As Vythia led the way toward the towering pillar, Quinlan slowed his pace, falling back to walk between Crosshair and Hunter. Lowering his voice to a near-whisper, he said, "She seems very confident."

"I noticed," said Hunter. "Almost like she's been here before."

"Maybe she has, and she lied to us," Quinlan said. "Or she really trusts whatever source gave her the information on how to get inside the labyrinth . . ."

He watched Vythia as she spoke with Tech. When Tech pointed something out on his datapad, she nodded, one fake eyebrow quirking with interest.

"How far in will we be going?" Crosshair asked, speaking for the first time since they'd landed.

Quinlan eyed him curiously. "I've got literally no idea. Why do you ask?"

The sniper shrugged.

As Vythia and Tech reached the pillar, Hunter said, "I don't see an entrance."

"It's probably hidden," Wrecker said with a shrug.

"Yeah . . ." The sergeant glanced at the barren wasteland around them. "Once she gets it open, we should probably leave someone on guard outside."

"Here?" The Jedi shook his head. "Not unless we have no other option."

"But you told us there's nothing alive here," Hunter said.

"I – yeah, I don't really know that for sure. That's just what the legends say."

As they stopped beside the others, Vythia tilted her head. "What do the legends say, Quinlan?"

"Just . . . uh, the thing about Darth Tanis and everyone on Malachor dying . . . You called it the Great Scourge, I think."

"That was no legend," she said, running her fingers at eye-level along the rough stone of the pillar. Ash crumbled from the surface, revealing carved glyphs, and she leaned closer to study them.

When a few moments had passed, Tech said, "What are you looking for?"

"The entrance." The Nautolan woman touched one of the blackened symbols. "The key lies in these glyphs. It might take me a while to locate the right ones."

"Where is the entrance, anyway?" Hunter asked.

"Directly in front of you." She nodded at the pillar. "The door will not open until the proper symbols are activated."

Wrecker tapped the hidden door with the back of one gauntlet, then shoved his helmet back on his head. "Well, you don't need to worry about that. Bet I could blow it open, no problem!"

"No." Vythia shot him a displeased look. "You could – brute strength would work, but there is no need to destroy these ancient buildings."

Wrecker stepped back with a disappointed shrug. "Well, I don't see any buildings."

Ignoring his comment, she continued to clear the crusted ash from the obelisk.

Quinlan moved away and paced in a wide circle around the pillar as he lowered his Force-shield, just enough that he could send his thoughts out and downward. Contrary to his expectations, the labyrinth felt surprisingly neutral; it was dark, but not more so than the rest of Malachor.

When he looked up again, it was to see that Crosshair was wandering along nearby, rifle pointed at the ground. The other three commandos were grouped around the pillar, where a faint flicker of blue caught Quinlan's attention. One of the symbols was glowing.

"Guess this place has a power source somewhere," he commented, falling into step beside the sniper.

Crosshair didn't answer.

The vast silence of the planet seemed more weighted, now that they were farther from the Marauder. Casting an uneasy glance behind himself, Quinlan kept talking. "Well, that, or it's something weird and Sith-related."

The sniper finally looked at him, expression unreadable behind his helmet. "The artifact Vythia's after – can you feel it from here?"

"No. It's like trying to see something black in the dark. This whole area feels almost as shadowed as that one spirit urn did, but not as focused."

By the time the two of them had made a complete circle around the pillar, five of the glyphs were glimmering blue, easily visible despite the pale daylight. Tech was taking notes on the glyphs, leaning so close to the obelisk as he studied them that his nose nearly touched the stone. Hunter hovered behind him, alternately watching his teammates, Vythia, and their surroundings, while Wrecker rocked back and forth on his heels, arms locked behind his back.

Quinlan wondered how many of the inset carvings Vythia would need to activate. It might be a while yet before she got the door to open. He said as much, more to himself than to Crosshair, and the sniper cast a brief look at the obelisk. He seemed almost nervous.

Well, Quinlan couldn't blame him. He himself had been uneasy since they'd first laid eyes on the planet. . . Maybe the legends are right, and it is cursed, Quinlan thought, a little wryly. Drawing a slow breath, he quieted his mind, building up his shields until they canceled out the darkness.

