Star Wars: Lost Souls

by BAPostma

Zeison Sha Warrior Foyi Imbuma has spent the majority of her life hiding her Force abilities on Yanibar, while training her sister, Tama, in secret. But when Tama is kidnapped by a sadistic serial killer, Foyi must venture across the galaxy, from the Smugglers' Moon to shadowy Point Nadir to the hostile jungles of Felucia, to rescue her sister. Cover Image courtesy of Wookieepedia.

33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

Inquisitor Vinaq rolled her shoulders to stretch the taut muscles refusing to loosen as she walked up the grimy stairs to the level, rusted top of the landing platform. The sultry Felucian wind stirred what few hairs had come loose of the severe knot she had pulled back to the base of her neck, while the folds of her new and neatly-pressed maroon robes flapped about her thin, armored body, as though the heavy zeyd-cloth were attempting to take flight, whether she remained attached to them or not. She carried no weapons on her person; with the Force, she had all the weaponry she could ever need, though she certainly missed the familiar weight of her lightsaber riding her hip. It was a situation that would be remedied as soon as she returned to Imperial Center and requisitioned the necessary materials to create a new lightsaber, but it discomfited her nonetheless.

As Vinaq strode up the clanging stairs, streaks of pain shivered through her limbs and her body, pain that she either ignored or simply drew upon to enhance her own Force potential. The duel atop the precipice with the unexpected specter of her past had not gone in her favor, though she counted her continued survival as a blessing, one she did not deserve. She had been sloppy, overconfident; she had not deigned to treat her enemies as true threats, and had nearly suffered the ultimate price for that oversight. And as a result, she had little to show for results of her mission other than the continuing existence of herself, an existence that may be cut short abruptly depending on how the impending meeting she walked toward would fare.

She reached one of the landings of those stairs and paused a moment as a sudden spike of pain arced along her spine, igniting every healing bruise and laceration within her torso. Her injuries had been many but ultimately minor, suffered more from her brief scuffle with the former human Jedi and his Force-sensitive Twi'lek companion than the fall from the clifftop that occurred afterward. The Force had made certain her fall into the jungle had not been disastrous, though she had still hit the canopies with more speed than she had intended, and been forced to limp through kilometers of hostile foliage and wildlife, the blood leaking from her wounds attracting predators to doggedly haunt her steps. Occasionally, she had had to hold her ground and deter those predators bold enough to attempt to take her down, though after electrocuting or utterly destroying the bravest of these creatures with her violent command of the Dark Side, she had been left alone for the remaining duration of her trek. The ruins of Kway Teow had arisen in her vision almost a day later, and she had stumbled back into the perimeters of the Imperial garrison kept there as night of that following day fell. The Lieutenant and the remainder of his stormtroopers had been almost relieved to see her continuing to draw breath. Vinaq assumed the officer was more concerned with what repercussions might befall him for losing a superior in the jungle than whether she lived or not. She had allowed her wounds to be treated with the company's most basic medical supplies, but had refused any bacta remedies. She wanted to feel the continuing pain of her injuries as her body slowly knit itself back together, the silver streaks of agony that coursed through her frame whenever she moved too quickly, or ignored the limitations her injured form placed upon her. To her, the discomfort and anguish of her persistent wounds was only another source of power, the pain granting her a focus and a red wash of simmering anger that steeped her in the Dark Side. Having survived the trials of this corrupted world, she had gained a new understanding of it, a deeper connection to its lurking darkness. She felt stronger than she had upon landing on this planet, which only increased her anger whenever she considered the face of the man she had known as Thame Mirac and his Force-sensitive friend. Vinaq had come here looking for Force-sensitives to bolster the ranks of darksiders within the New Order, to create new Inquisitors and Adepts to increase the influence of the Emperor. Vinaq had arrived here expecting to find such potential allies and tools of the Empire amongst the mysterious and powerful Jungle Felucians, and though there were still two prisoners in the base kept specifically for that purpose, she had also discovered unexpected wielders of the Force, with proper, regimented training and dangerous skill. To have been bested by them was not a part of her report she relished giving; she could only hope that the prisoners she had obtained for the Inquisitorius' use would suffice.

Vinaq crested the top of the stairs, striding onto the slippery surface of the landing pad. The Lieutenant and a cadre of stormtroopers were already arrayed and waiting in the morning sun peeking through the haze in the atmosphere and the few dark rainclouds that lumbered along the horizon. The wind up here had been stirred into a sweltering gale by the Lambda-class T-4a Shuttle lowering itself upon the platform, beside the nearly-identical Rimfire Vinaq had been transported in. Vinaq walked across the platform to stand beside and just to the front of the lieutenant as the shuttle's landing pads touched the grimy surface, and the ship settled, steam hissing as its engines powered down. She coaxed her expression into one neutral, counting upon the protective field projected by her Taozin amulet to mask her emotional turmoil in the Force.

The shuttle's boarding ramp lowered with a whine of servomotors, and the metal of the ramp rang with a single set of boots, the sound elicited by that stride profoundly imperious. Those shining, black boots belonged to a man similarly clothed in attire as black as the void of space, though accoutrements of his garments were a sanguine red only a shade lighter than the color of the robes Vinaq herself wore. He wore a tunic of glossy black cloth over a pair of dark trousers, while scarlet pauldrons secured to his shoulders a cloak of similar shade, save for the scarlet sigils embroidered along the hem of the cape, symbols Vinaq suspected were Sith in origin. To most of the uninitiated amongst the Empire's heirarchy, the man striding toward her would be mistaken for a human, with a squared jaw, severe countenance that reminded her uncomfortably like a leering hawkbat, and a strong forehead rising to a bald pate, save for the fringe of hair about the nape of his neck. At each corner of his mouth draped jagged tattoos stitched down to his chin, and where his eyes should have been was a strip of vacuous black cloth, perpetrating the facade that he had once possessed eyes that could no longer see. The truth was far stranger, and more menacing, for this man belonged to the Miraluka, a rare species of near-humans born without eye sockets, but with a unique connection to the Force that allowed them to compensate. The man reached the bottom of the ramp and paused, his head swiveling back and forth, as though he were busying himself with inspecting the troops arrayed before him. Vinaq kept her expression neutral; she dared not show any overt emotion before this man, for despite his lack of eyes, he could perceive far more than those who possessed sight. Hiding within the sphere of void that her Taozin amulet produced, she allowed herself to sample the man's Force presence, and came away feeling violated, as she always did. She did not understand his connection to the Force, for it was unlike anyone's she had encountered before. He was wreathed in a miasma of black whorls, interspersed with tendrils of scarlet, gold, and orange that grasped for her extrasensory perceptions. The tumultuous black cloud of ink that was his existence followed those tendrils, boiling out like a silent wave of death, seeking to smother her own connection to the Force, to snuff out the light of her existence by his mere presence alone. It sent shivers of both revulsion and hunger through her as his invisible regard fell upon her; revulsion for the way the colors of his presence attempted to violate the sanctity of her own, and hunger for the levels of power in the Dark Side he had achieved. Power she yet strove for, assuming she survived this meeting.

The man stepped closer, and metal glinted in the sun along his hip, inexorably drawing Vinaq's eyes to the only visible weapon he carried upon his person, an ostentatious and forbidding ceremonial piece he was still quite capable of wielding with lethal skill. He carried a Jengardin Double-Bladed Vibroblade upon his hip, an accoutrement to his dark visage meant as a threat display to his subordinates. Vinaq knew him to possess a lightsaber as well, with a synthetic crystal as scarlet as her own, though he rarely carried it, and when he did, he tended to keep it hidden upon his person. Despite attitudes and proclivities amongst other members of the Inquisitorius, High Inquisitor Jerec preferred to disguise his Force abilities, which only served to make his apparently supernatural ability to see more mysterious for those unaware of his sensitivity to the Force.

Jerec stopped in front of Vinaq, and she dipped her head in a curt and proper bow. "High Inquisitor. Welcome to Felucia."

"You have results that would interest me," he all but snarled in response. In all the time Vinaq had known him, she had never heard Jerec give a greeting; he was always more concerned with the point at hand, and getting to it as quickly as possible. And the way he had answered her greeting had not been phrased as a question, but rather a demand, an unspoken order to impress him or suffer the consequences.

"I have found two likely candidates for conditioning and training in the Emperor's service," she replied, keeping her voice even and deferential. "They are Force-sensitive indigenous. Powerful, but raw and untrained. I have taken the liberty of beginning their training with an...object lesson to make them more submissive. They shall be easy to mold into whatever capacity the Empire may require of them."

The hint of a smirk graced Jerec's lips. "Are they 'fresher-trained?"

Vinaq allowed a sardonic smile of her own. "Honestly, m'lord, I haven't checked, and they are not active conversationalists."

Jerec strode past her, walking directly through the center of the line of stormtroopers arrayed before him, forcing them to shift to the sides to provide him room. Vinaq pivoted on her heel and followed directly in his wake as he began to pound down the stairs which descended into the Imperial base. She heard the lieutenant give sharp orders, and he and his troops followed the pair of Inquisitors at a respectful distance. "Perhaps you are simply not an engaging conversationalist, Inquisitor," came Jerec's response as his purposeful and swift gait carried him further down the staris.

