Tech gripped the steering yoke in both hands and watched tensely as the massive stormbeast writhed on the ground. It was lying on its scaled stomach, but twisted so that its gaping jaws pointed at the flashing sky. The forms of Tech's companions, tiny in comparison to that of the screaming monster, lay scattered between it and the Phoenix.

A sudden wave of vertigo made Tech lean forward, releasing the steering yoke with one hand to clutch at the control panel. One part of his mind informed him that he couldn't pass out or he'd crash, while the other part was busy trying to figure out how the creature's scream was affecting him so badly despite how the sound was deadened by the sealed doors. Of course, he realized, finally managing to focus on the blinking altimeter. The audible part of the scream isn't an issue, but the frequencies that are too high and low to hear are what are affecting us.

And if he didn't act, the others might very well suffer permanent damage. Gritting his teeth, Tech straightened and angled the ship's nose down as he brought the forward cannon online. His usual precision could not be trusted at the moment, so it was fortunate that the stormbeast was so large. Tech aimed the gun in the general direction of the creature's torso and jabbed the firing control.

The heavy laser pounded into the stormbeast's upper chest, and the rending scream cut off abruptly. When his vision cleared, Tech took more careful aim and sent a triple-blast into its throat.

The stormbeast's massive head slammed back into the ground, and its twisted limbs stiffened, then relaxed. Tech initiated the landing sequence, then ran a scan on the monster just to be sure that it was actually dead.

As he hurried to the door, Tech put his helmet on and commed his squad. "Hunter, come in. Hunter! Crosshair? Wrecker, can you hear me?"

There was a faint buzz of static, as though someone had tried to transmit, but nothing else. Tech slapped the door control and rushed out into the storm. The greenish lightning was increasing in frequency. Between the brilliant flashes, the darkness seemed all the more complete, and in comparison, his helmet lights were dim. With an impatient huff, Tech turned back into the ship just long enough to adjust the floodlights, which he pointed at the Phoenix.

As he ran out the door again, a sudden gust of wind shoved him back, and he clutched at the doorframe, barely keeping himself from falling off the side of the boarding ramp. The storm was getting worse, and when a jagged bolt of emerald lightning struck the ground not a mile away, Tech knew he was running out of time. It would be a miracle if the ships were not struck.

"We need to get onboard!" he shouted over the sudden crash of thunder, just in case the others could hear him. Again, no one responded.

Stumbling and slipping on the shifting ash as the wind gusted around him, Tech made his way to the Phoenix and glanced around to get his bearings. There – only a short distance from the stormbeast's head.

Dropping to his knees, he shook Wrecker as hard as he could. "Wake up!" he shouted, pulling off Wrecker's helmet.

His oldest teammate stared up at him, dazed but conscious. Tech sat back in relief – of the team, Wrecker would be the most able to help, by far. "Wrecker?"

"What . . . happened?" He took a breath, then turned onto his side, coughing hard.

Tech jammed Wrecker's helmet back on. "Sorry," he apologized. "Hurry, we've got to get the others to the Marauder! The storm's getting worse."

Wrecker nodded and got to his knees, then grabbed Tech's shoulder and tried to get up. He managed to almost stand before slipping sideways and dragging Tech down with him.

Tech rolled aside just in time to avoid being crushed, then scrambled to his feet and reached out a hand. "Try again, and this time don't squash me!"

"Didn't," grunted Wrecker, getting laboriously back to his feet. "Was doing fine until you moved."

"I did not move," argued Tech, although judging by how dizzy he was he might very well have tilted to one side or the other.

"Wait – I got it," said Wrecker, adjusting himself so that only half of his weight was on Tech's shoulders. "Just give me a minute."

"We might not have a minute!" Tech retorted, doubly grateful that Wrecker was conscious. He would never have been able to drag him to the ship. "Come on, Hunter's right over there."

"We can get him on the Phoenix."

"No," said Tech. "The Marauder is capable of withstanding multiple lightning strikes, but I don't know about Vythia's ship."

Wrecker staggered to a halt beside Hunter. "It'd probably be just fine. It's a ship," he muttered, reaching down to grab their sergeant's wrists. With a sudden heave, he hoisted Hunter to one shoulder. "I've got him. You find the others."

"I should go with you – the wind's getting stronger. I almost fell off the boarding ramp."

Wrecker wavered in place. Reaching carefully down with one hand, he pulled a stim shot from his belt and jabbed it into his neck, right through his blacks. A few seconds later, he straightened. "I got this, Tech. I feel better already."

Tech hesitated, then nodded. "Hurry."

"I'll be back," Wrecker said, and set off at a steady walk for the Marauder.

Putting his head down against the wind, Tech stumbled over to the doorway of the Phoenix. Vythia lay crumpled against the lowered boarding ramp, both arms wrapped around her face. "Vythia?"

When she stirred and moaned, Tech hoisted her to sit upright against the ship, making sure her face was turned away from the wind as he glanced around to locate the others.

He found them quickly. Quinlan was on his side, face turned downward, and the fact that Crosshair had fallen partially across his shoulders and was inadvertently pushing his face into the ashy ground wasn't helping matters in the least.

