Chapter 4

Foyi stumbled through a deceptively deep drift as her mind lost complete focus on the alley before her and the need for silent speed and inconspicuous stealth, despite the heavy armor and gear she carried upon her slight frame, in spite of the burning sensation that shot through her torso and even into her teeth every time her armor rubbed against her blaster burn. She lost focus as the cold, dark brine of shock, confusion, and fear struck her fully in the face, a wave of shock shuddering through the Force, originating from a source both dear and familiar to her.

Tama!

Foyi abandoned all pretense of stealth, caring not if she drew attention to herself as she sprinted down the remainder of the alley and into the street beyond, an avenue only a few blocks from the bustling spaceport. Only a block away, she saw five individuals, one of them her sister, being bodily hauled out of the snow from where she had been knocked down and savagely kicked. The other four were rough and ragged offworlders, large aliens intent on forcing Tama with them for some unknown and ill purpose. The steadily-decreasing wind was still cacophonous enough to prevent her from hearing exactly what was being said at this distance, though the offworlders were obviously arguing over her. Tama was alive, but she seemed dazed, hovering on the brink of unconsciousness, considering the way she slumped in the arms of the Weequay and Zygerrian.

Foyi felt pure, unbridled anger and cold fear, like the deepest, darkest depths of the sea suddenly boiling over with white-hot magma. Her sister had been hurt, and she had not been around to keep her safe, to protect her from all harm. Unconsciously she felt herself drawing upon those black depths of anger, letting the pain from her wound and the fear for her sister's life percolate and transform that anger into rage. The Force became tumultuous, like Yanibar's brooding, violent storms rising over the horizon to bear down upon any unfortunate or unwise enough to seek shelter. Her voice came out in a fear-twisted shout, and she nearly shrieked, "Hey, murglaks! Let go of my sister! Now!"

There was a moment of hesitation as the four would-be kidnappers whirled in surprise to face the lone Twi'lek, her robes flapping about her strange and imposing armor, her lekku twitching with rage, her eyes staring down the sights of the E-11 she had stolen. And suddenly, the moment ended, and without a word of challenge or surprise the pair of Houks, the Weequay, and the Zygerrian opened fire. Foyi immediately dropped in the snow as scarlet fire whizzed over her head. The dark emotions sloshing within her body screamed at her to fire, but the fear for her sister's longevity overrode that impulse, as suddenly dropping her face and blaster into the snow made it impossible to aim carefully; she dared not risk hitting her sister.

Foyi only remained prone for a split-second, rolling to the side and springing to her feet almost as soon as she collapsed. The Zygerrian had slung Tama's limp form across his shoulder and was already making a break for the nearest alleyway, the direction of his flight suggesting his ultimate destination being the spaceport. The Weequay was following directly behind him, leveling a blaster pistol and squeezing off a few shots that came nowhere within lethal vicinity. The Houks were the true threats though, having dropped to their knees and laying down a withering fusillade of suppressive fire. Foyi was forced to retreat into an alley opposite of the kidnappers' side of the street, slamming her shoulder against the stone wall of a local home, hissing at the pain caused by the impact in her wound. She refused to remain stationary or be pinned down. Her sister needed her. Foyi scrambled up the vertical stone wall, the Force giving her a boost of speed that propelled her to the roof, which gave her an immediate height advantage on the Houks and a brief moment of surprise. She depressed the trigger on the blaster, and red fire lanced out across the street, stitching one of the Houk's with red, angry wounds. The Houk gave a gasping squeal of pain as he collapsed forward in the snow, where he writhed and convulsed, still alive despite no less than five laser bolts burrowing into his chest and gut. The second Houk was not so surprised, retreating to the alley his compatriots had used as a means of escape.

Foyi fired another futile shot after the fleeing rogue, though he was already out of sight and thus out of range. But her connection to Tama gave her direction and approximate distance, a distance that was growing by the second as her sister drew closer to the looming, ice-flecked hangars of the spaceport. Foyi gritted her teeth, summoning her anger, her fear, feeling the surge of power and speed that those granted her as she vaulted off the roof and hit the snow-covered street running. Her right hand clutched the pistol grip of her E-11 while her left reached behind her and plucked the discblade from its holster. She felt a completion of body and spirit as she wielded the discblade in conjunction with her personal set of Zeison Sha armor granting her protection. Both armor and weapon had been crafted to acclimate to her own talents and proclivities, both like extensions of her physical self and the spiritual side of her that extended into and comingled with the Force. She could practically feel the discblade humming in her fist, thirsty for the blood of those who had harmed her sister.