"You know that to be false, High Inquisitor," Vinaq replied coyly. In truth, Vinaq and Jerec had known each other from a time before the Inquisitorius and the Empire, when she had merely been an Apprentice, and he a Master, of the Order they had both turned their backs upon. Since then, they had been associated with each other on multiple occasions, occasionally working together on various missions and hunts on the business of the Inquisitorius, and had thus formed a respect for each others abilities and methods, a relationship both strove to use for their own benefits. Vinaq had heard rumors from multiple sources that Jerec preferred to cultivate Force-sensitives he was personally involved in the training of into his own lackeys, drawing upon their strength while ensuring their loyalty to himself over that of the Emperor and the New Order. Some of those rumors suggested that Jerec had designs on ruling the Empire himself, a possibility Vinaq would not put past him, for he possessed insatiable ambition and a hunger for power, influence, and superiority matched only by his thirst for knowledge. It was one of the reasons that Jerec had chosen to work on the relationship they had built, and was likely the reason he had unexpectedly jumped into the system to assess her progress on the mission granted her by the Inquisitorius. Vinaq knew she was being evaluated, not only for her aforementioned progress, but also for her suitability as a candidate for the troupe of darksiders with whom he was surrounding himself, and it was a potential outcome she had considered every time she had spoken with Jerec. The potential to ally herself with such a powerful practitioner of the Force, well-versed in the arts of both the Jedi and the ancient Sith and knowledgeable in almost everything pertaining to the energy field that bound the galaxy together, was an opportunity she could not ignore. Though she outwardly expressed unwavering loyalty to the Empire and its ruler's vision for the security of the galaxy's future, Vinaq had found the forbidden powers and knowledge of the Dark Side tantalizing, and constantly searched for new capabilities, as well as the improvement of the fearsome powers she already possessed. Jerec was a means to an end for her, as much as she could be a tool to the High Inquisitor's own ambitions, though neither had committed to the other in any overt capacity.

Vinaq quickened her pace half a step as they descended the stairs, bringing her to Jerec's left side and keeping her stride abreast of his. "Your arrival is as unexpected as it is fortuitous, High Inquisitor. You're a long way from Sulon."

Jerec's expression did not change as he stared straight ahead without any eyes, though he waved a gloved hand dismissively. "I have other matters to look after beyond the scope of my recent governorship. Including those presumably under the care of your capabilities, which have been found lacking, based on the wounds that still pain you."

Vinaq shifted uncomfortably as the reminder of her injuries sent shivers of pain along her torso. "I admit that we...I have encountered unexpected difficulties since arriving on this world. I came into contact with Force-users I had not anticipated, and circumstances arose that forced me to withdraw."

"These Force-users," Jerec hissed dangerously. "You failed to detain them."

"I did," Vinaq was loathe to admit. "Though I was successful in identifying at least one of the individuals, a human man I knew as a child, a failed Initiate of the Jedi. He possessed a subtle but powerful command of the Force, and unparalleled skill with an exotic melee weapon I have only seen in recordings and archives. I believe he was of the Matukai. With him was a Twi'lek girl, who showed great proficiency with telekinesis, and used a circular blade as both a projectile and close-quarters weapon. I don't know where she got her training or skills, but she may have been stronger in the Force than even the man was, and was well-versed in its use."

Jerec was quiet for a moment, the hue of his presence changing to a lighter tone as he contemplated her words. "Matukai," he hissed. "And Zeison Sha." As they entered the base on their way to visit the Felucian prisoners, he turned to her, piercing her soul with the eyes that should have been present behind the grotesque strip of cloth. "I deem your failure an acceptable one, Inquisitor, assuming you can provide information to support your claims. Tell me more about these...Force-users. I want to learn everything you know about them."

Vinaq's brow rose almost imperceptibly. "They could be of great use to the Empire if they were to be located and turned."

"They could be of great use," Jerec agreed, notably leaving out any mention of the government they both served in name only. A smile creased his thin, cold lips, and Vinaq could not help but share it.

---

Foyi perched on the edge of her seat in the Flamusfracta's lounge, only just realizing after a few moments that she was staring quite intently at the Twi'lek who sat across the table from her. The small room in Rayf's ship had become considerably more crowded than it normally did, leaving little space for anyone gathered to move about, especially for the captain of the vessel, who was frantically running back and forth from the food synthesizer to the table, serving dishes of shipboard rations to the new occupants and their ravenous appetites. It was almost too much to keep abreast of, and for many others, it could have been perceived as a stressful task. But Foyi could practically feel the physical presence of Rayf's grin, his happiness and satisfaction palpable ripples through the Force. She snuck a glance at him as he plopped a platter of mugs wafting steam from the hot caf contained within, and she accepted a mug he personally offered her with a grin of her own.

Foyi returned her attention to those gathered at the table, the group of children that had managed to survive, through force of will and the Force's will together. There was a Togruta girl named Ashla, who had the ghost of a smile on her face as she carefully placed warm food in her mouth, though her hunched shoulders and quivering headtresses suggested she was still apprehensive. Beside her sat Farr, the Rodian boy who ate with wild abandon, and had expressed his appreciation multiple times around a mouth filled with food. The Zabrak girl was named Nuri, and her spirits seemed to have improved greatly from the grim expression she had first greeted Foyi with, offering an occasional joke in between bites of her meal. She sat close to Tama, who had said little during the meal, but for the first time since they had left the cursed planet of Felucia behind, the light of her essence had begun to shine as bright as a distant star. She radiated waves of peace, of serenity born of being amongst people she felt comfortable and safe with. Her attention was on her Zabrak friend; the two girls had been nearly inseparable since being helped back to the ship. Foyi was not surprised, as the girls had survived so much together, mostly by relying on each others strengths, though she was secretly dismayed that Nuri appeared to have come from the same cut of cloth as spacers such as Rayf and Pash, and cursing far too often and colorfully for Foyi's tastes. But Foyi barely knew her, or any of the other children who had been subjected to the Shepherd's insanity, so she was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. They were not deserving of her suspicion. Not after all they had been through.

After finding Tama and the other survivors in the jungle and the death of the Shepherd at Vaevi's hands, Foyi, Rayf, and a nearly insensate Vaevi had endeavored to return to the Flamusfracta in an arduous and lengthy trek through the jungle. The bounty hunter's tracking skills, their incomplete orbital survey maps, and pure luck allowed them to find the old Separatist platform upon which they had left the Firespray-31. Once there, they had spent many hours treating the large variety of wounds they had all suffered; Farr had been in the worst shape due to his blaster burns, but a generous amount of bacta patches and medpacs had put him well on the road to a full recovery. Rayf offered the opinion that they should all have the benefit of full immersion in bacta, though his ship was not equipped with such a facility, and considering their recent entanglements with Imperial forces, they were wary of stopping at a spaceport with such capabilities, as the Empire's nearly complete control over bacta production and distribution throughout the galaxy necessitated some form of Imperial oversight at such places. Foyi had also offered her own strength and capabilities in the Force to heal some minor injuries. She was well-practiced in Force trances and the healing, meditative states they provided, but knitting the injured tissues of others had proved to be a relatively difficult challenge for her. It was a challenge she had willingly arisen to, with some small measure of success. As such, the worst of the physical wounds the group had suffered had been treated properly, and everyone was on their way to complete and speedy recoveries.

The emotional, spiritual, and psychological injuries, however, would take far longer to heal. Even as Foyi stared at her sister in appreciation of her continued survival, she could not disguise the grimace that creased her face. Tama hid it well, but she could feel the roiling cauldron of darkness and raw emotion that trembled at her sister's core; every once in awhile, her attentiveness would slip, and ripples of that tempest would permeate her being. There was a similar storm at the center of each of the children, born of the the horrors they had been subjected to in the Shepherd's violent and perverse care, experiences they had spoken as little as possible about. Foyi and Rayf had not pried at all, focusing instead on treating their injuries and slowly reintroducing their malnourished bodies back to food and drink. Foyi could feel the pain of welling emotion in her breast whenever she looked at the Twi'lek across the table from her. Tama was a fragile, hollow shell of her former self. She had been a thin, wiry girl on Yanibar, prompted by their meager meals and the rapid changes her body had undertaken due to her growing, maturing physicality. She had been of a healthy weight and physique when she had been kidnapped, and now she appeared little more than a skeleton barely able to hold herself upright, much less bend her stiff and protruding joints, her papery skin held taut over those same bones. Her eyes had sank beneath her brow, leaving hollow sockets and dark smudges around the orbs. Her lekku hung like atrophied appendages down her protruding spine, barely twitching at all in the subconscious somatic language unique to the Twi'lek species. She brought her own mug of caf to her lips, and Foyi experienced a sudden, irrational fear that the jutting bones of her unnaturally thin wrists would give way under the weight of the filled cup. Tama glanced up from her meal to meet her sister's gaze and offered a tired smile, which appeared as the grin of a rictal skull on her emaciated features. "Hi."

"Hey yourself," Foyi echoed across the table, while Rayf finally found a moment to sit on the crash couch beside her with a cup of caf in his hand.

Nuri swallowed an enormous hunk of sweesonberry roll and turned to the human and Twi'lek sitting together, her countenance elated. "If we haven't thanked you enough, let me thank you again. For coming for us."

Ashla echoed her sentiment with a barely audible murmur, and Tama simply continued to smile warmly, while Farr messily consumed his meal. Rayf leaned forward after a hearty gulp of caf. "Truth be told, we were really coming for Tama, until we found out that creep had more than just her trapped on this planet. We were only too happy to help, and getting the chance to do so is thanks enough."

"When we leaving this sleemo planet?" Farr managed around the majority of his meal.

Foyi gave the hatch on the far end of the room a significant look. "We're laying low for only a short while...we ran into some Imperial patrols while we were trying to find you, and we don't want to go blasting off and alerting their sensors so soon after that. And we need to get Vaevi back to her own ship when...when she's ready."

