As Hunter increased his pace, Tech fell behind until he was at the back of the group. He hoped they would catch up with Wrecker and Quinlan soon, so that they could return to the Marauder. The leviathan's attacks had been limited by the loss of its sight and – as far as Tech could tell – by its own efforts to stay alive, and yet, Tech had to wonder if the team would be able to return to the shuttle without further attacks.

"Hunter!"

Tech blinked and slowed. Quinlan's voice seemed to be coming from the room that Crosshair had just run past, and Tech stopped beside it, surprised that the others hadn't seemed to hear the Jedi. Swinging the door open, he glanced inside, but the small anteroom was empty. The only thing of interest was another door, which appeared to open into a wider room beyond –

– from which Quinlan called again, sounding panicked. "TECH!"

Drawing his pistol, Tech ran forward a step before realizing that he should notify the others. He leaned back out into the corridor and opened his mouth to call after them, but they were gone.

Tech stood motionless, a chill shooting through his stomach. It was strange that the others had failed to hear Quinlan's cries? He was about to comm Hunter and tell him when the Jedi's sounded again, weaker this time. "Tech? . . . Tech – is that you?"

His voice sounded muffled, as though he had fallen, or was trapped.

Tech dashed across the room, activating his comm as he did so. "Hunter? Hunter, come in."

There was no response. And, what was worse, the new room he glanced into was empty, just like the first one.

After pausing in confusion, Tech pulled out his datapad and ran a quick scan. No one was close by, certainly not as close as the voice had sounded. Tech could see the leviathan's wavering biosignature, and a flickering red dot at the edge of his range, where Hunter and Vythia and Crosshair probably were by now, but that was all. Frowning at the lack of information, he tried to access the Marauder's sensors and extend his datapad's range, but the storm was too heavy – heavier than it had been when they fought their way to the shuttle through the driving ash.

Tech fidgeted, inexplicably afraid, then shouted, "Quinlan!" His voice bounced strangely off the walls. "Quinlan, where are you? Wrecker?!"

There was no answer, and as Tech listened more carefully, he realized that all he could hear was the occasional rasping breath of the leviathan, two corridors back. Apart from the monster, he was completely alone.

As the realization sank in, Tech spun around with the intention of rejoining Hunter and Crosshair. Before he could leave, though the hoarse voice whispered again, followed by a groan of pain. "Tech . . . augh . . . Don't leave –"

Tech wavered in the center of the room. Despite the voice, it was highly unlikely that Quinlan was nearby. The scanners showed no one closer than Hunter. The leviathan was probably wreaking havoc on everyone's senses, as it had earlier. After all, when he and Crosshair and Quinlan were running towards the center, they'd heard their own voices, even though no one was actually speaking.

Taking a deep breath, Tech thought deliberately. Yes. That is probably what I have been hearing. I should already have considered that.

But the voices he and his teammates had heard while trying to catch up with Hunter and Wrecker and Vythia had reflected their own thoughts. Because of this, Tech thought it was reasonable to assume that Quinlan was at least thinking that he wanted Tech to help him, which meant that the Jedi – and therefore probably Wrecker as well – were trapped somewhere and in need of assistance.

Tech left the room uncertainly. Quinlan would be able to tell if someone was nearby because of the Force, and that might be the reason the Jedi was calling Tech and asking him not to leave. Otherwise, why would Quinlan be thinking that? Or was the leviathan not limited to using only a person's immediate thoughts?

As he continued to consider the possibilities, Tech paused in the hallway, undecided as to the best course of action.

"Tech!" Wrecker called, apparently from the very next room. "Hey, Tech! Hunter, where are you guys?"

Since his voice was approaching, Tech stayed right where he was. If it really was Wrecker he was hearing, then his oldest squad mate would emerge momentarily, and they could return to Hunter and Crosshair together.

But – Quinlan had been with Wrecker, so where was the Jedi? How had he been separated from Wrecker, and why didn't Wrecker sound worried? If anything, he sounded a bit irritated.

When the door remained closed, though, Tech realized that Wrecker's voice was probably just another illusion. All the voices were most likely illusions, of course, but what if one of them wasn't? He hurried past the door and after the others, wondering if Hunter and Crosshair had been following the wrong set of voices.

But when he tried to contact them, one after the other – and then Wrecker, Quinlan, and Vythia – there was no answer from anyone.

Glancing at his sensors, Tech turned right, intending to meet up with Hunter and warn him that he suspected they were being misled; but he had only gotten halfway down the hall when there was a soft thud, and he heard Wrecker groan. At the same time, and from the same exact spot, Quinlan called Wrecker's name in a panicked voice.

