. It sits on this city like a taint, drowning everything in its power, strangling it. Something horrible happened here once."

"I feel it too," said Xristos, "let's hope it's not a bad omen."

They resumed their quest once they had appropriately beheld the sight. It was truly incredible, but they had to move on. Downwards they strolled, on towards the 'city'. They would have to navigate it if they were to get to the Sith crash site. Caius wondered if this was the 'proof' Dustil was talking about when he said there was evidence of life on the planet. But he wondered why he didn't say he found a city. Perhaps he did not have the opportunity.

The trek was taking a long time, and the relative silence of the crew was making the journey feel eternal. Xristos and Bastila were in the front of the tour, and Caius, Allie, and Elliott brought up the rear. Allie was very quiet, her arm apparently not bothering her, though she still was wearing the sling. Xristos had advised her to keep it for at least a little while longer. Elliott looked like he was going to die of boredom. Caius found this notion strange, considering they were crashed on a foreign planet—but Elliott seemed to find the situation somewhat uninspiring.

Elliott decided to alleviate his unhappiness with small talk. He said, "Hey Bastila—earlier you said that Revan is not the most powerful Jedi. If not, then why are we looking for him?"

"Because," said Bastila as she trudged along in front, "he holds the key to defeating the Sith. We need him to preserve the safety of the Republic."

"The why not have someone more capable do this?"

"Do what? Our job or Revan's?" she asked.

"Revan's," answered Elliott.

"There isn't anyone more capable," she said flatly. "Revan is the best man for this. He knows more about the Sith than anyone alive. And he has more war and strategic experience than anyone else. That is where his ability lies."

Xristos agreed, said, "There is a public myth that Revan is the Force incarnate. Bastila's right that he is not, but that is not to say that he isn't powerful. His is just a different power. He was never the greatest duelist or the most adept Force user. But he was smart, he was adaptive, and he was brave. He also has what the common people call 'luck', but what we Jedi recognize as the mark of the Force. The Force is truly with him, and that is why he is so vital. Not because he is somehow divine—that is surely untrue."

"So…" said Elliott unsurely, "he…is…the most powerful man in the galaxy?"

"Yes and no—is the answer," said Bastila. "He is the most gifted, but he is the most powerful; not in the way everyone understands power to be."

Caius added, "Kreia said that Revan was the 'Heart of the Force'."

"That is…lofty praise," said Xristos.

"Yeah, well," said Caius, "if Kreia said it, it's probably a lie."

Unfortunately, Atton was not there to appreciate the joke. Everyone else just shot him a confused glare. Even Allie regarded him oddly. He wished he had someone around who understood what he meant.

They continued their walk through the skeletal city, once again devolving into quiet. There were parts of the city that were very exposed, and through the wreckage and dead buildings they could see for miles. At least, as far as the perpetual gray haze would allow. Caius found his eyes wandering the countryside at one point, and he found something unbelievable.

"What the hell is that?" he cried out at random.

In the distance, he saw a mysterious phantom. But as hard as he tried to look at it, he could not see it. Only when he looked away could he discern its presence. But out of his peripheral vision, he could not tell exactly what it was. All he thought he could see was something tall and spindly. A transluscent specter that floated over the ground and through the ruins of the great city. As best as he could tell, it resembled a walking jungle tree—an indistinguishable collection of limbs and cloth and pale color. But when he looked straight at it, he saw only a faded light.

"What the hell is what?" Elliott asked.

Caius was merely pointing and stammering, "There was…something…over there!" He gestured towards the distant horizon.

"I don't see anything," Elliott stated.

"Neither…do I," Bastila said with him. "Are you sure you aren't just seeing things?"

"I'm positive. There was a ghost over there, or a spirit. But when you looked right at it, it would disappear."

"It wasn't the Sith Lord, was it?" asked Xristos.

"No, no I don't think so. I don't know what it was."

"I still see nothing," said Xristos. "Perhaps we should rest. You might be seeing things as a result of fatigue."

"I'm telling you," Caius said forcefully, "it was there."

"Be that as it may," Xristos assented, "we should probably take a break anyway—we've been walking since morning."

"Great, I'm starving," said Elliott.

With that, Bastila beckoned to T3. The little droid had been tugging along with some supplies for them. A little food and medicine. They had taken out the blasters in his weapons compartments and stuffed it with these amenities instead. The little droid was almost useless in a firefight anyway, they figured they would be better served this way.