Tama looked over her shoulder as well, with a shadow passing over her features that Foyi could not begin to decipher. The children had already been introduced to the trio that had come to their rescue, and some minor details of the groups' respective journeys had thus been shared. Tama had been especially curious to understand why two strangers from entirely different circumstances had banded together with her distrusting sister to come to her aid. Foyi had seen the old hunger for excitement awaken in her eyes when she had discovered Vaevi Zshi was a bounty hunter, and it was obvious she had wanted to assail her with questions regarding her hunts and exploits. But it had been painfully obvious that Vaevi was not even remotely in the mood, and so Tama's curiosity had turned to a more receptive source, that of the unflappable Rayf Moors. He had already gotten around to explaining the basic tenets and philosophy on the Force held by the Matukai, as well as tales from the glory days of the Jedi Order and the horrors and heroism of the Clone Wars. She had been fascinated by the severed portions of his wan-shen, and was eager to see the weapon in use when it was repaired or remade. The stolen lightsaber had been an even greater visual and somatic treat for her, and she had looked upon both Rayf and Foyi, especially her sister, with a new sense of awe when he had related an account of the conflict with the Inquisitor Vinaq, exaggerating Foyi's contributions and downplaying the fact that they had barely survived the encounter. Foyi had no more protests against Rayf's insistence on flamboyant storytelling, and she could not deny the new look of wonder and admiration leveled her way by her sister as Rayf's tale came to a close. The other children had been equally interested in getting to know their true saviors, though both Ashla and Farr seemed skeptical of their sensitivity and capabilities with the Force, whether such abilities were to be cherished or feared. Foyi did not blame their attitude, considering what the man who had claimed to be "their Savior" had been and what he had done. Nuri, on the other hand, seemed quite enamored with the concept of the Force and the abilities of those who utilized it. Though she ultimately seemed glad that she was still alive and in good company than anything else.

Tama looked back to her sister, concern etched into her features. "Is...is she going to be okay?"

Rayf's expression grew troubled as Foyi looked down at her cup. "I don't know. Maybe. Eventually. With time."

"The same could probably be said for all of us," Nuri remarked in a tone of voice that was far too wise and elderly for someone of her age.

"So...what happens...now?" Ashla muttered, finally looking up from her meal and giving Foyi a tentative look. It took the Zeison Sha Warrior a moment to realize everyone in the room was now looking to her. Her lekku twitched in discomfort, and she hid behind her mug to allow herself a moment to think as she imbibed a mouthful of hot caf.

"We leave this planet," Rayf offered for her. "We find your families. Your homes. We bring you back to them."

"What about the others?" Nuri asked, making a wide gesture to indicate the exterior of the ship and the corrupted jungles beyond. "There were other children in those ruins. Many died, but there might be more of them still out there. The...'Shepherd' and his droids weren't the only threats out there."

"We'll search for them, of course," Foyi assured her. "We're not sure what ruins you were imprisoned in, but we'll try and find them and search them thoroughly."

"But you're not hopeful," came Nuri's cynical response.

Foyi looked down at her mug. "We barely found you. Had those droids not attacked you, had we not heard the blasterfire..." She glanced at her sister, who still seemed distracted by something else on her mind. "It sounds more like you were tracking us, anyway. With luck and the Force, we may yet find others still alive."

"Then we leave," Farr insisted again, swiping gangly fingers across his greasy snout. "We go home."

"We'll all go home," Foyi agreed. There were murmurs of agreement, of excitement even, as well as the clacking and clinking of utensils upon platters and dishes, from those who actually bothered with mealtime etiquette. Small talk began to resume amongst those who felt the need for camaraderie, but Tama stood from her seat on woozy legs, muttering something about needing to use the refresher, and left through the hatch. Foyi watched her go, feeling an urge to follow her, to keep her in sight at all possible moments. But she could feel it; Tama was a different person now, for better or worse. She was no longer the little girl who Foyi sometimes treated like her own child. Her crucible had reshaped her into a young woman, one who was damaged but still capable. Who could handle herself. If she required some time alone, then Foyi could not blame her. She glanced to her side to meet Rayf's gaze and offered him the ghost of a smile. He offered his hand, and she took it gladly, squeezing his calloused fingers and palms and letting the serenity he felt bleed through her own essence in the Force.

It would all be alright. Eventually. With time.

---

Tama kept one hand on the wall of the narrow corridor in the bowels of the Flamusfracta, passing several rooms that looked uncomfortably like cells or compartments for the containment of prisoners. Though the majority of these rooms had been repurposed as cabins and storage spaces, the original design and the sensations they evoked sent shivers through her lekku, and she moved past them as quickly as her tired legs could carry her. Her destination was not difficult to find, the cargo hold being the largest room she had seen on the ship, though she still felt an uneasy sense of claustrophobia leaning through its door and into the space beyond. The room was almost empty save for the Iktotchi bounty hunter sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor, various weapons and devices arrayed in a semicircle before her, her E-11s Sniper Rifle balanced across her lap. She was focused on scrubbing mud and spores from the exterior of the weapon with a plastifibe agitator. She had dressed in new clothing that disguised the bacta patches plastered over her wounds like Tama and the other children, though her haggard appearance suggested she had yet to use the sanisteam as they had. Her expression hitched slightly as she noticed Tama's approach, but she gave no other acknowledgment.

Tama stood in the doorway for a moment, watching her clean her impressive arsenal. She had sought this woman out with a purpose, but now that she saw her, she did not know where to begin. "I...I was just wondering..." Tama paused for a moment, then tried again. "I wanted to know if there was anything I could do for you. Do you want some caf?"

"No," Vaevi replied in a hollow, sharp voice. "I'm fine."

Tama lingered in the doorway for an uncomfortable moment, attempting to find the words she wished to offer. She stepped into the hold and pressed her back to the wall, sliding her spine and posterior down the wall until she sat upon the cold floor. Her entire body was far too tired to simply stand around in one spot. "I wanted to thank you...for coming to our rescue."

"You should thank your sister. In these times, it's rare to see one so devoted to their family."

"Family is the most important thing in this galaxy," Tama agreed. "Foyi told me about yours, and I wanted to offer my...condolences."

Vaevi finally looked up, and her eyes had narrowed into a dangerous glare. "Look, kid. I'm glad you and the other younglings are alive, and I'm ecstatic that I could have a part in that. But I didn't ask for your sympathy or your caf. So if you don't mind, why don't you go spend more time with your sister and leave me alone?"

Tama had stared true terror and death in the face multiple times in the last week, so the vibroblades the bounty hunter was glaring her way gave her no qualms. "She told me how the S—he was your husband. How he killed the children you had together."

"He was a psychopath and a murderer; I shouldn't need to tell you that. The galaxy is a better place without him."

Tama nodded. "But you're not a better person now that you've killed him, are you? I mean, a complete being. I saw you in that clearing. You wanted vengeance, yes, but you wanted answers more. Answers you can't get now that he's...gone."

Vaevi returned her gaze to the tools of her trade, but her hand had stalled in cleaning them, no longer focused on her task. "I don't need anything from you, girl. It's great that you're free and all, but why don't you spend that freedom elsewhere, away from me?"

Tama leaned forward, drawing her aching knees to her chest and resting her chin upon them. "I will, but not before I try my best to fill in some of the blanks in the data. You helped rescue me, whatever your reasons...whatever your motivations. You were there for me, whether that was your original intention or not, and so I'm here for you." She took a long, shuddering sigh as she reluctantly dredged up memories she was even now attempting to bury, memories that would never go away, would never rest peacefully unless she faced them directly. She looked up at the Iktotchi again, and could see the woman meeting her gaze, could feel her thoughts reaching out toward her own. Belatedly, Tama remembered that Iktotchi were said to be telepathic. The Twi'lek did not bother to hide her thoughts, wearing her memories openly. Perhaps, if Vaevi could catch glimpses of those memories, she would better understand the words that she felt she must relate. "The entire time we were...trapped in that place...I don't know how to describe it. It was a prison as much as it was a carnival of death. He spoke to us constantly through telepathy, but he was able to speak to all of us simultaneously, and with different messages; I think it was one of the ways he used the Force. I was too tired to understand his abilities at first, and only when it was almost too late did I sense his sensitivity to the Force. I think he drew on the Force almost constantly, the same way he fed on our emotions, like it was...food to him. I got the impression that he never learned to properly control his powers or his emotions, that they controlled him rather than the other way around. It's...hard to describe to someone not sensitive to it." She made a weak, indecipherable gesture with her hands, at a loss for words. "The Force...is so full of power, it can be easy to lose oneself in it. Especially for someone who goes through some traumatic experience. Strong emotions can overcome common sense and control, can lead to a slippery slope that falls into the Dark Side...and once there, it's hard to come back from that. He must have spent...years here. Years on this planet that's so out of balance. I can still feel the Dark Side...calling to me, even now..."

Vaevi narrowed her gaze again. "You don't sound so...balanced yourself."

"You can read my mind. You can see what happened to me and the others. I challenge you to remain 'balanced' after all that," Tama snapped in response. Vaevi's expression closed, and Tama leaned back again, rubbing her forehead wearily. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be...like that. All I'm trying to do here is give you some idea of what might have been going through his mind during...all that happened. He had this twisted view of reality. He was convinced that we were born already tainted with some sort of sin, an 'inner darkness' that had to be cleansed, and the only way to do that was if that darkness was drawn out into the open for all to see. It's why he threw us all together under such harsh circumstances...why he tried to force us to fight monsters, droids, and each other for our very survival. In his mind, forcing us into extreme adversity would force out the darkness, would reveal our 'sins', and then he would feed off our emotions by draining us. He must have thought he was using the Force to take that darkness into himself and destroy it, so that our souls would be purified and ready for...whatever comes next. After this life, I mean."

Vaevi's glare had softened, and in the darkness of her eyes were emerging tears, moisture that had yet to spill down their cheeks. Tama knew that even as the bounty hunter was listening to her, she was viewing the convoluted snatches of Tama's past that continued to swim through the forefront of her mind. She scrutinized Tama's malnourished frame. "You're...fourteen, right? Like...my daughter..."

