Getting the prototype proved to be more time consuming than challenging. The Vulkars as a whole were nothing more than decently equipped thugs who appeared to join the gang for the soul purpose of having a place to sleep other than the garbage infested streets. The only real fight that they had encountered had been a middle aged Twi'lek who claimed to want nothing to do with the rag tag group of thugs that had become the new generation of Vulkars. He had even given them a pass card to get past the security system leading the garage further into the base.

"Just do me a favor and wait til I'm out of here before you start blasting the place." He said before heading to the exit.

After reaching the garage and relieving the garage head of a rather important looking security card, the group entered what appeared to be a make shift lab occupied by several ragged looking thugs and a well dressed Twi'lek and his bodyguard who appeared to be interested in more than just guarding his body. The Twi'lek who introduced himself as Kandon Ark wasted no time in trying to recruit Talan to his cause. Ice's nerves had already been pushed beyond their limit and after several minutes of listening to pointless bickering between the two, Ice fired two shots directly into Kandon's head. There was a bloodcurdling scream from his bodyguard and Talan gave Ice an incredulous look. Ice merely shrugged and turned her attention to the bodyguard who was wailing about her "darling!"

After the group had delivered the prototype to Gadon, Talan had been asked to fly in the swoop race personally. After revealing the truth behind his motives, Gadon invited Talan to remain at the base as their guest. Since he would be the only one allowed on the track anyway, the rest of them saw little point in sticking around and decided to head back to the apartment to rest and clean up. Ice had spent a sleepless night tossing and turning on the ancient looking sofa. The sofa itself was not the cause of her exhaustion, nor were the snores emitting from Carth and Zaalbar, though how Mission had managed to sleep through that was a mystery to her. Her main source of unease came from a source that she hated to admit even to herself.

It was the thought of seeing her again after so long that had been weighing upon Ice. It drove her mad that even after all this time Bastila was still able to get to her. It had been nearly fifteen years since they had last seen each other. Ice had only been five years old then and Bastila had been nine. They had traveled to Dantooine to see Bastila one last time before she was fully initiated into the academy.

Ice shook her head and pushed the thought out of her mind. She did not care to dwell on that particular memory.

It had begun to rain heavily sometime during the night, and the early morning sky was covered in thick grey clouds. Heavy pellets of rain beat against the window and lightening could be seen periodically in the distance. Ice stood with her arms crossed over her chest, staring blankly out the window. How had she ended up in this position? She had vowed long ago to never again see her sister, now she was actually helping to rescue her. She wondered if their parents knew of the situation their perfect daughter had gotten herself into. Then again, she doubted their mother would care much. She never did care much for the fate of her children.

Ice's thoughts were interrupted by Mission. "Hey, Ice. Can I ask you something?"

Ice turned her attention to the girl. She had not quite made a decision regarding Mission. On the one hand she had all the irritating traits of a know it all teenager. On the other there was something that reminded Ice of herself at that age. Perhaps it was the fact that Ice herself had been left alone at a relatively young age, or maybe it was the desire to act tough when she was around strangers, even though her eyes betrayed the uncertainty and vulnerability that were raging inside her. Ice wasn't certain what it was, but there were definite similarities between the two of them, and she was not sure she liked that fact.

"If you must." Ice answered shrugging.

"Why do you seem to hate your sister so much? I mean sure, there's always sibling rivalry but that's no reason to hate your own family is it?"

Ice sighed. "You have asked your question. Is there anything else?"

"Hey! You said I could ask you!"

"And you have. I did not however, say that I would answer."

"What would be the point of letting me ask if you weren't going to answer?"

Ice pressed her fingers to her temples trying to relieve the pressure slowly building in her head. "Because," she said trying to keep her voice calm. "It is not a simple answer. But I assure you that her feelings towards me harbor no more love than mine do for her."

This answer seemed to at least appease Mission. She nodded slightly, and turned to leave but paused.

"Hey, Ice?"

Ice nodded stiffly.

"What's your real name?"

Ice hesitated a moment before answering. "That died a long time ago."

Mission thankfully knew to let the matter drop and left Ice to return to her thoughts which now went to another part of her life that she had hoped to never again revisit.

Talan leaned against the swoop bike watching the time board as the final racer crossed the finish line. He had easily bested the time time in the last two races and now all he had to do was wait for the results to become official. At first he was uneasy about racing, he had never handled a swoop bike before and the instructions the Iridonian mechanic had given him had been less than clear. But as soon as he had ignited the engine he felt an odd sense of familiarity. He didn't quite know why, but he felt as if he had been racing for years. It was almost as if he could feel the controls and pedals beneath his feet. He easily manipulated the bike through the obstacles on the track and had managed to get the best time two times in a row. His current time had beaten the previous record by a good five seconds and the mechanic had said somewhat stunned that he had never seen a time like that. Granted, they had been using the prototype generator, but even the mechanic had said that no amateur had ever handled a bike the way Talan had.