He and Crosshair had walked another full circle by the time Wrecker jogged over to join them and said, "Vythia says she's got only two more to find."

"Oh, good," said Quinlan, turning back to join the others.

"Good?" Crosshair muttered. "You want to get into the labyrinth?"

"I mean, yeah? Not that the local flora aren't interesting, but . . ."

"What flora?" Wrecker snorted, kicking at the ground. A plume of dust drifted into the air and settled slowly. "This whole planet's nothing but ash!"

"Not the whole planet," Vythia said. She turned to face him, two of her fingers resting on an unlit glyph. "Just this area of it. Quinlan, tell me – what do you think of Malachor?"

Why does she keep singling me out? "What do I think of Malachor?" he mused, raising an eyebrow. "Hmm . . . Well, between the grey, featureless dirt and the occasional shipwrecks, I'd say it's got the potential to be a real tourist attraction."

Hunter cast him an amused look, and Wrecker snorted, but Vythia continued to watch him unblinkingly for a long moment. She seemed to be studying him, or waiting for him to say something particular.

Shrugging, Quinlan folded his arms. "What is there to think about it, Vythia? It's a dead world in the middle of an uncharted system. I mean, it's ancient and more than a little creepy, so I guess there's that . . ."

Her eyes gleamed briefly. "You are afraid of it?"

"Of Malachor?" He scoffed. "Right, like a dead planet could actually do anything."

She eyed him a moment longer. Then, with a faint smile, she turned to press the last glyph. It sank a centimeter into the obelisk and lit up as the others had. All the symbols flashed once, then faded.

Nothing else happened for several long seconds, until Hunter took a step back, staring at the blank face of the pillar. "I think it's moving . . ."

There was a tangible shift around them. A large panel of stone dropped, disappearing into a slot in the ground, and slammed dully to a stop. A wave of cool air and a whisper of darkness brushed across Quinlan's face, then faded.

Leaning forward, Wrecker said, "Uh, there's a stairway going down, but I don't see anything else."

"Get out the lanterns," Hunter ordered. "Vythia?"

"I'll go first," she said easily. "The artifact should be within a kilometer of the door."

"What even is this artifact?" Tech asked, untwisting his collapsible lantern.

The Nautolan woman, already several steps down, spoke over her shoulder. "It is a scepter which belonged to Lord Dagoth."

Wrecker followed close behind her, holding the second lantern over his head. "Was he a Sith?"

"Oh, yes." Her laugh floated back up to Quinlan. "Everyone on Malachor was either a Sith, or served the Sith . . . or became a Sith."

"Everyone?" Tech asked curiously, then caught himself against the wall as he tripped on the third step.

The way Hunter steadied him, then slipped past him to walk in front, looked almost automatic.

"I am sure there were some who did not convert," Vythia said. "But no one knows about them, now."

And isn't that a comforting thought. Quinlan stood in the entrance, staring after Wrecker, Hunter and Tech as they followed Vythia.

"You heading in?" Crosshair asked from beside him.

"Yeah, I'm just waiting for you." He lowered his voice. "If there are traps, they'll most likely be sprung from behind. I'm best equipped to deal with them."

Crosshair nodded and stepped forward, but then paused on the door sill, resting a hand on the side of the doorframe.

The sergeant, who was twenty steps down by now, halted. He and Tech both looked back. "Crosshair?" said Hunter. "Come on, this shouldn't take us long."

After a moment more of hesitation, and without looking at Quinlan, the sniper slung his rifle over one shoulder and ducked into the entrance.

Quinlan followed. The faint sunlight that filtered through the thick clouds and down the narrow stairwell faded quickly. Within seconds, only the yellow light from the lanterns was left to war with the shadows cast by the explorers. The walls were bone-dry, smooth, and utterly free of dust.

"These steps are in good condition," Hunter said softly, as though to fill the sudden silence.

"They were cut directly out of the stone," Vythia replied. "Ah – here is the corridor."

One by one, they reached the stairway's end and gathered in a half-circle on the landing. The corridor went for many meters in either direction; the hall to the right had dozens of dark doorways, while the one to the left had only a single, sealed door at the far end.