The food, though, was terrible. It was a plain, hard concoction. Basically condensed nutrients made into edible form. It tasted like paper.

They all sat down on the ground in a circle. The only speaking that went on during the first part of the 'meal' was that of Elliott complaining about the food. He griped until everyone was sick of it, but it was surprisingly Allie who responded. She said quickly and loudly, "Shut up!"

"Those are the first words you've said in a long time," Caius said, echoing what everyone was thinking.

She shrugged, giving an innocent look, said, "I couldn't take it anymore. Let's talk about…something else."

Bastila then remembered of her conversation with Xristos the previous night. She used the opportunity to remind him of it. She said somewhat vaguely, "Xristos, do you remember the promise you made last night?"

He thought for a brief moment, then said, "That I do. And I'm a man of my word."

Before he could go on, Elliott interjected, "Whoa! Xristos, don't just marry her because you got her pregnant! You're age difference is bad enough!"

No one was pleased at the last remark. Bastila's fists were clenched, and if looks could kill, Elliott would have been impaled on the end of a pike. Xristos's mouth just dropped—hanging there in shock. Allie frowned and shook her head. Caius made a fist and threw a half-punch at Elliott's head, at which the man covered his face and ducked down.

"You crossed the line, jackass," Caius said to the pilot as he rolled to his feet a yard or two away. "That wasn't funny."

"I thought it was," he said.

"Why must you be such a child?" Bastila shouted angrily, standing up and putting some physical momentum into her words.

"Let's not start," said Xristos. "He's not worth your anger, Bastila."

She muttered something and then sat down on a small rock, looking at her feet.

"What she was talking about," began Xristos, "was a question she asked me earlier. She wanted to know why I have different views than other Jedi about love, and I told her that it was a long story but I promised I'd tell it later." He looked at Elliott, "Do you understand?"

Elliott lit a cigarette, inhaled, and then said, "Sure."

"Don't smoke that near me," shot Bastila. "Go stand over there."

Elliott put his hands up in submission and backed several yards away.

Xristos continued, said, "Well, I suppose now is as good a time as any. But we can't just sit around while Dustil is gone—we're done eating, so let's walk. I'll talk as we go."

The crew obliged and began walking, giving T3 back the remnants of food. The old Jedi then took a deep breath before he started. The rest of the crew stood side to side, with Xristos in the middle, so as to hear.

He said, "The reason I'm so opposed to their doctrine is that I…once had a wife."

There was mild shock exhibited by the others—save for Bastila, who had suspected this.

"I thought Jedi aren't allowed to marry?" Allie asked. She glanced quickly at Caius as she asked, but then looked away once they made eye contact.

"We're not," the old man said flatly.

"So it's like Jolee," Bastila said.

"Not quite," replied Xristos. "I broke no rules—you see, I was married before I joined the Order."

"How is that possible?" Caius asked, a bit stupefied.

Xristos smirked, understanding the confusion. He answered, "Because I did not join the Jedi until I was twenty-six years old."

"This is a little hard to believe," said Bastila, "the Order would never accept someone as old as that. Even if you were Force sensitive."

"You're right—they didn't. But that didn't stop my master—Dann Gallen—from training me. He thought it was unfair that they deny me because of my age. So he trained me in secret."

"That is…odd," said Bastila, "but then what happened to your wife?"

Xristos cleared his throat, said, "All right. Now I have to tell the story. Reliving it is painful, but I see I must tell you all." He took a breath, said, "It starts where I was born, a backwater planet—barely part of the Republic. I was raised in a poor family. My father died when I was young, so I had to take a job working at a local droid shop in order to help my mother raise my brothers and sisters. I did this for years eventually paying my way through school. The shop fell into my hands when the owner died and left it to me, so I actually had a decent business on my hands. At least as far as that kind business goes. It was during this time that I met my wife, Aria. I was only twenty-one when I married her, and she was the same age. We were young, and stupid, but we were in love—there is no denying that."

There was another pause, the crew taking several strides on the road as he stopped. Once he spoke again, he said, "We were married for three years before it happened. I was coming home from work, and when I got to our apartment I noticed the front door was unlocked. It was also open slightly. I was confused, but I went inside nonetheless. Once…inside, I saw all of our furniture was turned over and there were things all over the floor. Broken appliances, loose papers, things like that. Instantly I knew we'd been burglarized."

