Chapter 9: A Good Day's Work

When a normal person sleeps without dreams, they do not remember the happenings of the night. To them, it is as if no time has passed while they were oblivious to the outside world. With Force-Sensitives – who I am a part of – things are trickier. In essence, those of us with the gift of Farsight rarely have a night without dreams. Others less attuned to intricacies of the Force often have vague sensations, replays of memories or just peaceful dreams of gardens and woods. Oftentimes alert Force users remember the world in muted form while at rest. If they put enough effort into trying, they can recollect sounds, smells, Force presences and even some visual content.

With me, my nights – ahem dreams – were full of memory transfers. Sometimes I would peak into the minds of younglings or young Padawans in order to relive their classes, at others I would absorb knowledge from the Shan Holocron or even Master Gallia. The tricky situation was that 'Force' and 'Easy' should never be used on the same page unless as contradictions. I could not transfer just the knowledge that I needed; no I got the full .zip file so to speak. I would experience fights, arguments, censures, bad smells and even back itches. It was a tossup between knowledge and extra experiences which were not often pleasant.

You might think that I had it easy; after all, what could be cooler than ending up in one's fandom and learning how to move boxes with one's thoughts? Nothing I'll bet, not at least to you, sitting there nicely in your comfy quarters, with no inkling of what real life is like here. I had to awaken at the crack of dawn, fall asleep at something far too close to midnight for comfort, train until my limbs felt like they were about to fall off, and learn and learn and learn! Anything from astrocartography to mechanics to flight simulation to Force manipulation and other languages and histories! It was such a drag. Not only was it physically taxing, but mentally as well.

The human mind was only designed with one lifetime in mind, not several, especially not from several people and several species. The hardest memory transfers were from say the Togruta which I sometimes underwent to get the extra perceptions from their passive echolocation or the Wookiees to obtain knowledge of Shyriiwook. My point is that even with my precautions, I needed to rest my mind on occasion, not have it bombarded by someone's life.

This was such an occasion, and I was contentedly enjoying the bliss of actual, plain sleep, when a disturbance arose. The blackness in my inner eye began to fade into a stone cavern with suspended walkways crisscrossing the chasm while surrounded by greenery. I recognised this mindscape as one of Qui Gon Jinn's favourite haunts, it appealed to his love of nature and pathetic life forms. Speaking of whom, there was the man himself, hair dishevelled and tunics haphazardly belted. How he could appear so in a vision was beyond me, it wasn't as if he actually ran anywhere.

"Did…" he panted once he got into hearing range of me, "Did you see the latest Clone Wars?" My first that was that of WTH, quickly followed by the realisation that he could read and watch materials from Earth. A feeling of grumpiness came swiftly on the heels of that thought, of course I could not have seen that episode, I was here not there. I told the man as much, leaving him slightly put off. "Yes, I've forgotten about that…. They've just aired the finale for Season Five. You must watch it!"

"Master Qui-Gon, the HoloNet is not exactly airing CN programs… I have no way to watch…" I reaffirmed my previous statement, though I was rather intrigued as to what could ruffle Master Jinn of all people. Surely they didn't just go and kill off his Padawan again, or have another Force-sensitive planet show up?

With an impatient wave of his hand he summoned an illusion of a fifty inch flat screen TV which flickered to life and shone the yellow logo before me. The audio cut in just as the amoral moral faded into view, reading "Sometimes even the smallest doubt can shake the greatest belief."

It was the hallmark of the show to insert the most ridiculous of quotes, quotes that very rarely had any bearing on the episode, and this one was no different. In this instalment, the Temple got bombed – I'd have to stay clear of that hangar – the show ripped off CSI and the bad-guy was caught rather easily. I looked at Master Qui-Gon – it may interest you to know that I began to respect him a little more after a few other encounters – and was about to ask him what he meant by this; there was no profound knowledge or wisdom imparted, but he just shook his head, waved his hand, and set the television to fast-forward through the credits and the opening reel.

