Chapter 18: Wild Heart: Drowning

[Docking Bay M63, Tethese, Teth, The Teth System]

"That does it. Stass goes home first thing tomorrow," Coleman said, worriedly. He, Norcuna and Doćo had ducked into an alley to answer Agen's panicked transmission. "We'll see about this informant and come straight back. Lock the hotel apartment down and don't answer the door."

"What about the investigation? And whoever tried to kill Stass?" Agen's blue hologram asked.

"We'll be staying here; we'll deal with it," added Norcuna.

"Understood." Agen's image flickered and dissolved.

"We had better get this meeting done," said Doćo, "If someone's targeting your group, picking at the weak link-"

"Stass is not a weak link," Coleman snapped sternly.

"Evidently, someone disagrees," Doćo replied, matching Coleman's tone. "Whether you acknowledge that or not does not change that."

"With respect, Colonel-"

"Primary Colonel."

"Colonel Doćo. Maybe you should stay out of matters that you don 't understand and know nothing about."

"Enough. Both of you." Norcuna's voice was curt and final. "It is an unideal situation, true, but we cannot afford division right now. We have a meeting to make."

Norcuna led them out into the streets again, weaving their way into the docks. Quickly, they came to the bay that his contact had arranged to be at. Stepping inside, he cast his eyes around. Nobody was visible, though there was an old and beaten up G9 Rigger freighter and a sizeable cargo of what looked like fuel cells.

"Hello?" he called into the bay.

"Over here!" Came the reply after a pause, the voice seemed to be at the end of the bay. Approaching the splendid view of the Tethan landscape, the trio looked around. Stooping by more fuel cells was a gangly human, in his forties by the look of him, tightening a valve on one of the cells.

"Ah, Norcuna, there you are. So glad you could come!"

Something was off about his smile. He seemed to be sweating more than a little.

"Likewise… though I have to ask what is the matter."

"Matter? Nothing! Nothing at all! Now, what is it you wanted information on?"

Coleman and Doćo glanced at each other behind Norcuna. Well that wasn't suspicious at all.~

"I'm looking into who's trying to smuggle some serious contraband off-world. Government secrets kind of contraband."

The contact's expression said it all. His face went taut, eyes almost bulging.

"Ah. Yes. We should probably talk on my ship then." He led the way, his shirt gaining visible stains of sweat as he went.

"That's encouraging…" Coleman muttered.

The contact babbled a bit as he approached his ship.

"You see, rumour's been going round about a woman, asking for help getting some really, really hot cargo offw-" His voice died as the gangplank lowered. It was another fuel cell, with a small metal pack on top. Red light pulsed in time to the device's soft beeping. On its display was a single word in Aurebesh.

'Armed.'

The man's face was ashen.

"But, but she said-"

"RU-"

BOOM!

The fireball consumed Norcuna's contact immediately. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as the room sprung yellow, filling vision and senses, igniting the cargo in a blistering lightshow. Then the shockwave hit, snapping time harshly back to reality. Shock replaced terror as they were blown of their feet. Straight out the hangar mouth - and straight down.

[The Xinka Hotel, Tethese]

Agen heard the knock at his door and set the datapad down. He was sitting up in bed, as he often did in the evenings.

"Come in, Stass; it's unlocked."

The door opened, revealing his friend. She wore an odd expression of nervous apprehension and fatigue.

"Um… I-" she stopped, fidgeted a little, then started again. "I can't sleep. I don't- Um. Could I sleep with you?" She flushed a little as she realised her mistake. "N-not sleep with you; I mean j-just sleep in bed with you and- FUCK that sounds as bad, damn it! Er-"

"Stass," he interrupted her rambling, "I get it – what you're trying to say."

"Oh. Um, right." She fell silent, waiting.

Agen pinched the bridge of his nose. Fuck it. He was probably going to regret this.

"Oh, fine. For one night only, okay?"

