Chapter 27

Smoke poured into the sky, providing yet another layer of atmospheric obscurity for the high sun's rays to attempt to filter through in vain. With the smoke came the first flashes of flames licking up from the ruined drive engines of HAVw A5 Juggernaut's rear pair of wheels, which the lieutenant led the troopers directly under his command to desperately extinguish. The stench produced by the damage inflicted upon the heavy assault vehicle only added to the natural odors suffused by Felucia's spore-laden winds and hearty mushrooms, as well as those produced by the spilled blood in the mud, and the charred flesh of the bodies strewn across the bottom of the basin. The majority of the Felucian hunting party the Imperial party had discovered in heated battle with unknown individuals had been decimated by the excellent aim of the tank's gunners, as well as the Inquisitor and her own set of troops.

The Inquisitor stalked silently through the battlefield, her stride carrying her over the crumpled and battered corpses of the Jungle Felucians, her zeyd-cloth robes flapping about her thin but powerful armored limbs. She strode past the body of a rancor that had been struck multiple times with the laser cannons affixed to the heavy assault vehicle. There was a burn carved from the rancor's throat down to its groin, where her own Force lightning had electrocuted its tough hide, practically boiling it from inside. The sarlacc many meters away continued to groan and occasionally shriek, though its waving tentacles no longer ventured far from its gaping maw, curling close about the tower protruding from its fanged gullet. The tower represented the remnants of a giant stabilizer that had been constructed when the Empire had greater interests in maintaining control over Felucia, and mostly destroyed by the mysterious Jedi-killer who had been present on the world two years before. The majority of its flailing, grasping appendages had been severely burned or damaged beyond repair by the Inquisitor and her troops, assaulting them with Force lightning and heavy blaster weaponry whenever they dared to attack the Imperial contingent. They had inflicted such pain upon the unfortunate creature that it had finally had enough, and deigned to let the victorious Imperials walk across its skin and near its mouth unmolested.

The Inquisitor ignored the efforts of the lieutenant and his men and proceeded across the organic ground beneath her feet, avoiding the ulcerative pools of caustic pus leaking from the sarlacc's ill body. She strode toward a stretch of the otherworldly landscape where the heaviest fighting had occurred, littered with the bodies of Felucians, torn asunder by blasterfire, explosives, and Force powers. The Inquisitorium Dark Troopers that had accompanied her were standing guard around a trio of Felucians who had been stunned by concussion grenades and subsequently beaten into submission when their fury and strength in the Dark Side had allowed them to shrug off the sonic grenades' effects quicker than they should have been able to. The Felucians were kneeling in the mud, their clammy skin splattered with grime and blood, discolored by both the stripes of phosphorescent paint and ugly bruises. Two of the Felucians were larger than the last, their stripes a bright crimson in coloration, their masks and headdresses more elaborate than the simple covering worn by the third, who seemed to be a tribal Warrior, with blue paint and brief clothing. All three of the natives seethed in the Force, their features practically obscured by the dark miasma of colors leaking from their auras in the Inquisitor's sight. Most of those colors were dark, shivering as they rose from the Felucians' bodies as if marred by heat distortions, struck through with bright flashes of indigo, maroon, and violet. Upon seeing her approach, those colors darkened further, and the Inquisitor could practically taste their hatred on the back of her tongue. It was scrumptious.

The Devaronian stopped in front of the prisoners and dropped into a crouch, bringing herself to eye level with the primitives. This close to them, the power they were capable of commanding was intoxicating and encouraging. These were creatures naturally gifted with the Force, developing on a world that had one of the most unique spiritual ecosystem she had yet to encounter, ecosystems that had been discolored and disquieted by the Dark Side. And so they had long ago lost themselves to it, calling upon the darker aspect of the Force as much through instinct as through sheer will, their hatred, rage, and bloodlust all intertwining to form a coiled, insidious worm of destruction, disease, and devolution at the core of their souls. She found their affinity for the Dark Side fascinating and tantalizing; with some extensive training, they could be taught to better control and utilize their powers, to take full control over their own destinies.

She fixed her dark gaze on the pair of Felucians painted in garish scarlet colors. "You are the Shamans of your people, I presume?"

She got only grunts in response, as well as a series of small barks and guttural vociferations she could not translate. The scout beside the pair of shamans gave his own screech, his anger suffusing the space between them; one of the Dark Troopers struck the Felucian's shoulder with the stock of his heavy blaster rifle, eliciting a sharp crack and a cry of pain. The Inquisitor paid the action no heed, keeping her gaze upon the Shamans. "Here's another question: Who were those three you were so intent upon killing?"

The Felucian Shamans' faces were nearly impossible to read. They were too alien for her to pick up on their facial expressions, assuming they even used such a form of body language to communicate. One of the Shamans said something in a sequence of snarls and groans. The Inquisitor reached into the Force with tendrils of gold intent, attempting to divine the meaning behind the alien language, but the Shamans' thoughts were so vague, strange, and tumultuous, she could not make sense of them through her empathic abilities. Even so, there were means by which language barriers could be traversed, and they would need to be, if these creatures were going to be of any use to the Empire. To her.

She leaned forward, her gaze menacing, letting her presence in the Force swell with malice and threat, the dark colors surrounding herself reaching out like grasping claws of demonic spirits of the Dark Side to the natives before her. "We may not understand each other now, but understand this: we shall all be spending a great deal of time together in the near future. And you will come to comprehend me intimately."

The Felucians could not comprehend the Basic words she spoke, but they could feel the meaning behind them, her presence and power in the Dark Side. They could feel the threat she represented, one greater than themselves. They were powerful in the Force, but their usage of it was too instinctual and irrational. They could not match the abilities she could call upon, born of years of practice and experience. And so the threat they felt from her was palpable, and their reaction in the Force was a mixture of anger, fear, and helplessness. The two Shamans, recognizing a Force-user beyond their ability to combat held them fully within her grasp, were cowed, their heads lowering and their shoulders slumping in a gesture of forced deference. But the Felucian Warrior, barely sane to begin with, only regarded her threatening presence as a challenge, and with a sudden scream and a surge of the Force that knocked the closest Dark Trooper back from him, the scout leapt forward, the pseudopods of his primary arms stretching out for her throat. The Force gathered around those limbs as the screeching alien rushed for the Devaronian.