Tama nodded slowly. "All the girls he had kidnapped were fourteen. And all the boys, twelve standard years. Just like your children. I don't know exactly why he insisted on kidnapping people of ages that mirrored your children. But...I think when he murdered them, that was the beginning of his insanity, and what eventually led to the killing that came later. I think, in his own mind, this was his way of justifying what he did to his children all those years ago. He convinced himself that all beings were naturally born with a hidden darkness, with sins that had not been atoned for, and became accountable at those ages. I don't think his damaged mind could reconcile his actions without creating for himself some role of cosmic importance and sacrifice." She turned away, barely able to continue speaking, but feeling as though she must. "He called us our 'Savior'. He deluded himself into thinking that by forcing us to become wild animals, selfish and without remorse, he could use the Force to drain away our darker natures and allow us to pass away in peace with ourselves and the Force."

Tama paused for a lengthy moment as Vaevi leaned back on her haunches, swiping angrily at the tears that were beginning to trace lines down her cheeks again. Tama, her own voice husky with emotion, forced herself to stand. "You know, when I was trapped...having to listen to his voice in my voice all the time...I hated him. The Zeison Sha teach balance with oneself and the Force, that strong emotions can be useful when necessary, but should never be allowed to become so strong as to lose oneself to them. So hatred was something new to me, something that scared me even more than...he did. But then Foyi told me about you and him, about your children, and...I don't hate him anymore. I don't forgive him, and I won't forget what he did to me and so many others. All the death and pain he was responsible for. But I can't bring myself to hate him anymore. All I feel is...pity. Regret. He was unique in his own way, like any other sentient being, like any other presence in the Force. And a part of me...is sad that he's gone. That he had to die as such a broken shell of a man. That his abilities mastered him, instead of the other way around. That he was so out of balance with the Force, and died that way." She met Vaevi's wavering gaze. "I'm not telling you to forgive him either. I just don't want you to become as broken as he was by...what has occurred."

Vaevi wiped tears from her eyes again. "I'm not broken, girl."

Tama gave her a sad sigh, and in that moment, her features took on such an expression of wisdom and insight, she seemed to age decades in mere seconds. "We're all broken. Sometimes a little. Sometimes a lot. But things that are broken can be repaired. Given time and the right hydrospanner." She pointed down at a hydrospanner lying beside the bounty hunter's C-10 Heavy Blaster Pistol. "Give yourself time, Vaevi. Don't let what either you or he did destroy you, as it did him." Having nothing further to say, Tama let out a small gasp of exertion, of relief, and left through the open hatch, hobbling back toward the lounge. Leaving Vaevi to look down upon her tools and her weapons, her battered hands subconsciously reaching for the indicated hydrospanner and cradling in her lap beside the sniper rifle. She sniffed hard, then let herself devolve into sobs, weeping softly, alone in the empty cargo hold.

---

Vaevi left the Flamusfracta a few hours after the Firespray flew a low course over the jungles of Felucia, skimming the upper edges of the fungal canopies as Rayf angled it toward the clearing where the bounty hunter's ship rested. On the way, Rayf followed the often contradictory and half-remembered directions supplied him by all the former prisoners in a rush of reluctant but flurried speech, leading them all on a course just above the jungle canopies, until the ruins of a former city came into view. Rayf and Vaevi compared the coordinates upon which the ruins sat with telemetry they had gathered of the planet's surface, and identified the remains of a city that had once been called Niango. They made several passes over the buildings, Rayf's cautious and expert piloting keeping them close to the lowest edifices as possible, weaving the Firespray in between sagging and carbon-scored skyscrapers when necessary. They made several passes through the city, and Tama even pointed out an old courtyard where a shield generator emplacement had been. Nuri was quick to jump in with a detailed description of the rancor that Tama had compelled through the Force and its wanton destruction of the Shepherd's droids and the ray shield generator. Farr also made exaggerated remarks regarding his own involvement in these escapades, and for once, Nuri did not angrily contradict him. Rayf scanned the area with the ship's sensor suites, and noted that it did seem to be a warzone.

But that was the most the sensors revealed. The remnants of the Clone Wars, of destruction, of death and despair. What life readings the starship sensed belonged to nonsentient beings, to animals both large and small. They were even able to identify a pair of boma, slinking through the alleys in search of the same small prey that the Flamusfracta's scans had already recorded. Foyi and Vaevi even disembarked and searched some more promising hiding spots by eyes and hands alone, but they found no more survivors. They searched the chosen regions well into the night, and all the two women found were bodies, some torn to partially-consumed shreds by predators, others displaying mortal wounds created by crude blades, blunt objects, or even low-powered blaster bolts. Eventually, neither Zeison Sha or bounty hunter could stomach anymore of the grim search, and gave the rest up for naught. They had already rescued what survivors they could.

Soon thereafter, they found themselves lowering in the clearing that held Vaevi's ship, a battered but functional YT-2000 Light Freighter resting upon a relatively stable and level bluff of stone that had been cleared almost entirely of mud, moss, and mushrooms. From the exterior, the starship showed little distinguishing features upon its beaten hull plating, the type of vessel that would not warrant a second glance if someone were to pass it by on a landing platform or docking bay on any of countless populated worlds. It was inconspicuous, which fit Vaevi's methods and philosophy of hunting bounties perfectly. The larger vessel almost completely occupied the bluff's level surface, so Rayf could not set the Flamusfracta down in the clearing, but he was able to fly close enough to it he could maintain a hovering position within reach of the cliff edge, allowing Vaevi to stride down the off ramp of the Firespray and drop the half-meter to the ground. She landed in a crouch, wincing at the pain that still emanated from her injured leg, then straightened, slinging her pack and weapons over her back. She turned back to the ramp to look upon those who watched her go, her companions throughout the hardships and trials of Felucia. Foyi stood to one side of the ramp, while Rayf waited patiently across from her, having set the Flamusfracta's autopilot to standby mode.

"This is it, then," Vaevi remarked glumly, for lack of anything else pertinent to say.

Rayf gave a short, melodramatic bow. "It was a pleasure making your acquaintance, Vaevi Zshi. You can shoot rancors off my ass anytime."

Vaevi gave him a disbelieving grin. "Do you intend on encountering rancors often from here on out?"

"Emperor's black bones, I hope not."

"Vaevi, thank you," Foyi interjected, and the Iktotchi's gaze found her own. "You helped save my sister and all these children. Without you...I don't know that we would have been reunited."

Vaevi sighed and forced a smile. "It...was my pleasure."

"What will you do now?"

Vaevi rubbed her forehead in consternation. "Maybe...take some time off. I have a lot to think about. I'm not sure I'm in the right profession anymore...or, at least, my reasons for being what I am have changed. If nothing else like that changes, then I suppose...eventually, I'll get back to work."

"Well, if you do go back to bounty hunting," Rayf replied, "I'm sure there's some sort of price on our heads now. We just so happened to anger a lot of powerful and vindictive people in the Outer Rim while we were trying to find the younglings, and we'd appreciate it if you would stay away from any contracts out for our heads."

Foyi held up a finger to indicate she meant to add to Rayf's point. "And if there's anything you could do to discourage others of your field from taking on said contracts, we'd appreciate it."

Vaevi's smile turned genuine, and she hefted the sniper rifle across her back. "I'll see what I can do." She turned to walk the short distance to her ship, triggering the boarding ramp as she approached.

"Don't be a stranger," Rayf called after her. A thought occurred to him, and he added, "Unless you get desperate for creds. Then, please, remain strange."

Vaevi turned to give him a sardonic smile over her shoulder. "I think you're overestimating the value of your head, Captain Moors. But I'll keep that in mind if the money's ever good on hunting the two of you down. If that happens, why don't you make some caf, and we can all sit down for a chat about removing your bounties?"

Foyi did not bother to suppress her smile. "May the Force be with you, Vaevi. And may it guide you to the peace and belonging you're looking for."

Vaevi only answered with a forlorn smile, then turned about and walked up her starship's loading ramp, disappearing from their sight within the confines of the vessel. Rayf turned to stride back into the Flamusfracta, his steps hurried, for he had been concerned that the more adventurous and curious members of their passengers would attempt experiments with the control boards of his ship. Foyi lingered a moment longer, watching as the YT-2000's engines began to warm in their startup sequences, scattering fungal material in great washes of heat. Then Foyi walked back into the interior of the Firespray, making her way to the cockpit in order to strap into her crash restraints, to ride copilot on their next voyage through the stars.

---

The following days were spent in and out of hyperspace, the only pauses in their voyage necessitated by stops for refueling, or reaching the various destinations they had set for themselves. The children rescued from the clutches of the Shepherd may have been traumatized and put through a horrendous ordeal, but none of them had forgotten the homes and families from which they had been taken, their previous lives they sought once again in the vain hope that they might find some comfort in a return to normalcy. For their sakes, both Foyi and Rayf hoped such would be the case, but inwardly doubted any of them, prisoners and rescuers alike, would find the familiarity of the past within reach.

In a positive light, their voyage took them to many planets and locations that Foyi had never before seen, some of which she had only heard of. Tama was almost ecstatic with the prospect of traveling the galaxy on a starship; while this was her second flight, she had spent her first locked in the cargo hold of a slaver's ship, under the heavy influence of drugs inducing deep slumber. She almost spent more time in the cockpit than Rayf did, often staring out at the blue and white whorls of hyperspace, the way the stars elongated into infinite lines of light, only to revert to the distant points representing stars and the invisible systems of planets, moons, planetoids, and debris spread throughout the entirety of the galaxy. Foyi would often try to be in the cockpit when Rayf jumped the Firespray in and out of hyperspace, for it was in these rare moments that the darkness she saw lurking deep in Tama's eyes would dissipate, and she would experience even fleeting moments of true wonder. It was a wonder Foyi shared, and subconsciously, the sisters would reach out to each other in the Force, their essences intermingling the waves exuded by their presences, becoming attuned to each other and sharing the exhilaration they felt upon seeing the galaxy that had been so far removed from their lives on Yanibar.

