A/N: So for any and all following out there, I have something of a post/12 hours (approximately) philosophy when it comes to stories that are already written (as this one is). Just letting you know what to expect.

Except next week on Thursday I am traveling and between Thursday and Sunday I might have limited internet connection… not sure yet. But OTHERWISE… about 2 posts a day. :-)

Part III

A low hum of machinery was the first thing she noticed as she was slowly dragged back to consciousness. The second was that she was groggy and hungry. The third- as she opened her eyes- was that she had no recollection of where she was or how she got there.

Knowing that her parents would berate her for panicking, Leyla took in as much information as she could from her position- which was lying on a hard bed with safety webbing strapped around her. Once she had enough information, then she could decide whether it was alright to panic.

The constant whirring noise surrounding her suggested that she was in a ship. It sounded like her grandpa's ship, and the room even looked like the Millennium Falcon a little bit; but grandpa had shown her all over his ship and let her play in the sleeping quarters, and this room was certainly not on the Falcon.

She'd also been on several ships with her parents, when they traveled to Ossus to visit mommy's aunt and uncle, or to Csilla to visit daddy's family. But those ships were all the same, stuffy type shuttle that they used at daddy's work, and this didn't look like one of those either.

Before Leyla could decide what to do about her predicament, she heard a thud of boots on the metal decking outside the room, and a moment later, the door began to hiss and slide open. Her first instinct was to hide, but her little fingers got tangled in the safety restraint around her chest. Stuck in place, she haltingly raised her gaze to the newcomer- and her eyes widened in fear.

It was a woman in a long, black robe. She was taller than mommy, Leyla thought, and her long blonde hair ran down almost to her waist. Her dark, heavy eyes were what scared Leyla though, and the cold feeling she got in the pit of her stomach. Squeezing her own soft, brown eyes shut, Leyla tried to push herself back into the corner as far as possible.

The woman spoke, and the surprise at the kindness of her voice startled Leyla enough to stop her struggling. "Hello, little one," the dark woman smiled warmly, and it was a complete contradiction from her aura in the Force. "Can I call you Leyla?"

She just stared blankly at the woman.

"Are you hungry?" the woman continued, unfazed. "It will still be a few days before we reach our destination, and you'll want to keep your strength up after that nasty hit on the head."

Wait- what? Something of her confusion must have shown on her face, and Leyla thought in chagrin about what her grandpa Han had told her about keeping a 'sabaac face.'

"Don't you remember?" the woman adopted a worried tone. "Some bad people came to take you away from your parents." Vague memories of a firefight in her apartment started to filter in. "Your mother sent you with me to keep you safe, in case they came back again."

"I don't know you." Her tone was stubborn and firm.

The woman smiled, a sickeningly sweet look that was completely insincere. "Of course not; if everyone knew that I was your mother's friend, the bad people might come looking for me to get at you. But don't you worry- I can keep you safe and a friend of mine is going to start training you in the Force."

Something in Leyla's eyes flickered. "Mommy says I have to be older before I can go to the academy and learn to be a Jedi."

"Yes, dear, but that was before people wanted to steal you from your parents; now, you need to learn to protect yourself."

Leyla said nothing, well aware of the fact that she was being deceived in some way. But for now, there was little she could do about that.

Not bothered by her lack of response, the woman leaned over and unbuckled the restraints with sharp-nailed fingers. "I'll send something for you to eat, Leyla," she leaned down to meet her at eye level. "Once you're feeling better, we can talk more. Oh," she turned as she was almost out the door, "my name is Xela. Call for me if you need anything."

Leyla watched her go and then slumped back against the uncomfortable cot, willing herself not to cry.

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Hiyan Pletrsky slipped through the door to his apartment, exhausted from a day of battling Galactic Alliance Security types who were continually digging through his data files, looking for any sort of a clue as to who had snatched the young daughter of Jagged Fel, diplomatic liaison to the Chiss, in the middle of the prior night.