Tech still could not see any biosignatures except for those of his three remaining teammates, so either Quinlan and Wrecker were not behind the door, or Tech's sensors had failed.

Or the sensors cannot find them, because they are trapped by something that blocks the signal, such as a rock slide, he thought with a sudden jolt. He determined to check the room, and then, if it were empty, to rejoin Hunter without following any other voices.

He took note of where the others were, then slid his datapad back into his belt and drew his pistols. After kicking the door open, he peered inside and paused. There was nothing immediately in sight, but the room was large and dark, and he couldn't see all of it. Then, from the shadows darkening the opposite wall, Tech distinctly heard something shift.

"Tech?" Wrecker's voice said weakly.

Keeping his pistols leveled at the voice, Tech stepped into the room. There was a rush of sound, and he instinctively dodged to the left just as something swooped past, clipped him hard in the side, and knocked him sprawling. Tech was slammed onto his back, the wind knocked completely out of him even before his head struck against the floor. As his vision went momentarily dark, Tech rolled onto his side and reached for the pistol he'd dropped.


"Where's Tech?" Hunter demanded again, voice sharp.

Crosshair, who had turned to stare down the corridor in surprise, spun back to face him. "He was right next to me –" He glanced at Vythia, who shook her head, eyes gleaming with sudden worry.

From down the next hall, Wrecker's voice called for help again.

Hunter visibly hesitated, hands reaching slightly in either direction.

"Go," snapped Crosshair. "I'll look for Tech. He can't have gotten far."

Without waiting for his sergeant's reply, he turned and ran back the way they had come. Tech had been right next to him when they left the leviathan, and Crosshair distinctly remembered catching a glimpse of him in his peripheral vision as they turned into the next hallway. He didn't remember noticing him after that. Tech had probably been staring at his datapad and ended up taking a wrong turn or something.

Turning the corner, Crosshair slid to a halt and looked around. The green flames and flickering shadows interfered badly with his ability to see tiny details that might have guided him. The marks in the dust in the center of the main corridor, where the team had run through it, were easily visible, but if there were tracks beneath any of the darkened doorways, he couldn't see them.

And Tech could have gone through any of the doors – but which one, and why would he have?

The leviathan's heavy, slow breathing was clearly audible now, but Crosshair felt only a slight twinge in his chest. When it didn't get worse, even when he got closer, he ignored it in favor of glancing through each of the doors leading away from that corridor. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

The commlink on his wrist beeped. "Crosshair, any luck?" Hunter asked tensely.

"Negative. You?"

"We're still following –"

"Crosshair!" Tech's frightened voice wasn't that far away..

"Hold it," Crosshair said, interrupting whatever Hunter was trying to tell him. "I just heard him."


Wrecker paused at the top of the fifth stairway, shifting the Jedi's weight on his shoulder as he glanced around at the central room he'd just entered. Quinlan had stopped twitching a few seconds ago, but Wrecker wasn't sure if that was because the attack had stopped or he'd just passed out. He jostled him slightly and said, "Quinlan?"

The Jedi drew in a shuddering breath, but didn't answer.

Frowning, Wrecker slung him down and sat him on the ground with his back against one wall. "Hey, you even awake?" he asked, holding him up with one arm.

". . . I've been – awake." Quinlan wiped the back of one hand across his mouth, then tried unsuccessfully to stand. Slumping back, he glanced at the hand Wrecker had left on his shoulder and said, "I'm good, Wrecker, thanks. You can let me up now."

Wrecker, who hadn't been putting an ounce of pressure on him, removed his hand and watched as Quinlan tried and failed again to get up. The Jedi blinked, looking confused at his own failure. It would have been funny if they weren't in so much danger.

"Here." Wrecker pulled a bottle of water from his pack and handed it over. "Drink somethin'."

Quinlan obeyed, his gaze flitting around the room. "Which level are we on now?"

"Seventh." Wrecker glanced back down the stairway. Hunter probably wanted him to stay with the Jedi, but Wrecker really didn't want to leave the others to deal with the leviathan on their own. He knew those two grenades he'd given to Vythia wouldn't be enough to kill the monster, and they couldn't just sit around and wait for it to die.

"Oh –" Abruptly, Quinlan set aside the water bottle and twisted to kneel upright. "It's not dead, Wrecker."

"Yeah, I didn't think it would be." Wrecker activated his commlink.

"But it stopped attacking, I thought maybe it was dead." Quinlan, looking steadier now, finally managed to get to his feet. "Wrecker?"

"Hunter's not answering," Wrecker replied slowly. "Nobody is. Can't tell if it's the range or something else."

"We couldn't reach you earlier, either." Quinlan was edging toward the stairs. "Let's get back down to the others."