He took a deeper breath, continued, "I ran through the house to see if any rooms were untouched, but none were. I could not find my wife, I figured she had gone out and accidentally left the door unlocked—allowing the burglar in. I went into our bedroom last, as it was in the back of the apartment." His voice quivered slightly, an emotional response that Caius had never expected from the usually placid old man. He said shakily, "and that's…where I found her."

"She was…dead?" Bastila tried to fill in.

Xristos just nodded solemnly.

"Oh, Xristos, that's awful!" said Allie.

Bastila was apologetic, she said, "Oh…I didn't think…I'm sorry, I didn't mean for you to have to talk about this."

"It's been forty years," said Xristos, "pretending it never happened is not going to do anything. But that doesn't mean it isn't…hard. The most difficult thing is never being able to say goodbye to her. I mean, I said goodbye that morning as I went to work, but that's not the same. I had no idea it would be the last time…that's what makes it so painful. It's like there is no absolution. She was there…and then she was gone. And I didn't even get to see her again."

Even Elliott was somber as a result of the story. He did not speak.

Xristos continued, "But that was how I ended up as a Jedi. You see, fate had it that a Jedi Master—Master Gallen—was in town that day. And there were never Jedi there. He came by my apartment to offer condolences and investigate. I don't know why he was on planet, but he apparently had time to look into a murder case. When he met me, though, that's when he said I was a Force adept. I had no idea, really, I didn't even know what he meant. Several months later he turned up again and tried to get me to go to Coruscant—he wanted me to join the Order. Naturally they refused. I thought that was it, and I wanted to go back to my home and business. But he was not dissuaded. He insisted on training me himself, so I let him. Eventually, I made enough progress for him to try to convince the Order to let me in again. They were not happy with his behavior—they demoted him to Knight—but they allowed me to join, figuring that it would be dangerous to let me wander around outside the Order if I had control over the Force."

He sighed, said, "And that is how I became a Jedi. But I vowed never to let my wife be forgotten. I believe she would want me to resist the Jedi to continue teaching that love is of the dark side. And she would be ashamed of me if I did not. I hope she approves of what I am doing, but I've tried my best to say what I think. Love is not an enemy to be feared, but an ally to be embraced." And with that, his tale was over.

Allie asked, "What was your wife like?"

"She was smarter than me," he said with a laugh, "she always had to put up with my poor business decisions, and then she'd try to fix them. She was kind, though. Probably the nicest person I've ever met. That's not to say we did not have our issues with each other, everyone does, but it's part of growing and maturing. This is why I advocate love to the Jedi—nothing helps a person grow more, mature more, than having to deal with someone else. Loving someone is not easy, but it makes adults. The Jedi forget that."

A solemn agreement fell over the troupe, and they spoke no more. Instead they each fell into probing their own thoughts.

Elliott's mind wandered, and Allie was unsure of what to make of the conversation. She knew that Jedi forbade love, but, as an outsider, Xristos's ideas did not seem that revolutionary to her.

Bastila, more and more, was inclined to agree with him. She did not know what this meant for her and Revan, and whatever future they had, but she did know that this absolved some of the guilt she had. Whatever else, she wanted Xristos to be right. But deep down, she heartily agreed with him. And it was then that her transformation was complete. She had gone all the way from being a traditional, ultra-fundamentalist Jedi before meeting Revan, all the the way to a 'free-thinking', self described 'liberal' Jedi. Surely Revan would laugh if he ever found out.

Caius, not having heard the deep discussion between Bastila and Xristos the night before, was rather stunned at Xristos's musings. He had never heard anyone advocating love before. Sure, he had heard of it, but he had never met anyone who did so. Even the infamous Jolee Bindo, who had a reputation for thinking outside of the box.

What surprised him was the astounding sense of Xristos's thoughts, but also how applicable they seemed. No wonder the old man had been so pressing about Allie on Scythia. And then Caius realized that he still had not confronted Allie about this…thing. Of course now was not a good time, but he would have to do it. Unfortunately, his resolve was crumbling. Should he still tell her he wants nothing to do with her? That was, he admitted, not exactly true. He didn't really know what to say. No, he thought, I'll figure out to say once I get there. For now, we have to find Dustil.