I should say that this, next, episode was much more interesting, especially the chase. Star Wars was always action for me, not romance, not emotions, but action. This had lots of it, and it was impressive. I for one did not know that you could block this type of stun blasts with a lightsaber, I thought that you had to avoid them physically. But no, now I know if I ever need this information.

Tarkin was a vile wretch, Letta Turmond was annoying, I felt rather sorry for Ahsoka, and Anakin struck me as far too close to Revenge of the Sith for comfort. Funny too, how no-one seemed to consider that Ahsoka never once fought back against the clones, not even a Force-shove. Pity that she lost her shoto, and that Anakin was so … I don't even know how to put it… It was good that Ahsoka didn't come with him, because it would take just one suggestion from Palpatine, and Ahsoka would be back in prison, and thus speedily assassinated.

The third episode showed me just how weak the Jedi were. Plo Koon, the very man – Kel Dor – who found Ahsoka, who knew her perhaps better than anyone save Anakin, began believing in her guilt after finding her slumped in a room with crates of nanodroids. Never mind her lightsaber-less state, her beat-up condition, the hole in the ceiling, as well as the obvious signs of a lightsaber battle the floor above. It felt to me like they were looking, but pretending not to, for a scapegoat onto whom to pile the responsibility from the beginning of the war all the way to their forthcoming demise. It sickened me.

I was about to tell Qui-Gon that I got the message and was about to depart in a huff when he shushed me once more and skipped to the next episode. Being titled 'The Wrong Jedi' it was rather obvious as to what would transpire; Ahsoka would be proven guiltless, the only tossup being as to whether that would happen before her execution. I already had a culprit in mind as I began to watch the episode; it was just a matter of following the evidence.

My insight served me well as Barriss Offee was indeed this week's villain, though the writers sure did do a better job with it that what I would have expected. Anakin did a fine job provoking her into a fight; but her confession before the court was just too contrived. She could have just shouted, "I'm being framed! It's Ahsoka!" and the truly horrifying part was that they would have believed her.

No wonder public opinion was swinging against the Jedi; mine was plummeting. How could they expel her for funding! For funding! I know they are Jedi, but instead of throwing one of their own to the wolves, could they not have robbed a bank? …Or a Hutt, like I did? Her departure was emotional, the first in for me in the series, but I could not help thinking that it served them right. Still, I was not the only shadowy character that was out there, manipulating and plotting. I could make this suit my ends, oh I could….

I turned to Master Qui-Gon with a genuine question, "Master, are you sure this is valid; the Jedi can be ruthless at times, but this seems beyond this day and age? And do you have any particulars for me?" I mean, he could have showed me this as a dream, he did not have to come in person for this….

"Take the girl as your Padawan Learner. Don't let Yoda give her to Skywalker. Unless he changes his attitude – and I frankly do not see that happening any time soon – their team will never truly work."

Of all the harebrained ideas born in that man's head, this one sure takes the cake, big time! "Master Qui-Gon?" I managed to maintain a civil air, but by incredulity poured forth in torrents, "I am a PA-DA-WAN! At best guess I'll make Knight by seventeen before Yavin, I can understand you asking your Padawan taking on an apprentice, he killed a Sith; but I have NOT! By war's start I will have barely had a solo mission, I cannot be expected to be responsible for a student!" as my agitation began to mount, I forced myself to calm down and take an emotional step back, "Look, I have a plan in the works, I can take her in after she leaves the Temple, make her my CO or something, but I'll need you to do something for me, okay?"

My interlocutor raised an inquisitive eyebrow, which I somehow saw, and nodded as if to say, "Go On…" probably expecting me to say something ridiculous, oh like, I don't know, asking him to reveal the secret behind defeating Master Yoda in a duel. Nope, my request was just as outrageous, but still doable. "Master Qui-Gon, I will need you to guide the Outbound Flight to a safe haven inside the Unknown regions, preferably Zonama Sekot…."