She nodded, fully entering and quickly slipping under the covers to lie next to him. Agen too, figured he'd better try and get some sleep. Turning off the light he laid down with his back against hers.

"Night," she muttered.

Agen only grunted, eyes flickering shut.

Warmth surrounded Stass, permeating every inch of her. But more than that; someone was embracing her. Rolling over slightly, she spied Agen's face, lit by a warm smile. His finger was at her lips in an instant and he began leaning down to her.

Oh, she'd had this dream before…

His finger traced across her face, caressing her chin. Her vision was filled with his smile, those comforting eyes. As he came very close indeed, face to face, his hand slid down, following her neck. And all of a sudden…

She couldn't breathe. His grip was strong, the smile turned cruel. Trapped, terrified, she couldn't move. Agen was throttling the life out of her. She tried frantically to pull his hands away. This was wrong, what was happening? Her vision was fading, darkness clouding. She gave one, last, desperate tug… and fell into the dark.

With a shriek, she flew bolt upright in bed, waking Agen with a startled yell. She scrambled out of bed in a panic, incoherent and drenched in sweat, tumbling onto the floor with a thump.

"Stass, what the fu-"

"Get back!" Stass howled over his question. Rational thought was dead in her, crushed by fear and alarm and instinct. Flight won in less than a second. Flailing, she ignored his confused protests, running from the room.

Agen groaned, his hands twitching as they held his head. What had happened? This was a first, even in all the years he had known Stass.

Shakily, he began to get up. He stumbled from his room, searching for Stass. All he found was the open front door. His stomach plummeted at the sight. Master. Master Kcaj. They'd know what to do. Trembling fingers fumbled for -then with- his communicator. Three, Eight- dammit, not Six. Deep breath, Agen. Three. Eight. Five.

He waited.

Nothing.

He tried again. A third time. Still no reply.

The spark of panic in his guts was now a flame.

No. Pull yourself together. Concentrate; focus. This is neither the time, nor place for being upset.

Agen was a rather simple person, at heart. He had a short list of qualities he kept sharpened to a razor's edge and another list of problems he blunted and dulled through training. One of the foremost qualities was his ability to rationalise. Stop, think. Take stock of the situation and take action. One step at a time. With his breathing slowing, he composed himself.

Situation: Stass was gone, who knew where, in a compromised state of mind and serious need of help. Their masters and presumably Primary Colonel Doćo were beyond reach – either by need or by outside interference.

Action: Firstly, find Stass. Secondly, calm her down. Third, return to the hotel suite.

With no other options open to him, he returned to his room. Time to step up. It did not take him long to get fully dressed and geared up. Utility belt, lightsaber, both check. He took one final look around the room. Stass's lightsaber – it lay on the side. Taking that, too, he left. Time to find his friend.

All Norcuna knew was falling. His scream had been ripped from him by both the blast and his rapid descent. Tumbling down, catching flashes of rock pillar and the occasional hangar, followed by night sky and the steamy canopy thousands of feet below. At least the wind and cold meant he wasn't on fire anymore.

And then the wind was torn out of him again as something slammed into his gut.

Now he was rising – who knew how, but he wasn't going to question it. Slumped over whatever was carrying him, he watched the ground moving away, in a strange state of transfixion. There was a sudden flump and dimly, he saw Doćo's wind-battered face in his peripheral – about as confused as Norcuna felt. All became clear quickly, as his eye found the rippling of a cloak. Shaking his daze away, he brought his head up to look at the wall. Legs, a pair of them – booted and clothed – running at a blur and barely distinguishable, propelling their rescuer up and up.

Barely a second after he'd registered this, he and Doćo found themselves roughly hurled into the mouth of a hangar. Immediately, Norcuna doubled over and retched onto the floor. His eyes stung, dripping inflamed tears and the direction of up was a bit unclear. Shivering right to his bones, he mercifully felt the warmth of the hangar return to him. He just about managed to look up, seeing Coleman hanging from the mouth of the bay by his arms with a panicked look on his triangular face.