He hoped Dustil was still alive, but the odds seemed against it. Their strategy of walking to the Sith ship was rather absurd, but there really weren't any other options. They would rescue Dustil, and then they would see I they could fix the ship. If Dustil was…gone…then they would have to figure out a way to fix the ship anyway. But he certainly did not like their predicament. And wandering through the chillingly vacant city—and seeing ghostly specters in the distance—was not his idea of a good time.

Two or three more times he thought he saw the mysterious floating things, but he did not voice his concerns. No one had believed him the first time, and it was unlikely that they would change their minds. If they saw the phantoms, they would say so.

Through the desolate wastes they walked, wondering about the civilization that had once occupied the ruins. After almost an hour of walking, and making seemingly little progress, Caius saw something. But these were different things. Several hundred yards in front of them were half a dozen or so humanoid, bipedal beings. They were solid, and very certainly there. And they seemed to be approaching them.

Caius instinctively squinted to make out what they were, but could not figure it out. They were moving—and that could not be a good sign.

There was a flash of gunpowder.

"Get down!" Caius yelled, using the Force to push Elliott out of the way. A hail of bullets tore into the ground where he had been standing.

The unmistakable sound of lightsabers igniting followed. Caius held his single, blue blade tightly, and Xristos had his green one ready. Bastila, having switched styles after her traumatic expierience during the Civil War, gripped two blue weapons, one in each hand.

War droids, Caius thought. And the Jedi charged towards their attackers.

Lord Cyaxares was pulling all the information he wanted out of Dustil. There was nothing the young Jedi could do but divulge everything. What made the interrogation even more difficult was that Dustil could not speak. In order to lie one has to be able to talk, but Cyaxares merely combed through Dustil's mind, retrieving any truths he happened to find.

When the Sith Lord would ask a question, his voice booming within his head, Dustil would immediately think of the answer. It was impossible not to. That is how a lie works—one thinks the answer, but says something false. Dustil could not. He merely thought the answer.

Lord Cyaxares learned everything about the Ebon Hawk and her crew in the short time he had invaded Dustil's mind. He learned that Carth Onasi and Valiens Nantaris were the men chiefly behind the mission. He learned that they were intending to go to Malacandra. He learned that they had just left Scythia. He learned that the exile Jedi and a woman were getting involved with each other—something a Sith could easily exploit. He learned about Bastila and her Battle Meditation, Xristos and his philosophies, Caius and his wound, Elliott and his addictions, Allie and her ingenuity, HK and T3—all of them. The mental trauma that Dustil was going through as the Sith Lord ravaged his mind was almost too much to bear. But bear it he did, as he had no alternative. He just stood still, in his twisted posture, as the Sith Lord conducted the 'interview'.

As the Sith Lord's questions grew less frequent, the 'dialogue' was interrupted.

From behind, a Sith trooper, covered head to foot in their ornate black garb, approached Lord Cyaxares. The Sith Lord did not turn around, his other mask confronting the newcomer. They exchanged a brief discussion in that awful garbled language, and then Cyaxare's voice thrust itself into Dustil's mind again.

It said, "It seems our war machines have located your companions. We will leave now and eradicate them. But do not fear—you will come and see them slain."

Without elaborating why, Cyaxares ceased communication. The Sith tooper then strode up to Dustil and stood to his left. He seemed to be awaiting the Sith Lord's approval, and then he opened up a small box and took something out.

Dustil could not see it initially, but his blood ran cold once the object briefly came into view. In the Sith's hand was a morbidly long syringe, a drop of liquid resting on the tip of the needle.

The Sith tooper laughed sardonically and then plunged the needle into Dustil's left arm. It pierced through his Jedi robes and went into his flesh. The Sith slowly pushed down on the back end, injecting the substance into Dustil's blood stream.

Dustil was panicking, unsure what was happening. But all he could do was hold the same pose he had been in for hours on end. But inside of him he could feel the malevolent liquid moving—and he was helpless to do anything about it.

Cyaxares spoke in his mind again, said, "You will be dead within twelve hours. Such is the beauty of lethal injection. The time of your passing is my choosing."

The Sith Lord walked away, again not changing directions. The same mask looked at Dustil as he left. He could not discern which direction the Sith was really facing, it was a terrifying enigma. But what frightened him the most was his impending death. He had been poisoned…and he would be dead this day.