Rayf had spent a great amount of time interviewing the rescued children, asking them for coordinates and contact information regarding the families they were taken from, and the worlds they called home. After determining the course they would take throughout the disparate locations chosen in the galaxy, Rayf announced that he would be charting a course that more or less followed the Perlemian Trade Route, so they should brace themselves for plenty of interstellar traffic, and potential Imperial patrols. He then placed a restriction on the rescued children regarding premature contact with their loved ones until they came considerably closer to their chosen destinations, for Rayf was considering the bounties he and Foyi may have inspired upon their heads, as well as the Imperial forces they had angered on multiple occasions. He did not want anyone aboard the Flamusfracta to make calls through the Holonet unless absolutely necessary, in case unfriendly ears were listening. Nuri was particularly angered by this proclamation, as they had yet to track down the whereabouts of her father, or even whether he still lived or not. So her rage was fed by her desperation for knowledge regarding the health and wellbeing of her father. It took several moments for Tama to convince her of the caution they must practice in order to not attract undue attention to themselves, and though Nuri did not like it in the least, she finally, begrudgingly, accepted this course of action. Farr was similarly vocal against Rayf's intentions, but he was silenced when Nuri turned her unfocused anger upon him and indefinitely shut him up. Ashla said nothing at all, merely staring off into space again, her emotions so tortured and boiling, it was unlikely even she knew what she was feeling. Yet she quietly provided Rayf the requested information and withdrew into herself once more, offering no verbal opinion on the overall course.

Only later, and in private, did Rayf admit to Foyi that he was more concerned with the kids' families being tipped off too early to their imminent arrivals, and how they might react to the news that the children were still alive. He had no doubts that they would be ecstatic, but he was concerned that they might misinterpret his and Foyi's intentions, both of whom were complete strangers to these families. Rayf did not relish the possibility that they might find scores of law enforcement officials, or even stormtroopers, waiting for them when they tried to return the children to their families, and he did not want to be mistaken for the kidnappers. Foyi agreed wholeheartedly with these sentiments, and spent the rest of the trip attempting to keep the rescued children occupied and healthy. She soon learned that Farr was an expert at dejarik, though it took her almost a dozen rounds to realize she simply did not have the practice or talent for the game that the Rodian did. These attempts at passing the time became more interesting when Rayf showed them all how to play sabacc, save for Nuri, who already knew how to play, and bluffed well enough to amass the largest quantity of dew cakes for which they played instead of credits.

Eventually, they reached their first stop, which for Rayf, Foyi, and Farr was a return to a place previously visited, the grand, sweeping cylinder surrounded by a spoked ring of docking bays and habitation, the imposing yet ostentatious space station known as the Wheel. They wended their way through a morass of starships leaving and entering the controlled space around the installation, which Rayf gained access to by once again calling upon the false persona he had used on their previous visit, that of an adventurous, odd, but ultimately unassuming member of the Tapani House Barnaba. They were granted access to a hangar physically similar to the one they had been allowed to use on their previous visit, though the berth's space was designated Docking Bay 37. While Rayf followed the beacons provided and activated the Flamusfracta's landing sequence, he allowed Farr to contact his parents, both of whom worked in various capacities with the casinos onboard. After passing through customs, during which Rayf put on the facade of a flighty and eccentric member of foreign nobility, though he did not bother to dress in the obsequious garments he had donned earlier, those aboard the ship simply waited in anticipation. Particularly Farr, who was most anxious to see his parents again, and would not stop jabbering to himself in a mixture of Rodese and Huttese. He was clearly beside himself with the irrational worry that his parents may somehow lose their way through the airflow transit system aboard the space station, even though their careers and lives had been spent almost entirely on the Wheel.

Farr's parents must have dropped whatever they were doing at the time the son they thought lost had contacted them, for barely ten standard minutes after, they appeared at the sealed doors of the docking bay, begging the security personnel to let them in. Instantly suspicious, the members of the Wheel Security Force assigned to the bay tried to dissuade the insistent Rodian couple from approaching the door, until Rayf emerged from beyond it and happily invited them in, explaining to the humans' questioning expressions that they were "distant relations". Foyi found that lie even more ridiculous than the one supposing familial relations between herself and Rayf, but the Matukai Adept merely grinned and replied, "Who says I can't have a little fun with the reputation of House Barnaba?"

Foyi's lekku curled in exasperation. "I'll bet House Barnaba would say so."

"I am of House Barnaba!" Rayf protested, in a voice that was so artificially cultured and melodramatic, Foyi could not stifle her laughter as a result.

But none of the others gathered paid any attention to the exchange, for they had eyes only for the tearful and fervent reunion of Farr and his parents. They held each other in fast and fierce embraces, tears leaking from their bulbous, multifaceted eyes, their hands intertwined as though letting go of each other would cause one, or all of them, to drift apart forever. Farr's parents were dressed in garments of shimmersilk, zeyd-cloth, and other expensive and flashy materials, denoting their stations as employees of establishments catering only to the upper echelons of galactic society. Despite the pro-human bias found almost everywhere the presence of the Empire's New Order was felt, Farr's parents had obviously done well for themselves. Foyi hoped that by asking them to meet on such short notice, they had not abandoned duties that would result in the termination of their stations onboard the Wheel. Though she assumed that if they had, they would have deemed the return of their son worth the cost to their careers and livelihoods.

The Rodian couple were only too willing to show their gratitude to everyone else gathered with ferocious embraces and vigorous clasping of hands. Farr's mother squeezed Rayf so tightly that he began to look uncomfortable. Farr's father clasped her hand with such insistence, Foyi almost suggested he keep it, though she doubted he would have understood her levity, considering he seemed only able to speak Rodese fluently, and a few words of Huttese besides. Farr's mother was similarly unable to communicate fluently, and so their son was put in the awkward position of translating for his parents, who insisted they pay a substantial sum of credits in reward for the rescue and return of their son. Foyi and Rayf had to counter with their own insistence that they needed no reward; that the only reward they required was the one they had already received, being the reunion of Farr with his family. And though his parents continued to urgently try to offer them growing sums of credits, Rayf and Foyi's obstinacy proved relentless, and the Rodian couple finally assented to their refusal. At that point, they were eager to leave, partially motivated by the embarrassment they felt for being unable to reward their son's liberators, but also by their desire to spend as much of the day's remainder with their son. They would most likely spend as much time as they could manage for the foreseeable future with their rescued son. So they chose to leave the docking bay and the exotic ship upon which they had met, but Farr lingered behind long enough to throw his arms around the wispy frame of Tama in an awkward and desperate embrace. Tama went rigid almost immediately, completely shocked by the Rodian's abrupt show of affection. Before she could think of a way to respond, Farr pulled back and met her eyes briefly and sheepishly. "Sorry for being real sleemo," Farr murmured. "And thank you for not giving up, even when we gave up." The Rodian boy did not await her response and turned to run back down the Flamusfracta's boarding ramp, joining his parents, and the trio strode hand in hand to the door that would allow them to return to the more populous portions of the space station beyond the interior of Docking Bay 37, and eventually, the home that Farr had been taken from. They left Tama still standing there in a stunned silence. Nuri came to her side and placed a friendly hand on her arm, her attention on the receding backs of the Rodians.

"I thought he didn't like me," Tama murmured in confusion.

"He probably doesn't," Nuri surmised cynically. "But it seems that Farr was finally able to pull his antennae out of his exhaust port long enough to recognize how much he owed you. Who would've thought he had an intelligent thought in that laserbrain of his?"

Tama smirked. "To tell the truth, I'm almost going to miss his complaints and broken Basic. It was kinda...endearing. Sometimes."

Nuri snorted in derision. "I think you're the only one. Good riddance." Tama turned to look at her due to her hard-edged tone, but there was a mirroring smirk on her lips as well.

They left the Wheel shortly thereafter, and Rayf jumped the Flamusfracta to hyperspace, continuing to follow the Perlemian as it curved into the Core of the galaxy, a journey even lengthier than the one that had carried them from Felucia to the space station of gambling and excess. It was during this time that Foyi discovered how boring travel through hyperspace could be, as the majority of those still aboard the vessel spent most of the intervening time trying to sleep. Tama, Nuri, and Ashla were all exhausted, and took advantage of the bunks in the ship's cabins to acquire some semblance of slumber, oft-interrupted by nightmares and post-traumatic flashes. Rayf filled the time by wandering about his ship, taking diagnostics and seeming to commune with the vessel on a supernatural level, all while attempting to look busy. But occasionally, Foyi would wander up to the cockpit to find the man slumped in the pilot's seat in various states of sleep, sometimes merely dozing, other times in a deep, meditative trance, where his presence in the Force had expanded so far from his physical form, it was difficult to sense him as an individual being.

For Foyi, she found respite from her meandering thoughts and lingering fears in practice and training, staying mostly to the cargo hold, where she practiced Force forms and martial techniques to keep herself in shape, and to test the limits on her body prescribed by the many injuries she had suffered that continued to heal. Infrequently, she would descend into meditative trances of her own, allowing the Force to rejuvenate the weariness of her body and speed the healing of her wounds. For those times she could not find the serene center of the choppy waters within her, she continued to practice the Zeison Sha arts she had memorized for years. She felt restless in those moments Tama actually found peaceful sleep, and continually tried to burn the nervous energy from her body through continued exertion.

Thus, Foyi found little actual sleep during the next stage of their journey, though she felt rested and alert enough as they approached their destination, the busy and multicultural world of Brentaal IV, better known simply as Brentaal. The temperate but slightly uncomfortably arid world sat directly on the intersection of the Hydian Way and Perlemian Trade Route, and had thus become the galactic epitome of trade and commerce, an overpopulated and intricately stratified society of billions all focused on the pursuit of trade and accumulating material wealth. They could barely see the brown and ocher world hanging in the darkness of space through the viewports for the sheer number of silhouettes created by innumerable starships and space installations. Despite the vastness of the void, the immediate area surrounding the world was practically cramped with starships of all function and description angling toward the planet's orbit, or escaping its gravitational pull for the farthest reaches of hyperspace. Accompanying these veritable swarms of vessels were decidedly Imperial vessels, from Rendili StarDrive's Customs Corvettes to the imposing wedges of Star Destroyers knifing through the sphere of the world before them like a vibroblade. Clustered in low orbit about the planet were revolving XQ2 Platforms, space stations allowing the enormous swarms of traffic to be shunted through their terminals in an attempt to control the flows of vessels arriving and leaving the planet's space.