"Little help?!" He practically shrieked at the disoriented pair.

Needing no more prompting, they each grabbed an arm and hauled him up, all three collapsing as soon as he was safe. Catching enough breath to speak again, Coleman spluttered.

"And that made the… Force Speed…. worth learning."

He sat up and looked around, trying to calm his erratic breathing. They weren't in the same docking bay that they'd started in – the number eighty-three was daubed on the wall in aurebesh.

"So… golden question," Norcuna began, "how could they know we are here already? Whoever 'they' are."

"It would have required a great deal of infiltration ability to even learn of our presence this soon," Coleman supplied, "much less target Stass in such a way. Hmm." He felt the answer was just out of reach. It was eluding him somehow and he couldn't see why. "We need to see how Stass and Agen are. We need to think about this." Taking his communicator from his belt, he found there was a message on it. Falling through the sky and then running at technically impossible speed up a rock wall carrying two people had left him rather blind to any ringing. He played the message for all of them to hear.

Agen's transparent figure burst into view before them: rattled, dishevelled and half-dressed. He was also speaking five times as much as he usually would.
"Masters! I-I've lost Stass! We were asleep together and then sh-she suddenly woke up screaming! She left – left the hotel and I don't know where she's gone! I hope you're okay, but I can't wait! I'm going out to look for her; call me when you get this!"

The image faded, leaving behind a deathly silence. The three looked at each other.

"We are being separated," said Norcuna, without a moment's doubt or hesitation. "Picked apart and isolated to weaken us. Make us easier to deal with. Easier to kill. Stass is the only healer among us, too – most likely why she was first targeted. Agen is a bonus." He stood, discarding the burnt remnants of his cloak and tossing his lekku behind his shoulders. "No more separations for now. We move together. Coleman, contact Agen, we'll meet him and then track down Stass. Keep your wits about you – the last thing we want is an ambush that kills us all at once."

Coleman nodded, dialling back. There was no answer. Frowning, he called again.

Nope.

Third time? A fourth? Nothing.

"Balls."

Agen followed Stass's trail faithfully. A simple matter, really: years of friendship...through the Force. Yet there wasn't much rhyme or reason to it, twisting and turning as it did through back alleys and streets.
How in the galaxy could she have gotten so far so fast? Left and right, meandering between back passages, dodging beggars, bins, seedy individuals and even some odd fellow muttering to himself. Wherever Stass was going, it was getting further and further from the parts of town that were most secure and he was fairly certain that that was not a coincidence. He could hardly see any officers now - the hotel area being well-populated by them. Those he did see looked warier, more experienced. Definitely a hub of destitution and danger.

Quite a few levels down from where he'd started and deep into the depths of the hollowed mesa, less and less light penetrated. This was not a safe area at the best of times – much less for a friend who was in the middle of an episode. Then, suddenly, out of nowhere the trail went dead. Cold as ice. He couldn't sense her anymore. His run came to an equally abrupt halt. Stood at the mouth of an alleyway, looking left and right into the dingy road it opened into, he felt nothing from her.

What did that mean? He'd never not been able to sense her – even when they'd been on opposite ends of the galaxy, he'd still been able to feel her in the back of his mind.

But now?

Nothing.

His constant companion, lifelong friend, was lost to him.

The memory of their first meeting, all those years ago, pounded in his minds' eye. It had been on Coruscant – they had both been only five. It was a clear memory to him, a warm, but cloudy day. Everyone else in his clan had been outside, having some sort of lawn picnic. He'd opted to stay inside and get homework out the way. Maybe read a little, nothing much. He never really liked crowds or talking much anyway – let alone mingling.

