Skavak fell in beside Corso. The jackhammer report of the assault cannon followed them to the lift. Pleading screams and shattering glass disintegrated into silence and the occasional sputter of dying electronics. They lost sight of Rusk as the lift took them to the next level.

Rusk was a zealot where the Republic was concerned and hated Scourge to his core, but he was also pragmatic and unemotional with a selective conscience. The mission always came first. He didn't question, he didn't balk, and he was a damned fine demolitions expert.

The Chagrian stepped off the lift and depressed the detonator, the floor bucked, and Rusk's silhouette was lost in the dust that erupted from the lift shaft. He jogged to catch up with the others and gave Scourge a curt nod. T7 had joined them. The Sith pressed the entry-level button, and as soon as they stepped off the lift, the earth trembled.

"The Soledad isn't too far away," said Seph. "A ride to the Segomo might be nice."

Scourge's eyes squinted against the glare filling the exit door. "And prudent since Rusk has damaged the cooling conduits to the bunker's reactor core, and once it overheats, this entire complex will be a smoking crater."

In minutes, the Soledad had made its own clearing by the Segomo and settled onto the ground. Ky had been transferred from the stretcher to a medical bed, Scourge still held the boy and prepared to debark to his own ship. "Doc stays here with Ky and her crew. The rest with me."

Defiance and suspicion rolled off Skavak who stood by the door of the medbay with crossed arms. "I'm going to stay with Ky."

Scourge pinned the man with a gaze that brooked no argument. "You will come with me. Do not let the child in my arms fool you."

"You can't keep me from her forever."

"No. But now is not the time."

Corso's urge to punch Skavak or shoot him and kick his corpse where it dropped congealed into a hefty pocketful of wishful thinking. His fingers itched to dig in and lighten the load. "Destination?" he snarled.

"We are taking the boy to Tython. You will take Ky to Coruscant. Physically it may be her only chance if she survives the trip."

Two vessels lifted into the falling night, rose beyond the curvature of the forest moon, hovered above the weak gravity well and waited. A drop of fire splashed on the surface, a dribble of yellow in an expanding palette of flame, scorching trees and sentients, bugs and worms in a circle of cinders and ash.

The Segomo – Day 1 of 15

Kira and Sayonar grimaced under the deluge that surged through the force. Scourge weathered the swell that buffeted his darkness standing grim and detached, eyes fixed on the spectacle below.

Sayonar locked her fingers around the Sith's arm. "I thought they'd feel nothing. All those pitiable creatures locked in their tubes. They screamed, Scourge. They all screamed in the end."

Scourge covered her hand with his. "Yes, Nulis. And the emperor cried out as well. He will not forget the death of his plans. Tajno was a fool and a puppet, he just never saw the strings."

"And the boy?" asked Kira.

"He will remain in the guest quarters. Skavak can bunk with Seph and Rusk while you, Sayonar and I take turns attending to his needs and education. He must first learn the tools of survival; eating, drinking, body functions. The cadence of life has been forgotten, he must relearn how to separate the rhythm from the noise."

Sayonar laid her head against his shoulder. "He's force-blind. They won't let him remain at the temple indefinitely."

"We'll cross that barrier when the time comes. Seph?"

"Course programmed. Making the jump."

The Soledad – Day 1 of 13

Bowdaar piloted and Akaavi stood behind the pilot's chair. Both observed yellow, red and orange eating a hole into the moon like some ravenous monster chewing on spectrums of the color wheel. The charcoal scar of ruin marked the end of its gluttony.

Scourge's ship stretched and blinked out of sight, Bowdaar made the jump in its wake. Thirteen days to Coruscant and Ky's life hinged on the enormous ego of a doctor and a thread of hope.

Akaavi dropped into the co-pilot's seat, one leg on the floor, the other slung over the armrest. "He won't make it if she dies."

"I know," Bowdaar grunted. "The guilt will eat him alive."

"He'll fall into a bottle and never crawl back out. The signs are there since Coruscant. What the hell do we do?"

"What we always do when we can't fight or run. We wait."

Gus stuck his head in the entrance. "How you guys doing?"

Akaavi stretched her arm against the stitches that had started to pull. "Okay. Thanks for the patch job."

Gus shrugged. "Not as good as Kimble would have done, but I pass muster as a field medic."

"That the doctor's name?" asked Akaavi.

"Yeah. Archiban Kimble. Graduated with honors specializing in xenopathology. He'll see Ky's condition as a challenge which means she's in good hands. It would be too much of a blow to his ego to lose her."