Through luck or Rayf's "irresistible charm" heard through the comm channel, he secured a berth at Votrad Independent Downport, the largest and busiest spaceport of the planet, located in the city of Votrad. The Firespray-31 sped over the landscape as it approached the city, the blue air broken by clouds of gray and brown over tumultuous terrain alternating between plateaus, ridges, gorges, and ravines. Most of these lands that were not covered by the world's encompassing megalopoli gave way to vast deserts, baked flats, and even forests of sturdy, resilient trees. Like many of the individual cities that had not bled together into the overall urban regions, Votrad was surrounded by high walls practically bursting at the seams with edifices devoted to both residential and business interests, though most seemed to have been built with the ability to function as either. The sea of buildings were stark in decoration and design, but the construction intimated organic appearances that were surprisingly beautiful in their simplicity.

Rayf brought his ship into a spiraling pattern above the spaceport, following the beacon for the docking facility they had been assigned and similarly avoiding the other starships attempting to land at the Downport. They settled into a bay that had obviously been designed to be a modern and aesthetically-pleasing facility, but it was used far too regularly for the cleaners to maintain that appearance, the floor and walls carbon-scored and scraped by countless sets of landing gear and afterburners. The docking bay's open ceiling allowed the chamber to echo with the roar of starships streaking overhead, afterburners and sublight drives nearly shattering their ears with the vibrations that shivered through the air and made the very floor beneath their feet quiver as they stepped down from the ramp. Rayf and Foyi led the procession, Rayf guiding the quiet form of Ashla with a gentle hand upon her shoulder, while Tama and Nuri followed behind at a meter's worth of distance. They had come to this overpopulated and decidedly Imperial world for the Togruta girl's sake, and yet she had barely emerged from her inner thoughts and the tangled malaise of emotions that continued to keep her trapped in her own interior world. If the thought of returning to her home and loved ones excited her, she did not show it. Foyi grimaced as she looked down at the girl, hoping with her return to her previous life, she might finally begin to find some peace.

They did not have to wait long for the one who had agreed to meet them, a tall, slim Togruta woman in her middle years just beginning to show her age, dressed in conservative and professional garments with corporate logos emblazoned on the uniform. The symbol upon her shoulder depicted a triptych of triangles set within a starburst, and a whispered clarification from Rayf identified it as the corporate logo for Kuat Drive Yards. Once she knew this, Foyi saw the woman in a new light, as a person used to bearing the weight of multiple taxing responsibilities upon her shoulders and doing so with grace and efficiency. The set of her face suggested she was accustomed to affecting neutral expressions and refusing to show emotions, but when her dark eyes fell upon Ashla, her trained facade fell away to an onslaught of joy, fear, relief, and despair simultaneously. She rushed across the intervening space in the docking bay and caught the girl up in her arms, babbling incoherently as she whispered the name of her daughter over and over gain. Ashla merely accepted the embrace at first, practically dangling from her mother's arms, before her own arms came up to clasp her mother's spine and shoulders. The pair of Togruta held each other close as though their lives depended upon their proximity to each other, murmuring in a mixture of Basic and Togruti, assuring the other that they would be alright, that they would survive. Rayf, Foyi, Nuri, and Tama stood at the base of the ramp and watched passively but happily as Ashla and her mother shared private words. The Togruta woman finally pulled her daughter from her breast and held her out at arms' length; her expression nearly descended into abject sadness when she saw how much her daughter had changed in all aspects, how the horrors she had been forced to endure had been etched into her skin almost as palpably as the stripes of her montrals. But she stifled her sobs and turned her gaze above her daughter's head as she looked to the people who had deigned to reunite them. "I don't know who you are," she said in thickly-accented Basic. "And I don't know why you chose to help my Ashla...but I thank you. I must ask how I can express my gratitude...you seek compensation...anything. I can get it for you. I am well-placed with Kuat Drive Yards...I have credits..."

"It's gonna be like this everywhere we go, isn't it?" Foyi whispered an aside to Rayf.

"Not if we run into more Imperials, or Anjiliacs," Rayf answered in a hiss. "They'll offer to shoot us before they pay us."

"The only compensation we wanted was making sure Ashla was safe," Tama answered for the momentarily distracted Rayf and Foyi. "We need nothing more."

The Togruta countered with another offer, but Foyi and Rayf talked her down once more. She turned out far easier to convince that they wanted no reward for rescuing her daughter than Farr's parents had been, which Foyi privately found both a relief and an annoyance. The Togruta woman was eager to take her daughter back home with her, back into the confusing tangle of urbanity that was Votrad, and they left, gripping each others arms close, moments later. Ashla took one look back over her shoulder, never saying another word, and barely managed a hesitant and sad smile, as if the expression gave her physical pain. Foyi and Rayf waved, while Tama and Nuri managed sad smiles of their own. Tama sunk deep into worried contemplations regarding the girl's future for a long time after that. She feared that their shared experiences on Felucia had broken the girl. That Ashla might never be whole again, and that was a sobering possibility.

The last leg of their journey came as a surprise, the destination having not been initially planned, though Tama suspected Rayf had already set their course for the inevitable jump to hyperspace when she heard Nuri let out a shout that was as much an exultation of joy as it was a sob. The Zabrak came sprinting through the Firespray's main corridor and flung herself into Tama's surprised arms, tears flinging from her eyes as she cried, "We found him! He's alive!"

"Your father?" Tama guessed excitedly, wrapping her own arms around the girl's waist.

Nuri pulled back from the Twi'lek so that she could see her face, which she cupped in her hands. "Yes!" she exclaimed, her voice quivering with joy she could no longer contain. "My father's alive! Rayf finally got in contact with him...he's still on Nar Shaddaa!"

Tama felt both anticipation and apprehension at the revelation of their next destination. Most of what she knew regarding the infamous Smugglers' Moon had been related to her by Pash, who had an almost irrational fear of the place, or anything having to do with the Hutt kajidics. She knew enough that if they were to land there, they would have to be on their guards at all times, even for a simple meeting to reunite Nuri with her father. If Nuri was concerned with their destination, Tama could not feel it in her presence; after all, it was where she said she had been captured by slavers, though the casual way in which she spoke of the moon suggested it was a familiar, and possibly oft-visited, location.

The journey from the Core Worlds to Hutt Space was long and relatively droll. Rayf continued to fiddle with the various onboard systems of his ship, though it was not long before he began tinkering with the lightsaber he had acquired from the Inquisitor on Felucia. He proceeded to open its casing and study the components inside with a trained eye, keeping special attention upon the synthetic color crystal that gave the blade its foreboding color and appearance. Occasionally, Tama would join him in studying the lightsaber, though she was equally interested in the construction and proficiency of his wan-shen, a weapon she was unfamiliar with and therefore just as fascinating as the legendary laser sword once wielded by the Jedi of old. He was only too happy to explain the construction of both weapons, as well as discussing the utility unique to each blade, the costs of using one over the other. He even let the Twi'lek handle the lightsaber, and put her through a few simple forms to give her a feel for it. Up until this point, most of Tama's training with weapons as extensions of herself and her own abilities with the Force had been focused around ranged weaponry, such as blasters and nonlethal versions of the Zeison Sha discblade. Rayf had not had the time or materials to repair, or even replace, his wan-shen, though he demonstrated some of the melee forms he was capable of using in conjunction with the weapon on lengthy wooden poles he kept for practice purposes. Tama took up one of the poles herself, and found it instinctively more accessible than a discblade. She could feel that her connection to the Force had only grown due to the utter reliance she had placed upon it on Felucia, but she still had difficulty with the intricacies of telekinesis; she was uncertain she had the knack for such precise movements with her mind, unlike her sister. She was not certain she ever would.

She even challenged Rayf to a sparring match to pass the time and to test her affinity for the weapon, taking up one of the wooden staffs and indicating that Rayf should do the same. Rayf complied and invited her to take the first attack, which she did, confident in the strength of her swing and the aim by which it was whirled. But Rayf barely lifted a finger to shatter that confidence, simply deflecting her attack to the side and giving her legs a hard tap that unbalanced her and sent her sprawling. All of this he did within a second or more, moving faster than anyone Tama had ever seen, and before she could even comprehend his counter attack, she was already lying on the deck, gasping, with Rayf standing over her, appearing as calm as he normally did. He gave a short laugh at the bewildered grimace on her face, then reached with the end of his staff to help haul her back to her feet, at which point he offered to show her more, to see if her skills could be improved.

Foyi spent most of the time considering her shredded and broken armor, determining what types of materials she would require to repair and remake it, and whether she would have to fashion an entirely new set of armor. The metal appeared to be salvageable, but she would have to create whole new weaves and an underlay for it, so it was possible she would simply find all the right materials and create a new set. As for her discblade, there was nothing left of her cherished weapon to scavenge, and thus she would have to create one from whatever materials she could get her hands on. She momentarily considered Sho Sura's warehouse back in the shadowport of Point Nadir; it was a place she would likely be able to acquire the metals and wrappings needed to craft her discblade anew. In some ways, having to make the weapon again was an inconvenience, but she felt a deep sense of nostalgia considering the task ahead of her, recalling when she had made her discblade the first time, at the culmination of her Initiate training. Her rite of passage that marked her as a full-fledged Warrior of the Zeison Sha.