Cyaxares barked something at one his underlings. Dustil immediately was hit from behind. Being paralyzed, he could not control his body, but he functioned as a ragdoll. He smacked into the ground, his face slamming onto the dirt. He then felt his legs picked up. He was then dragged across the ground, rocks tearing at his skin, towards a large, dark vehicle.

Their surge through the street was ill advised. The droids shot too quickly and too accurately. Bullets ripped into the air around the Jedi, and since they could not block the huge projectiles with their lightsabers, they had to try to dodge them. They could only do so for a little amount of time, and each of the Jedi eventually had to duck for cover behind any ruins that would oblige.

Elliott and Allie had done the same, but they were farther back, allowing their group to be stretched thin.

The droids—there were apparently six of them—operated as a team. Once they had enough suppressing fire, two of the droids broke off and tried to flank the pinned down Jedi.

Realizing that their lightsabers were of little use, the Jedi deactivated them and were took up blasters. Range was all-important in this battle.

"Two of them are coming from the right!" Caius yelled, the sounds of gunfire muffling his voice.

"Allie and Elliott are too far behind!" said Bastila, "they'll get killed!"

"We can't move…" Caius said defeatedly, "we'll get killed too."

"Give me cover," she ordered, "I'm going back."

Four of the droids had holed up behind a huge fallen pillar, only revealing themselves when they were firing. And since there were more of them—and they had heavier guns—it was difficult to return fire.

Nevertheless, Caius and Xristos obliged. As soon as there was a break in the shooting, they ventured as far above the rubble as possible and shot as fast and hard as they could. The droids hesitated for a moment, and Bastila used the opportunity to jump to her feet. She wheeled around on her heels and sprung towards the rear. She leapt over a toppled pillar and then sprinted a good five more yards, her robes flailing behind her, before disappearing behind a broken structure. Caius and Xristos ducked down to reload, and instantly a volley of bullets shredded the top of the pillar they were using for cover. Chips of the mysterious texture exploded around them, raining down on their heads.

With his back up against the wall, Caius could see where Bastila had gone. She seemed to be encouraging Elliott and Allie, and then, when there was a temporary alleviation in the shooting, she coaxed them around a much larger ruin.

A bullet went screaming over his head, and Caius instinctively looked to the right of their natural foxhole. The two droids that had tried to flank them were there. The machines did not have a clear shot, but they could easily move in and finish off him and Xristos unless they retreated. Their automatic rifles opened up fire again, muzzle bursts exploding as they shot from the hip. More pieces of architecture rained down upon them.

"Xristos!" Caius exclaimed, "we have to move!"

Just as they were about to chance a blind retreat—which would have, in all likelihood, ended in their deaths—the rightmost droid's head exploded. A blue buzzsaw sliced through its neck, and the mechanical dome burst into flames, sparks flying everywhere. Smoke clouded his vision, but then Caius saw the blue buzzsaw even out. A singular beam blasted through the chassis of the war droid from behind. It then cut upwards, cleaving the machine into two pieces. Its metal plates morphed into molten lava around the edges of the 'wound'. The droid then dropped to its face.

The dust cleared and Caius saw Bastila standing where the droids had been. She was jumping slightly, like a boxer before a fight, waving her right hand in a circle. She seemed to be gesturing to someone.

Right as she had finished her motion, Elliott and Allie came scrambling out of some wreckage and around the corner. They hurried through the alleyway and into the position that Caius and Xristos held. Elliott had two blasters while Allie carried one in her good hand.

Caius was stunned, not expecting the turn of events. He said nothing, but Elliott relayed Bastila's orders. He said, "Give her suppressing fire!"

Caius nodded in the affirmative.

They waited for respite and then Caius yelled, "Now!"

All four of them raised themselves up and began firing on the enemy position. The droids hunkered down. Elliott fired both of his pistols wildly, Caius and Xristos barely aimed, and Allie fired as quickly as she could. Dust and dirt and pieces of ruins went scattering into the air, nearly destroying their visibility completely. Just as they were all about to reload, Bastila stuck.

Several beams of energy went flying from behind an adjacent building. The concentrated light struck three of the droids and instantly froze them. To his right, Caius saw Bastila emerge from an alleyway, only ten yards from their enemies, the anti-droid waves pouring forth from her hand. Her face bore a hardened look of cold determination, unfazed by the battle. Her right arm snapped forward and one of her blue lightsabers flung across the open ground. It sailed into the immobilized droids, severing each of their heads from their bodies in one blow. The fourth droid turned to face her. It scurried off to the side to avoid getting hit by the blue beam, and then fired at her.