But the Inquisitor was not so easily surprised; both her training and supernatural senses had expected such an attack, and had foreseen it moments before it had occurred. Even as the warrior was leaping toward her, her palm came forward, the Force racing about and out from her in strands of gold and silver to arrest the Felucian's momentum midair. The Felucian gave a squawk of surprise and hatred as the Inquisitor gathered the Dark Side, bringing it to bear upon the very essence of the Felucian, letting the infinite energy of the Force streak through the very molecular structure of the struggling alien. The Felucian Warrior's grunts and barks became a shriek as the Inquisitor reached deep into the creature's physical form, sensing the somatic structure of the humanoid and bringing the full force of her terrible will upon it. The Felucian continued to scream long and loud as uncontrollable energy built within its cells, ripping through the atomic bonds that held it together. The Devaronian's open palm closed into a sudden and sharp fist, and the air split with the ripping sound of thunder as the Felucian exploded in a rain of bone fragments, slabs of painted flesh, and a tsunami of blood. The Shamans cringed as their comrade's remains soaked them completely, while the Dark Troopers standing guard and the Inquisitor did not even react as gore splattered their armor.

The Inquisitor stood, absentmindedly smearing the Felucian's thick blood over the ultrachrome surface of her armored breastplate, and heard a small gasp of shock from behind her. She turned her head to look back over her shoulder, to find the lieutenant, his sweaty uniform now spattered with blood, a slushy smear of gore that may have once been muscle stuck to his forehead. He wiped the gore from his face with a hand that shook uncontrollably, then swallowed so hard, she could see his larynx bobbing wildly. She was annoyed that her intense usage of the Force had blinded her momentarily to her immediate surroundings, thus allowing the Imperial officer to approach without her knowledge, and this showed in the biting snarl she levered his way. "What do you want, Lieutenant?"

He swallowed again, and fought hard to keep his voice from quavering. "A report, Inquisitor. Um...the A5 has been knocked out of...commission. It will require extensive repairs to the rear drive engines and wheels, if not full replacements." He glanced nervously in the direction of the sarlacc pit, which was far too close for his comfort. "Neither of which I believe we will be able to accomplish...here."

The Devaronian gave him a cold look. "Are you telling me we should abandon the Juggernaut?"

The lieutenant's aura colored with fear again. "I...yes, Inquisitor. I don't see any other way of getting it back to base...it won't drive anymore..."

The Inquisitor returned her attention to the pair of Shamans still kneeling before her. The one that had been closest to the deceased Warrior had eyes only for the smear of blood and viscera on the ground that had been their companion, while the other merely stared down at his knees, utterly defeated. Despite the news just given her, the Devaronian could not suppress a smile at the Felucians' expense. "Very well. Leave it here. Return to base, and take these two with you. Make certain they are kept under the tightest security. Some of my Dark Troopers will go with you to make certain they do not try anything as foolish as their friend just did."

She could feel the lieutenant's relief coloring his presence, which was soon overshadowed by the prospect of returning to the garrison's base in Kway Teow on foot. He cleared his throat again. "May I...may I inquire, Inquisitor, what you intend to do?"

The Dark Troopers guarding the pair of prisoners hauled them both to their feet, and began marching them back toward the Juggernaut, where the main force of stormtroopers and specialized squads had congregated. The Inquisitor turned to watch them, raising her hood over her sweat-slicked hair, despite the heat and humidity of the day, and began following them. The lieutenant hurried to catch up to her lengthy stride, in order to hear her next words. "I find myself curious as to the identities of the three individuals who these savages were trying so desperately to kill. Who called upon abilities of their own to neutralize our tank. The Force was strong with at least two of them, and I wish to know what offworlders are doing on Felucia during this time. I will be taking the rest of the Dark Troopers, Terror Troopers, and the Purge Trooper with me to find them."

The lieutenant nodded, regaining his composure the best he could. "You intend to hunt them down then, ma—Inquisitor?"

She gave him a predatory smile completely devoid of warmth or mirth. "It's what I do best, Lieutenant."

Vaevi scrambled back down the hoary hide of a mushroom stalk, using protrusions like tubular branches as supports for her grasping hands and quick, careful feet. She landed in the mud at the mushroom's base in a low squat, splattering her trousers with spore-heavy liquid, though she paid it no mind. She stood and levered a grimace at her two companions, who were expectantly awaiting her report. "I...have no idea where we are in relation to the path."

Foyi, who had been expecting as such but had been hoping for better news, deflated, allowing herself to slump against the bole of another massive growth of fungus. She grimaced as the motion produced pain in the multitude of lacerations and bruises across her body, then heaved a sigh. "So we are lost. Karkin' natives. Karkin' Imps!"

Rayf, who was similarly hurt and using his wan-shen to help support him in a standing position, sent her an eddy of encouragement and sympathy. "We're not lost, sweetheart. We're just...momentarily sidetracked."

The Iktotchi shook her head. "Oh, we're most definitely lost. I couldn't spot any recognizable landmarks when I climbed up there."

"You're not very positive, you know that, Vaevi?"

"I'm pragmatic. You hold hope in one hand and let an anooba piss in the other, and see which one fills up faster."

Rayf scoffed, though a slight grin did light his face. "You are very colorful, though."

"I'm a bounty hunter. We're a colorful bunch."

Foyi fixed the Iktotchi with another hopeful expression. "Have you gotten anymore visions that might give us a clue as to where to go? Where to start looking, even?"

Vaevi spread her hands in a helpless but apologetic gesture. "I've had a few impressions here and there, but nothing noteworthy. Hell, kid, I didn't even see those Imperials in that blasted Juggernaut attacking us, and that was probably one of the most eventful things to ever happen to me. I think it's safe to say we can't rely on my prevalence for prescience, 'cause it's vague in the best circumstances. If I 'see' anything, I'll let you know." She pulled her C-10 Heavy Blaster Pistol and checked the charge on the power pack before ramming the weapon home in its holster. "What about you? The two of you know the Force...can you sense the younglings, or this Shepherd murglak?"

Rayf shook his head slowly before Foyi could reply negatively. "If we could, we would have probably found them by now. The Dark Side...clouds everything on this world. Even Foyi, with her close connection to her sister, and both of their Force-sensitivities, has only been able to sense her presence when close to the trail we were following."

"Which is why we were following it," Foyi added dejectedly. "I thought...it might lead us to her."

Vaevi peered through the few gaps in the canopy above, where the sun dared to pierce through the spores and cloying atmosphere. "Well, while we consider our options, I recommend we keep moving. Find another defensible position. We haven't put enough distance between us and those Imps for my tastes, considering we've most certainly jumped to the top of their kill list with your little maneuvers back there. That was a neat trick with the boulder back there, Foyi." The Iktotchi looked uncomfortable, and she turned to continue the trek through the jungles, murmuring over her shoulder. "And...with the sarlacc, too. Thanks for that..."