She sprinted into the next street that ran parallel to the hangars and landing bays of the spaceport, ducking and evading a pair of landspeeders that nearly bowled her over as she crossed the street at breakneck speed. Foyi ignored the disgruntled cries and insults of the drivers she had inconvenienced, sliding to a halt as the shadows of the high walls surrounding the docking bays. Her eyes flicked back and forth, roaming over the faces of a dozen or so passerby, many of them spacers, all of them looking harried and worried. Her gaze alit upon the back of the fleeing Houk, just as he disappeared through the entrance to a docking bay, the door grinding to a close behind him. She bent forward and sprinted into the wind, angling for the doorway to the docking bay, which, sensing her presence, began to slide open. Foyi sank beneath the dark, turbulent waves of the Force and dropped into a slide, her speed and the ice coating the ground providing her momentum as she slid forward, partially on her back and her posterior. Her slide carried her through the entrance and into a sort of lobby or terminal, which was walled on three sides with a low ceiling that opened into the roughly circular, open-air expanse of the docking bay. In the center of the bay, snow melting atop its warming engines and ice clinging to the contours of its viewports, sat a Maka-Eekai L4000 transport, its rusted gray hull plating decorated with a few haphazard slashes and stripes of fading maroon paint. Emblazoned upon the hood over its cockpit was a faded symbol she could not identify, though it appeared Huttese in origin. Its boarding ramp was lowered to the ice, and standing at its base, their weapons at the ready, were three unrecognizable Houks and two more Weequay, parting to allow the Zygerrian and the Twi'lek still dangling over his shoulder to run up the ramp. And by the corner of the far end of the terminal, using the wall as cover while he aimed his blaster at the entrance from around the corner, was the Houk who had fled her initial onslaught.

All of these details Foyi observed in a millisecond, even as she was still sliding forward, though her momentum was slowing as her rear skidded across stone flooring mostly bereft of ice. Her blaster shifted in her hand, and even as the Houk fired above her head, having expected her to enter standing upright, she returned fire, and the laser bolt struck the Houk in the clavicle. He was thrown backwards, sprawling on the bay's stone floor, smoke and blood erupting from the mortal wound.

The thugs at the base of the ramp needed no other prompting to open fire, their greater numbers and Foyi's position causing her to dodge and weave as quickly as possible, the Force guiding her movements as she sought an avenue of escape. The "terminal" had become a veritable killbox, in which she was the target, trapped by the heavy crossfire. None of the Houk or Weequay were particularly accurate, but most were armed with blaster rifles, and were apparently unaware that their weapons were equipped with other firing modes besides autofire. Foyi ducked low and scuttled forward, returning fire as best she could, her left hand sweeping back and forth in a blur, the Force-crafted edge of the discblade blocking and reflecting blaster bolts off course. But one of the bolts found her hip, searing the side of it, the skirt of her armor taking most of the punch from the blow, though she felt her skin bubbling beneath in another serious burn. She dropped into a roll that became a low scramble, finally emerging from the confines of the terminal and into the actual docking bay itself, where the lack of a roof allowed the wind to swirl down and around in a helical fashion. Snow was flying every which way, obscuring the opponents' vision. Foyi sprinted perpendicular to the mercs' firing line, firing her blaster over her shoulder as she ran, angling for a prodigious pile of crates and cargo cylinders stacked along the docking bay's inner wall. One of her wild shots tagged a Weequay in the shin, and he sprawled on the boarding ramp, shrieking as a Houk began to drag him up the ramp and into the ship's interior. Foyi slid behind the cover offered by the cargo containers, the thud and screams of blaster bolts impacting the containers' metal ringing in her ears. The noise from the L4000's engines had grown from a high-pitched whine to a throaty roar that filled the docking bay with deafening noise, despite the insistent howls of the icy zephyrs swirling down into the open space. As she huddled behind the thick cover, cowering from the withering assault upon her position, Foyi felt the cold fingers of a new, darker wave caress her heart. The ship was lifting off, taking her sister with it, to the unimaginably vast and incomprehensibly complicated galaxy, where she could be lost forever. Foyi could not let this happen, but while the cargo provided protection, they also served to arrest her mobility. She could not show as much as a finger without the kidnappers shooting it off.

She wracked her brain, trying to think through the suffocating haze of negative emotion, the black turmoil of the darker waters of the Force. But the entire situation changed drastically when she saw movement by the gaping opening of the terminal, and two squads of snowtroopers emerged in the hangar, their leader shouting orders at the mercs across the expanse, ordering them to cease fire and to halt the startup sequence of their starship. The thugs answered predictably with another fusillade of blasterfire, though this was aimed at the snowtroopers and not at the hidden Twi'lek. Three snowtroopers collapsed in the snow in the initial blasts, while the rest began to spread out to set up a crossfire, some dropping to one knee and taking careful aim before firing. The docking bay was filled with the screams of deadly lasers and shrieks of the injured and dying. The engines only grew louder, accompanied by the whine of hydraulics that could barely be heard, unless someone was actively listening for such a sound, which Foyi was. She peered over the nearest container with tears brimming in her eyes as she saw the last of the Houks retreating into the L4000's belly, the ramp sliding closed behind him. One Houk and both Weequay lay on the ground, dead or dying. The snowtroopers poured fire at the ship mercilessly while two of their number attempted to hastily establish an E-Web Repeating Blaster, as small arms fire had little effect on hull plating capable of weathering starship-class weaponry. But they would be too late, for the L4000's landing gear had already retracted, and with a roar of drives, it shot vertically upward, clearing the confines of the docking bay before turning its nose skyward into the turbulent atmosphere and rocketing into the sky, the blue light of its afterburners fading rapidly in the distance.

Foyi felt a sob choking her throat as the blue lights disappeared into the clouds, taking her sister with them. Her sister was in danger, and could very well be lost to her forever. She had failed to protect Tama, and thus had lost everything she had, everything she held precious in this world.