"Archiban, huh?" Akaavi snorted. "That explains a lot."

"Stay still, dammit," Doc cursed at Corso. "I need to drain the hematoma over your eye and give you an injection of antibiotics and an anti-inflammatory for that nose before I can set it. And no kolto until then. If your nose heals wrong you'll be whistling show tunes out of one nostril for the rest of your life."

"I can't see her out of that eye," grumbled Corso, trying to turn his head again.

Doc grabbed Corso's chin and yanked his head to face forward. "She's not going anywhere and so help me, I'm going to knock your ass out if you don't stay still. The sooner I'm done, the sooner you can get back to your pointless pacing."

"Anyone ever tell you, you've got lousy bedside manner?"

"Says the dimwit who's causing all the delays."

"Ow." Corso winced as the scalpel sliced into the corner of his eyelid followed by wads of gauze to soak up the mess.

Doc surveyed his handiwork. "There we go. By tomorrow morning you'll see better but hurt a hell of a lot worse." He injected a hypospray into Corso's neck and reached for a sling to support his arm. "You could use some nerve regeneration on that shoulder. Costly and time consuming, but it won't get better until you do something about it."

Corso stood up and moved to Ky's bedside. "Not worried about me. Why Coruscant?"

"She needs a lot of work and I need the medical equipment available at Coruscant University. Sayonar will have sent word so we'll have no problem getting admittance. Plus," Doc tugged on his lapels, puffed out his chest, "I'm one of their most distinguished alumni. Graduated with honors, top of the class. And it doesn't hurt that she's a very unique case."

Corso's brows drew together over the multi-colored landscape of his face. "They'll use her as a lab rat."

"No son, they'll help me heal her body. Her mind, however, is a challenge best seen to on Tython."

The Segomo – Day 6 of 15

Skavak woke in a foul mood again due to a lumpy mattress, flat pillow and little to no sleep. Getting up hardly seemed worth the effort. The ship was out of booze, he was out of hair gel, the sonic sucked, and everyone treated him as if he had the Ithorian scab-rot or ignored him outright. Bunch of elitist assholes.

He curled his lip. Shared quarters, my ass. Seph mumbled in his sleep, quite loud and colorful at times and the Chagrian never—fucking—moved. He just laid there for hours like a corpse in a coffin, uncanny and creepy as hell.

Skavak rolled out of his bunk. Morning piss, brush teeth, quick shave, slick his hair back with water and pray the shit didn't fall into his eyes all day long. Scourge could rock the bald look, Skavak preferred to have something for the ladies to hang on to. It's a life choice.

Then Ky would enter his head with all the subtlety of a blaster bolt and throw all his righteous pissed off and badass ways right out the airlock. He worried and wrung his hands like somebody's granny in a snit. Sonofabitch, he needed to see her, and, dammit to hell, he missed her. How fucked up was that?

The galley was empty except for Scourge and Sayonar sitting at the side table, her creamy white hands folded over his. For just an instant Skavak wondered how that worked. From what he'd heard, the Sith couldn't feel anything. Huh, that had to play hell with a hard-on.

The Sith's red gaze snapped to him. Fuck! Shut that shit down quick, some thoughts just weren't worth the risk.

A cup of caf and a ration bar, breakfast of spacers everywhere. His mouth involuntarily watered when he recalled those little sausages on Port Nowhere at Simel Todd's bistro. Never question the meat, just savor the flavor. He swallowed with a gulp and leaned against the counter, sipping the too-old caf to wash down the tasteless hull caulk crunching between his molars.

Sayonar turned in her seat and something glinted between her breasts. Skavak averted his gaze and set the mug on the counter. "That medallion. Ky took it off the bones of some dead Jedi on our first trip into the Eidolon. Something Tuul, if I remember right."

"Ky flew you into the Eidolon." Not exactly a question, not exactly a statement. Scourge lifted a brow spur. Skepticism done Sith style.

"Twice, in fact," said Skavak. "Talking to me might not be such a waste of time after all. Imagine what a person could learn from a lowlife like me."

"You never mentioned this before," said Scourge.

"I had my reasons."

"The Rommi treasure?"

Skavak raised one shoulder in a non-committal shrug. "That's Ky's tale to tell when she comes back to us."

Sayonar lifted the medallion, letting it rest in her palm. "You mentioned Tuul. Not Maanak Tuul by any chance?"

"Naw, Gaelan Tuul, I think. Maanak Tuul's son. Ky found a lot of writings and journals, both were mentioned in the final entry."

"She still has the journals?"

"Again, that's her tale to tell. What's the big deal with the medallion anyway?