"Uh . . ." Wrecker got up. "Hunter said to get you out. I don't think you should go back down while that monster's still alive."

"It stopped attacking," Quinlan said uncertainly.

"Yeah, probably 'cause we reached the edge of its range or it got bored or thought you weren't a threat anymore or something like –" A faint burst of static buzzed from his wrist, and Wrecker straightened. "Hunter! Hunter, can you hear me?"

". . .ker! . . . re you?" Hunter sounded both relieved and angry.

"Seventh floor." Wrecker went to the edge of the stairway, hoping it would let him get a better signal. "We're fine, what happened?"

"Later . . . you . . . out as . . ." A harsh crackle cut off the next part of his words, which ended with, ". . . see Tech?"

"What?" Wrecker turned, meeting Quinlan's alarmed gaze with his own, then brought his comm closer to his mouth and raised his voice. "Hunter, you're cutting out. What'd you say about Tech?"

There was a short pause before Hunter's voice came through again, a little more clearly. "Did . . . see Tech? . . . he follow you?"

"No. What happened, where is he?"

". . . ing for him now . . . there . . . athan's not dead –"

The comm buzzed with static, then cut out completely.

Wrecker tried to reestablish the connection twice, but it didn't work. "Guess they're really out of range," he mumbled. "What should we do?"

The Jedi didn't answer, instead frowning at the floor.

Wrecker drew and then sheathed his vibroblade repeatedly, then started fidgeting with the handle. How had Tech managed to get lost? He'd been with Hunter.

"I don't know," said Quinlan.

Wrecker looked up, surprised. "Huh?"

"I don't know what we should do – heck, I don't even know what Hunter was trying to tell us to do. I think he probably wanted us to stay here, but if Tech's missing –"

"He's gotta be on the second level, right?" Wrecker asked.

"Not if he followed us up the stairs." Quinlan folded his arms tightly, hunching his shoulders. "But if he did, where is he now?"

"Can you find him?" Wrecker asked. "In the Force or whatever?"

"Not with the leviathan blocking me." Quinlan drummed his fingers on his arms. "But we could go down to the sixth level. Just try it, I mean."

"Yeah?" Wrecker eyed him suspiciously. "You sure you want to do that?"

"Oh, I'm sure. We have got to get back in contact with the others."

"Okay." Wrecker headed for the stairs, keeping a close watch on the Jedi. It wouldn't help at all if he had to drag Quinlan back upstairs again, delaying their search even more, but he would if he had to. "Tell me the second you start getting attacked."

The Jedi didn't argue with him, only gave a sharp nod and kept walking.

They'd gotten halfway down the first flight of stairs when Wrecker suddenly heard Tech calling from a short distance away. "Quinlan, Wrecker! Where are you?"

"Over here!" yelled Wrecker, relief surging through him. "We're right in the center!"

"I cannot find you!" Tech's voice was fading slightly.

"Wait, Tech!" Quinlan shouted, stumbling down a few stairs. "Don't move, stay where you are, we'll –"

A sharp gasp cut him off and was followed by a splintering crash and a moan.

Wrecker activated his comm again, not waiting for a response. "Hunter, Tech's on the sixth level, we're going in."

No answer.

Wrecker sprinted across the central room to the door they'd heard the noise coming from and yanked it open. "Tech, where are you?" He froze in confusion, gaze taking in the small, empty room. "Uh, Quinlan? He's not here."

"Are you . . . Oh. Kriff it." Quinlan stopped in the middle of the hallway, grimacing as though in sudden realization. "Wrecker, hold on."

"We don't have time," protested Wrecker, trying to decide which of the many doors before him to open.

"Wrecker. I don't think you're actually hearing Tech."

"What are you talking about?" Wrecker slammed open the nearest door, saw nothing but an empty floor, and banged it shut again. "That was Tech's voice!"

"Yeah, I think it was from the leviathan."

As if in response to his words, a chorus of faint screams rose from below, and Wrecker stopped short, one hand clenched around an iron handle. "But it sounded like Tech!"

"I know it did."

Wrecker checked the next room warily – Tech wasn't there, either. This time, Wrecker kicked the door all the way open and let it bounce back. It swung gently shut instead of slamming, and Wrecker rounded on Quinlan. "You sure?"

"Well, something's making the voices move around." Gripping his lightsaber hilt, the Jedi turned back towards the staircase. "We need to kill the leviathan, Wrecker. It's just going to confuse everyone and get us separated."

Wrecker nodded slowly, then pressed his comm again. "Hunter, come in. Crosshair, can you hear me? Vythia?"

This time, not even the slightest hiss of static answered him.