When I awoke the next morning, I did so rested and with a lighter heart; those people were safe. Not so a certain Jedi Master, today was the day for Operation: Jomark. Actually, I've lied to you, today was the day for many things, and I would probably spend a good part of it rushing hither and thither, doing this and that.

First thing's first, I used the Force to toss my thermal blanket off my bed …or tried to anyway. In so doing I had it fall on my legs, tangling up and generally being a nuisance. Formless or extremely flexible objects such as clothing or water take a lot more skill in telekinesis to accurately manipulate, skill which I did not quite have. Resigning to the old-fashion way of getting out of bed, I disentangled myself, stretched, gave the obligatory yawn and threw myself into my morning ritual.

I was out as usual, hair dripping, and the sad excuse for a beard gone as the sun crested the horizon and shone through the windows. I adopted this particular habit shortly after my apprenticeship began. After a particularly restless night I ventured out into the living room and saw the sun's rays illuminate the apartment in a most spectacular display. From that moment on I understood Master Qui-Gon's fascinations with Coruscanti sunrises and sunsets.

Master Adi joined me shortly and after a solemn vigil until the sun cleared the tallest spacescraper in our line of sight we turned away to a slightly more hurried than usual breakfast. During the meal we went over the plan; I would disguise myself and head into the undercity to hire the services of a Clawdite, Master Adi would enlist the aid of her former apprentice, we would deal with Master C'Baoth and then he would find himself in a nice estate on Jomark, ironic I think, considering how his clone chose to take up that residence.

I was on my way to the Archives when chance caused me to meet Aeren. He looked rather fresh, but really bored with everything, and he looked rather green. His greeting nearly made me choke on my laughter for it consisted of a most peculiar dialect, "Good morning Nik. Time long, see no, hmm? Doing how are you?"

At first I thought he was being dramatic, but after a snort on my part his Force signature darkened in embarrassment. I chose to insert some levity, laughing never hurt no body – not yet anyway. "So, I see Master Yaddle was not the ideal instructor for you, least not language wise…"

"Right you have that, mate. It is hard to speak normally. Revert I do to her speech patterns. I don't want to know what happen will if spend more time with her I do…" I chuckled again and clapped him on a shoulder, casually inviting him to follow me. Our conversation was rather amusing, seeing as he would say one sentence in proper Basic and the next in Yoda-Speak. We talked of many things, of my adventure, of training, of our Masters, of everything pretty much.

Apparently his training was not progressing as well as mine; his master trying to impart the particulars of Jedi philosophy and the Code while mine took the more direct approach. He at one point confided in me that he hadn't even activated his lightsaber, not even once. I felt sorry for him, but there was nothing I could do. Master Yaddle was a kind but stern Master who expected obedience, in fact, Aeren was at this very moment on his way to the comm centre with a message cube that needed a relay.

We parted ways as he went off on his errand and I walked down the aisle of the Lost Twenty to a computer terminal and imputed a planetary request. Our plan, my Master's and mine, was to drop Jorus C'Baoth on one of the uninhabited islands, it was exile, unlawful exile, but at least it was better than what he would get if he stayed with his pet project.

It was here that Obi-Wan Kenobi found me three hours later. With a briskness that was characteristic of him when he was in a serious mood he ordered me to "Please come with me, Padawan," adding that, "We need to talk…" I had no wish to start a scene, and I wanted to end up in his good graces, so I saved the star chart I was perusing and vacated the terminal.

He led me down some tributary corridors that took us to an out-of-the-way conversation garden wherein he ceiled the door and reaffirmed his statement that we needed to talk. "Please continue, Master Kenobi," I invited with more confidence than I felt, what could he want?

"I have given great thought to your words, Nik, and I am inclined to agree with several of your statements …but not all. You have stated that I possess too much guilt to adequately perform as a Jedi. I will not cover this with rhetoric, that was out … of … line."