Foyi's only acknowledgment to her statements was a stiff nod, lost in her own dark thoughts of defeat and longing. She was finding it difficult to imagine the face of her sister, and she could feel fear swelling in her chest at that realization, fear that clambered up her esophagus and threatened to choke her with suppressed sobs. She stood and followed Vaevi's trail, though she was not actually looking where she was going, merely moving automatically. Rayf strode to her side and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "We'll find her, Foyi," he said in a hoarse voice. "Don't give up on Tama. I haven't, and I've never even met her."

Foyi allowed a small smile to curve her lips. "You would like her, I think. She would definitely like you. She like scoundrels and drifters and rocket jockeys."

Rayf chuckled. "Well, she sounds like more fun than you are."

Foyi responded to that with a light punch to his shoulder, but there was no strength to it. Her mood was gloomy, and she was having difficulty hanging onto hope. Rayf was simply trying to keep her spirits up. After all, feeling pity for oneself and doubt about her goals would not help her, and it would most definitely not help her sister. "Honestly, I've always thought she's a poor judge of character. Though now I think she might just see the good in even the most dangerous and aggravating of scoundrels."

"A rare skill to have. One that she didn't learn from her older sister."

"Would you like an injury on your mouth too?"

Rayf gave her a look of mock bewilderment. "But...how would I regale you with the sweet sound of my voice?"

"Silence is sweet too, you know."

"But then you'd be all glum and brooding, and that's not going to help anyone."

Foyi wanted to argue with that, but it was a fair observation, so she merely shrugged. "You already know me too well."

"I should. We are cousins, after all."

"We most definitely are not," Foyi replied vehemently. When he gave her a look between curiosity and hurt, she responded with a shy murmur. "I think...we've formed a bond that places us beyond calling ourselves cousins. It would be...weird."

Rayf considered that for a moment, as though it was worth deep contemplation. Then he broke into another grin. "What if I enjoy making things weird?"

Vaevi, who had been leading their trek through the jungle while Foyi and Rayf remained engaged in conversation, turned back to them with a stern scowl on her face. She was carrying her E-11s Sniper Rifle in her hands, holding it across her body in a ready position in case they ran across anymore surprise threats. "If you two could restrain yourselves from more heartwarming moments," she hissed, "maybe we can find a defensible place to camp and reconnoiter without alerting every creature that wants to kill us in this jungle."

Foyi bit her tongue sheepishly, feeling admonished, for the bounty hunter was correct. She had lost her focus for a moment, mostly due to Rayf's urging and her own need to distract herself from the despair that continued to plague her consciousness. She cast a sidelong glance at the Matukai Adept walking beside her, and he met her regard, cocking an eyebrow and flashing a rakish grin. Foyi kept her eyes resolutely forward, trying to ignore the smug satisfaction and feelings of mischievousness she empathically experienced rolling off Rayf's presence. By that time, Vaevi had turned around and set their pace at a brisk march, despite the lethargy and soreness in their limbs brought on by overexertion and the prevalence of lactic acid. But no one in the trio complained about the pace, nor how they longed for sustenance and sleep. They maintained their focus on the stated goal of finding a relatively safe place to camp, for they knew not how they would find Tama, the Shepherd, and the other prisoners. To think too far in the future would invite consideration of a quandary that they had yet to solve.

The day had already grown long and their forced march had carried them multiple kilometers before they found a place that met their specifications for a camp. The ground had become tumultuous and ragged the further they had traveled, steadily rising into a series of ridges and undulating heights, covered in moss and tangled mushrooms. One of those ridges ahead of them rose dozens of meters in the air, climbing into the sky in a steep outcropping of rock stretching high above the canopies of the jungle. A small grove of mushrooms and fungal stalks crowned the jagged peak of the ridge, and the thick vegetation provided ample means of climbing up to that peak, assuming one was properly motivated. Vaevi crested a lower hill and braced her sniper rifle against her shoulder, peering through the targeting scope up at the peak of the outcropping before them. "I don't see anything moving in those woods up there," she said in a low voice. "If we can get up there, they would make excellent cover. And we would have a hell of a view for klicks all around from up there."

Foyi let a gasp escape her lips as she attempted to regain her air. After the injuries she had suffered in recent weeks, both new and old, and the duration of the hike they had just conducted, she could barely stand up straight. "Maybe we could spot the trail again. Or at very least, some land feature we recognize."

The Iktotchi slung the weapon across her back and clambered over the ridge to approach the outcropping that demanded their attention. "My thoughts exactly."

The three of them reached the base of the jagged spire of rock without further comment, and fixated their attention on climbing up its slopes, using strands of fungus and thick clumps of moss to ascend at the points that were too steep to walk or crawl across. Despite the size of the outcropping and the distance of their climb, they reached the grove of mushrooms atop the spire of stone and slippery mud within several minutes, and the sun, what little they could see of it through the roiling clouds and persistent haze on the horizon, still shone through the grove's canopy in patches of dim illumination. The wind whistled through the fungal stalks and stacked, bulbous fungi at this height, while darker clouds in the distance rumbled like the sonic violations created by starships in reentry. Rayf peered through the gaps of the fungal trunks at the brooding sky. "Storm's coming. Judging by the wind speed, we're probably all going to be miserable shortly after nightfall."

Vaevi shrugged as she began clearing a small area of stone upon which they could establish a campsite. "I've never minded the rain myself."

Foyi squatted down within the cleared area, reaching deep within the murky waters of her consciousness to find her calm center. She stilled her breathing, forcing it to be drawn slowly through her lungs in order to counteract her fatigue. "I've lived with Yanibar's storms all my life. I think I'll be fine."

Rayf cracked an easy grin. "We'll see when you're getting soaked through. In my experience, most people despise sitting out in the rain."

"In my experience, most people don't plan accordingly," Vaevi responded as she dug through her pack. She extracted a small packet not much larger than her fist, which appeared to be a folded contraption of polyskin and a small frame of flexisteel. "Fortunately for you two whining squalls, I'm not most people." She placed the packet on the rock before her, pressed her fingers on a seal along the edge, then stepped back as the packet began to unfold itself into a conveyance of articulated ribs and stretched, semi-transparent polyskin; each time the device unfolded, it grew larger, and took a more defined, geometric shape. When the device had completed the process of enlargement, it had transformed into a small, four-sided tent with a slanted roof and an entrance that could be sealed against the elements. "It's meant for two, but I'm sure all three of us can use it if we don't mind being a little cozy."

Rayf shifted glances between both the Twi'lek and Iktotchi, his rakish grin never leaving his face. "Getting cozy with two ravishing women? I don't mind at all."

Foyi let out a snort of derision. "I think I'd rather just sit out in the rain." The idea made her uncomfortable, certainly, though she could not deny a small part of her finding Rayf's suggestion appealing as well.

Vaevi, however, did not seem the least bit amused. "I'm old enough to be your mother, flyboy."

Rayf shrugged. "I'm not picky."