"Cross . . . r?" The signal from Hunter's transmitter was getting weaker and weaker, and Crosshair had to hold the comm against his ear to make out anything through the constant bursts of static. "Quin . . . ch's . . . sixth lev . . . ing in."

Shaking his head in irritation, Crosshair flicked the comm unit. "Hunter, repeat that. Did you say Tech is on the sixth level?"

" . . . ecker call . . . hear . . . not sure . . ."

With a fizzling snap, the comms cut off completely. For a moment, Crosshair simply stared at his comm unit, but the tiny light showed there was more than enough power remaining. Either Hunter's had failed, or something was interfering badly with the signal, and it couldn't be distance. He couldn't be that far from the others yet.

It sounded like Hunter was heading up to the sixth level – and if he wasn't, Quinlan or Tech were up there. Someone was, anyway.

After checking last two rooms in the hallway, Crosshair headed for the central room. He entered from the doorway adjacent to the one where the leviathan now rested, careful to walk quietly as he approached the stairway leading up.

In the hall outside, the monster was still taking heavy, rasping breaths. With the way the leviathan could defend itself, Crosshair had no intention of attacking it on his own – no matter how satisfying as it would be to put a few shots through its brain. And given that it had survived four shots to the eyes and being blown open, Crosshair shooting it through the head probably wouldn't kill it anyway.

The sniper ran quietly up the stairs, listening for any sounds that might guide him to the others. It was strange that he hadn't heard anything from them yet – if they were all in the stairwell, he should have by now. Maybe they were just keeping quiet, for a change. Crosshair scoffed under his breath. That would happen the one time he wanted them not to be quiet.


Hunter stared at his blinking but silent commlink for a moment, then hit it against his vambrace with an exasperated growl. The storm had barely interfered with sensors or comms earlier. He'd spoken to Crosshair not five minutes ago, without any trouble. So why not now, blast it?!

Vythia stood to his left, watching as he tried again to comm someone – anyone. No one answered, and Hunter started to pace as he attempted to get through over and over. He couldn't tell how much of what he'd said to Crosshair had been heard, or if the sniper knew that Hunter was still on the second level, only two corridors away from where they'd been when they'd realized Tech was missing. Hunter didn't know if Wrecker had heard his orders to stay where he was. For all the sergeant knew, Wrecker and Quinlan were heading into the sixth level to look for Tech – or on their way back down here.

"Hunter?" Vythia asked.

"What?"

"How many times are you going to try contacting them?"

Hunter turned on his heel to face her. "What kind of a question is that?"

"A valid one." She tilted an eyebrow. "Just leave it on, in case one of them is able to get through."

"And what are we supposed to do until then, turn in circles?" Hunter pressed the palm of one hand to the wall, then the floor, but all he could sense were the heavy vibrations from the injured leviathan's rasping breaths.

"Hardly." Vythia tapped her fingers lightly against her whip hilt. "I think we should kill the leviathan. I suspect your teammates are being misled by it."

Hunter froze in place, remembering the strange screams that he could hear but not feel. "You think they are – Vythia, why didn't you mention that before?"

"Because I only just thought of it."

"But –" He stared at her. That meant they could keep wandering in circles until the storm let up, and it was nineteen hundred hours already. Even without the storm, they would have barely an hour of daylight left. With the storm, it might as well be night.

"We will be trapped here overnight," Vythia stated casually. "Unless you decide you'd rather go back to the Marauder now."

"I'm not leaving until I've found the others." Hunter pulled off his helmet and clipped it to his belt, frowning suspiciously at her calm expression. "And neither are you, Vythia."

"I would not do so." She fingered her knife. "And I certainly did not think you would. But we cannot just stand here."

"I know." Hunter ran both hands through his hair, tugging slightly at it. "We can't stay here, and we can't keep wandering around. You're right, Vythia. We're going to have to try killing that thing."

"We will have to do more than try." Vythia drew her knife, studied the gleaming blade for an instant, and then reached into her satchel to withdraw a second knife.

Hunter stepped forward and examined it. Quinlan had been right. It was the knife that had been in the chest on the Phoenix – he recognized it from the picture Tech had taken of the drawing. The runes glittered down the center, seeming somehow alive, and Hunter glanced up at Vythia, waiting for an explanation.

"A ceremonial blade I found some time ago," she explained dismissively. "Who knows – it might be more effective than a vibroblade, or even the knife I have been using."

"It might." Hunter slipped his helmet on again. "And it might also be something we don't want to use."

"Oh?" Her eyes gleamed with interest. "Why do you say that, Hunter?"