Nuri spent the majority of the voyage in various calls on the comlink Rayf lent her, calls to her father, who awaited their arrival impatiently on Nar Shaddaa. Tama was not privy to these personal conversations, but Nuri shared enough with her friend to learn that her father had been injured by the Anjiliac slavers and had had to barter and steal for the medical supplies and bacta to treat his wounds. It was only in the last couple days that he had been fit enough to travel, and had already been making inroads with various contacts and sources he had acquired throughout the black markets and underworld to attempt to locate where the Anjiliac thugs had taken his daughter, busting quite a few heads and leaving more than one "Hutt-lickin' scumbag" in the gutter with blaster burns. His veritable rampage for answers had left him with no small amount of trouble on Nar Shaddaa to contend with, especially with members of the Anjiliac Kajidic there, but he had every intention of waiting until she and her newfound friends arrived, no matter how heated it got for him. This prompted Nuri to query Rayf as to their estimated time of arrival on the Smugglers' Moon almost every hour, but to his credit, the Matukai Adept never allowed himself to become annoyed with her insistence. For her part, Tama attempted to keep Nuri's attention by asking her for stories from her adventurous life before the Shepherd and Felucia. Through nearly a dozen tales Tama was not certain she could wholeheartedly believe, she discovered that Nuri's father was a smuggler and blockade runner who regularly transported goods of various legality through territory controlled by powerful organizations such as Black Sun, the Desilijic Kajidic, the Corporate Sector, and even the Empire. Which was the reason for Nuri having had the opportunities to visit so many disparate systems in the galaxy, as well as her excellent proficiency with blasters. She had led a dangerous existence before the Shepherd's machinations mired her in the depths of his darkness, and Tama found it almost startling to find the Zabrak girl so eager to return to a life that would continually put her in further jeopardy. But she could not deny the allure of a return to whatever had been considered normal for the individual, an allure she felt deep within whenever she considered the harsh world she had called home for her entire life. Whereas Yanibar had once represented her home, as well as a source of consistent annoyance and apprehension due to its unforgiving environment and the necessity of disguising what she truly was, she felt almost nothing regarding the planet anymore whenever her mind dwelt overlong on it. Her life, her existence, as she had once known it had been completely turned upon its head, and somehow, going back to that place, even with the subconscious pull of nostalgia, was not an appealing course of action for her. So Tama tried not to think too deliberately regarding the future, and when she did not feel it necessary to practice and train with the staff she had taken up and the Force she had gained a new viewpoint on, she tried to spend time with her friend, actually dreading their arrival at Nar Shaddaa. For now the Smugglers' Moon represented a fear of encompassing change as much as it did the romance of adventure and excitement; Tama often found herself trembling whenever Nuri spoke of reuniting with her father. The practical side of her realized that Nuri and her father would want to be a family again. The selfish side of her mewled in sadness, begging her to keep her friend close at all times.

So it was with vision tainted by conflicted feelings that Tama stared out through the viewport from behind the pilot's chair at the moon of a sulfurous yellow, brown, and gray, intersected by a patchwork grid of lights denoting the sphere's cancerous urbanity. Nar Shaddaa hung in space like a bloated disc of lurid glows and dark, amorphous shapes that might have been weather systems, but were more likely amalgamations of pollution in the atmosphere as large as continents. Below it, lining the bottom edge of the viewports, was the planet around which the Smugglers' Moon orbited, awash with a similar color palette, though the presence of civilization and large cities were far less prevalent, and more green, gold, and blacks could be seen peering through the tumultuous atmosphere of the planet. Tama had only seen the planet in holos, but she knew enough about Hutt Space from Pash and her own research that she was staring down at Nal Hutta, throneworld of the majority of the Hutt kajidics and the "Glorious Jewel" of Hutt Space.

Unlike their previous stops, their approach to the moon was not challenged by some form of docking administration and security, nor were they asked to log a flight path or directed to certain landing accommodations. Rayf simply angled the Flamusfracta to pierce the polluted and turbulent upper reaches of the moon's atmosphere and spiraled down through the miles of vertical city entangled upon each other. He wove his way through a morass of architecture that might be decaying, rusted, and carbon-scored upon one edifice, only for the next multi-tiered tower to look as though it had been built yesterday, with gleaming surfaces already grimy with unidentifiable scum and myriad lights both neon and holographic casting garish glows through the moon's haze. Tama could not peel her eyes from the spectacle in a sense of morbid fascination, marveling at how an entire world could be subject to so much development and intelligent construction, only for its enormous populace to regard the accomplishments of old with such destructive apathy. She refrained from reaching out to the Force to get a feel for the world, lest she become overwhelmed by the darkness she felt here, the miasma of unnatural desires, anger, greed, lust, hatred, and desperation so tangible they practically created a layer of the atmosphere all their own, all hovering on the verge of her perceptions. She looked to Foyi to see a strained expression on her face, but Rayf's features, while pinched in concentration as he guided the ship, were otherwise passive. Nuri's countenance merely held barely-contained excitement as she looked forward to seeing her father again.

Rayf brought the Firespray-31 replica in a wide arc around a mass of skyscrapers that had been built so close together, they appeared to be leaning on each other, or perhaps a single building with multiple partitions and wings. Around these edifices came into view an immense canyon described by more skyscrapers and stacked multileveled towers of alien architecture, the canyon plunging into depths murky with smog and environmental pollution, crossed by thousands of airspeeders, repulsorcraft, and starships large and small. Rising from the midst of these depths upon a tower of countless lights, like a beacon of light emerging from deepest darkness, was a semi-enclosed courtyard, ringed by thoroughfares and walkways large enough for repulsortrucks to utilize, surrounding a series of smaller, glitzy, edifices denoting businesses and storefronts. The area was illuminated by lights of all description and luminosity, as well as holographic signs and figures. Suspended advertisements in Aurebesh and Huttese characters scrolled by in midair, accompanied by symbols representing various crime syndicates and Hutt Clans, while holographic depictions of trees from across the galaxy lined the outer walkways. The center of the courtyard was a relatively open area frequented by whole crowds of beings hailing from too many species to name, all walking or conversing around a gargantuan statue of tarnished gold depicting a truly impressive Hutt leaning upon a pedestal, an ostentatious hat upon his head.

"That's the Promenade," Nuri exclaimed, gesturing at the series of shops and entertainment venues straddling the top of the tower emerging from the smog. "Where Father wanted us to meet!"

"That's the biggest karking Hutt I've ever seen," Tama added, staring at the statue that was pulling out of view as the Flamusfracta leveled itself with one of the landing platforms along the outer edges of the Promenade.

Foyi gave her a disapproving glance at her choice in language, but both Tama and Nuri ignored her. "It's Karagga the Unyielding," Nuri explained. "Or rather, a likeness of him. He used to be the Supreme Mogul of the Hutt Cartel thousands of years ago, during the Cold War between the Old Republic and the Sith Empire, and was even a military leader for the Cartel's forces during the Galactic War. As you can see, he had too much pride, which is probably the reason he decided to attack both sides with the Cartel's forces, resulting in his death. His statue's remained ever since, though not always in the best conditions. It makes this place pretty easy to find...plus, it's neutral territory for all the kajidics and other criminal organizations, and protected by the Cartel's thugs to make certain it's one of the 'safest' places to shop and relax on all of Nar Shaddaa. Probably why my father chose it for a meeting place."

"Well, I certainly appreciate a 'safe' location," Rayf remarked, flipping a few switches to trigger the landing sequence. "Foyi and I aren't likely to be invited for a friendly cup of caf and match of sabacc by anyone in the Hutt Cartel anytime soon. Especially if they're from the Anjiliac Clan."

"Why's that?" Nuri asked.

"We may or may not have vaped a lot of their henchmen for one," Rayf replied offhandedly.

"And dropped a gravsled on one of the Anjiliac Hutts. Don't forget that," Foyi added.

Nuri and Tama's eyes had grown as large as a whaladon's. "Is that Hutt still...alive?" Nuri asked breathlessly.

Foyi shrugged. "Probably. We didn't try to kill him...just give him a little squeeze."

Rayf queued the landing sequence, and the ship settled upon a landing platform extending from the outer edges of the Promenade. They exited the vessel via the boarding ramp, Nuri practically sprinting down its length in her rush to see her father again, though a hand upon her shoulder from Rayf slowed her considerably, reminding her to remain close to the rest of the group. They began their trek about the exterior thoroughfares of the Promenade, the wind of the upper city bringing a miasma of foul odors and alien aromas to their noses, the unnatural, sulfuric air leaving a slimy moisture upon their skin and a film of grime in their hair and garments. They passed Rodians, Trandoshans, Ishi-Tib, humans, Zeltrons, Ganks, Houks, and Selonians in a blur of movement and furtive hustle, pushing their way through the denser parts of the crowd and not bothering to offer apology. Tama got the impression that looking at almost anyone here wrong, much less speaking to them without consent, would invariably lead to some form of confrontation.

Nuri stayed at the front of the group, not only because of her insistence upon finding her last blood relative, but also because she had been here before, and thus was the only person of their troupe who knew where she was going. Not that their path was difficult to determine; they followed the covered but open-walled balconies of the main thoroughfare, past parked speeders, shuffling and jostling passerby, luxurious skiffs, and docked starships before their path took them to another section of the Promenade, one larger in its width, with multiple levels, monuments, and more holographic imagery. It was here that the Promenade opened fully to the hazy, shrouded air above them, the murky light of the sun filtering through the roiling clouds overtaken by holographic illumination. The expansive square before them featured multiple tiers, all descending to a central area that was dominated by the helmed and gilt statue of the Unyielding Supreme Mogul who had yielded to death long ago. The outer perimeters of the square were lined with shops and business areas for various syndicates and kajidics, as well as extravagant casinos and opulent cantinas. A market frequented by hundreds took up much of the floor space on the far side of the Promenade, featuring stalls and stands for entrepreneurial and specialized goods and services both legitimate and illicit.