Now I began to feel guilty, but as luck would have it though, my brain was preoccupied, so my tongue ran rampant without check. "What was I supposed to do?" Despite that, I was composed, my experience at school had given me an almost Jedi-like composure, at least outwardly, so Master Adi did not have to work on that. "I have a stressful day, after which I then find myself out of my element, literally speaking, and in a world which I read as fictitious. Terrible things will happen in the future, it is in motion as Master Yoda often says, but a hand is manipulating events to suit its vile purposes. Chaos will soon descend upon the galaxy, and the Dark Side shall unfurl its banner. I was unsettled to be tossed to the Tu'kata in this time. For if what I saw before me was real, than so was everything else. I have seen terrible things… terrible things… Orders fallen… families torn asunder… planets destroyed in one fell swoop… I would have preferred to live my life here in peace, on a quiet farm on Dantooine, not burdened with the duty to serve the galaxy. But the Force apparently has a grudge against me, I found myself in a position which forced my hand, which put my foot in it. I was set a mission, I would leave the Galaxy-saving to the real heroes, but I would have to work from behind the scenes. I would have to place those heroes in the optimal positions to do their jobs…."

Obi-Wan emanated sadness as I trailed off. I guess he could understand the intricacies of unbearable burdens. "Something happens in the future," he stated more than asked, albeit gently, "Something with me and Anakin in the middle of it. Something which I was not able to deal with adequately from a bystander's perspective…"

I nodded in ascent, "You stuck to the Code, to rigidity when you should have taken the unconventional route, and in the end, it caused you pain. Do not change who you are; you are a noble, selfless, and dutiful Jedi, you will be regarded as of the most renowned Masters of the Council for your wisdom and dedication. Do not let that be tarnished, but to not seek to brush away every speck of dust on your tunics. Be gentler with Anakin, a time will come when you will be like brothers, but he will still resent firm control. He needs to be understood, not lectured, from one perspective, the Jedi are right; emotions are bad, but not with everyone. Moderation is the key, and you will master it one day. Trust yourself more, that's all I ask, trust yourself more…."

We sat there for an indeterminate amount of time until the silence was broken by the chime of my comlink, "Nik November-niner actual, go ahead…" It was a carryover from audio dramas which I wrote back in the day, I liked the military comm chatter style, and would often annoy people to no end with 'wilco' other obscure terminology. Master Adi did not mind,

"Nik, it's Adi, I've got the third party secured, stage two is a go—" before I could acknowledge the channel went dead. Well, I guess it was time for me to do something productive. Excusing myself I walked out of the garden, checked that no one was looking, and pulled forth a datapad with the Temple's floor plan. Whatever Force skills I had learned, they did nothing to aid in my navigation of this perpetual maze.

Donning a black robe and gloves set aside for me by Master Adi in a predetermined location, I used one of the secret side doors to exit the premises and make my way to one of the numerous portals into the underworld. A large freight hovertruck was my rather scary way to level twenty-sixty-eight where I had discovered, lurked a Clawdite by the name of Ephash, some relation or another to Zam Wessel.

Finding an empty booth in the Basaliskan Barrel, a squat establishment quite suited to its name, I waited for Bounty Hunter to show up. Speaking of whom, there he was, in his full ugly glory.

"I hear you are looking for a changeling? We cost a lot, Director, how much are you willing to pay?" What a slimy fellow! Now let's get things sorted, 'Director' was my alias which I came up with on the spot, cheap, cheesy, but effective and efficient. Now for the scary Sith act, I just loved impersonating Palpatine when I had the chance.

"Credits are of no concern for me. I just need results. My clients want there to be a change in the crew roster for Outbound Flight… Your task is to assume the form of Jorus C'Baoth and put Lorana Jinzler in command of the mission until Yaga Minor, where you will disembark and forget all about this little adventure…." I inserted a dark chuckle at the end, and flashed an evil grin rather that he caught it from beneath my deep cowl.

"Impersonating a Jedi! No, I am not taking that job!" All was transpiring as I had predicted, the job I was offering was risky, and getting involved with Jedi was usually a baaad idea. Fortunately I had a few things literally up my sleeve.