Talan drummed his fingers on the side of the bike as the final time of the last race flashed across the screen.

"That does it!" The mechanic announced cheerfully. "You won it for us!"

"Yeah, great." Talan said hardly listening. His attention was focused across the track to the Vulkar side where what could only be Brejik was yelling angrily at his racers. Just behind the now screaming Brejik was a large steel cage, and just barely visible was the form of Bastila. Talan didn't have a clear line of sight to the cage, but from the glances he bad been able to catch, it appeared she was not only scantily clad, but also immobilized. Talan smiled to himself as he thought of the field day that Ice would have if she could have been here.

"People, hear me-" Brejik was now addressing the entire track and those in attendance. Talan sighed, he had expected this. Street gangs rarely played fair, and hated to lose above all else. And factoring in that Brejik had just lost to his most hated rival, Talan was not naive enough to expect things to go smoothly. He gripped his vibroblades and walked towards the man who was still shouting.

"-As a result, I am withdrawing the Vulkars share of the winnings."

"Well, Brejik." Talan said calmly. "Seeing as how I already won, possession of your share of the 'winnings' has passed to me. Therefore making it, or should I say her, mine."

"Fool!" Brejik spat back. "I am the future!"

"Well, that's not very reassuring." Talan said keeping his voice level.

"I am taking this woman and selling her on the slave market, and there's not a damn thing you or the entire Bek gang can do to stop me!"

"I might have something to say about that, Brejik." Both men turned towards the voice that had spoken. It took them both a moment to realize that the voice had come from Bastila who seemed to have freed herself from whatever trance that she had been in. Before anyone could react, the door to her cage flew off the hinges, taking out the two Vulkars that been standing guard. Bastila reached out and the sword of one of the fallen Vulkars flew into her outstretched hand.

"Impossible!" Brejik yelled. "You-you were restrained by a neural disruptor!"

"And you are a fool for trying to hold a Jedi hostage. A mistake you won't live to regret."

Bastila forced jumped to the two nearest Vulkars and Talan was so distracted that he barely had time to prevent Brejik's blade from taking his head off. Talan countered Brejik's attack and he stumbled back slightly but recovered quickly. Talan made eye contact with Brejik and the man seemed to become confused and swung almost halfheartedly leaving himself exposed. Talan struck immediately, slicing his blade across the other man's throat. Brejik made a strangled sound and fell to the ground lifeless. Talan swung his blade clean and stared down at the man, confused about what had just happened. It was as if Brejik had been put under a spell, or like he had completely forgotten how to fight.

As if on instinct, Talan turned around and raised his blade and blocked the attack of a new assailant. He paused when he saw Bastila standing half naked with her blade locked with his. "You!" She said coldly. "If you think you can claim me as a prize.." A look of recognition crossed her face, and her eyes studied him closely.

"You, you're one of the soldiers with the republic fleet." It wasn't a question, but confirmation. Talan wasn't sure how she had recognized him so easily. They had only seen each other in passing and even those occasions were few and far between. Talan nodded once and the two stepped away and lowered their weapons. "How did you end up racing with swoop gangs?"

"It's a long story."

That was putting it mildly.

"Well, we don't have time for that now. We need to find a way to get off this planet. Tell me, are we the only ones left alive?"

"No, Carth Onasi is alive. We and a few...others, have been set up at an abandoned apartment while we were trying to figure out how to rescue you."

"Carth Onasi is alive? That's wonderful-wait, rescue me? Is that what you were attempting to do? Well you've done a poor job of it, I managed to free myself as you just saw. It's more accurate to say I rescued you."

Talan snorted. "Come again? Refresh my memory, who was the one who was in a metal cage in a near catatonic state only a few minutes ago?"

"I also managed to free myself, as I recall." Bastila shot back. "I am also still your commanding officer, and you will speak to me as such."

"I'm starting to see her point about you." Talan said under his breath.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing. We don't have time for this, Carth and the others are waiting for us and I'm sure everyone is just dying to be reunited."

"Allow me to get my things, if you please." Bastila walked in the direction of the storage locker that no doubt held her lightsaber as well as her Jedi robes.

Shame. Talan thought to himself. It's not a bad view.

He shook his head and began looting the bodies for anything useful all the while wondering what he gotten himself into.