Nuri skirted the outer edges of this commercial district, leading them around the Promenade's perimeter until they reached the garish entrance to a cantina, an opening in the outer wall with hovering Aurebesh characters announcing it as the "Slippery Slopes Cantina". Nuri trotted through the open entrance as though she belonged there, ushering them all into an immense room with a ceiling soaring meters above their heads, while four stories of balconies, their edges without railings and lined in purple and blue illumination, ascended up the walls of the main room, looming above the multitudinous tables and plush seating arrayed across the floor. Hanging from the center of the room was a large sphere of light pulsing along to music with a thunderous beat and catchy syncopation, screens depicting advertisements and news gleaned from the HoloNet revolving around the cylindrical terminals in which the sphere was ensconced. Multiple bars offered all manner of drinks gleaned from automixers and a staggering assortment of alcohols, while dejarik and sabacc tables were scattered about the floor for the use of players both professional and casual. They had arrived at a time when the cantina experienced many customers, specimens from dozens of species lounging around tables or at the bars, cradling drinks or plasti-packs of spice, while never letting at least one appendage stray far from a blaster or vibroblade. No one gave close attention to the four travelers as they entered, for they were only one of almost three groups entering or leaving the establishment at the same time.

Rayf, Foyi, and Tama waited as Nuri scanned the crowd, searching for a familiar face. It was Rayf who spotted her father first, as a Zabrak man maybe ten years Rayf's senior suddenly sprang upright from a table, spilling his drink, and pushed past a Nautolan and a Ryn to sprint the intervening space to them. Nuri turned to see the approaching Zabrak man and jumped forward, her focus only upon him as her eyes filled with tears. The Zabrak made no sound but a choked sob as he dropped to his knees and crushed the emaciated frame of his daughter to his chest; Nuri threw her arms about his neck and gave herself over to weeping.

The Zabrak man buried his haggard face in Nuri's shoulder, his hand stroking her ruffled hair. "Uma ji mun, mah cheekah. Inkabunga! Inkabunga!"

"Father..." Nuri whispered in a hoarse voice. "I...I thought you were dead..."

The Zabrak man pushed her back to arms' length, both their eyes leaking tears. "And...I thought you were dead as well...I thought those sleemos had killed my little girl, but here you are, back again, safe and sound." He looked her over, and the sheer joy in his expression was clouded over when he saw the physical state she was in. "Sweets, you need e'nachu." His gaze then shifted to take in those who had followed Nuri in, and he stood, never taking his hands fully from his daughter's shoulders. "Da chuda! Come! We'll sit, eat, drink, and make merry, and you can introduce me to all those who brought my little girl back to me from the dead."

They took the man upon his offer, finding a table along the outer edges of the cantina, where the distracting music did not seem to be so dizzying with its undulating volume. The Zabrak man introduced himself as Venec Solad, a self-styled "entrepreneur", to which Nuri happily tacked on the descriptor "smuggler" to better describe him and his line of work. He was tall and thin, almost gaunt in countenance, though Tama was uncertain whether this was due to his recent wounds or simply his physicality. His piercing eyes held a gaze that Nuri had inherited, though his features were more severe and sharp than hers, marred by a pair of scars on his chin and along his left jaw and ear. He possessed a full head of black hair he pulled into a lengthy ponytail at the nape of his neck, save for two long strands he let fall directly before his ears. He dressed himself in a worn jacket of faded gray and blue, with multiple pockets and a high collar, under which was a pale, long-sleeved shirt of heavy, ribbed cloth. He wore a pair of spacers' trousers tucked into old travel boots, kept upon his thin waist by a utility belt laden with pouches and sheathes for vibroblades and a pair of blaster pistols, one of which was a DL-18 Blaster Pistol, the other a DH-23 Outback Blaster Pistol. His look and mannerisms reminded Tama of both Pash and Rayf, and she wondered if people who regularly skirted the law for profit and adventure subconsciously dressed the same way to identify themselves to prospective clients and those "in the know".

Venec treated them all to drinks and small trays of exotic snacks and appetizers Tama could not begin to name, though her stomach gave an appreciative growl as she consumed the sustenance before her. With both enraptured interest and poorly-hidden fear he listened to the tale of the horrid events on Felucia, as related to him by his own daughter and Tama chiefly, while Rayf and Foyi offered information to fill in gaps. The more they spoke, the greater disturbance in the man's emotional state Tama could sense, until he was practically shaking with the onslaught of thoughts and possibilities that might have befallen Nuri. Tama could sense some of these thoughts, and practically view many of them herself, as they were so close to the surface of his consciousness. She empathized with his fear, for she had considered many of the same possibilities. Even though she sat here, relatively safe compared to her situation on Felucia and surrounded by family and friends, she shuddered as she considered all the terrible things that could have befallen her and the others who had managed to escape. This only brought her mind to dwell upon the awful things that did happen to those not fortunate enough to make it out alive, and she sat quietly, picking at her food, unable to bring herself to make anymore conversation, considering she could barely breathe. She felt Foyi's hand on her shoulder, radiating calm and assurance as her fingers brushed her jacket, reminding her that she was safe, that her sister would continue to be with her to protect and support her. Tama showed her appreciation with a subconscious expansion of her presence in the Force and a flick of her tchun, but deep within her core, she was not certain her sister's support was truly comforting.

When Nuri ultimately assured her father that her kidnapper was dead, the nervous energy of the Zabrak man began to dissipate in a rush. He looked into his daughter's eyes, his expression fervent. "You're certain? You saw him dead?"

Nuri's face soured as she recalled the memory of the Shepherd's body in the mud, most of his torso ripped to shreds by laserfire. "He's dead. He's not coming back."

"Good," Venec replied, throwing an arm around his daughter's shoulders and hugging her close. "I'm never letting another murglak get ahold of you, Nuri. I promise."

She patted his arm, smiling with genuine serenity. "I know, Father. And I'm never letting you out of my sight again, either."

"Oh good," he replied mischievously. "I could use my trusty copilot again. Someone to keep an eye on my back, and a good blaster at my side. Speaking of which..." He leaned over to a satchel he had set beside his chair and from its interior produced a weapons belt with slots for power packs and a holster containing a KYD-21 Blaster Pistol, modified for quick draw and a small but steady hand, with a double trigger and a pulse charger enhancement to the chamber. He offered the blaster belt to her, which Nuri took with a careful and loving grip, pulling the pistol from its sheathe and turning the weapon over in a quick inspection. "I saved your blaster. Thought you might like it back when I found you again, mah cheekah, but you found me, so I guess this is my way of making up fro being such a poodoo father."

Nuri's eyes welled with tears as she set the blaster down on the table and threw her arms around Venec. "You're not poodoo, Father. You stayed alive, and you didn't give up. That's all I need."

The group seated at the table continued to speak with each other for hours, relating their stories and getting to know one another. Like the other parents before them, Venec offered Rayf, Foyi, and Tama a reward of some kind, which was insistently refused. Though the Zabrak man did not make the offer again, he did not give up on showing his appreciation, for when he asked for a detailed account of the trail that had led Foyi from Yanibar and Rayf from Nar Shaddaa all the way to Felucia, his interest peaked at the mention of Point Nadir. He intimated that he had never been there physically, but had heard of the infamous and legendary shadowport, and when he heard that Rayf and Foyi still had access to an entire warehouse filled with spare parts, valuable salvage, and all manner of spice, he offered to help them move their goods, even make some profit from it. Rayf and Foyi considered his offer, and determined that it may be what they needed to make something good of all that had occurred in Point Nadir, for their actions there precluded them from returning anytime in the near future. Venec begged to help them with this, if for no other reason than to do something to better their lives, since they had made his complete once more by returning his daughter to him.

"That could work," Rayf agreed at Foyi's nod. "We could meet at a predetermined place and time after you've found buyers with your contacts for the stuff in that warehouse. But on the condition that you dispose of the spice...we're not spice dealers."

Venec's grin turned wicked. "Of course you're not. You're only fugitives from Imperial law and enemies of multiple crime lords. Wouldn't want to add 'spice dealer' to that list of titles, though that's the only one of those things you can claim that would bag you more creds than you'd know what to do with."

"We don't need the credits," Foyi replied, even as she was subconsciously considering the paltry sum left on her credit chip. "Though some of those materials that were in there would be nice to have. Particularly the refined metals."

"It'll be done," Venec replied after taking a sip of his lomin ale.

"As we said," Foyi pressured.

The Zabrak smiled again. "Exactly." Foyi's intense gaze became a glare as she realized he had purposefully made his response vague, instead of giving an affirmation of his agreement.

Nuri stood long enough to gird her blaster about her waist, and she gave a sigh of contentment as she sat down again to Tama's other side. She patted her father's arm, but her gaze was upon the disgruntled Zeison Sha. "Don't worry, Foyi. I'll keep him in line."

Foyi gave Tama a significant glance, but her younger sister merely shrugged. She had no idea whether the pairing was a good thing or not, but she was willing to put a little faith in her friend. They did not remain long after that, as Rayf and Venec discussed possible rendezvous points and comm channels through which they might contact each other. It was becoming apparent that they were all ready to part and go their separate ways, though none of them had any intention of making the planned rendezvous their only future point of contact. Despite this, when Foyi and Rayf stood from the table with every intention of leaving, Tama had to swallow hard to breathe past the mass of emotion rising in her throat. She looked to Nuri, and stood in order to enfold the Zabrak girl in a fierce hug, holding her tight. Nuri returned it and laid her cheek against Tama's shoulder, whispering, "We'll see each other soon, Tama. My father may be a scoundrel, but he takes care of his friends...and so do I. We'll only be a comm call away, and don't ever hesitate to ask for help. I owe you...everything."

Tama pushed her away enough so that she could hold her friend's gaze with her own. She sniffed hard, then forced a smile. "You don't owe me anything, Nuri. You're my friend, and I'd do it all again. I'll only be a comm call away, too, so don't you hesitate if you need anything."

Nuri smiled despondently as Venec put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "May the Force be with you, Tama."

Tama wiped tears from her eyes. "And you, my friend."