"Your kind usually aren't."

"And what exactly do you mean by my kind?"

"Spacers," Vaevi spat, as though the word were an expletive.

Foyi turned her attention from her bickering counterparts and walked to the edge of the outcropping, peering out over the sea of jungles stretching out as far as she could see, which was not always to the horizon, due to the gathering thunderheads and infrequent mists of spores and thickened water vapors. She stood on the lip of the edge and breathed deeply of the sickening air, sweeping her gaze all about her in an attempt to espy structures or terrain features she might recognize. But the distances she could perceive were hazy and circumspect at best, the rising and falling of the terrain blooming with random protrusions of fungi, or bisected by trails of dark, sludgy water that were usually only recognizable at this distance by the sun glinting off their waves. She let out another sigh, only this one was born of despair, and dejectedly, she turned back to the campsite and dropped into a cross-legged sitting position. She looked up at both Rayf and Vaevi, her eyes drooping with both exhaustion and sadness, though ultimately she was too tired to even realize she was bereft of hope. "I don't see anything out there that I recognize. I can't place our position relative to where we were. If only we hadn't run across those Felucians...or those Imperials..."

Rayf shrugged, though she understood that he was similarly despondent. "There's not much we could've done...the path led right through that valley, the sarlacc, and the ruins of that Felucian town. And we all know the Empire has no love for Felucians, or Force-users who don't fall under their strict doctrines. A conflict was regrettably inevitable."

Vaevi also sighed as she dug some travel rations from her pack. "Force-crazed natives...Stormies and Jedi-hunters...no bounty's worth this."

Rafy gave her an even stare. "You're right, you know. The bounty on the Shepherd is considerable, but it hardly seems worth the risks you've already taken. I don't wanna sound like I'm trying to cut you out of any potential rewards, Vaevi, but Foyi and I are here to rescue her sister, and we're prepared to risk everything for that. We don't care about credits; we only care about getting her, and the Shepherd's other victims, home to their families and bringing this Hutt-licker to justice. You've been an invaluable help to us so far, but we would be remiss to expect you to do anything more for us. Not if you're unwilling to risk everything."

Vaevi gave him a severe look, but there was no steel behind it. She glanced back down at the rations laying uneaten in her palms, then placed them back in the case they had been kept in. "Today, both of you have saved my life, and you have been forthcoming regarding your intentions and goals here. It's time for me to return the favor; you've earned that much." She turned to face both Foyi and Rayf, and the pain and anguish, the old wound that had lurked just beneath the woman's mercenary facade, was no longer hidden, but displayed prominently upon her face. Her emotions had gone from stilled and suppressed to a dark sea of undulating, foaming waves, and the unresolved pain that radiated from her was an unexpectedly frigid splash against Foyi's extrasensory perceptions.

"The truth is," the Iktotchi began in a grim voice, looking down at the stone beneath her again, "I wasn't always a bounty hunter. I used to be a migrant worker, moving from job to job within the fuel export industries on Malastare, until I met the man I would later marry and have younglings with, and for awhile, I focused all my time and effort on raising our children, while he provided credits and shelter for our family." She quirked a wistful smile. "It wasn't the life you see in the holos, but for awhile, it was nice, and...I was happy." She brought her hands to her eyes and rubbed them, while her voice became more strained as she attempted to continue her story with an even tone. "I'm not just here for the bounty; actually, I could really care less about the credits. I'm here for the Shepherd."

"Why?" Foyi dared to ask, suspecting the story behind her motivations was an agonizing one, but she prompted its continuation anyway.

"I think this monster who calls himself 'the Shepherd' was once my husband."

Whatever Foyi or Rayf had expected to hear from her, it had been nothing close to that. Both human and Twi'lek shared incredulous glances before looking back at the Iktotchi, who continued to hide her eyes behind her palms. "Your...husband?" Rayf asked unnecessarily, merely to cut through the tension rife within the air. "What makes you think that?"

Vaevi removed her hands, revealing eyes bloodshot with unshed tears and internal pain, though her gaze had become murderously cold. "The methods used by 'the Shepherd', how he preys upon children and the similarities between all his victims. They're all hallmarks of an insane mind, one born of an experience I am only too familiar with." She paused for several moments, struggling with the anguish that rose within her as she dredged up old memories. Neither Foyi nor Rayf said a word as they waited patiently for her to continue her tale, to provide clarity to a mystery regarding the identity and motivation of their enemy.

Vaevi sighed, her eyes no longer meeting theirs as she stared off into a past event only she could see. "Mind you, I didn't knowingly marry a sociopathic murderer. When I first met him, he was charming, hardworking, and had an unusual but refreshing sense of morality, considering he eked a tenuous living out as a gambler, bookie, and organizer for the podracers. He dealt with all manner of scum and villainy, from pretentious podracers like Sebulba or Durundo, to even the crimelords such as Sebolto and Gardulla. Yet, he prided himself in never becoming too involved, keeping himself beholden to a higher moral authority, keeping apart from their depravities and shady dealings. It created a lot of stress on him, but the profitability of the industries he worked in allowed him to maintain a good home and get all the supplies he needed. A life he was only too willing to share, and I must admit, I found him attractive, intriguing, and the life he lived exciting. We were married within a year of meeting each other, and it was not long after that we decided to start a family."

"What was...is his name?" Foyi asked when the Iktotchi paused for a lengthy period of time.

Vaevi waved a dismissive hand. "He calls himself 'the Shepherd' now, but when I met him, he was fine with his birth name, Arctan Xieesi." She gritted her teeth, as though uttering his name aloud inflicted even greater pain upon her.

"You had two children together," Rayf surmised, his tone concerned. "A boy and a girl, right?"

Vaevi nodded, and the agony rippling out from her presence was stifling. "You're smarter than you look, flyboy. They were the joys of our lives, and for a time, we were truly happy. Or so I thought," she added gruffly. "With the arrival of our children and the expansion of our family, I ceased working to raise our children, which put a greater burden on Arctan and the money he made, which wasn't always so reliable. We were fine with a fraction of the credits Arctan was earning for our family, but the stress of the jobs he took and trying to provide for a young family began to affect him in terrible ways. I tried time and again to convince him that we were fine, that we had all the money we needed, that I wasn't the Queen of Naboo and didn't require a fancy palace and all the credits in the Mid Rim, but he became only more worried and obsessed with bringing in more and more credits. The stress of his work and that which he placed on himself soon put him in a foul mood on his best days; he began to see myself and our kids as the source for all his frustrations and stressors. It wasn't until...after...that I discovered he was deeply in debt to multiple disreputable individuals and organizations, which was the reason he worked in the organizations and industries he did, all in an attempt to pay off gambling debts that only grew larger due to his obsession with betting on the podraces and the sabacc table, all in an attempt to make one large score that would pay off all his debts in one fell swoop.