"It's –" He didn't really understand how to explain, he just knew he suddenly did not want to use it . . . which was honestly pretty stupid. It was a knife, a weapon. He used knives all the time. Giving up, he said, "It's a Sith blade, right? And the leviathan's a Sith – creature."

"And?" Vythia started down the hall. "You think that Dark Side weaponry would not work well on Dark Side beings?"

"Yeah." Hunter checked his knife and blaster, even though they were probably both useless against the monster. "Am I wrong?"

"Not entirely." She smirked, seeming pleased for some reason, then glanced at his blaster. "Why don't you use your lightsaber?"

"I am going to use it." Hunter led the way down the next hall. "I'm just making sure my other weapons are ready."

"Just in case," she finished. "Yes."

Hunter could hear the leviathan breathing, but he couldn't hear anything from any of the others. It was normal for Hunter not to hear Crosshair until he was very close, but surely he'd hear Tech soon. Tech tripped over his own feet a lot.

"We might have trouble completing our goal," Vythia observed, coming to a halt at the intersection leading into the hallway where the leviathan lay.

"What gave you that idea?" Hunter demanded sarcastically. "The fact that we've had it so easy up to now, trying to kill it?"

She gave him a mildly disdainful look. "I mean that we might have more trouble completing our goal. I am beginning to suspect that this leviathan was one of Darth Traya's."

Honestly, Hunter was sick of hearing about the Sith. Every time Vythia or Quinlan told them about a Sith, the things they talked about got weirder and weirder.

"Darth Traya?" he repeated, dropping to one knee and reaching down. He brushed his fingers along the cool stone, but the vibrations were in exactly the same spot as before. The leviathan wasn't moving, except for its breathing. "You mentioned her earlier – something about a Sith Triumvirate."

"Yes. It was she who taught Sion and Nihilus their peculiar skills."

"Yeah." Hunter glanced impatiently at her. Despite its apparent weakness, the leviathan might decide to attack again at any moment. "Get to the point, Vythia."

"We already know this beast has Nihilus' ability to drain one of life."

"The Lord of Hunger. I remember."

"Traya's second apprentice was the Lord of Pain," she went on, infuriatingly calm. "He could forcibly heal the most fatal injuries he had received – even, on one occasion, after having his head nearly severed."

And that leviathan is healing itself. Hunter took a deep breath and shot an uneasy look at the end of the corridor. For some reason, he kept expecting the leviathan to come charging around the corner, black fangs bared.

"He clung to life by the force of his will," she went on. "When he died, it was because he chose to release his hold on the Dark Side –"

"Good for him," interrupted Hunter, touching the floor again.

"– thus reopening every injury he had healed with his own power over his lifetime," she finished, then raised an eyebrow at him as though criticizing his lack of patience.

Hunter hesitated, his imagination painting a vivid picture of what that must have looked like, then straightened and folded his arms. "Okay. So how do we convince that thing to release its hold on the Dark Side?"

". . . We cannot." Vythia rested her chin against one index finger and tilted her head thoughtfully.

Hunter stared at her for a long moment, resisted the impulse to hit the nearest wall, and instead tried again to comm one of the others. He gave up ten seconds later, but left the channel open. Vythia was still standing where she had been, her eyes distant.

Removing his helmet again, Hunter stood perfectly still and listened. He almost closed his eyes to aid his focus, but Vythia was right next to him. She hadn't made them follow her back into the academy, but she was the whole reason they were in Trayus again. The sergeant was almost sure he could trust Vythia not to stab him in the back, at least not while they had a common enemy, but that was about it.

Touching the wall beside him, Hunter held his breath and tried to sense everything he could. The leviathan's harsh, uneven breaths were mixed with the sound and feel of its scales rasping slowly against the stones as it tried to move. Vythia was utterly quiet, not even breathing, and he could feel – footsteps. Someone was coming down the stairs into the central room, and whoever it was moved like Wrecker. Hunter couldn't be sure, but it felt as though one more person was walking in step with Wrecker.

Hunter shifted, turning to catch Vythia's gaze. "Let's get to the central room."

She followed without asking why. As they dashed across the open hall, Hunter caught a brief glimpse of the leviathan's white head turning slowly in their direction, as though tracking their movement.

No sooner had Hunter and Vythia entered the central room than they caught sight of Quinlan and Wrecker, who were moving cautiously down the stairs as though expecting to be attacked at any instant. There was no sign of Tech or Crosshair.

When Quinlan caught sight of them, he hopped down the last couple steps and moved quickly towards them, while Wrecker shoved his helmet back on his head with a relieved whisper-shout. "Hunter! There you are."

Before Hunter could answer, Quinlan interrupted with a sharp, urgent motion of one arm. "Hunter, the leviathan – I think it's been making us hear things."