The snowtrooper sergeant was speaking into his comlink, yelling orders to his subordinates to spread out and lock down the hangar. The pair of snowtroopers who had been setting up the E-Web turret were now dismantling it begrudgingly. None of them had spotted her, but two of the snowtroopers were already making their patrols, converging on her place of cover almost immediately.

Foyi felt the anger boiling within her again, but its focus had been redirected at herself. Tama was depending on her for the return of her freedom and the preservation of her safety and her life. Tama was her responsibility. Tama was her sister, her last surviving family member, and thus the only person in the entire galaxy whom she truly loved. Whom she would die for, over and over again. Tama was counting on her to save her, and Foyi could not do that if she remained here, wallowing in self-pity until the snowtroopers found her and threw her in the Imperial stockade.

With renewed determination and seething fury, Foyi quickly and quietly peeled away from the cargo containers, scurrying to the shadows by the hangar wall. She concentrated on the Force, submerging herself so deeply and completely beneath its encompassing ocean, that in the perception of most individuals, it would seem that she no longer existed. Stealthily and cautiously, she slunk along the inner wall, ducking between crates and shadows and other places of cover, sometimes passing within meters of particular snowtroopers, but the Force clouded their perceptions and vision, and she made it back to the entrance to the docking bay unmolested. From there, she sprinted back across the street and lost herself in the sprawl of alleys and buildings that was the village, pain flaring through her body from the burns, though a much deeper and more profound pain seared her soul even more so.

Tama awoke to an impact, the short, concussive force of her limp body hitting a solid, unyielding surface. Her eyes snapped open even as she hissed in pain, the dim lights of the starship interior brilliant in her pain-addled vision. Her hands were still bound beneath her, though she was able to use them and her knees to move up to a kneeling position; pain shot through her ribs and her side, forcing a gasp from her lungs. She found herself in the cargo hold of a starship she could not identify by its interior. The floor was stained and splattered with oil, the regurgitated contents of alien stomachs, and several dark smears of something that looked horribly like blood. Behind her, at the top of the boarding ramp, stood the Zygerrian, breathing heavily and running shaking fingers through his wild shock of scarlet hair. Around her in the dimly-lit bay stood several Houk, as well as a couple Weequay, most of them gasping for breath or holstering weapons. Tama made the mistake of looking one of the former in the eyes, and he swept down with his heavy fist in a strike that was far faster than a humanoid of his size would be expected to move. The blow connected with her jaw, and she spun to the deck, swimming in and out of consciousness as her world descended into a scintillating kaleidoscope of colors and hues.

When her vision no longer swayed and swam, she looked up to see a new Weequay standing over her. He was tall and lean, with prodigious dreadlocks hanging over his shoulder, a green bandana with white stripes across his protruding forehead. His dark eyes showed a perverse, self-amused glee, accompanied by a smirk that held no mirth or friendliness at all. He was dressed in a tight-fitting jacket made from nerf leather and spacers' trousers, while across his shoulder, clasped with a single gilt chain, was a wampa pelt that served as a sort of cape. On his hip rode a DL-44 Heavy Blaster Pistol, and at his belt was holstered a large and ornate vibrosword. He stared into her frightened gaze for a long moment, then returned his attention to those around him. "This being the new acquisition, eh?"

The Houk who had struck her answered first. "Aye, Cap'n Vri. This being her; she special, too. Some kinda Jeedai or something. She threw Warg an' I ten meters without ever once touching us none."

The Weequay known to her only as Captain Vri turned his head back and forth for a moment, then narrowed his gaze, his smirk becoming a scowl. "An' where is Warg? An' the rest of my crew?"

"They is dead or too hurt to keep up, Cap'n. We was attacked by another wormhead, an' she moved and shot too fast for 'em. Then we ran into a buncha stormies, and we nearly got away with our lifes!"

The Weequay Captain's scowl only grew more sour. "Once again, you've failed to keep a low profile. You nerfherders are s'posed to keep under the radar, not alert all the Imps in this system an' the next over!" His voice lowered to a dangerous purr as his attention returned to the prone Twi'lek at his feet. "Me men says you're being a Jeedai. I met Jeedai before, long time back, in the big Clone Wars. So let's see what you kin do, wormie."

The Houk who had punched her whispered to one of the Weequay beside him, "Tol's ya Jeedai is real. Cap'n says so."

"Shaddup, sleemo."

Tama looked up defiantly at the Weequay Captain, setting her quivering lips in a grim line and refusing to acquiesce to his demand. Captain Vri only held her gaze for a moment, then made a disappointed clucking sound in the back of his throat and regarded his subordinates. "Drug 'er and throw 'er in Cargo Bay D wit' the others. We got plenty fer Yuelo, an' we'll add her to the shipment to the Shepherd. Then get back to yer stations; it's a long way to Point Nadir."

Tama's violence-addled mind and the ringing in her ears was making it difficult for her to process outside stimuli, though she knew she had just received valuable information. But her struggling mind was unable to think through what she had just learned, and none of the names of people or places the captain had spoken of sounded remotely familiar to her. The Zygerrian's hands were suddenly grasping her upper arms, and as she weakly attempted to struggle free, someone off to the side and only visible in her peripheral vision shoved a needle into her arm. The darkness at the edges of her vision suddenly spread, until all she could see were thin tunnels of indistinct light and form. Her desperate gasps became slow, steady breaths. The last thing she was consciously aware of was her mind screaming at her to stay awake, and all she knew plunged within the depths of unconscious oblivion.