Tech looked up from his scanner. "I have a basic schematic of the area. Which way are we headed?"

The Nautolan woman pointed at the left hallway. "This way leads to the entrance of the labyrinth."

"Huh." Quinlan wandered over to her. "Let me guess: the artifact is in the labyrinth itself, not in one of these rooms."

"You are correct."

"Okay, but if you know this . . . why'd you need me along again?"

"The Prince wanted the scepter. It is the only artifact here that I know of; if we can find any others, it would be good – but not required. We have other destinations apart from this place."

Quinlan felt his mind go blank for an instant, but he kept his tone light. "So, what, you stopped at this labyrinth first because it was the closest?"

"That, among other reasons," she said. "Perhaps you should explore some of the rooms in the other hall while I get the scepter."

How many artifacts is she after? Quinlan wondered, concerned. And where exactly are we going to be looking for them?

Vythia turned to the commandos. "Two of you can accompany me while two accompany Quinlan Vos."

"Hold on," said Hunter, stepping forward. "You and Quinlan can do what you want, Vythia, but I lead my team. And I don't like the idea of splitting up."

She inclined her head, unconcerned. "Then decide whether you wish to come with Quinlan or myself. But I doubt I will need your help here. Quinlan, see what you can find."

Drawing her knife, she walked off. As she got farther away, Hunter whispered, "Vos, want us to split up?"

"Yeah." The Jedi pulled his mind back to the moment at hand. "I think we should keep eyes on her."

"Right." Hunter tapped Tech's arm. "Come on, let's go with Vythia. Wrecker, Crosshair, stay with Quinlan. Keep your eyes open."

"Got it," said Crosshair.

"Okay. Ten minute check-ins." He ran to catch up with Tech and Vythia.

Quinlan stared after them, then turned unwillingly into the opposite hallway as his two companions followed behind him.

The Nautolan woman had barely touched the tall door when it swung open instantly, letting out a draft of warm, stale air.

Clipping his helmet to his belt, Hunter shifted in front of Tech and glanced into the room. There was nothing in sight, apart from a few solid stone platforms and a second door in the opposite wall.

Tech put his datapad away and entered the room, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at the stone tables that were spaced at even intervals around the room. "Those look like crypts."

"They are," said Vythia, already opening the second door. "Dagoth's servants were buried with him."

"How do you know that?" Tech hurried to catch up with her. "I was unable to find any records about the inhabitants of Malachor."

She glanced at him, then led the way down a narrow tunnel. "There are plenty of records, though they are not easy to find. The history of Malachor is, for the most part, forbidden knowledge."

The stone walls brushed at Hunter's arms as he walked through the down-sloping corridor, and he turned a bit sideways, so as to move more easily. Just as well I left Crosshair and Wrecker back in the corridor . . .

As they continued to walk, Hunter kept a sharp lookout. He couldn't see more than a couple meters ahead of him – the passage turned at right angles every few steps and continued to descend. Well, he had other tools at his disposal. In a place as empty as this, it was possible Hunter could use his modifications to sense people as well as droids – not that he expected to find either. Putting a hand on Tech's arm, he closed his eyes, allowing Tech to guide him.

He could sense only himself, Tech, and Vythia. Despite knowing that the others weren't that far away, distance-wise, he couldn't sense them at all. It was like they simply weren't there. The amount of stone surrounding them probably didn't help matters.

Then Tech stopped walking, and Hunter opened his eyes to see that Vythia was turned halfway toward them, one hand raised in a silent command to halt.

Hunter drew his knife.

"There is no threat," Vythia said calmly. "I will enter this room alone. Wait here."

She vanished into an even narrower opening in the wall beside her, and Tech raised the lantern he held, peering into the opening.

Hunter watched over Tech's shoulder as Vythia stopped before a wide stone shelf and picked up a long, narrow object. "You found it?" he asked.

"Yes." She ran her fingers gently along the scepter's length. "We can return to the others now."

Hunter stepped aside to let her pass. He couldn't help but feel as though getting the scepter had been much too easy. He and his squad and Quinlan had just spent the last six days planning and preparing for this? If all the artifacts were this easy to find . . .