His studies had been interrupted by muffles from the other side of his bedroom door. Curiosity getting the better of him, he'd gotten up and opened it to reveal Knight Gallia, of all people, carrying the last of a small set out boxes into the room opposite. The room had, until then, been unoccupied. The rooms were the last in the dormitory, situated at the very end of the corridor with only the clan instructor's room on the end.

Standing in the corridor had been a girl about his age. She'd looked similar to Knight Gallia, but only superficially – different eyes, more pronounced cheeks, shorter face. Her eyes had nervously flitted to look at him, before darting away. Knight Gallia had set the last box on the bedside desk, then turned to find Agen peeking out his door.

"Ah… Youngling… Kolar, was it?"

He had nodded, quietly, as he had been and still was want to do.

"This is my cousin, Stass Allie." She had gestured to the girl. "She's been rather sad of late and could use a friend. You wouldn't be so kind as to be that friend, would you?"

It had seemed such a simple thing, saying yes with little thought, but it had had a profound impact on his and Stass's life.

Snapping back to the present, Agen gave a little wave of his head. She was gone now. He didn't know what to do. Just half an hour ago, he'd been so confident, so sure. And now… what had he been thinking? He fumbled for his communicator – had to try to reach Master, or Knight Kcaj.

His hand found only empty space.

It was gone – his communicator. He'd made certain to secure it on his belt before he'd left. Dammit, he'd passed so many random strangers in his chase. Many of them had looked untrustworthy at the best of times and any of them could have swiped it. Looking around, he also had no idea where he was. At all.

No.

Nonono.

The stinging of his glistening eyes took more out of him than he would have thought. Almost caving in, he flopped into a crouching foetal position, curling up and trying not to sob.

He was useless.

"Whatever is the matter?"

What the-

Standing behind Agen, was an average height, largely unassuming Umbaran. He looked well into his years, yet there was a fair amount of spring in his kindly smile. Doing a double-take, Agen leaped backwards, putting some distance between them. How had he not sensed him coming? It was as if he'd just materialised out of nowhere.

"Who are you?" This man could not have looked more out of place in this shitty little crime alley if he tried. Well-dressed, well-mannered and fairly clean. Agen knew a rat when he smelled one, personal anxiety or not. Struggling to keep a degree of discipline, he let his hand rest at his belt. Weapon still there, good.

Holding up his empty hands in front of him, the man gave a soft, winning smile, before replying.

"Now, now, no need to be anxious. I'm just a friend looking to help. You do want some help looking for your friend, don't you, Agen?"

The padawan started.

"How do you know my name?" He was fixing the man with a rather potent scan. He did not like this one bit.

"Oh, I know everybody's name, Agen – but you especially, at least right now. So, do you want my help? It's up to you, but, well, I worry for your friend…"

… Well this was proceeding at a blazing pace. Agen was barely trying to keep his composure as it was and now this… man. Where had he even come from?

"You still haven't told me who you are?" Agen said, still suspicious. Friendly demeanour or not, he certainly wasn't going to trust this guy as far as he could throw him.

"Oh, I'm someone like you. Just like you, as it happens. I caught your sense and decided you would need some help. It's not safe out here on your own." Again, he offered a warm smile. "Shall we?" He gestured to the right turn behind Agen. "Time is against us, I think."

Agen frowned. His instincts screamed that this was a trap. But at the same time, he was lost, with no leads, no contact to the others and every second wasted was not doing Stass any favours. He really wanted to go and hyperventilate right now. He forced that down – he had work to do. He'd have to play whatever bizarre game this man was playing.

"Very well. Lead on."

[Unknown]

Stass jerked awake, eyes clearing to her surroundings. Wherever she was, it was dark. Things were still somewhat blurry. She shook herself, vision returning a bit more. Her shaking made her rather aware that she was sitting, her arms rather uncomfortably held behind her. A quick test revealed it to be some sort of metal binding.

Concentrate. Focus.