The town over the next day or two changed drastically, becoming almost unrecognizable as the Imperial garrison stationed there took every measure to consolidate a military show of force in the town. The spaceport was on lockdown, awaiting the arrival of reinforcements most likely in the form of shuttles and TIE Fighters. Squads of snowtroopers actively paraded through the streets, often accompanied by the few Reconnaissance Troop Transporters available to the garrison. There were checkpoints for vehicles and pedestrians at nearly every intersection, while the alleys were prowled by Mark IV Sentry Droids, their cameras sweeping and recording anything that moved or even looked remotely "suspicious". If one had asked the commander of the garrison, he would have proudly claimed that the new security measures made certain that the Imperial forces in the town knew of every event that occurred within its boundaries. And his claim would not be far off from the truth.

After her failure to rescue her sister at the docking bay, Foyi had retreated across town, hiding out in the same warehouse in which she had stashed the stolen 74-Z, spending hours in Force-induced healing trances to counteract the horrendous burns she had suffered. The trances had taken far longer than she had originally anticipated, for such an ability required inner peace, spiritual serenity, and careful concentration. All three of these she found incredibly difficult to accomplish, as she had not felt this much emotional and spiritual turmoil since the loss of her parents. The Force was like a sea of endless black waters, constantly stirred into choppy, icy sprays by cold winds. She felt raw, physically and emotionally, as if the skin of her existence had been flayed from her and she had somehow survived, and must contend with the radically different circumstances. Circumstances she could barely comprehend, much less mitigate. It all felt like a dream, a nightmare she struggled to awake from with every fiber of her being, though she still felt like she was drowning.

Foyi was only able to remain hidden in the abandoned warehouse for the first day, for in the early morning of the second, despite the heavy snowfall, the stormtroopers and their Sentry Droids were already sweeping the abandoned buildings and junk piles on the edge of town. Like a scared womp rat, she had slunk from her temporary home and taken to the streets, constantly on the move, despite the faded but nagging pain of her injuries, wandering through the town with no direction, no purpose. Her mind was completely occupied the entire time, however, as she wracked her brain for some sort of fool-proof plan in which she might save her sister. She knew she could not remain here, dodging Imperial checkpoints and patrols. Eventually, she would be caught, and then she would be cut off from her sister completely.

By the third day, Foyi had taken shelter in various small, residential sheds and shacks, giving herself enough time to more completely heal, and develop the vestiges of a plan to locate and rescue Tama. By the evening, she had carefully traveled across the town, shivering in the cold, everything she now owned in the world either worn on her person or in the satchel on her back. She gave several snowtrooper patrols a wide berth as she meandered toward her destination, glimpsing the contours of the squat, ugly facade of the building known as Fezzie's Fogblasters through the whirling snow.

Its interior was dark, most of the lights having been turned down to their lowest settings to make it difficult for any Imperial personnel entering the premises to identify individuals, providing its patrons a certain measure of anonymity. The catchy beat of "Kick the Ranat" played over the general tumult of voices and inebriated conversation, originating from a holo on the far stage depicting a set of musicians consisting of an Ortolan, a Kitonak, and a Pa'lowick on vocals who had one of the most grating voices the Twi'lek had ever heard. Floating Aurebesh letters named the holographic musical group as the Max Rebo Band, and the current performance was supposedly live from the Blue Moon, wherever the hell that was. Foyi paused a moment beside the door to survey the crowd, seeing the establishment packed nearly to the brim with spacers trapped on Yanibar by the Imperial lockdown, as well as disgruntled residents who wanted to lose themselves and their troubles in the bottom of a fogblaster. She opened herself to the Force, feeling its waves lapping at her consciousness, charged with the electric tension of fear and frustration. A momentary scuffle broke out in one of the corners where sabacc matches were held, though few of the patrons even paid attention to it, so absorbed in their own interactions or the preservation of their solitude, depending on the preferences of the particular patron.

Her eyes alit on the bar, almost all the stools of which were taken by beings downing shots or ordering consistent rounds of drinks. The owner and primary operator of the establishment, the Chadra-Fan known simply as Fezzie, looked haggard and worn, rushing back and forth on her dais, trying to keep track of the number of drinks and variety of orders. Through a window into the back kitchen, Foyi caught glimpses of the Verpine preparing the aforementioned orders. Foyi could not even begin to read the body language of a Verpine, but the chef looked similarly harried.

Foyi stalked across the cantina's floor, the music thudding against her eardrums and providing a cadence to her determined step. She slid onto a barstool beside a Rodian man nursing his drink and dropped her pack to the floor beside it, glowering over her folded hands as she stared intently at Fezzie, barely controlling her urge to leap across the bar to throttle the diminutive biped. Fezzie did not even see her at first, topping off the drinks of three Ithorians, sliding two fogblasters to a portly Zabrak, and slopping a thick, viscous liquid in a mug for an Arconan. The Verpine thrust a couple trays through the window, which Fezzie then slid across the bar to a couple of humans, the action of which shifted the Chadra-Fan's beady gaze enough for her to perceive Foyi. She pattered over to stand before her, her gaze judgmental and suspicious. "Foyi...been awhile. If you're looking for your sister, I can only tell you she was in here a day or two ago, and spent the whole time bothering me and my customers again. Didn't buy a damn thing, either."