"It's a long story," said Sayonar.

"I'd say we got time unless there's someplace more interesting for you to be."

"This new information does open other avenues of consideration," said Sayonar. "Generations ago, even before my Lord Scourge was born, one of my ancestors, Kaelin Mon, broke from the Jedi Order to follow the philosophy of the Gray. He feared that strict adherence to the Jedi code would result in apathy and the Sith code in chaos. It's rumored that even some of the Shan family was involved to the extent that it was better to marry than to burn with repressed passions."

Sayonar patted the top of Scourge's hand. "You'll love this, dear. It's also said that Kaelin's wife was Pureblood Sith, though records of her have disappeared over the ages and the blood diluted considerably."

She flashed a smile at Scourge while stroking her chin and the evident lack of face tendrils.

"Hmm," he grunted and rotated his hand for her to continue.

She inclined her head. "Kaelin desired to create a legacy for his heirs, an object of power imbued with both dark and light sides of the force. He left his wife and daughter taking metals and the dust of a crushed Heart of Fire to the Defel on Af'El in the outer rim. Renowned assassins and metallurgists, they fashioned this medallion according to a vision he had. They forged an alloy to give the medallion strength and a Heart of Fire is said to hold part of a person's spirit. It was created to last and carry a piece of him through the ages."

Skavak refilled his mug. "So, what happened to him?"

"He was captured by the empire on his way home. Stories vary, some say he was spotted by a Sith Lord on Af'El, others say he was betrayed by the Defel. Archives say the Emperor killed him in his attempts to turn the gray into total darkness."

Scourge twisted a tendril ring, his eyes fixated on the medallion. "I remember where I've seen it before. It all makes sense now. A painting that hangs in the Emperor's inner sanctum shows that same medallion around his neck. Of course, by the time I entered his employ, the medallion was already gone. I remember reading about a pendant that could not be destroyed or corrupted no matter how the Emperor tried. I dismissed it as Jedi propaganda."

"Of course, you did." Sayonar puckered her lips into a patient moue as if speaking to an impertinent child.

Scourge narrowed his eyes but said nothing.

Skavak emptied the mug and set it in the sink. "Question is, how did Maanak Tuul get his hands on it?"

"I can't answer that," said Sayonar. "Maybe it was stolen or given away. We may find answers in those journals that Ky held on to. What I find most ironic is that the dark side influence of the medallion may have come from the Emperor himself."

"Yet I sense nothing of him," admitted Scourge.

"Perfect balance, my love. I sense nothing of Kaelin either, only a faint calling of blood to blood."

"A bunch of force hogwash if you ask me," grumbled Skavak.

Sayonar's rebuttal came swiftly. "Force hogwash that saved Ky's life."

"Maybe."

Sayonar let the medallion fall against her chest and stood to leave. "Kira will need her break soon and it's my turn with the boy."

Scourge followed her through the door, his voice drifting back to Skavak from the corridor. "So, pureblood Sith in your heritage."

The thud of a fist hitting leather. "Shut it, red boy."

Skavak rolled his eyes. "Ain't love grand."

The Soledad – Day 9 of 13

Corso ran his tongue over his teeth. They felt sticky and dry. Ugh. He'd slept with his mouth open again likely snoring like a Gundark with a cold. Sorry Doc, but I warned you not to give me that pill.

The cot sagged under his weight, his neck crimped at a weird angle on the pillow that hung half off the side and his back ached like he'd slept on a bag of rocks. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and cracked them open enough to see Ky's legs where she floated in the kolto tank not four feet from his face.

"Mornin' baby," he rasped and pushed himself to a sitting position, the cot frame digging into the back of his knees. A man had definitely designed these portable torture devices, no woman would put another human being through such misery. Well, maybe a Sith woman, but he wasn't going there.

He stood, stretched and placed a kiss on the glass at the approximate location of Ky's lips. Doc would be annoyed by the smudge, Corso didn't care. "I miss your tongue, babe. Be back soon."

He walked into the 'fresher just off their quarters, the bed remained untouched. Morning piss, brush teeth, quick shave, run comb through hair, change clothes. The routine was actually comforting in a mundane sort of way. His brain was too full of worry and guilt buzzing everywhere at once. It was nice to hop off the crazy tram for a few minutes each day and take the delivery route, slow as shit, but he never got lost.

The back of his hand skimmed the robe he'd bought for her on Rishi when he reached into the closet for a shirt. He stopped to rub his fingers on one of the fuchsia flowers, the silky threads weaving his mind back to the mental image of her indelibly imprinted on his memory. She sat on that squeaky-ass bed, the robe falling away from her crossed legs, the top draped open to reveal the curve of her breasts, her dark hair falling across her shoulders.