Yes, she could feel with her fingers now. Magnacuffs – but not a model she was personally familiar with. Glancing down, she didn't seem to be otherwise restrained. She looked up, to see a glass window – though whatever was beyond it was dark, giving only a reflection of the room she was in. It seemed mostly empty. Just her, cuffed on the chair, a locked door, a table strewn with datapads, an armchair or two to the side, Darth Phobos sitting on the arm of one and meeting Stass's eyes through the reflection, a set of lockers- waaaat.

Stass almost reeled out of her chair as Phobos waved, a somewhat jovial smile on her face, again watching through the reflection.

"Hey, you're awake! Sleep well?" The Theelin Dark Lord seemed far more pleased than Stass's sense of wellbeing liked.

Oookay, Stass, let's try not to freak out over the fact that one of the Dark Lords of the Sith was almost right behind her, merry as can be. She failed. Squirming, she made to dive out of the chair in the direction of the door. She bounced off of an invisible barrier, ricocheting back into place in her seat.

"Yeah, you're not going anywhere," Phobos said, drumming her fingers absent-mindedly on the chair arm she was on. "You're going to be doing me a favour. Well, okay, I say favour, but you really don't have a choice in the matter and I'm probably never going to ever do anything for you… but still. We've got a little while to wait for the last piece to fall into place before we can start, though, so if you'll calm down, we can wait like civilised people."

Recognising futility when she saw it, Stass remained still, mutinously.

Phobos held out a hand in the direction of the table, summoning a datapad from it. Flopping into the armchair and lazily sitting sideways in it, she dangled her legs over the side and inspected the device.

"You know, when I'm planning, picking my targets, one of the things that always catches my eye is the phrase "emotional dependence" in a personal file. But you? You are almost the jackpot. I mean, really… I grew up in a warzone and yet I have had a far more stable childhood than you. Just… listen to this!"

She began reading aloud from the datapad. "'Physically and psychologically abused in secret from a young age, Padawan Allie suffered extensive maltreatment and even torture at the hands of her mother, who was diagnosed with acute, extreme and deep-rooted, but extremely well-hidden Obsessive-Compulsive Personality Disorder. When separated and detained, Aeris Allie exhibited severe distress and violent outbursts. In short, she had a pathological need to control her children – to form them into her vision of perfection and only her perfection. Lady Allie's deliberate subterfuge for more than five years of her actions indicate she was fully aware of what she was doing and that she was unwilling to seek help or even attempt to change her destructive behaviour.'"

Feared serial killer in the room or no, Stass was pissed. She thrashed in outrage, trying to resist the unseen force that was pinning her in place.

"Oh, stop wasting your time," Phobos commented, watching the girl with amusement. "My capabilities with The Force are so far beyond you that it's actually funny."

Stass didn't care. She was livid. She wanted nothing more than to leap from this damn seat and shove that datapad down the smug bitch's throat. But she couldn't get up, no matter how hard she struggled. And Phobos was only half-paying attention to her, too, still reading from the file.

"Now where was I? Ah yes. 'It is believed that Padawan Allie's elder siblings' deaths – originally thought to have been from natural causes – are likely to have been at the very least catalysed by Lady Allie's abuse. It is also suspected that Padawan Allie witnessed the events that lead to the death of at least her sister, Naoru.' That's how I got the idea to point you down that particular bit of memory lane, by the way, I was curious if you had or not. Anyway, moving on. 'It is unclear how permanent Padawan Allie's psychological damage is. She has made a strong friendship with Padawan Kolar – possibly a Force bond – as well as other deep, yet lesser, friendships with several others over the years. It is strongly advised that Stass be encouraged to foster these friendships, to help her heal emotionally. Already, vast improvements have been made in Stass's ability to socialise. She came to our order as an asocial, mute and periodically violent young lady; today, she is friendly, fun-loving and even enjoys joking around with her friends. However, two serious problems remain.'" Phobos chuckled, glancing at Stass again, through the reflection. She winked, getting only a glare from Stass in return.