Foyi folded her hands on the greasy bar and regarded the rude Chadra-Fan with a mixture of anger and disdain. "Yes, I am looking for my sister, though not her specifically. I need to know everything you know about some...characters she got involved with. Characters even more disrespectful than you. There was a Zygerrian, a few Houks, and a Weequay or two. Maybe they visited this lousy joint the same time my sister did."

Fezzie's dark gaze grew even more unfriendly, and through clenched teeth, she gave an angry whistling retort. "You know, I've never really liked your sister, but at least she pretends to be a decent customer. Perhaps you should learn from her."

"The spacers I was talking about. Did they come in here or not?"

Fezzie crossed her arms indignantly, letting out a breathy sigh. "I seem to remember a group such as you describe sitting at the booth by the door a few days ago. I think it was around the same time as your sister's unwanted presence, though I never saw them speaking with each other."

Foyi leaned forward, more eagerness than anger coloring her expression. "What do you know about them? Where are they from? Where did they go? Who do they work for?"

Fezzie snorted in impatience. "What do you think I am, an archivist droid? They told me nothing about themselves, and I didn't ask, 'cause I didn't care. They bought a couple rounds of drinks which they never drank, but that doesn't matter either, because I still got the creds owed me. That's all I know. You can't find your sister, don't come sniffing at my ears; keep better track of her next time." Effectively ending the conversation, Fezzie turned away and crossed to the other end of the bar, speaking with the obese Zabrak, who wished to order another tray of food, leaving the Twi'lek to simmer with frustration, anger, and the the far darker and more encompassing emotion of hopelessness, dragging her down into the depths of the deepest, coldest waters.

The Rodian man beside Foyi shifted, and out of her peripheral vision she could see that he had turned to face her, his large, multifaceted eyes regarding her strangely and intently. Rodians had always been a species Foyi found naturally repugnant, mostly due to their overwhelmingly powerful scents that smelled like voorcat droppings. A contributing factor of her discomfort around them was the fact that she was unable to read their facial expressions, and even extending her awareness in the Force only produced vague hints as to what any member of the species was actively thinking or feeling from moment to moment. This particular male appeared to be somewhat advanced in age, as his antennae were drooping slightly, and there were gray age patches on his faded green skin, particularly around his eyes. A barely-perceptible sound like the breeze through tree branches devoid of leaves issued from his snout every time he breathed, and his overlong fingers with their adhesive ends had adhered themselves to the countertop. He was dressed in simple, nondescript clothing, and no weapons were visible on his person, though the fact that he sat at the bar with his back facing an oft-hostile crowd suggested he could handle himself.

They held each others gaze for a moment, neither speaking, as if both of them were evaluating whether the other was actually looking at them. "Is there something you need?" Foyi asked in a tone that was far more hostile than it was inviting.

The Rodian bobbed his head, speaking in a soft, sly, reedy voice, his Basic thick with accent. "In this galaxy, many things all need. You need. I need. Perhaps, with cooperation, we no longer need for a time."

Foyi stood from her stool. "Look, pal, you either tell me what's on your mind in simple Basic, or shut your snout. I've got more important things to do than waste my time if you don't actually need anything."

The Rodian seemed undeterred by her hostile attitude. "Little Twi'lek doesn't listen very well. We have needs, which can be filled if we deal."

"Deal? For what?"

"You, for information. I, for credits." The Rodian leaned closer to her, whispering conspiratorially. "I know of the ones you seek. I know of your missing clan-mate. And for right price, you can know as well. Both of us happy, both no longer need. Yes?"

It was at this point that Foyi recognized the man. She had never met him in person, but she had heard rumors of Lido Intamm, the Rodian information broker who lurked around the spaceport, always having a suction-cupped finger on everything and anything of import that occurred on the planet. Most of the rumors agreed that Lido was an offworlder, though from there viewpoints diverged drastically on exactly when he had come to Yanibar, what his purpose was in the village, and how he seemed to know so much. Most gossipers seemed to agree that Lido was directly responsible for halting several small resistance cells and sabotage plans that were meant to be carried out against the local Imperial garrison, as the Imperial command structure on the planet supposedly regularly employed his services to pinpoint and decimate their enemies. If asked, most people in the village and the spaceport would attest that Lido was not to be trusted for any reason whatsoever, though he could supposedly be counted upon to act in the manner that would benefit him the most monetarily. As with any information broker, he realized the value of secrets, and made certain his clients paid top credit for them.

Foyi glanced around as her mind whirled. It was distinctly possible that Lido actually knew something about where the kidnappers took her sister, and for what purpose they would do so. But he could most likely tell she was desperate, and would thus try to take advantage of that, requiring her to pay a fee that would be exorbitant beyond belief. It was not that she was not willing to sacrifice all the credits in the galaxy if it would help her get her sister back, but she did not have access to all the galaxy's credits. She only had a little over a hundred credits to her name, the last of the money left by their parents, as well as her earnings from odd jobs over the years she had saved up to help herself and Tama survive. She knew it was wishful thinking to hope that Lido would be satisfied with such a paltry amount.