"Yeah, we gathered that," said Hunter. "Did you –"

"We kept hearing Tech, but we searched the whole main hallway and didn't . . . find him . . ." The Jedi's gaze flitted uncertainly from Hunter to Vythia and back, alarm registering in his eyes as he asked, "Where's Crosshair?"

"He went to look for Tech – he'd only disappeared one hallway back. I was in contact with him when the comms cut out."

"Oh, man!" Wrecker hissed. "Now Crosshair's gone, too?"

"He's probably still on this level, if he didn't pass you," Hunter said, then realized that, for whatever reason, Crosshair may very well have gone up one level – or even down one level.

Wrecker nodded, then said slowly, "Hunter, we really gotta take that leviathan out."

"That is exactly what we were about to attempt," Vythia told him. "But I do not believe we can actually kill it, not in a place such as this."

Quinlan and Wrecker shot each other confused looks.

"So what are our options?" Hunter asked, clenching one hand briefly at the thought of wandering around after false voices all night. "Ignore all the voices we hear? Chop the leviathan up into little pieces?"

Vythia actually rolled her eyes. "That would be too time-consuming."

"Then what do we do? Decapitate it and dump its head in a pit somewhere so it can't heal? Drag the whole monster to a – a Light Side area so it'll explode?"

Wrecker stared, mouth half open in surprise. "What are you talking about?"

Quinlan, though, was watching Vythia, the look in his eyes indicating that he understood. "It's too strong to kill while it's got a way to heal."

"And I doubt there is a Light Side area on Malachor," Vythia added.

Hunter jammed his helmet on again, coming to a decision. "Then we don't kill it. We look for the others, and get out of here as soon as we find 'em. The instant the storm lets up, we're taking off."

"Good idea," Wrecker said fervently.

"It is." Vythia blinked once. "Assuming, of course, that the storm lets up before the leviathan regains its strength and kills us all."

There was a brief silence. Hunter shook his head and turned to Quinlan. He was the Jedi, maybe he had something useful to add.

"She's right," Quinlan said, which was not what Hunter had wanted to hear. "We'll have a much better chance of finding the others if we can kill it."

Hunter narrowed his eyes, suddenly realizing that Quinlan must have no way of locating the others in the Force until the leviathan was dead.

"Yeah!" said Wrecker, digging through his pack. "And we don't know we can't kill it, right? Least we can try."

Hunter glanced around the room, hoping for some sort of clue that would lead him towards either Tech or Crosshair. There were none. He didn't know why he'd expected there would be.

"Wrecker?" he said, dumping his pack on the ground. "Gather every explosive we have left. We're going to shove 'em down that thing's throat and blow it to pieces."

"Whoa . . ." Sounding impressed, Wrecker obeyed, searching Hunter's pack. One after another, he set out the standard-issue breach charges and thermals that the sergeant carried and so infrequently used.

"Vythia, keep watch," Hunter ordered.

She nodded and stood close to the doorway the leviathan had gone through, gaze fixed on the hall outside.

"Quinlan," whispered Hunter. "If we can weaken this thing, can you use the Force to find Tech and Crosshair?"

"I'll try," he answered without hesitation. "But – no guarantees."

"Right." Hunter let out his breath. "If you can't find 'em, we'll go the slow route. I just hope it's not too slow."

"I know." Quinlan frowned. "You think something happened to them?"

"Yeah." Hunter eyed the small pile of explosives and wished he'd thought to bring more. "I don't know why else they wouldn't have come back. None of us could just get lost, not in a place like this."


Crosshair ran up the stairs to the sixth level, not pausing to check any of the others. He wondered why Tech had gone up here without notifying the rest of his teammates. Maybe he'd realized that Wrecker would have wanted to get as much distance between Quinlan and the leviathan as possible, and thus gone into the central room and headed upstairs.

Crosshair slung his rifle over one shoulder as he reached the top of the stairs. No one was in sight, or in the stairwell above him. After a moment's hesitation, Crosshair decided to take the lefthand corridor. He should have realized earlier that of course Wrecker would have gone up the stairs. It made the most sense; easier to gain distance by going up than by running through twists and turns. Despite the number of times Crosshair had called Wrecker an idiot, they both knew that Wrecker was very good at thinking on his feet.

If Wrecker had gone upstairs, hopefully the Jedi would be smart enough to stay upstairs. Crosshair was not optimistic about that.

For an instant, Crosshair thought he heard Wrecker's voice behind him, towards the stairs, but it cut off quickly. The next instant, he heard Wrecker shouting from ahead of him, and Crosshair gave his head an irritated shake. Karking leviathan.