"Needless to say, he hid this all from me, no matter how often I attempted to determine what was actually putting so much stress on him. He was always a stronger telepath than I ever was, so I could read almost nothing off his mind, even when I concentrated my damnedest to do so. Which I didn't do often, as it would only anger him further than he already was. As Arctan became more convinced that his wife and younglings were at fault for all his woes, he took to spending greater periods of time away from us at his jobs, or at the local pubs, where he drowned his stress in lomin ale and Novanian grog. Only when he was properly drunk would he come home, and take out his frustrations on his family. If we argued with him or did even the slightest thing to anger him, he would lash out with rage so great, it was like I found myself suddenly married to a complete stranger. At first, his abuses were verbal in nature, calling us names, cursing us, screaming at us to leave him alone until he slept off his inebriation and the resultant hangover. After, he would apologize, and tell me and our children how much he loved us, and that he had just had a bad day. Like fools, I believed he was still the man I had married, and I accepted his apologies. I should have taken it as a clear sign to leave him and take my children as far away from Malastare as possible."

The dimming light was suddenly illuminated by a flash of lightning, followed by a growling crack of thunder that momentarily split the sky. Foyi jumped at the sudden light and cacophony, having been so intent upon the bounty hunter's tale that she had lost track of her external environment. Vaevi paid it no heed other than a momentary glance upward. She returned her attention to Rayf and Foyi, her voice hard as phrik as she continued. "As you might guess, it wasn't long before Arctan's anger manifested into physical abuse as well. If one of our children talked too loudly while he was trying to sleep, or even asked him to spend some time with them, he would become livid, and sometimes, he would slap them, or even punch them. When I tried to intervene, he would turn his fists and feet against me. Which was fine, as long as he wasn't beating on our children."

"It's not fine," Rayf interjected. "There was no reason for him to beat you."

Vaevi gave him a wry smile that held no levity. "Not according to him. By the time he started beating us, he stopped apologizing, and just blamed us for his foul temper, for his drinking, for his gambling debts. Our home became a prison lorded over by his wrath and blame. What was worse, some part of him must have realized what a worthless pile of bantha poodoo he'd become, but instead of trying to amend that, he let his sense of morality become entangled in his abuse. He began to see every action he took, or we took, as moral ones, and when he didn't like something we did, he felt compelled to 'punish us for our sins'. Like he was God of the Universe or something. This only compounded the stress he already felt, which compelled him to drink more, which in turn caused him to dole out violent punishment upon my children and myself almost constantly. I and my children began to dread when he was home, and I suspected that Arctan had lost his grip on reality at that point, though I didn't really see it at the time. I'm ashamed to say that my own anxieties regarding my family's survival and money prevented me from removing my children from our hostile home life, but eventually, I woke up to the danger and made preparations to hop a freighter offworld and take my children as far from their worthless father as I could."

Vaevi let out a shaking breath, and her voice had taken on a noticeable quaver as she spoke. "But the night before the shuttle I had booked was to take off, and take us away from Malastare, my children took the stash of alcohol Arctan kept in the house and dumped it outside. They didn't tell me about it, and wish they had, as I could have stopped them, maybe even predicted what would happen next...When Arctan came home, more drunk than I had ever seen him, and smelling of ryll, he was already in a furious mood, and when he discovered what our children had done in an attempt to stop his tirades and anger...he killed them."

Foyi grimaced, expecting the words the despondent Iktotchi had uttered, but finding it painful still. Rayf's expression tightened as he peered at the bounty hunter. "I'm sorry, Vaevi."

Vaevi's voice was thick with emotion as she continued, but her hand waved to indicate she had not finished. "The loss of my children to...Arctan's anger was awful; it's a pain I feel to this day, every waking moment. But that—that wasn't even the worst of it. It was how he killed them...it was the most bonechilling thing I've ever seen, and it still haunts me." She looked up at them with an intense, searching stare. "It was the first time I saw the Force in use."

Both Foyi and Rayf's brows shot up, but it was the human who uttered the question on both of their minds. "He killed them using the Force?"

Foyi could feel the blood in her veins running cold. If "the Shepherd" was truly Vaevi's former husband and the individual in question was Force-sensitive, Tama may be in even more danger than she had at first assumed. Particularly if she was at the mercy of a Force-user who actually chose to make his home and base of operations on a world so rampant with the Dark Side. "The Shepherd is a Force-sensitive?"

Vaevi nodded. "I believe this creature was once my husband, and my husband could use the Force. Though I don't believe even he knew he was capable of it till that moment. But the negative aspect of the Force you call the Dark Side already had a hold on him by then, motivating his anger and cruelty, building within him until he became the kind of monster that would willingly kill his children." She turned her face away, swiping her palm against her eyes for a moment, removing welling tears that were born more of the boiling rage within her presence, rather than the open sore of grief at the center of her being. "I admit...I was too afraid, and felt powerless to do anything as I watched him raise his hands in anger. The air seemed to be pulled directly from my lungs and our whole house felt like it was shaking. I watched, soundlessly screaming, as my children crumpled before him, as he seemed to grow more aware, stronger as they withered before my very eyes. They wasted away in moments, and Arctan seemed to enjoy their suffering and slow deaths, seemed to gain new strength from their deaths. When they fell dead at his feet, there was a moment when Arctan had become an entirely different being altogether. I can't touch the Force myself, but I saw and felt the Dark Side that day, and I think Arctan finally understood what kind of monster he had become, and accepted it. I still remember him looking down at the bodies of the children we had had together with a cold expression, and then looked at me, and told me that 'they had been punished for their sins'.

"I left that very day. I couldn't stay in that house anymore, and with my children gone and my husband unrecognizable, there was nothing left for me on Malastare. I wanted justice for my lost children, but I was too afraid to go against Arctan, who had become something I feared, something I couldn't comprehend. In my pathetic fear, I believed that Arctan would hunt me to the ends of the galaxy, so I changed my name and tried to forget my previous life. I spent the Clone Wars moving back and forth through the Outer and Mid Rims, working any job that would allow me to keep hidden, under the scanners.

"It wasn't until the Galactic Empire that I began hearing rumors of this 'Shepherd' killer. At first, they were only rumors, legends that were intermixed with such figures as Lord Nyax and the Ghost Jedi of Mrlsst. But then, I began having...visions, sometimes vivid ones, suggesting that I would come into contact with this Shepherd, or sometimes visions of his victims and even their deaths. I began researching all the legends and news I could find regarding the Shepherd, while at the same time teaching myself how to become a warrior and gunslinger, in order to defend myself if need be. As I gathered more information about this killer, I had a feeling that I can't explain, that I somehow knew who this killer was, that I had some connection to him I didn't yet understand. I started looking for patterns amongst the victims I studied, and found them strangely and sickeningly familiar."