As she looked down at the Rodian, mentally chewing over his words, she found herself inevitably sizing him up, physically and emotionally, her sense testing his unique presence in the Force. Another idea came to her mind, one she was unsure would work, the very thought of which repulsed her. But then her mind turned to Tama, and the endless possibility of horrors and tortures she could be facing, and Foyi steeled her jaw and her mind.

"That sounds...acceptable," she replied evenly, while the rudimentary beginnings of a reprehensible deception and course of action formed in the forefront of her mind. "You're right, of course. I do need information, and I'm certain you need credits. The problem is, I may have difficulty on providing the necessary amount of credits."

The Rodian's bulbous eyes darkened and narrowed almost imperceptibly. Foyi would not have even noticed the change in mood if she was not currently reaching out through the Force to sense his presence and motive, and through this connection she sensed the choppy, gray waters of his persona shifted more toward blackness. "How much do you have?"

"How much are you asking?"

"At very least two thousand, if the full package is what you will be needing."

"The full package being...?"

"The names of those who kidnapped your clan-sister. Where their ship came from, where it's going. Why your clan-sister was taken. Most likely. Less money than asking, you can pick and choose what you want to know."

She made a show of thinking the offer through, then answered truthfully. "What would a hundred thirteen get me?"

The snort that issued from Lido's snout was obnoxiously loud and wheezy. "Not a karking thing. Have a need to make a living as well, I do."

Foyi leaned forward, dropping her voice to a hoarse whisper. "And what would a large, hot market item thrown in get me?"

Lido's face barely changed, but his mood brightened: she had intrigued him. "To what do you refer?"

"An Imperial 74-Z Speeder Bike. Near-mint condition."

Lido's large eyes narrowed again, and he cast a quick glance about the immediate vicinity to make certain no one was actively eavesdropping on their conversation. "We are speaking military-issue, no?"

Foyi decided to add another tidbit of information, if for no other reason than to draw him in further. "Used to belong to a Scout Trooper, though I don't think he'll have any need of it anytime soon. Or ever."

Lido was most definitely intrigued, as the emotional resonance of his Force signature lit with realization and excitement. "The lost Imperial patrol. You are the responsible party, yes?"

Foyi remained coy, withholding. "I never said that. I just happen to have a 74-Z I know the previous owner won't be coming back for. I know that it's worth a whole lot of credits, and if you're willing, I can make you the proud new owner, assuming your information on those mercs is good."

Lido sat in thought for a long moment, his antennae swaying back and forth slightly. He was making a good show of considering her offer, but Foyi already knew what his answer would be. Rodians may be nearly impossible for her to read with her eyes, but with the Force, his inner thoughts and emotions were laid bare. Lido would take the offer, not necessarily because he needed a speeder bike or wished to turn it around on the black market for a profit, but he would want to confirm that the vehicle in her possession was Imperial property. She knew that if the slippery information broker could confirm the vehicle's existence and associations, he would complete the deal with her, and immediately report her to the Imperial garrison for a massive payout, especially if his information led to her capture and/or subsequent execution.

But Foyi had anticipated this likely course of action on Lido's part. In fact, she was counting on it.

Lido had decided that enough time in his contemplative charade had passed, then sucked in a breathy burst of air through the rubbery lips of his snout. "Agreed, we are. But see the merchandise I must before I call our needs satisfied and our transaction finalized."

Foyi nodded. "I wouldn't have it any other way. If you'll follow me, I'll show you the warehouse where I have the speeder bike stored."

Lido glared at her suspiciously, and Foyi felt a spike of fear through her heart that Lido had suspected, or even divined, her true intentions. But the Rodian took a last, noisy slurp of his lomin ale, and heaved his body off his stool. "Speed and stealth are tantamount. Quickly and quietly we must leave, for the stormtroopers are always watching."

The abandoned warehouse was mostly undisturbed from the time she had been forced to leave by roving squads of investigative snowtrooper squads. The evidence of the Imperials' searching and rummaging was evident in the fact that most of the junk and salvage had been removed from their original positions, and the snow that had drifted through the open doors and windows had been trampled through the passage of dozens of pairs of boots. But the stormtroopers had not searched deep enough within the small, cramped building, not bothering to move the larger pieces of discarded machinery, bags of trash, and scrapped droid parts. Lido assisted Foyi in removing much of this garbage, until they uncovered the layers of torn tarps and stacks of debris that Foyi had originally used to conceal the bike. The 74-Z was no worse for wear, though most of its angles and surfaces were frosted in a fine layer of ice, which would probably make it difficult to start and run initially.

Lido walked around the vehicle with multifaceted, discerning eyes, his long-fingered hands entwined behind his back. He glanced up at the Twi'lek and asked, "It runs, no?"