As head of the embassy's cyber-security, he had been among the first interrogated by the GAS intelligence heavy hands who accompanied the computer and forensics experts. For an hour, he'd sat under harsh lights and repeated the same things several times- first, that his authorization code had been forged and no, he did not know by whom; second, that there had been no sign of a breach in system security in recent months; and third, that the Imperial codes used to gain entry into the system would not have passed screening even at the Imperial Embassy and, therefore, he did not see how they could be considered complicit in the crime.

Sighing and dropping his briefcase on a counter, Hiyan headed wearily for the comfortable chair in his living room… and stopped dead, seeing someone already sitting in it. Before he could say or do anything, the door separating the living room from the front hall slid shut, and Hiyan turned on the spot, confused and alarmed.

He was more alarmed to notice the lightsaber the man was twirling between his long fingers. "Who are you?" he asked, inwardly wincing at the high-pitched fear in his voice.

Not responding, the man stood suddenly, came forward, and performed a fast search for any hidden weapons or comlinks. Finding none, he seemed satisfied and gestured towards the chair. "Sit." Hiyan did, shaking slightly. "You are Hiyan Pletrsky?"

"I am," he said slowly, wondering if he was signing his own death sentence in admitting it- not that it would take the man long to know the truth one way or another, he supposed.

"Relax," the man took a seat on a sofa against the opposite wall. "I'm not here to harm you. I just require some… information. About last night's affair…"

Slightly reassured by the promise of not being harmed, Hiyan squeaked in annoyance. "I've just spent hours with GA security on the matter and told them everything I know…"

"Wrong," the man interrupted smoothly. "You told them everything they asked. I have some different questions, if you'll oblige me."

"Do I have a choice?" Hiyan muttered. "I thought you Jedi were above cloak and dagger intimidation."

A low chuckle startled him. "Let's just say that I have several philosophical differences with the rest of the Jedi. Hiyan, my name is Kyp Durron." Any remaining color drained from his face. "I take it you've heard of me?"

"I'd have had to been living in a cave on Dantooine for the past twenty-five years to not have heard of you," he snapped.

"Excellent," Durron seemed unfazed by his tone. "Then you know that I mean business. This will be very simple- I know you had nothing to do with the planning of the kidnapping last night," Hiyan let out an involuntary sigh of relief, "but you've been working with Imperial security and intelligence long enough that you might be some use to me. I'm going to run some names and code names by you; if you've heard them, in any context, you're going to tell me about them. Understood?"

Hiyan nodded weakly, frozen to the chair.

Durron pulled a datapad and thumbed the controls a few times, searching for the proper screen. "Ah- first: Grawdin Yortevin." He shook his head. "Trint Poqat."

Hiyan started to shake his head and then paused. "Maybe… there was a Poqat years ago, he was in charge of an elite training force under the Emperor's personal command."

"What happened to him?"

Hiyan shrugged. "He disappeared after the Battle of Endor, most figure he was on board when the Death Star blew."

"Lorsi Klimpo." Another shake of the head. "Xela." Nothing. "Red Fist."

Hiyan hesitated, and Durron's brows rose, waiting. "I… I'm not sure. There were rumors of a secret organization called Red Hand that sprang up after the Emperor's death; possibly a reference to his guards, maybe to blood, I don't know."

"Who were they? According to rumor."

"Loyalists, they wanted to revert the remnants back into a true Empire, but they needed someone worthy of the title of Emperor to achieve it."

Durron frowned heavily. "Someone worthy? Another Sith?"

"I don't know. Like I said, they were rumors and it was a long time ago. There was a Moff with a supposed involvement called Morgny, but he died… probably fifteen years ago by now. Assassinated, in his sleep."

"Suspects?"

"You'd have to pull the files, I was only vaguely aware of the incident at the time."

Looking mildly frustrated, Durron keyed something into his datapad before turning back to him. "Morgny- where was he murdered?"

Hiyan searched his memory. "It was in his palace… his governate was in the Atrivis Sector, I believe, though I do not recall which planet he used as his capital."