"How so?" Rayf asked.

But it was Foyi who provided the answer, recalling what Vaevi had related to them regarding the conditions and similarities amongst the victims. "You're children...when they died...your son was twelve, and your daughter was fourteen, right?"

Vaevi nodded sadly. "That's what triggered my suspicions that Arctan had something to do with these killings. In his own sick, twisted way, I figured he was trying to atone, or justify, or recreate the deaths of his own children. He's...reliving their murders, over and over again. If he had any sanity before he started calling himself 'the Shepherd', he must have lost it now. I can't begin to fathom his reasons or his actions."

"So you're not here for credits," Rayf surmised, rubbing the hairs on his chin. "You're here for vengeance."

"I'm here for answers," the bounty hunter snarled. "I want to see Arctan again, and I want him to explain why he killed our children. I want him to explain to me how he killed our children."

"I might have an answer for that," Rayf answered quickly. "From the way you described it, it sounds like he used some sort of Force Drain. It's an ability that allows a Force-user to leech the vitality from their victim to strengthen themselves. There are many different uses and versions of it, but the most powerful ones drain so much life energy from another, that the victim dies."

"That might explain the state the bodies of the other children you studied were in," Foyi suggested. "Maybe he makes himself stronger, or at least thinks he does, by using the Force to drain their life essences."

Another flash of lightning skittered through the sky overhead, chased by a crack of thunder that sent vibrations through the ragged, moss-covered stone beneath their feet and haunches. Foyi paid it no heed as she turned to Rayf, her face etched with barely-controlled fear. "We need to find that path again. Now. We can't leave Tama, or any other kids he may have, in the clutches of a Darksider."

"How do you propose we do that?" the bounty hunter asked skeptically. "None of us have any idea where we are. Telemetry scans of the surface aren't going to help us if we can't even pinpoint our position on the charts we have, which are less than reliable, and that's being generous."

Rayf glanced at the Twi'lek. "You could try reaching out in the Force again. You and Tama are close sisters; your connection to each other is strong. If you focus hard enough, you might be able to reach her."

Foyi shook her head. "I already tried that, remember? I could barely sense her presence, and only in close proximity to that trail." She waved a hand above her head, indicating the jungle around them, the world as a whole. "It's this place. It's so strong in the Dark Side, it's difficult to sense anything past it."

Rayf lifted himself from the slimy surface of the crag enough to scoot himself closer to her, so that the human and Twi'lek were seated facing each other, their crossed feet within mere centimeters of each other. He reached out and took her hands in his own and held her gaze. "Then let me help you. Let us share our power, our focus, our connection to the Force. With our combined strength and your connection to Tama, maybe together we can find her together."

Foyi looked down at her hands in his, feeling the callouses and roughened contours formed from years of wielding a wan-shen for both offense and defense. Her initial reaction was to pull away in surprise, to relieve the sense of discomfort that came with having him so close physically to her. But she could not deny that she found his offer heartwarming, as it was an option she had not considered, and would not have asked him to assist her in such a way. She tightened her grip on his hands, using the tactile contact, the heartbeat she could feel in the veins of his fingers and palms, as a focus as she delved deep into the depths of the Force. She let go of her personal emotions and sensations, filtered out the sounds of the grumbling sky, the wind through the fungal stalks, the feeling of the damp stone beneath her posterior. She imagined the waters of the Force being poured through the top of her head, filling the empty vessel of her body that she had prepared for it. As she called upon the powerful liquid, she began to feel the serene and gentle presence of Rayf before her. He was no longer a physical construct sitting directly in front of her, but an amorphous matrix of life essence that seeped into her own, his mind mixing with her consciousness, the separate waters of their existences intermingling to form a single entity in the Force. Their thoughts began to mold together, stray ideas from Foyi sliding into gaps in the thinking processes of Rayf, and vice versa. Foyi saw scraps of memories that were not hers, felt suppressed and smoothed emotions from Rayf, but she pushed past this miasma that threatened to swallow her concentration, instead focusing upon the human's strength in the Force and drawing upon it. She reached down into the warm, gentle waves of Rayf's consciousness, letting his connection to the Force reach out into her own, bolstering both simultaneously. Foyi felt momentary surprise to find how deeply attuned to the Force he truly was, how integral the limitless seas of energy were to his very existence, his Matukai training urging him to keep every aspect of his being balanced with the Unifying Force. Despite the fact that he rarely called upon the Force for direct and supernatural external effects upon his environment, and his apparent deficiency in telekinetic aspects, he had a mature and fathomless understanding of it. For him, the Force was not a resource he dipped into at will, but a constant companion, a lifeline that kept him sane and collected, that reinforced his attempts to remain himself, to keep hold of his identity within a galaxy that forced him to pretend to be something he was not. She felt loneliness, feelings of dejection and abandonment, longing for days and times past, buried beneath his mask of mischievousness and nonchalance. But most of all, she felt his commitment to the rescue of Tama, to the reunion of the separated sisters. His commitment to the Twi'lek with which he shared his thoughts, feelings, and sensitivity to the Force.

Foyi was tempted to linger on those feelings, to explore them, to offer her own reciprocal emotions, but there was a slight insistence from the human, a quiet reminder of why they had initiated the meld in the first place. Foyi sharpened her focus again, extricating herself from Rayf's mind enough so that she no longer grasped his stray thoughts, but rather drew upon his own connection to the Force; it was like dipping into a secondary ocean, an expansion of the depths she was familiar with when calling upon the Force. She gathered the warm and scintillating waters about her, and used them to cast her consciousness out from herself, to reach far beyond her physical form and pierce through the murky, pounding waves of the Dark Side all around her. The tainted lights of life essences arose like stars all around her, but she swam past them, her mind touching them each in turn in a brief and blazing fast contact as she searched them in turn for signs of familiarity. But she found nothing that felt remotely like her sister's presence, and she realized quickly that if she continued in such a way, she would exhaust herself remaining so deeply submerged in the Force.

She felt a suggestion from Rayf, more of a sensation than any direct communication. She gave the telepathic equivalent of her assent, and together, they changed their extrasensory perceptions from a wide and piecemeal search, to a call that echoed through the Force, like a shout radiating out for untold distances from both her and Rayf. As one, they both focused on sending the call out across the world, letting their mental signatures radiate through the Living Force on Felucia, slipping through the gaps of infrequent and virulent Dark Side taint. Foyi wished to strive further, to follow that call with waves of specific intent, but the call itself was exhausting enough to produce. She could only wait and hope that Tama would sense her insistence within the Force and respond.