The sergeant raised a mental eyebrow at himself. It wasn't that he would complain about a lack of danger – this mission had already been plenty dangerous. Still, after all the buildup of the days on Nar Shaddaa, he'd expected some sort of obstacle in their path. They hadn't even had to blow through a door to reach the scepter. Come to think of it, there hadn't even been a door directly in front of it.

Tech's mind seemed to be working along the same lines. "Why was the scepter unguarded, Vythia?" he asked. "If it is a valuable artifact . . . Well, no; perhaps it was not valuable at the time it was placed here?"

"You are correct." With a faint smile, Vythia glanced over her shoulder. "This scepter would not have been considered in the least valuable at the time Dagoth was buried. Lord Dagoth was not powerful – a mere pawn in the hands of the true Lords of the Sith."

Well . . . at least that explained the ease with which they'd entered this so-called labyrinth. Hunter turned the corner after her. "Then what's the labyrinth for?"

"Dagoth is not the only Sith buried here. There are nine, perhaps ten; they all share this burial place."

"That is unusual," Tech observed. "In most of the cultures I've researched, only family members are buried together."

"That is the case here," she said. "Lord Dagoth, his son, his sister and her husband, and their sons and daughters."

"Not his wife?" Hunter asked, curious.

"No. Dagoth's wife and daughter betrayed him to his enemies in hopes of forming an alliance with another, more powerful, house. When Dagoth emerged victorious despite their plotting, he executed them and scattered their ashes."

Tech looked up with a surprised blink and a frown.

Hunter had seen and heard about a lot of barbaric acts, especially since entering the war, but something about the casual way Vythia talked about the Sith Lord's actions put him on edge. He hummed disapprovingly. "And you say Dagoth was just a pawn."

"Oh, he was. In the end, he proved to be so worthless that his own masters had the entire family put to death."

Tech sniffed. "It is no wonder that the Sith were often defeated, if they spent their time killing each other off."

"Such customs certainly had their downsides," Vythia agreed as they entered the main corridor. "Ah – it appears that Quinlan managed to open one of these doors."

Hunter glanced at her. The woman's expression was neutral, but her tone of voice indicated that she was strangely pleased.

Quinlan wandered from one side of the room to the other, restless, while Crosshair hovered near the door.

Wrecker stared at the flat-topped tomb they'd found. "You're saying these guys spent half their lives building their tombs?"

"Well – more like they spent half their lives having their tombs built, depending on how powerful and rich they were . . . but essentially, yeah."

Wrecker pushed his helmet back on his head, his good eye gleaming in the lantern light. "That doesn't make sense."

"Nope." Quinlan stopped in the center of the floor and folded his arms. "And just a quick heads-up – the Sith don't make any sense."

"Well, yeah, but . . ."

Crosshair gestured with his rifle. "Why are we standing around? There's nothing here apart from the crypt."

"I know, but this is the only door that would open. Let's wait here for Vythia."

"What for?"

"She might want to open the tomb."

"What?" The sniper stared at him. "Why would anyone open it?"

"Because it might have something semi-valuable buried with whoever ended up here."

"Oh boy . . ." Wrecker stepped away from the crypt. "Well, I'm not opening it!"

"None of us are," said Quinlan. "Unless Vythia decides to, but that's her problem."

"You think the lid might be trapped?" asked Crosshair.

"I have no idea." Quinlan kept his arms folded, hands tucked against his sides. "And I don't intend to find out. How long until our ten minutes are up?"

"Still three to go," said Crosshair.

Less than a minute later, there was the soft sound of footsteps from outside, and Vythia entered the room, followed by Hunter and Tech. She smiled and lifted a long, thin object that glinted dully in the light from Wrecker's lantern.

Quinlan raised an eyebrow. That was fast. "You found the scepter."

"I did." She held it out. "Would you like to see it?"

"Uh, no, thanks, I can see it fine from here."

"Very well." For some reason, her eyes glinted in amusement. "And what did you discover, Quinlan?"

"A tomb. Which I did not open."

Hunter, whose helmet hung from his fingers, looked surprised. "Why would you open a tomb?"