Foyi walked to the bike, straddled the seat, and ran through the startup sequence. After a throaty cough, the bike roared to life, thrumming appreciatively as its engine warmed its chassis against the vile cold and the cloying ice. She thumbed the throttle for a moment, letting Lido hear the engines roar, then shut the bike down, not wanting to further risk the possibility that a passerby or neighbor would take notice of the noise and report it to the self-proclaimed authorities. She hopped free of the saddle and leaned over the bike, looking up at Lido's eyes. Her expression, previously open and hopeful, had become hard and thick with the promise of threat, as if carved from rage-filled stone. "And now, Lido, you're going to tell me all you know about those mercs and what happened to my sister."

"Only fair...you gave me bike, and needs are satisfied."

Foyi stood, her fists opening and clenching in anticipation. "I don't think you understand, Lido. I know your type, and I know what it is you plan to do. You plan to run off with this bike after spinning me some story that has just enough truth in it to keep me satisfied, and then you'll go lick the boots of your Imperial friends and sell me out."

Lido had the audacity to look offended, even as his hand snaked into his coat, slowly reaching for the hold-out blaster he kept tucked in a holster in his armpit. "To accuse such is not professional. And to act in such a way as accused is bad for business."

"But Imperial credits are good for business, aren't they? I've seen more than my share of friends and neighbors suffer and die at the hands of the Empire when they tried to stand up for what they believed in. Tried to regain the freedoms they lost when the Empire came marching through this nowhere village. And yet, they were far too often foiled, betrayed and discovered long before they could make any significant moves, by someone who always knew too much and was willing to sell anything. That's who you are, Lido. You may know what happened to my sister, but you also know I won't be able to help her if I'm stuck in the Imperial stockade. I refuse to let this happen. There's no way in hell I'm letting you walk out of here with this speeder bike, only to use it as evidence against me to further prevent me from saving my sister."

Lido sneered, not intimidated, his hand digging deeper in his coat. "You are only one of many who dares threaten me, little schutta. You wish not to deal, is fine by me, no? How I conduct my business and who I sell information to none of yours. So if you want the speeder bike so bad, keep it. I care not. But I keep information on your mercs with me."

Foyi's hand was a blur of almost-imperceptible motion as it snaked behind her back and withdrew the E-11 Blaster Rifle from its hidden position in her cloak. She brought the weapon to her shoulder, and kept the Rodian's face in her sights. "You weren't listening to me, Lido. I don't like you very much, and this town, this world, would be better off if they didn't have to worry about you discovering something 'treasonous' and immediately going and licking the Imp boots. But you will tell me of my sister, and you'll do it now."

Lido's hand yanked itself free of his coat, producing a hold-out blaster, just as she suspected. But before he could even level the weapon, she shifted her aim a few centimeters, and in the same motion, squeezed off a blaster shot. The laser leapt the intervening space and chewed a hole through the Rodian's rubbery hand, causing him to drop his weapon even as he shrieked in agony. Foyi noted with a distant, mental detachment that the Rodian's normal scent was nothing compared to that of his burning flesh.

Despite his injury, Lido was a survivalist and pragmaticist, and was already running for the dilapidated entrance to the warehouse. But Foyi was too fast, vaulting the bike and landing directly in front of the Rodian with a Force-enhanced leap, swiping the barrel of her blaster rifle into his face. Lido fell flat on his back with a squawk of pain and a undulating moan, curling into a fetal position around his wounded appendage. Foyi could feel her heart thudding in her ears and her lekku, her blood boiling with the heat of emotion, the Force flowing like vile, corrupting water through her veins. She tossed her blaster to the side, straddled the Rodian, and grabbed fistfuls of his coat, forcing his pained face to look up into her scared, hate-filled eyes. "Who are the kidnappers? Where did they take my sister?!"

Lido coughed, a phlegmy, discordant sound that whistled through his flapping snout. "Go...go to hell, schutta."

Her fist connected with the Rodian's jaw before she even realized she had swung, the Force behind the blow. The sound of fracturing bone and crushed cartilage erupted in the echoing space, and Lido squealed again, tears leaking from his eyes as he wavered on the edge of unconsciousness. She forced him to lock gazes with her own murderous regard. "You want to try a different answer, sleemo? Or am I going to have to hit you again? 'Cause if you want the truth, I'm really enjoying this." She had proclaimed the last sentence as an intimidation tactic, though she realized that it was truth. She could not deny to herself that she was certainly enjoying her own actions and Lido's reactions to them. The deepest, most vile depths of the Force were coursing through her, cresting over her like an overwhelming wave. She could feel Lido's pain, she could feel her own absolute control over his fate. The power to hold the Rodian's life in her hands filled her consciousness, and she was drunk with it. She had never fully used the Force in such a way, nor experienced the dark satisfaction to be found in realizing another living being was completely at her mercy.

Lido's snout was dribbling blood even as a large, black splotch of bruised skin spread across the left side of his face. He worked his mouth, and whimpered as she heard the shattered bits of bone and cartilage in his face moving as he tried to speak. "They're...work for the Anjiliacs, they do. Warg, Utt, Bowarm, Vohlgast..." He moaned pitifully.

Foyi leaned forward, her face drawing within centimeters of Lido's. "What was the name of their ship? Who was their captain? Why do they want my sister?"