Then, as sudden as the lightning that flashed above them, ignored by the pair of melded Force-users, an eddy of thought bisected the ripples Twi'lek and human spread from their combined minds. With that ripple came specific, sentient thought that coalesced into comprehensible words in a telepathic voice that Foyi knew as well as her own. Foyim'buma?

Foyi no longer restrained her emotions, latching onto the shred of consciousness that represented her sister as though holding to a safety cable attaching her to the exterior of a starship in deep space. Joy, relief, and longing surged through her all at once, undoubtedly enough to overwhelm Tama's telepathic presence, but she could no longer restrain herself, she was so enthusiastic to be in contact with her sister again, even if it was from great distance. She called out to her sister again, trying to communicate images and sensations of where she was on the planet, though this was difficult, considering she had no relative landmarks that both sisters could reference to in order to gauge physical distances from each other.

Tamam'buma! I knew you lived! Tama! I'm here!

Even as Foyi shouted these words with all her telepathic might, she could already feel the tendril of sentience that was her long-lost sister withdrawing, sinking beneath the muddy waters of the Dark Side. But even as it was disappearing and Foyi swam deeper to catch hold of it, her mind was suddenly filled with smells of cooking meat, the stench of spores and alien body odors, the sounds of rising wind and a crackling fire. Her mind's eyes were greeted to a kaleidoscope of random images of fungal stalks, of a dark and foreboding jungle stretching out through the haze and dim sunlight. These images of the jungle displayed some measure of sight of the trunks and stalks, but mostly the caps of gargantuan mushrooms and the canopies of the forests, suggesting they had been conveyed from a vantage point above the majority of the jungle around Tama. The last of the images confirmed this assumption on Foyi's part, granting her a view of a relatively level ridge upon which sat several unfamiliar individuals Foyi only had a brief and hazy regard of, though all were of juvenile ages. The ridge upon which Tama apparently sat was merely one tiered height of a large hill, much of its sheer slopes covered in thick fungal foliage as it soared above the observer's head into the windswept fog of spores above.

Foyi, feeling the contact slipping away and becoming lost within the tainted Force and choppy sea of life essences, drew as much as she could from her own sensitivity to the Force, and that offered her by Rayf, all in order to maintain the feeling of Tama's presence. But her efforts were foiled when the external environment intruded upon her focus, as the explosive report of a blaster bolt assaulted her ears. Rayf withdrew from the meld immediately in alarm, forcing Foyi to surface from within herself. Her eyes snapped open, and the dimming light, the waving fungi, and the whistles of the wind growing in intensity became a briefly disorienting onslaught of sensation. Cursing whatever had broken her contact with Tama both inwardly and aloud, she looked up to see that Rayf had sprung to his feet, his wan-shen seemingly slapping itself together in his blurred hands as he swiveled his head about, looking for threats. Her gaze was drawn to Vaevi, who crouched at the edge of the precipice, her E-11s Sniper Rifle braced against her shoulder as she peered through her targeting scope. Without looking at either one of them, she discharged a shot over the edge at something unseen in the jungle below.

Foyi rose to her feet, and with a flick of her wrist, her discblade emerged from its sheathe and found her waiting fingers. She trotted to the edge beside the bounty hunter at the same time Rayf did, and as one, the pair of them crouched to either side of Vaevi as she fired another shot. The trio leapt back as a fusillade of answering blaster bolts chewed into the rock of the lip, sending up shards of red-hot stone and fragments of slippery mushrooms. "Stang!" Vaevi cursed, looking down at her sniper rifle to check the charge, then slapping a new power pack into it to recharge it.

"What's going on?" Rayf asked calmly, but Foyi could see how taut every muscle in his body was, ready to propel him into action at a moment's notice.

"Stars and galaxies!" Vaevi exclaimed. "I've been yelling at you two to wake up for five minutes already! We've got unpleasant company advancing on the cliff!"

"More Felucians?" Rayf queried, craning his neck to peer over the edge.

"With blasters?! Try again!"

Foyi brought a hand to her face and let loose a string of vitriol that had even Rayf grimacing. "It's the Imps and their Jedi-hunter, isn't?!"

Another slew of blasterfire struck the edge of the precipice just as Vaevi had crept forward to line up another shot, forcing the Iktotchi back. "What makes you think that?" she snarled bitterly.

Rayf suddenly spun around to face the opposite end of the precipice, where the cliff sloped back down into the tangled jungle below, brandishing his wan-shen at the same time Foyi's danger sense shrieked at her to turn around. She spun on her heels in time to see a hulking figure charging through the trunks of the mushrooms gracing the top of the ridge, a massive biped encased in thickened, black armor that held a fearsome similarity to the armor worn by stormtroopers. But the skull-like mask contained a visor mimicking empty sockets that were ghoulishly exaggerated in size, the pauldrons of the armor enormous and stacked upon pieces of plating that must have weighed a prohibitive number of kilograms. The trooper clutched a ferocious heavy repeating blaster rifle in its overlarge hands, swinging the barrels of the weapon up as it approached, the weapon whining as it spooled up to unleash a hail of laserfire.

On instinct, Foyi reached out with her telekinesis and gripped one of the thick boles of mushrooms the monstrosity was passing, pulling the gnarled fungus to the side so that it slapped heavily against the trooper. The trooper staggered to the side, its balance momentarily ruined, while its fouled aim sent a fusillade of bolts slicing through the air, passing within centimeters of both Foyi and Vaevi. The bounty hunter took advantage of its loss of equilibrium and discharged a trio of bolts into the trooper's chest and torso, the sniper blasts cutting deep gouges in the armor and staggering the trooper further. But the trooper made a strange, echoing, digitized noise through its vocoder and struggled to get back to its feet, hardly affected by either Foyi or Vaevi's attacks.

It was Rayf who found an effective weapon against the hulking trooper, for he had stabbed his wan-shen bladefirst into the thick carpet of moss, where he could retrieve it quickly, so that he could pull the VES-700 Pulse Rifle from his back. The trooper had just risen back to its knees, swinging its heavy repeating blaster toward them, when Rayf triggered the weapon in his hands, and a bright flash of energy emerged from the end of the weapon in a wave that struck the trooper and sliced through its armor like a cutting torch. The trooper disappeared in a shroud of billowing smoke as most of its torso armor melted into slag, even as the Pulse Rifle's ammunition veritably cut the trooper in half. The trooper gave a keening, grinding screech that trailed off into static as it fell in pieces, the melted, jagged slashes in its armor exuding showers of sparks and dark smoke. Foyi belatedly realized the trooper was some sort of combat droid, albeit a frightening one.