"And how would two hundred thousand credits change your mind? Especially if I added a million more after completion? Does that sound acceptable?" Of course it did, in fact it was outrageous, but greed motivates….

"Tell me more…" the rather slimy character asked, leaning forward in eagerness, with the amount of money I was offering he could retire easily.

I cackled in delight and evil triumph, this underworld boss thing was beginning to suit me more and more, "You will have a comlink on you at all times through which your handler will contact you. You are to follow their every instruction to … the … letter. Any deviation will result in your immediate disclosure to the Jedi. Any attempt to profit beyond this contract will result in your speedy termination. And I am sure you would not want the Black Sun to know about that…."

Needless to say, he mulled over my offer and then accepted it. It was the best he was going to get, and whatever he was antsy about concerning Black Sun persuaded him to cooperate. After a nod of ascent on his part I chuckled evilly, handed him his mission details and the two hundred that I stole from Thorgo and departed after making sure that the coming beacon I planted on him with the Force was secure and active.

"Director to Executive Producer, stage two – green across the board, first take. Going back to the studio…" I whispered into my comlink on my way out, looking all mysterious like….

The sun was half done setting when I returned to our apartments. Dinner was ready and Master Adi was emanating a sense of accomplishment, "How was it being a criminal?" she asked me lightly as she dusted a bookshelf.

"Oh, splendid! I believe I scared the banthas out of him, I didn't know he was in that much trouble with Black Sun. I should really do this more often!" I chuckled some more as I hung my cloak over by the door. In all honesty, I had no idea whether he was at all connected with any crime syndicate, but lowlifes low on the food chain are easy to manipulate. It is a wonder what a mind can conjure if allowed to roam freely, just give it a starting boost and it will join the dots all on its own and create a problem where none exists.

"That's good, because I've just gotten Siri to go aboard the Flight as the handler for your man. Everything is going according to plan…" she finished her cleaning and waved over a tray from the oven, piled with tonight's steaming dinner.

Between mouthfuls of delicious dinner I contemplated the morality of our actions, second-guessed myself more than once, worried over the plan, possible ramifications and the cause of Tatooine's orbital bombardment by the Rakata, basically doing what I accused Obi-Wan of. Funny how your words come back to nip you in the backside, uh?

"Hyes, I did…" Master Adi chuckled in response to another of my worry-induced questions, "I accomplished stage three. Master C'Baoth took his tea this afternoon. His Force-sense will be dulled until morning. Stop worrying, it never helps! 'Keep your mind on the present moment, where it belongs.' Qui-Gon was a wise man…."

Feeling rather in need of a topic change I asked my Master a question, something that had been nagging at me for a good deal of time. "Master, remember when I had a shouting match with Master Qui-Gon?" she replied with an affirmative ahuh so I continued, "Well, he told me that day that Obi-Wan was his kid …is that in any way true?"

Adi Gallia burst into hearty laughter. It took her a good five minutes to quieten down and use to Force to dislodge a piece of dinner she nearly choked on. "Obi-Wan Jinn? You've got much to learn my very young Padawan learner!" I stared at her uncomprehending, until it clicked, but I still wanted her to say it. "That was as much a load of rubbish as when he told Obi-Wan that Dooku was his uncle! That man comes up with the most ridiculous of statements and inappropriate practical jokes! Like when he said the Force was because of midi-whatsies!"

I could not help but to join in, I always found Qui-Gon's explanation of the Force to be ludicrous. And the image of the regal Count Dooku being Obi-Wan's uncle just made me burst out laughing even more. I could understand Qui-Gon's statement from a certain point of view, but it was a nasty trick to play on unsuspecting, poor, me.

At roughly twenty-three hundred hours I finished with my preparatory catnap, pulled a towel over my nose and mouth, donned my previous attire in the form of a cowled cloak, gloves and boots – all in the same black – and clipped a flash-bang on my belt. I was just about to leave the apartment when Master Adi stopped me. "You should take this…" she said, proffering her lightsaber.