"For several reasons." Tech stepped past him to observe the crypt. "The most common one is that there might be a valuable artifact buried with the tomb's occupant."

Quinlan frowned at Tech's choice of words. As a Jedi, he wasn't superstitious, per se, but . . . Yeah, 'occupant' is not the word I'd have chosen. Too accurate.

"Do you want me to scan it?" Tech asked, approaching the crypt.

"No need," said Vythia. "There is an easier way. Quinlan, if you would use your psychometry on the crypt itself . . .?"

Quinlan didn't answer for several seconds. He could touch it without actively using his psychometry and pretend he'd seen that there was nothing, but . . . He had the strangest feeling that Vythia already knew what the tomb contained. Maybe she'd found some of those ancient parchment records that were so rare. It would make sense. She'd certainly had an easy enough time getting past the glyphs and finding the scepter.

He met Vythia's gaze, well aware that she was watching him like a hawk. This is some sort of test . . . Wish I knew what kind. Not having to feign his hesitance, Quinlan raised an eyebrow. "Fine, but there had better not be traps."

Quinlan glanced at Hunter, who shook his head once. Of course, the Jedi hadn't expected that there would be any still-active electronic traps, not after so long, but it never hurt to check. And he sensed no immediate threat from the Force, either . . . key word being

'immediate'.

Taking a deep breath, the Kiffar approached the crypt, rested his hand on the faded engravings, and shut his eyes. The memories came in flickers, as though from an old, corrupted recording.

. . . A humanoid girl with black markings on her red skin, standing before the tomb with her arms folded over her chest . . . Warring hope and desperation . . . The knowing sneer on the girl's face as she pointed a finger at the empty crypt. He was surrounded by stone. Utter terror and despair . . . A flashing knife – cold pain and his own choking cries, his voice frail and old – The stone lid slamming over him –

Opening his eyes with a jolt, Quinlan jerked back and bumped into Wrecker, who steadied him. "Quinlan?" he asked. "What happened?"

"She – ordered her slave into the tomb," he said. "Then killed him."

"A slave . . . then there is likely no need for us to open it," said Vythia, blinking in that thoughtful way that all Nautolans seemed to have. "Let us return to the surface. We will make our way to the next destination by midday."

She left the room, but the commandos hesitated, waiting for Quinlan. He put a hand to his own chest and glanced down. There was no blood. Of course there wasn't.

"Quinlan?"

The Jedi glanced up at Hunter. "Yeah?"

The sergeant glanced from one side to the other, like he was trying to read something, then said, "Was it . . . like the urn?"

"No – no, nothing like that. I didn't touch an artifact, just a tomb. And it wasn't even the tomb of a Sith. It just caught me off-guard."

As Crosshair and Tech left the room, Quinlan put his hand on the engraved words again, this time without opening his mind to the past, and hoped that the poor man had found peace in the Force. At least he had been killed quickly, and hadn't been buried and left to suffocate . . . Shaking off a phantom chill, Quinlan glanced at Wrecker and Hunter and gestured to the door. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

As they returned to the surface, leaving the mostly-unexplored labyrinth behind them, Hunter thought through everything he'd learned about Malachor that might help them in their mission. There wasn't much. Despite the fact that he'd seen a floating graveyard, a wrecked cruiser, and part of a series of tombs, he really didn't know anything about Malachor or about the mission they'd embarked on.

His squad mates were silent, as was the Jedi. Vythia wandered along a short distance away, her attention focused on the plain-looking scepter.

When they reached the shuttles, Hunter turned to the woman. "Vythia, how many of these artifacts are we going after?"

Moving just her eyes, she glanced up at him. "Why do you wish to know now?"

"I don't like how little I really know about this mission."

"Hmm . . . And yet you signed up for it all the same."

Hunter took a step closer. "At the time, I was under the impression that you knew as little as the rest of us did."

"And now?" She raised an amused eyebrow.

"Now, it seems to me that you know more than you should."

"Ah." She handed the scepter to Wrecker, who took it automatically, and folded her arms. "Let me reassure you then, Hunter. I knew how to get inside the labyrinth, and where the artifact was, but I know very little about the remainder of our destinations . . . perhaps as little as you do. The Prince was most interested in obtaining this artifact – he would be, since it was the one we could be sure was still where it had been buried. But as far as I am concerned, the scepter was a mere detour on our way to locate other, more powerful artifacts."