The smoldering remains of the droid surrendered to gravity and began to roll back down the slope of the cliff from which it had ascended. But there were more figures clambering up behind it, stepping over the tumbling pieces as they ascended, moving in a quick and hostile group made of more droids of similar manufacture. One of those droids was taller but not quite as bulky as the first they had encountered, a menacing, compact missile launcher affixed to its shoulder, and a scintillating energy shield upon its arm. As the droids approached, they were further accompanied by more figures, scrambling up the slope in darting, stalking movements that grimly reminded Foyi of voorcats, the dull sheen of their armor flickering with the infrequent lightning overhead. They wore masks that were similarly skull-like in appearance, but with a barely humanoid design, their breath coming in short, ragged gasps through their respirators.

Foyi, Rayf, and Vaevi backed up swiftly from the approaching group of foreboding Imperial units, all of whom were aiming their wicked weapons, though none had yet opened fire, regarding the trio with more caution than the previous war droid had. The three companions backed away, until only the edge of the cliff separated them from the open air beyond. They would be forced to fight, unless they found some way to survive a drop of well over a dozen meters into the forests below. Vaevi kept her sniper rifle swinging back and forth, though she was hesitant to fire, for her previous shots had been hardly effective against the first droid to assault them. Foyi tucked her discblade into her belt and pulled her disruptor rifle, while Rayf continued to keep his Pulse Rifle trained on the group. Neither side was willing to begin firing at the moment, leaving them all at an impasse on the peak of the crag, the tense silence between the combatants broken only by the sounds of the ululating thunder above.

Foyi, her mind still focused on the fact that she had just been in contact with her sister that she seemed to have been separated from for so egregiously long, let frustration suffuse her form, even as she called upon the Force once again to aid her in battle. She raised her voice over the sound of rising speed and cacophony of the wind. "What do you want?!"

The droids, having crested the top of the crag and arranging themselves on the relatively level surface, said nothing, merely locking their knees and aiming their heavy weapons at their three enemies backed against the ledge. The slinking troopers with the grotesque masks and durasteel talons attached to their fingers paced back and forth, never drawing within a few meters of the human, Twi'lek, and Iktotchi arrayed against them as though there were an invisible wall bisecting the ledge. They rubbed the talons upon their gloved hands together, making screeching, metallic sounds that caused Foyi's lekku to twitch involuntarily with apprehension. They remained silent.

Foyi was about to call out to them again, when a voice arose from somewhere behind the droids and disquieting troopers, an effeminate tone filled with deadly confidence and assured command. "To speak with you. Preferably the two of you who can feel the true power in this galaxy, even if you don't yet fully call upon it."

The troops, both droids and humanoids, parted to provide passage for a woman who was obviously their leader, based on the aura of command she suffused by her mere appearance. She was a Devaronian, what little skin she exposed covered in thick fur of silver and white, a pair of faded circles gracing her forehead where horns would grow in male individuals of her species. Her features were gaunt, cruel and hawkish in appearance, her mouth filled with sharp teeth that gave her depreciating smile a leering snarl. She armored herself with plates of ultrachrome, over which fluttered thick, maroon robes of zeyd-cloth. Dangling from around her neck was some form of amulet fashioned from a roughly circular shape that evoked an organic scale made of an unrecognizable, pearlescent material reflecting the scattered lights of the lightning flashing through the atmosphere. She appeared to have no weapons upon her person, her gloved hands swinging languidly at her side.

But it was not the woman's appearance that was so worrisome, nor the way her dark eyes seemed to pierce her quarry to their souls, nor even the hungry gleam to her expression, as though she were sizing them all up for her next meal. Her very existence seemed unnatural, for try as Foyi might, she could not sense the woman before her in the Force. It was not a trick of the Dark Side, a blanket of shadows and obscurity that made it nearly impossible to register her presence within the radius of her expanded consciousness. It was as though the woman had been cut off from the Force completely, or even been born devoid of it entirely. Foyi knew this to be impossible, for she had witnessed the woman standing upon the Imperial heavy assault vehicle, had seen lightning born of the dark energies of the Force powerful enough to subdue the immense and terrible sarlacc. She had to be a Force-user, and a powerful one at that, and so her presence in the Force would have had to be noteworthy, a dark ridge rising above the oceans, the waves of the Force crashing all about her, her mere existence forcing even more waves and ripples. The Devaronian woman must have sensed her bewilderment, for she gave Foyi an impish smile that would have been playful on any other face, though it was twisted into a sneer on hers.

She felt a sudden, icy current strike her awareness from Rayf's direction, and she snuck a glance to her companion to see an expression of utter shock upon his face, shock outlined by recognition as he looked upon the Inquisitor. Vaevi had eyes only for the Devaronian woman, her targeting laser coming to rest on the plate of armor just above where her heart should be. "You want to talk? Lose the stormies and keep your distance, and maybe we can all sit down for a civilized conversation."

The Inquisitor gave the Iktotchi a glare that could melt duranium. "I think not, bounty hunter. My mandate does not involve one so insensitive as you, though you must still answer for your part in crimes against the Empire. For that, my troops will stay; I've neither the time nor the patience to deal with you personally." Her gaze shifted again, resting upon Rayf, and for a moment, there was a flicker of recognition in that gaze as well, prompting a self-assured smile to her thin lips. Her eyes then slid to rest on Foyi, and the same shivering sensation creeping up the length of her lekku that Foyi had felt when in the presence of Virec Xan and his Darksider assasins made the appendages of her head curl and twitch. "But from the two of you, I require answers, and offer opportunities in return. So, if you would utilize some intelligence and put your weapons down, then we might have a civilized conversation."

Foyi tightened her grip on her disruptor rifle and answered for all of them. "We don't have time for your games. Go to hell."

The Inquisitor's expression tightened almost imperceptibly. Her sneer leveled into a grim line, while her right wrist flicked just beneath the folds of her robe's sleeve. From that sleeve, as if materializing from midair, emerged a small cylinder of white and silver ribs of metal, with a grip and activation stub for some mechanism. Her finger flexed over that stub, and the tip of the cylinder erupted with a beam of energy a meter in length with a snap-hiss and an incessant drone Foyi could feel in her teeth. The blade emerging from the hilt was a dazzling, pure light of white, though it was surrounded by a lurid glow of crimson that bathed the dim clifftop in a sanguine hue, painting her maroon robes with the color of blood and bringing a demonic gleam to her eyes. Foyi felt her body freeze in momentary shock as she realized she was looking at a lightsaber, a weapon she believed she would never see with her own eyes, considering the Jedi had been all but destroyed before she could even articulate intelligent speech. The Inquisitor passed the blade through a lazy circle in front of her, then brought it up into a guard position even as she dropped into a ready, crouching stance. From behind the blade came her voice, which had lost all adoption of civility.

"I'm afraid...I must insist."