Lido shook his head, his eyes barely focusing on anything at all. "Never...knew their ship. Never met their captain. They were drunk one night when I asked them questions, satisfying my need for information...most willingly. They worked for the Anjiliac Kajidic. From Nar Shaddaa, they were, though one of the Houks claimed they worked directly for the Anjiliacs at Point Nadir." He spat a thick glob of blood from his snout. "They're slavers. Here they were for a few weeks, kidnapping people who would not be missed, to take them away to Nar Shaddaa. Your sister was only one of many; a good slave girl or prostitute she'll make, yes?"

Foyi slammed a fist into the bruises on his face as a surge of uncontrollable rage welled within her at his words. Lido howled long and loud, which descended into frantic, agonized sobs. Foyi's free hand gripped his throat, and she yelled over his blubbering, "Where is Point Nadir? Are they taking her there, or Nar Shaddaa? Where do I start looking?"

Lido spoke through heavy sobs and squirting blood. "I-I don't know, no? They were drunk, not knowing what they said. Point Nadir is an old spacers' tale, stupid schutta. A shadowport safe from all authority, run jointly by the Hutts and other crimelords. It...it's a myth! It doesn't exist!"

"How do you know?!"

"Because Hutts don't share anything! Especially the Anjiliacs!"

Foyi considered his words for a moment, then wrapped her long fingers around his injured jaw. "Then they're going to Nar Shaddaa?"

Lido nodded, too overwhelmed by pain and sobs to speak properly. But Foyi had no time for this; she shook him again, more forcefully this time. "Then where do I start looking on Nar Shaddaa?"

Lido shook his head. "I...I don't...know. Don't ask...me...Look for somewhere...the Anjiliacs hold power, yes?"

Foyi let go of his face and coat, letting him slump to the floor as she stood, the Rodian's information swirling through her brain. Throughout the entire interrogation, she had been intimately attuned to Lido's emotions and mental state, had felt his profound fear and encompassing pain. More importantly, she had sensed the finality and certainty he felt when he gave her his answers. Whether he was relaying facts or not, he believed them to be the truth. And so she would have to operate on the assumption that he knew the truth, and believe it to be so. Which meant Tama would be taken somewhere on Nar Shaddaa, most likely to the infamous slave markets that existed there that so many unfortunate beings, Twi'lek females in particular, were haggled over and bartered for. But she would not ignore the possibility of this place called Point Nadir, wherever that was. It must mean something important, or else the drunk Houk who had spoken of it when conversing with Lido would not have mentioned it.

Lido gave a loud, wailing moan, and Foyi was snapped back to the present. The Rodian was still lying at her feet, broken and maimed, his consciousness fleeting. Seeing him like that made her realize that she must determine what was to be done with him; he knew too much now regarding her and her activities over the past week, activities the Imperials would be all too happy to be informed of. There must be no more distractions, no more obstacles between her and her mission to rescue her sister from the hopelessness and violation of a slave's life. And as she considered what was best for Tama, her decision on Lido's fate was made for her. She stretched out her hand, a current of thought extending from her fingers and further into the warehouse. The E-11 slapped into her palm, and without hesitation, she discharged the blaster into the Rodian's torso. Lido let out a yelp, and the last of his life's breath whistled through his snout before he fell still and silent.

Foyi looked down at the blaster and her hands, small flecks of blood staining the knuckles. Her hands were shaking, and her efforts to still them were in vain. She felt raw, drained, cold, as if she had been lulled into a deep sleep, and the Rodian's death had violently brought her back to wakefulness. She felt revulsion beginning to build within her gut, and she doubled over for a moment as she fought the urge to vomit. She could still feel the Force, though it felt wrong to her. No longer did the power over Lido's life and death bring her pleasure, but now she only felt pain, shame, and self-loathing for her actions. She had lost herself for a moment there; she had let herself fall out of balance, drawing too deeply from the darker aspect of the Force. She had given herself over to the Dark Side for only a moment, and in that time, she had managed to torture and murder a living, breathing, being, who had as much right to live and feel safe as her sister did. She found herself remembering the Zeison Sha Master who had gone out into the wilds to hunt and slaughter every voorcat he could find in retribution for the loss of his family. She remembered the burning, seething hatred glowering in his dark eyes, the way his skin had aged and shriveled, as if his physical forms could barely control the storm of Dark Force energy bound within his soul. She remembered being in his presence even as the other Masters attempted to pull her and the other Initiates away from him. He had felt empty, cold, uncaring, or perhaps caring too much.

He had been like death itself. She could not help looking down at the Rodian corpse at her feet, and think of the Rodian Master who had given himself over to the Dark Side.

But then images of Tama fixing soup, practicing her Force powers, making mynock impressions in the snow with her flailing arms and legs swam into her consciousness. A new urgency shook her from her self-hating reverie. Tama needed her days ago, and her desperation and situation would only worsen the longer Foyi delayed. She had no time for regret or reflection. Whatever she had to do to make her sister safe and happy again she must do, whatever the cost.

She drug the body to the nearest pile of discarded fuel drums and droid parts and with a quick Force shove toppled the haphazard stack atop the corpse, hiding it at least for the time being. If anyone nearby had ignored the sounds of the speeder bike's throttle, they would definitely have reported the blaster shots by now. She probably had only a moment or two before squads of snowtroopers descended on this warehouse, and she was captured or killed. It was time for speed and action. It was time to go and save Tama.

Somehow, she had to get to Nar Shaddaa. And possibly this mythical Point Nadir.