Bastila did not move as the bullets whizzed past her, her brown hair ruffling as the shots nearly reached their target. She continued on undeterred. Her hands moved with the calm precision of a conductor as she began her next move. The sole remaining droid soared into the air, its weapon flying from its hand. It writhed in the air, but was unable to release itself. Bastila brought her left hand up, her show reaching its crescendo. Obeying its command, her blue lightsaber—still in the air—redirected its course. The gleaming javelin, instead of returning to her hand, arched upwards. It sang through the air and collided with the mid-section of the enemy droid. There was the sound of pure energy tearing through metal. The droid then crashed into the ground, utterly destroyed, and the deactivated lightsaber found its way into the awaiting hand of the Jedi. She put it on her belt and then turned away from the battle.

Though time seemed to have slowed, all of this happened in mere seconds. Bastila appeared to be moving in slow motion, her attacks were so seamless.

Elliott was the fist to leap over their cover and out into the open. The other three followed suit. As they approached, Caius noticed that Bastila was breathing quickly, but other than that she displayed no real signs of physical exertion.

"Bastila," Caius began in shock, "you killed all six droids."

She looked as though she did not know how to respond. She just gave an awkward shrug that said to everyone, "I guess so."

"Kick ass," said Elliott, "I didn't know you were that good! But I don't know what this means for us, Bastila. I can't date someone who could beat me up. Sorry, babe."

"Well," she began, her voice slightly more cheery, "at least that's one plus."

Elliott actually looked hurt by the comment, Caius observed. He thought to himself, Bastila—Warrior Jedi Princess. Soon after, some familiar beeping interrupted his thoughts. There was the noise of grinding gears and sliding dirt, and Caius turned to see T3 wheeling up to the group, whistling to himself blissfully.

"Where were you?" Allie asked the droid.

Another beep. Apparently he had been hiding. The little machine then began cursing at Bastila for taking his guns away.

Caius tried hard not to smile, and he noticed Allie was not keeping a straight face either. Apparently they were the only ones who understood the droid, as the other three seemed unable to understand why they were amused. Caius chuckled—enjoying the shared moment of amusement with Allie. He was about to explain, but he again saw something far away on the horizon. It was not a phantom and it was not war droids.

"Look over there," Caius said, pointing behind Bastila, "what is that?"

The whole party turned where he was indicating. Far off down the ruined road there was a wake of dirt being kicked up by a fast moving vehicle. It was a dark, low-riding speck, but was moving towards them with admirable speed.

The group instinctively got closer together as they saw it approaching. It sped onto the main road and was began a course straight at them. It drew closer and Caius saw that it was a multi-wheeled vehicle, three on each side. It looked like an armored personnel vehicle, but it was moving too fast for that. It was shaped like a symmetrical rock. As it drew closer the lights on its front beamed to life, shining brightly. They all squinted. The thing roared towards them, and by the time it was one hundred yards away they realized it was not stopping.

"Move!" Bastila yelled.

They all dove to the ground at the last second. The dark vehicle swerved and skidded behind them, screeching to a halt. Caius rolled, dirt all over him, and quickly got to his feet. He looked down to see Allie and he helped her up as well. They moved closer to Bastila and the others, who all seemed to be okay.

"What the hell!" Elliott yelled.

The back door of the vehicle jerked open and they were greeted by a fearsome figure. Out strode a disturbingly tall, surely seven feet, dark figure with a comedic black mask on its face, a freakishly gruesome smile upon it. From behind it, half a dozen or more Sith troopers filed out, semi-automatic rifles at their disposal.

Four lightsabers ignited. Allie stood behid Caius, and Elliott shifted behind Xristos. T3 vacated the premises.

The dark figure turned around, and then they were faced with a tragic scowl. Out stretched two long arms, covered with black armor. Two massive vibroswords—as dark as his dense robes—whirled into view.

Caius watched in dismay, but through the blades he discerned a familiar face. Inside the vehicle…he could see someone, unmoving.

"Dustil!" he yelled.

The Sith Lord stormed towards Caius, raised his sword high into the air, and swung.

A/N: Hmm, two cliffhangers in a row. Sorry about that. I wanted to include the fight in this chapter...but that would have made the chapter incredibly long-and I don't think you all would have enjoyed that :P. So I put it off for the next one.