"Now this is where things hit the jackpot for me." She returned to reading, an almost manic glee creeping into her voice the more she read. "'Padawan Allie suffers from periodic, but intense flashbacks of her ordeal, usually while asleep. These episodes usually paralyse her and trigger extreme terror. It is unclear exactly what can or should be done to help alleviate this. Sessions with trained therapists have yielded mixed results, as have sessions with healers. There does not seem to be a consistent method of reducing them.' Holy shit, it's like a big flashing sign telling me that you were made for me to come along and exploit this!" Phobos gave a small chuckle.

She was, however, interrupted from reading any more by the creaking of the door opening.

"Ah, at last!"

A hooded Umbaran stepped in, smoothing the front of his cloak. Close behind him, was Agen.

"Phobos. Been keeping our guest entertained, I take it?"

Agen took one look at Stass, handcuffed in the chair, then went for his belt. In a flash, both his and Stass's lightsabers ignited in each hand, a Jar'Kai opening stance.

That was, however, as far as he got. He couldn't move. He wasn't even breathing, just frozen in place. Eyes wide in alarm, they cast around the room, taking in Phobos in the chair, then locking on to the Umbaran's closed fist that was held up. Slowly, the man turned his head to look at Agen, his features suddenly becoming much more recognisable – why hadn't Agen recognised him before?!

He was staring into the grinning face of Darth Ruin himself. Another of the Dark Lords.

"Now that wasn't very nice, Agen," he almost purred. The lightsabers flew from the boy's grasp, neatly lining up side by side on the table of datapads. Agen found himself a few feet off the ground, still trapped in his ready stance. Mercifully, his breathing returned to him, deep, desperate and afraid.

Ruin turned to address Phobos.

"Ready to begin?" He asked.

"Been waiting for a while. Read her file to her. Don't think she liked it," came the reply as Phobos stood. "Personally, I don't see what you see in the kid, but hey, I don't see why this blast cannon is worth sending me."

Phobos crossed to Stass, standing behind her and looking at her through the mirror of the darkened window.

"And now is when you get to do me my favour!" Her fingers clasped Stass's shoulders, in some mock parody of friendliness. "You see, with your issues, you're just perfect to turn into a gibbering wreck. And with you messed up beyond belief, your pesky masters aren't going to be able to do much to safeguard the Teth government's little project. So while they are in headless chicken mode trying to help you, I'll be robbing them blind. Now you might think that's a bit much for our R&D people to send little old me over, but a favour is a favour and a job is a job." Her friendly smile was back in place.

"Such a shame that your Jedi training is so insufficient to help you save your friend," Ruin was now speaking to the paralysed Agen, but making sure his voice carried over to the others. "But fear not! For I am here to help you! You see, I am not here for something so trivial as small arms. I am here, well, to help you. I can smell your potential from across the galaxy. I want to set you free. And then you can help keep your friend safe." He turned, heading for another door, beside the window. He opened it, flicking on a light, revealing a padded training room beyond the window. "And that is why I am going to begin your new training. The first day of your new path. I'm going to help you unlock the tools to save your friend. But I'm sure you'll need more convincing to play ball, so let's talk!" He took Agen into the training room, the door shutting and locking behind him.

Phobos leaned down to Stass's ear, whispering into it.

"He's going to have a front row seat to you losing your mind. It's one of Ruin's favourite motivations. He's oh so good at what he does, breaking people and building them up again. Me? I just break people. And today it's your turn." She straightened up and walked round to Stass's front. "Your friend is going on the fast train to the Dark Side, your masters are going to be burdened by your gibbering remains and I'm going to get away with espionage! And it'll be all your fault." Another of those sinister smiles.

Wasting no time, she drove her foot into Stass's chest, sending her teetering back and over, the floor, the walls, window and ceiling, her whole surroundings, shattering like glass. The girl plunged into darkness and a swirl of her own history.