His mind snapped back to the here and now. They shaved her head. They tortured her. He'd kill them all again if he could, but slower; cut for cut, bruise for bruise, broken bone for broken bone. Their ending was too quick and too merciful.

'Stop it!' his mind yelled. 'Don't become this. She needs you not to become this.'

He nodded in agreement, tucked his shirt into his pants, slipped into his boots, slapped a smile on his face and returned to the medbay.

The Segomo – Day 13 of 15

"Mr. Skavak. I would like a word with you." Lord Scourge walked into the galley and closed the door behind him.

Skavak looked up from his datapad. "Seems I'm a captive audience and I doubt you're gonna stop at one word. As long as this doesn't end with me floating in vacuum, I'm all ears."

"What exactly are your intentions concerning Ky?"

Skavak powered down the datapad, his blue eyes sparked against the crimson orbs boring into him from across the room. He leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs beneath the table. "What the hell kind of question is that and what's it to you? Hate to state the obvious, but I'm not seeing a strong family resemblance. You're not her brother and you're damned sure not her daddy."

Scourge ignored the barb. "She will arrive on Tython in a few weeks. Do you intend to be there?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but yes I do."

"And should she wake and decide to leave with you, what then?"

"Then we leave and get on with our lives."

"And what kind of life would that be?"

"I don't have to listen to this shit. Twenty questions are over." Skavak placed his feet on the floor, hands on the table, pushing upward to stand only to be shoved back into the chair. The legs squealed across the floor.

"I am not finished," growled Scourge. "You love her. It is new and exciting and something you have never had before and do not quite know how to handle. You sleep in her bed and eat at her table and life settles into routine. Days, months perhaps years pass and you get bored and restless because that's who you are. An opportunity comes your way, ethically questionable, morally ambivalent and you just can't help yourself. You take the deal."

Skavak tried to speak but words were locked in his throat. Scourge continued. "It is the risk you crave, the possibility of getting caught or pulling it off and thumbing your nose at the universe. You and she argue, hateful words thrown like punches, but cutting like knives. She cannot follow the razor's edge you walk and you cannot stay rooted in the ground she stands on. So, you leave with all those words you cannot take back building a wall between you and you have ruined the one good thing in your life. You will wallow in bitterness and spite because, in the end, you are a thief and all you have done is stolen time from this woman you love and left her broken and alone. Tell me I am wrong, make me believe I am wrong and this conversation ends now."

Skavak rubbed his neck and coughed, his eyes watering. "Already tried and convicted, huh? Corso walked away, something I never did. What the hell makes him any better than me?"

"With a few exceptions, all men are the same at their core, one no better or worse than the next. Their decisions make them who they are, the ability to learn from their mistakes shape their future. The difference between you and Corso is that he loves her enough to change for a lifetime. Can you say the same?"

Bewilderment swept across Skavak's face as if staring at a puzzle and trying to figure out how all the pieces fit. How he fit. "You're saying I should leave?"

"I am not saying anything at all." Scourge opened the door and stepped into the corridor. "I leave you to your thoughts."

Ky's Sanctuary – Day – Who's keeping track?

Ky floated on her back in a sea of aquamarine, her head lying on the crest of Skavak's shoulder, his arms supporting her, his hands on her breasts. Her legs locked around Corso's waist, his one hand cupped under her ass the other at the apex of her pelvis, his thumb rotating... Ah, there. Weightless and hanging on the cusp of release, she moved to the rhythm of the tide and the drive of Corso's hips.

Her arm sliced through the water, searching by touch, reaching down and back and... Oh, there you are. Her fingers wrapped and pressed her palm against the smooth hardness. Skavak squeezed her breasts hard enough to bruise and she rode the pain, stroking him to the throbbing beat of her own pulse.

"Faster," Skavak breathed into her ear. A new word, that's my good boy.

Her gaze traveled the length of her body and locked onto Corso's eyes. Intense and dark and watching her. His pink tongue licked his lips, his teeth flashed, beautiful predator ensnared in the net of her thighs.

Ebb and flow, caught in the current, churning to a frenzy beneath the lapping surface of the salty sea. Skavak groaned and erupted, a sluice of warmth skimmed her knuckles, his knees buckled and water slapped against her chin. Corso clenched his jaw and plunged deep, deep, his fingers biting into her skin.

Her head rolled back and she rose into the bliss under the heat of a tangerine sun.