For a long moment, the two men sat across the room, one still and petrified, the other grim and pensive. Finally, Durron stood and paced a few times before turning sharply to Hiyan. "Can you think of anything else about Poqat or Red Hand that you've neglected to tell me?" Hiyan shook his head. "Very well- if you don't struggle, this won't hurt…"

"Wha- oh!" Hiyan slumped backwards in his chair, knocked unconscious by a blast of the Force. The cloaked Jedi leaned over his prone form, pressing his fingers to his temples and erasing all knowledge and memory of having encountered Kyp Durron at all that evening. He'd wake in a few hours, surprised at how exhausted he had been to simply fall asleep as soon as he sat down.

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Jag drew his arms around Jaina as they sat wearily in her parents' apartment. Han and Leia had spent much of the day prior moving anything of need or value from Jag and Jaina's ruined apartment, once GA Security had finished their sweep- and, predictably, turned up little of any use. Now, he sat grimly facing his in-laws- Han, Leia, and Jacen, and even Luke and Mara Skywalker were present via holofeed.

"Are you absolutely positive that your transmission feed is secure?" Jag asked Han and Mara, who had set up the link. They nodded, too solemn to be annoyed as his questioning of their abilities in discretion. "I have to tell you now what Kyp told me, and then we can't talk to or about him again until this is over."

Luke looked thoughtful, glancing at Jaina. "I had wondered where he was during all of this." By the looks exchanged between Han, Leia, and Jacen, so had they.

"Yes," Jag acknowledged. "Kyp sensed a problem and came for Leyla; he arrived minutes after me, too late to do anything. He told me to get together any pertinent information about the ploy at the embassy and meet him- which I did, yesterday afternoon. Then he left- taking the one surviving commando with him."

A murmur of surprise rippled around the room. "Sneaky," Mara said approvingly. "Did he learn anything useful?"

Here, Jag hesitated, knowing that this was where some of them would be angry. "He wouldn't tell me anything. I gave him his information, and he said that he was going to follow up on what leads he had from the commando, cross-referenced with my data chip. He indicated that the rest of us should continue on as we would anyway, and for all intents and purposes, Kyp is just another Jedi."

"And just what does he plan on doing with this information he won't give the rest of us?" Han asked sharply.

"I don't know," he admitted. "But he seems to think that it will require a certain amount of distancing himself from the Jedi order, maybe because of this dark Jedi woman. I think he intends to approach this from a… different angle, while whoever has Leyla is busy focusing on what the rest of us are doing. And Kyp doesn't want them to even suspect that any of their attackers survived."

Mara was grudgingly approving. "It's a smart strategy. Kyp's a dangerous man when he wants to be, and the only thing worse than a surprise is a dangerous, personal one."

"That's what Kyp seemed to think," Jag agreed. "So he asks that any of you who know the truth of Kyp's relationship with Leyla and with us ignore it. Whatever happens, just react as though he's another loose-cannon Jedi."

Luke looked mildly amused. "Shouldn't be too hard." He sighed and looked around at his family. "So where does that leave us? Surely we have somewhere to start?"

"We don't have much," Jaina said, defeated. "Just some old Imperial transponder codes, a wild-goose chase of a security code slicing, and an unknown dark Jedi woman."

"Okay," Luke said slowly. "I'll start seeing if there's anything to be found about the woman; she's certainly not one of the academy's former students, but she could be the student of someone who came through here, or an old apprentice of Brakiss even… "

Jag's voice was soft as he squeezed Jaina's hand in his. "Thank you, Luke."

"In the meantime," Han broke in, "Leia and I will see if we can get anywhere with those old codes. And who knows? Maybe we'll find ourselves paying a visit to our old friend Pellaeon."

Jaina smiled a watery thanks to her family but said nothing, desperately hoping that whatever lead Kyp was following on his own was more promising than what her family and friends had unearthed in the past two days.

End Part III