"Through the looking glass and down the rabbit hole we go!" Phobos's voice rang out from all around. "Nothing personal."

Stass felt … disgusting. Disgusted with herself and like total and utter faecal matter.

It was all her fault.

Snapping to focus with a jolt, Stass somehow managed to not scream. She was in the cafeteria, back on Coruscant, in the temple. Her hands were smaller. Agen, beside her, was younger – as was K'Kruhk to the right. Both only had the smallest nubs of horns and tusks respectively. This was… she was twelve. And then she saw the date on her timekeeper. Her blood froze in her. No… oh no.

There was a hand on her shoulder. Knowing what she would find, she looked up. Into the emerald eyes of her mother. It was the day she came back. This had at least explained why she'd overheard Master Reivzx having a shouting match with someone in her office the other day. Master Reivzx never shouted. She'd later learned that her mother's supposed reform and clean bill of mental health had tied everyone's hands in the matter. The Jedi couldn't legally prevent her from coming. On the upside, what transpired over the coming days served as a flashpoint that caused some major reforms in family law.

It hadn't helped her much, though.

The smile, that horrendous, disgustingly saccharine smile of her mother's was back.

"My dear, I've missed you so much!"

She was shaking. Almost every instructor's eye in the hall was watching, scrutinising. The memory played in fast forward, her mother putting on her eternal act of sweetness and repentance, all the while plotting and waiting. Even the arrival of her father to oversee didn't deter her. Not the outright death threat from Adi, nor Agen's ever-present, violent gaze that promised bloody murder.

Eventually, there came a point where Stass wasn't being watched, for only a brief amount of time. And suddenly, the old mother was back in full force. In but a moment, Stass had been taken, she relived it, relived the moment the smile had turned cruel, the moment Aeris overpowered her and dragged her into one of the maintenance tunnels. A microscopic needle later and Stass was limp, barely aware of the world – to deaden the Jedi from sensing where she was. Aeris wasted little to no time, stuffing Stass into an air vent in a maintenance stairwell.

But then…

"WHERE IS SHE!"

Master Zourvux Reivzx was extremely attentive when it came to the safety of younglings. It had taken her less than a minute to realise something was wrong and barely five to find Aeris, just coming out of the stairwell. Groggy and barely conscious, Stass's recollection of events was almost out-of-body, just a limp view out of the vent cover at the sheer, unbridled rage of Master Reivzx, with Adi in tow.

Aeris only smirked.

"I have no idea what you are talking about, Master. Check the security footage if you don't believe me." The footage had been tampered with, of course. Her mother had made sure of that. But Zourvux had not been fooled, not even for an instant. She had loomed right up to Aeris, face to face, looking her in the eye.

"I am going to destroy you for this."

Aeris's smirk had only widened. She began walking past both of the women to the exit.

"Master, whatever you are raving about-"

Crunch!

Seemingly out of nowhere, a pale fist cracked into the woman's jaw. A cloaked blur of purple, brown and a little grey followed it up with a vicious kick as it flew through the now-open door. The victim staggered back in a daze, not even getting a chance to react. Wasting absolutely no time, more blows followed, forcing her over the railing. The blur followed, falling with her and raining yet more harsh, brutal hits. Strike by bloody strike. Punching, kicking, beating her all the way down.

Only able to stare in surprise at the rapid, violent spree that had just vanished from sight, it took Adi a moment to recover. Turning to Zourvux, she managed words.

"Did you know the Dark Woman was back?"

The memory froze.

"Wait." Phobos materialised, in the middle of the scene. She looked both confused and more than slightly peeved. "Why is this part in it? It's one of your only cherished anythings involving your-" Her eyes snapped wide. She rotated on the spot. There was another intruder in the tableau, also not frozen and who had definitely not been present in the memory. He stood there, staring her down, with piercing, reserved eyes. Phobos met them.

"Master Tiin."