There was still nothing to guide him; no tracks, no half-closed doors – everything was either closed, or opened. The closed doors he could probably rule out. He couldn't imagine anyone wanting to close a door behind them, not in this place. The doors seemed old and easy to move, but what if they couldn't be opened from the other side?

Tech definitely wouldn't close an unusual door behind him, not after the time on Kamino when he'd trapped himself in a storage closet while trying to escape Hunter, who'd been attempting to confiscate his datapad. Wrecker had laughed himself sick over that one, after Crosshair had been forced to cut through the old lock to release him.

When Crosshair caught himself smirking a little at the memory, he stopped instantly. He hadn't decided which of the voices to follow yet, or if he should ignore them both. Maybe he should check the stairwell again, in case Wrecker and Quinlan were heading down now. But when he did, there was no one was in the stairwell; maybe they were still wandering around on this level, trying to find –

"Tech!" yelled Quinlan's voice.

Crosshair hesitated again. He couldn't tell if it was really Quinlan or not. If it were Quinlan, he might answer, though.

"Quinlan!" he shouted. "Where are you?"

There was a brief, almost surprised pause, then – "Crosshair?"

The call came from up ahead and to the right, and the sniper broke into a sprint, dashing down the green-lit hallway and passing door after open door. Someone had been through here, searching already; Crosshair felt vaguely relieved that Wrecker and Quinlan were still on the sixth level – even though that meant they probably hadn't found Tech yet.

He tried to comm Hunter as he ran, but got no response, and when he slid to a stop at the end of the next hall, he realized that he'd been wrong about the voice yet again. Quinlan wasn't there, and neither was Wrecker. If they had heard him, they would have stayed where they were – wouldn't they? So either they had moved, or Crosshair was still being misled, and so were they.

And now, he had no idea what to do. He could keep walking through the sixth level, hoping that eventually he would come across Tech or Wrecker or Quinlan. He could go back down and try to find Hunter and Vythia. But any of them could be on any of the levels now, from the second all the way to the seventh – even the ground floor couldn't be excluded, if someone had followed the different calls downstairs.

And we said we weren't going to spend another night in Trayus, he thought, abruptly realizing that it was past nineteen hundred. By now, with the storm, it would be pitch black outside, except for the glowing green of the dioxis fields.

But they couldn't leave until they were back together. Crosshair set off again at a run, intending to head to the central room and check if anyone was at the stairs yet. He was halfway down the corridor when, from up ahead, he heard footsteps. He froze, one hand inching towards his rifle. The footsteps were too loud to be Quinlan's or Tech's, and too slow to be Wrecker's – much too slow and deliberate.

As he listened, he realized there was something wrong with how slow and even the footfalls were.

Crosshair started to get his rifle, then changed his mind and drew his pistol. Ducking against the nearest doorway, he watched the end of the hall.

A sibilant, hoarse voice muttered something, paused, then rasped another phrase and fell silent. Crosshair couldn't make out the words. He wanted to run, but couldn't seem to make himself move from the half-protection of the doorway. There was something here, just beyond the end of the hall, and if he ran it would see him.

A dark figure came slowly into view, pacing laboriously across the narrow end of the corridor. The flickering white light from the lanterns didn't really seem to touch it, but the form faded in and out as it traveled from the shadows to the light and back.

The light makes it fade, Crosshair realized, and pressed himself harder against the door frame. It was an illusion. Just a – visible – illusion.

The dark figure turned towards him, growing clearer as it left the white lanterns' range of light and entered the green lanterns' range instead.

Crosshair stared, fingers aching as he clenched them around his pistol. The illusion was of a male Twi'lek in a black, sleeveless, gold-edged tunic that hung down around his knees. His face and bare arms and shoulders and legs were a solid blood-red, and his clawed hands dangled limply at his sides as he continued to wander forward, turning his head slightly first one way, then the other. Two strangely long, thin lekku trailed over his chest and down to the ground, dragging a little on the floor.

Crosshair's heart started to pound. Darth Ghant – it was an illusion of Ghant –

Darth Ghant paused, angling his head weirdly to the left, and said, "You have – now earned –" The hissing voice gurgled, then went on weakly. "– the title of . . . Mas . . . ter."

The voice died away, but Ghant's expression never changed. A short beat later, he closed his mouth, straightened his head, and resumed his slow, deliberate pacing towards Crosshair's hiding place.

Crosshair wavered, wanting to fire at the illusion, but unwilling to draw attention to himself. His pulse pounded in his stomach, and the inside of his hands were damp against the wall and the pistol.