I was rather surprised, I had my own weapon, though I dearly hoped I would not need to use it. In any sort of duel with anyone who knew what they were doing – and Jorus C'Baoth certainly did – I was, let's face it, dead. "Why?" I inquired, why was she giving me hers?

"This hilt has a red crystal. I stopped using it when the Sith resurfaced, but never threw it away." I guess my EU knowledge slipped on that occasion, it was a brilliant idea, and I should have thought about it myself. Master Adi raised her hand in a Jedi salute and with the words, "May the Force be with you, Padawan…" she waved open the door, and stage four of Operation: Jomark was a go.

It was humanly – and dare I say it, Yodaly – impossible to memorise the Temple's entire network of hidden passages, maintenance closets and ducks, laundry chutes, ventilation tunnels and all manner of under-the-hood byways. One could, if they devoted enough time to it, commit to memory the layout of the main floors, hangars, accommodation sectors and gardens, in fact many Jedi did so over their lives, but even the Grand Master did not know every nook and cranny that there was. I was certainly no exception. As embarrassing as it might sound to those of you who believe that a suddenly Force-sensitive earthling is omnipotent and omniscient, I was using the Shan Holocron to navigate the twisting network while enduring the Gatekeeper's endless wit – all at my expense of course.

Upon reaching my destination, a corridor down which C'Baoth's quarters were located, I used my rather floppy knowledge to sense out any Force Signatures nearby. Seeing as how this was the Temple, they had no reason to hide their presences, but just in case I endured more of the Gatekeeper's taunting for the sake of her doing a check. All being clear I popped the floor tile with the Force, put it back in place, inconspicuously dialled down the hallway lights, and stalked towards the proper door. Double, triple, and quadruple checking that this was the proper door; I did not want there to be a case of mistaken identity, I ripped off the lock plate, crossed two wires and voila! It unlocked!

Being a rather strange fella, Jorus C'Baoth's apartment was unlike most Knight accommodations in that it had only one sleeping chamber; apparently his apprentice, Jinzler, slept elsewhere. That was fortunate, as I had forgotten to account for her presence, if she had been in here, my plan would have went down the pipelines, and fast. Upon verifying that I could open the door from the inside, I let it slide shut behind me, made sure my disguise was all set, and used a Force-Push to bend the bedroom door in on its hinges.

Like any self-respecting warrior, Jorus was up, lightsaber in hand, and scanning the room for intruders. The only problem was that thanks to Master Gallia's tea party, the old man stumbled, fumbled, and nearly fell over a few times. Feeling evil, I chose to add insult to possible injury by clapping mockingly and rasping out in what I hoped was a suitably Sith voice, "So this is the great Jedi Master, C'Baoth. If that's what the Jedi are made of, I have nothing to fear…. ha-ha-ha-ha!"

He wasn't all that happy, drawing himself up to his full height and activating his blade, though it shook in his hand. "Who dares intrude into my sanctum? Who dares to speak so of the mighty Jedi Order?"

"Mighty? Old man, your hands are shaking, you are no match for me!" I chuckled projecting full confidence, though I was secretly relieved, "…But if you must call me something, you can address me as … Geekeuis, Darth Geekeuis, but off course you will address me as Lord. Got that?"

C'Baoth was in utter outrage, his mouth opened and closed, his lightsaber shook – though I suspected it had more to do with the sedative more than rage. He spluttered something incoherent and charged at me in something not even resembling a lightsaber form. His first attack I stepped aside, having him nearly fall onto the floor. His second I blocked in the nick of time by activating the red lightsaber previously concealed in my sleeve.

In his moment of wide-eyed shock I struck, it was Djem So in its pure, Forceless form. My swing battered his blade aside as if it were a straw held by a mannequin. He tried to repost but I blocked the poor excuse at a slash, twisted my wrist just so, and saw his blade extinguish and the hilt clatter to the floor.