"Right." Hunter tilted his head. "How is that reassuring?"

The Nautolan woman blinked once. "You were concerned by the fact that I know so much more than you do, at least about this particular tomb."

Well . . . that, among other things. Hunter nodded. "Okay, what about our next destination?"

"I know its location and its general layout – if we presume the records I have are accurate. The Adas Academy was of relatively minor importance, despite its name."

Tech looked up from his datapad. "What does its name have to do with it?"

"Adas was a Sith'ari," she said, as though that should explain everything.

Tech lifted a hand, ready to ask another question, and Hunter interrupted. "Does this academy have any known dangers?"

"As I said," she replied, reaching for the scepter. "I know as little as you do. I will lead the way there, if you are ready to start."

Hunter held her gaze for a moment, then nodded. "Okay. One more question: how many of these places will we be visiting?"

She gave an elegant shrug. "I had only planned to visit four . . . Though that might change, should I discover the whereabouts of other treasures."

The Jedi, who had been surprisingly quiet this whole time, walked over and stood between them. "If you're after treasures, why don't we just systematically comb a city or something?"

"For two very good reasons," she said. "Firstly, because very few cities remain standing. Secondly, because raiders have been coming here for millennia, taking away everything of value that was within easy reach."

"Ah. Thus why we're visiting underground places. The raiders probably couldn't get in those easily."

"No, and they wouldn't dare to," she answered. "There are many superstitions regarding the Sith. . . and many strange secrets. Shall we?"

"Yeah, let's get started." Hunter led the team back to the Marauder, leaving Vythia to bring the scepter back to the Phoenix.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Quinlan said, "Well – no casualties yet."

"Hm." Hunter set his gun on the weapons rack. "No enemies yet, either."

"No," agreed Tech. "That expedition was informative in one way, but it was hardly dangerous."

The Jedi paused mid-stretch to raise an eyebrow at him. "I feel like you shouldn't sound disappointed by that."

"Not disappointed," said Crosshair, in a voice that implied the exact opposite.

"Well, I am!" Wrecker cracked his knuckles loudly. "We're good at dealing with dangerous stuff."

"Uh-huh."

"We are," said Tech matter-of-factly, taking the pilot's chair. "I, however, was merely noting that after all of our preparations to get here, it will be strange if it turns out that our presence is not needed."

"The thought had crossed my mind," Hunter admitted, stepping aside to let Crosshair co-pilot. "Still – we could do with a bit of a break after Nar Shaddaa. Better a safe and boring mission than an overwhelming one."

Crosshair glanced up at him, amused. "You don't really think that."

". . . Yes, I do."

The sniper smirked.

"I do," insisted Hunter. Glancing around at the coolly disbelieving looks he was receiving from his three brothers, he sighed. "You guys act like I like danger."

Wrecker chortled. "Well, yeah!"

"Of course," Tech added. "It is, after all, in our job description."

"We don't have a job description," said Hunter, surprised at Tech's sudden decision to be inaccurate.

"If we did, the word 'danger' would be in it," Crosshair said.

"More specifically," interjected Tech, starting the engines, "the words 'Hunter actively seeks out danger' would be in it."

Quinlan let out a snort of laughter. "Wow."

Rolling his eyes, Hunter flicked Tech on the back of the head. "I do not, and you know it. Now get this ship moving."

Every so often, usually after a mission, Hunter's batch mates had a mutual 'team up on the sarge' moment. These moments, if he didn't put a quick stop to them, could extend for hours.

Since Hunter didn't feel like dealing with their nonsense, he cleared his throat and turned to the Jedi. "Any ideas what the scepter is for?"

"Not really, beyond the obvious. I presume that once Vythia brings it to the Prince, he'll sell it to Dooku, who will then either sell or give it to Darth Sidious."

"Probably." Hunter watched the receding ground. "I was thinking more along the lines of 'what can the scepter do'? Vythia said it wasn't valuable even at the time it was buried."