Ghant was drawing closer. Shooting him wouldn't do anything, Crosshair knew it – but the next instant, unable to stand without fighting any longer, he jerked his pistol up and fired twice. The lasers flashed through the illusion's left eye and flew down the corridor to strike the wall. Ghant's pace didn't falter in the slightest. He just kept walking towards Crosshair, head still angling slightly from one side to the other as though he were constantly observing everyone around him, even though there was nothing to be seen.

Run, idiot, Crosshair snapped to himself. Get out of here, it's an illusion, it won't follow you –

Ghant stopped again, tilting his head to the left. "You have – now earned . . . the title of . . . Mas . . . ter."

Crosshair backed away, left hand braced against the wall as he tried to get out of the corridor without losing sight of Ghant. He had to get to the stairway and head back down, find the others. There were probably other illusions wandering around now – maybe because it was after nightfall, whatever difference that made to the inside of the academy –

The already loud footsteps suddenly seemed much too loud, and Crosshair froze, ice prickling over his skin as a voice sounded behind him.

"You have – now earned . . . the title of . . . Mas . . . ter."

Crosshair turned slowly, backing against the side of the corridor – and jumped so badly he nearly dropped his pistol. An identical illusion was standing not a meter away, head angled to the left, staring at nothing. The next moment, the second Ghant closed his mouth, straightened his head, and took a step forward. Crosshair dodged to one side. The first illusion was approaching from the right, the second from his left, and he did not want them to walk through him – he didn't want to touch them.

He took a step to the right, trying to let the first one walk past him, only to realize that the left one would walk through him if he did that. When his fingers bumped against an open doorway, he stepped backwards through it, keeping his left hand stretched out behind him.

The illusions paused together in front of the door, facing in opposite directions as they spoke together. Crosshair backed up another pace – they were too close to him. He could have reached out and touched them, which meant they could reach out and touch him.

Then the two illusions turned abruptly to face him, heads tilting in opposite directions so that they were both looking right at and through him.

Crosshair stared back at them, heart hammering in the pit of his stomach – and a door slammed down from the ceiling in front of him with a crash! and hit the ground, cutting off every flicker of light from the green lanterns outside.

For a long, long moment Crosshair didn't move or even breathe. He couldn't.

The footsteps of the illusions sounded again, this time fading away in opposite directions until everything was silent.

Crosshair's pistol slipped from his fingers and clunked to the floor The noise jolted him out of his shock, and he flung himself forward, throwing himself against the stone door in an attempt to move it, jamming his fingers against the door's edges, jerking at where the stone of the door met the wall, the floor . . .

It didn't budge. Not a glimmer of light shone through the cracks. He needed to see, he had to see –

His sweaty fingers slipped a little on the tiny flashlight he kept on his belt, but at last he managed to unclip it and turn it on. The bright, quavering light danced over the door from top to bottom, but there was no release, no handle, not even a lock. For an instant he focused the beam of light on the opening in the ceiling from which the door had fallen. Nothing.

Trembling all over, Crosshair pressed his comm. No signal, no glitch or crackling of static – nothing.

He didn't want to turn around, to see how small the room was. Already, there was no air, and it had only been a minute.

There is air, there has to be, it can't have run out that fast . . . Internally, he knew it only felt like there was no air because he was panicking. But knowing it didn't help in the slightest.

Dropping the flashlight to the floor beside him, Crosshair flung himself again at the unyielding stone and slammed both fists against it. The dull thud didn't reverberate. No one would hear him, unless they were right outside – and why would they be?

With a breathless gasp, Crosshair returned to dragging his fingers over the edges of the stone, searching for a catch or lever of some kind. There had to be a way to open the door, it had been open before – maybe he'd stepped on something that closed it.

But the stone floor was smooth, everywhere he'd been standing; there was no hidden trigger or release on the floor or the doorframe or the door itself that would have made the stone snap down like that . . . The illusions must have closed the door, they had trapped him.

Crosshair stumbled back and dropped to his knees, shaking so hard he felt sick. He braced one hand against the ground and struggled to take a deep breath. He had to be able to think, he had to find a way out, there had to be a way to get out, there had to be –

His chest ached hollowly from his rapid, shallow breaths, but he couldn't seem to slow down. Mind racing, he fumbled for the flashlight, knowing he had to look at the rest of the room. Maybe there was another door, one he could force open –

He dragged himself unsteadily to his feet, using the frame of the door for support, then turned. The ceiling was high above him, and he could make out another wall, six meters away.

Crosshair raised the flashlight. Red and yellow gleamed in the sudden brightness, and the sniper sank back against the wall, cold sweat breaking out across his forehead and neck as he stared. Darth Ghant's body was sitting on his throne, head resting gently against his left lekku as he stared vacantly at Crosshair.