With my blade's crimson tip less than an inch from his chin he began to backpedal, then mustered a Force-push that sent me skidding into the dresser and hitting by elbow on an edge. I swore, a word you youngsters should not know, and thought of removing an appendage just in case, but then I chased that thought away. That was what I called the Dark Side, needless anger, if you could do something without it, don't use it.

I practiced a telekinetic blast of my own that sent the old man thumbing into the opposite wall, though not hard enough to knock him out. I sighed theatrically and walked over to him. I would have to do this the old fashioned way. A little bit of gloating and my saber's pommel connected with his temple, dropping him into unconsciousness. I was almost done.

Another scan of the apartment's surroundings led me to believe that the coast was clear, and hoisting the man under his armpits I dragged him outside. Beep it he was heavy, really heavy. I got tired two meters outside the door. I would never reach my original entrance point. Then I heard a dreaded sound, footsteps echoing down a nearby passage.

Feeling rather panicked I did a stupid thing by levitating the entrance tile and giving C'Baoth a Force shove that had him reach the hole and tumble in. I sincerely hope he did not break anything, even if he is a jerk.

I had just enough time to put the cover back in place when a Jedi Knight or Master – didn't catch who exactly it was – saw me. I don't know what he saw in me, but he immediately demanded that I stand down. Maybe tinkering with a lock panel had something to do with his reaction? I had to improvise, and fast.

Fortunately I at times was probably the third most reckless Jedi in the GFFA – make that the Galaxy close, close by – and had no problem smashing the door of its hinges. The Knight of course raced to me, but I was already in the apartment, slashing everything in my sight, especially the bed. I could not let evidence remain that it was slept in.

By the time I had done a number on the room, and collected the fallen lightsaber, two Temple Guards had joined my original pursuer, which was far too fast for any reasonable response time. Taking a leaf from Anakin's book, I sliced an x into the wall and blew it open with another Force Push. By now other residents began converging on the scene of chaos, and I was in deep faecal matter. Really deep faecal matter….

I was a good sprinter, it would take only four seconds to reach the intersection, and by extension, safety. The crimp in my plan was Force Speed, a technique which I did not know, but one that most of the people here probably did. Then I remembered a deleted scene from RotS and a lesson Master Adi taught me just before I set out on my mission.

Arming the flash-bang with one hand I charged out into the corridor, only in the wrong direction from my safe exit vector. A graceful pivot had me turning away from the source of the flash and beginning to cut a hole in the floor with my red blade. In the few seconds of blindness in which even Jedi were confused, I used C'Baoth's lightsaber to aid in cutting a hole in the floor and running away, this time in the proper direction.

When the merry party could see again, they were met with a hole in the floor, a possible bolthole. Unsurprisingly, half of them jumped down it. Equally as expected, the other half looked in my direction and ran toward me. I turned to face them, in so doing covering the tile I was lifting with the Force from their view.

Knowing freedom was seconds away I threw them a jaunty salute, yelled "So long Jedi!" and released a Force-Flash. They were more prepared, but still, it delayed them for a few seconds. That was all the time I needed to slip into the hidden passage and set the tile back in its place. I sat there for a few minutes getting my breath back, when I judged myself as clear, I resumed my arduous task of dragging the limp body back to an area close to our quarters. "Master, stage four is accomplished…" I reported over my comlink, "Stage five is a go…."

So, I sit one day and think, and I have come to the realistic conclusion that I will not be able to post all of the stories I have plots for on this web site. Real life is well, real life, and I cannot dwell in cyberspace indefinitely. In realising this, have begun to combine various plot points into other stories. For instance, Nik was not supposed to have been able to get material from Earth.

Don't worry, I am still writing here, in fact it might interest some of you to know that I am beginning to write the sequel for Skyfighter: The Ones.

Anyways, this is it for know, May the Fiction Be With You!Clean word count: 5,830 | Updated 3.09.13