Quinlan nodded. "I couldn't feel it even as strongly as the spirit urn. The scepter's probably got monetary value nowadays, but only because it's a Sith artifact."

"So we don't have to worry about it being close by."

"No. In fact –" The Jedi closed his eyes and tilted his head. "I'd be willing to bet Vythia put it in some sort of Force-neutralizing area or container. I can't even feel it."

"Oh!" said Tech, releasing the steering yoke as he reached for his datapad.

With a sniff, Crosshair took over piloting.

"What is it?" Vos asked.

"Well . . ." Tech scrolled rapidly through pages of data. "While researching the Jedi, I did come across a reference to creatures that can produce a 'bubble' in the Force. . . Ah, here. They are called ysalamiri."

"Yep." Quinlan leaned past Hunter to glance at the image – several small, lizard-like creatures with green or brown scales. "They can't negate the Force itself, though. What they do is suppress it."

"Why?" asked Wrecker, peering suspiciously at the image.

Quinlan shrugged. "It's a natural defensive system. They're native to Myrkr, and the top predators on that planet are vornskrs. Those things are Force-sensitive – put a Jedi in the middle of the jungle, and he'll be attacked within a minute."

Hunter looked up, intrigued. "But the ysalamiri can suppress the Force, so the vornskrs can't sense them."

"Right. They're forced to hunt them by sight, or go after easier prey. Just about anything's easier to catch than a ysalamiri. They live on olbio trees, and good luck tearing one off without killing it. Not that the vornskrs are worried about that, obviously . . ."

Tech tapped at his datapad again. "Ysalamiri are tenacious. The article where they are referenced indicates that one of the lightsaber forms was named after them."

"Yeah. Makashi – the Way of the Ysalamiri. Elegant, precise, and tenacious. Count Dooku is a master of it . . . So is Shaak Ti."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You guys probably met her, right?"

"Well, yeah!" Wrecker answered. "But we never saw her use her lightsaber."

"Not surprising. She's not one for showing off."

"Unlike some," said Crosshair, his sharp glance taking in both Quinlan and Hunter.

"We didn't know you were there," protested Quinlan, folding his arms.

"Yeah . . ." Hunter gave Crosshair an unamused look. "Besides you're one to talk . . ."

Smirking, the sniper turned his attention back to piloting.

"Anyway." The Jedi tapped the image on the datapad. "I doubt Vythia has a ysalamiri in her ship. They're nearly impossible to keep alive away from their trees."

"But you think she has some sort of container that can – suppress – the Force," Hunter said.

"It's not unlikely."

Nodding, the sergeant shifted to watch the scorched ground passing beneath them. He hadn't seen any bodies of water yet, but surely there had to be some left, unless the weather patterns had been so disrupted that it no longer rained on this planet.

Casting a look up at the thick, roiling clouds, he discarded that idea.

The silence was broken by Tech, who finally stopped reading and looked up. "Quinlan, the vornskrs also seem to have a lightsaber form named after them. The Way of the Vornskr."

"Yep. Form Seven, also known as the Form of Ferocity. Master Windu recently refined it into what he calls Vaapad . . ."

As he continued talking, Tech swiveled the pilot's seat to face him, completely forgetting that he was supposed to be flying. Crosshair pretended to be disinterested in the conversation, his gaze focused intently on Vythia's ship, but Hunter could tell he was paying close attention to every word. Even Wrecker inserted a question here and there.

Hunter, meanwhile, listened with half his attention, but kept the rest of his focus on the Phoenix, and on the gradually darkening landscape. The shadows cast by the low-flying shuttles raced over the ground just ahead of them, and Hunter noted that they were flying away from the setting sun.

Minor disclaimer: I thought I came up with the name Dagoth, but then it started sounding too familiar. :) Anyone who's played Morrowind will probably remember Dagoth Ur - you know, main antagonist, Lord of the Sixth House, lives under Red Mountain near Ghostgate. . . Any of this ringing a bell? Well, apparently I forgot about him completely in the few years since I've played Morrowind. :D Regardless, Lord Dagoth my vaguely referenced and relatively undeveloped OC shall remain. The name just works.

As for the whole ysalamiri thing . . . you guys remember Timothy Zahn's books, right? :)