Tech tugged Crosshair off, grabbed Quinlan's wrists, and hauled him into a sitting position. A sudden clap of thunder made Tech jump, and he glanced back toward the Marauder, wondering why Wrecker was taking so long.

Then something screeched below them, and Tech narrowed his eyes in sheer irritation as he remembered the other stormbeasts. The stupid creatures would probably make their way outside, now that the predator was gone – as if this situation wasn't already bad enough!

Tech dragged the Jedi back and leaned him against the stormbeast's head, then stomped back to Crosshair and repeated the maneuver. He tried to lift Crosshair, but though his strength was up to the task, his equilibrium was not. He was dizzy, his squad mates were injured, and they were all in a potentially fatal situation while Tech could do next to nothing about it. Fuming, he drew both pistols and kept watch, almost hoping that a stormbeast or two would come out.

Then Crosshair shifted, muttering something under his breath, and Tech had just taken a step toward him when Wrecker yelled, "I'm back!"

Tech jumped badly and had to repress the urge to yell at his squad mate.

As usual, Wrecker didn't notice his annoyance. "Can you get Cross on your own?"

"Yes, now that he's waking up." Tech holstered his pistols. "Where is Vythia?"

"Already got her onboard." Before Tech could quite register that he'd failed to notice when that had happened, Wrecker dropped to one knee and shook the Jedi. "Hey. You awake?"

When Quinlan failed to respond, Wrecker picked him up and hurried back to the ship.

Tech slung Crosshair's rifle over one shoulder and tightened the strap, hoping that he wouldn't trip on the long weapon. "Crosshair, wake up," he ordered bossily. "I am not dragging you all the way back."

"Couldn't if you tried," groaned Crosshair.

Tech rolled his eyes, but didn't waste energy arguing Crosshair's absolutely inaccurate statement. "Well, unless you want to be electrocuted to death, I suggest you move."

Crosshair got as far as his hands and knees before freezing. ". . . Earthquake?"

"No," said Tech, then jumped again as the air vibrated from a boom of thunder.

"Ground's moving."

A triple-flicker of green lit up the clouds above and around them, and Tech tugged harder at Crosshair's arm. "We've got to hurry. Come on, the ground isn't moving."

"Is," insisted Crosshair. He was being even less wordy and more argumentative than usual.

Losing patience, Tech dragged him forcibly to his feet. "Crosshair, the ground is not moving. You're just dizzy."

They made it a fantastic seven steps before Crosshair ripped off his helmet and doubled over, gagging and heaving.

Maybe 'just dizzy' was an understatement, Tech thought ruefully, gulping as his own nausea reasserted itself. "Hold on, we're almost there. Just a bit farther . . ."

Another bolt of lightning struck not a hundred meters away, and a splitting crash reverberated in the air all around them. Tech and Crosshair reached the ship, staggered up the boarding ramp, and all but fell inside.

Wrecker stepped over them to shut the door. "I got the shields up," he said. "We'll have to wait to leave till the storm's over, though. Visibility's getting worse."

Shoving the rifle off his shoulder, Tech rolled over to lie flat on his back, and stared up at the ceiling. "That's fine," he said. "Let me know if the situation changes."

Wrecker took off his helmet and looked doubtfully down at him, blood trickling from one ear as he said, "What are you doing?"

Tech moved slightly, but only enough to untangle himself from Crosshair. "I am staying right here until the storm passes."

Quinlan slouched at the galley table, rested his head in his arms, and tried to imagine a perfectly still, flat piece of land. Near the Adas Academy, for example – that was nice and flat . . . No, that didn't work at all. They were on that land right now, and the rocking and spinning sensation hadn't abated in the least.

"What if we take off and fly in circles?" he mumbled into his sleeves.

"What?" answered an equally exhausted voice.

The Jedi risked opening an eye. Hunter was slumped down across from him, looking every bit as miserable as Quinlan felt.

Quinlan gestured vaguely with one hand. "If we take off and fly in circles, maybe we'll feel like we're flying in a straight line . . .?"

Hunter looked up, briefly interested before his mind caught up with him.

They both put their heads down again.

It had been hours since they'd woken up on the shuttle. Vythia wasn't as badly off as some of the others – probably thanks to her being a Nautolan and all, since Nautolans were equipped for fast movement under deep water . . . Water wasn't the same as air, but there was something about pressure and sudden change. Tech would probably know more about the differences between Nautolans and humans, but –

Quinlan paused, unsure of where that train of thought had been leading. Oh, right, Vythia had woken feeling sick and dizzy, but not to the extent that some of the others had been. As soon as she felt able, she'd insisted on returning to her own ship – that was probably just as well, considering that half the stuff on the ship was labeled with the Republic insignia. Good thing she'd never left the cockpit.

The ship deck spiraled away beneath him all over again, and Quinlan's stomach started to crawl up his throat. He drew a deep breath and willed it to stay firmly where it belonged. Crosshair and Hunter between them had already done enough vomiting for the whole team, thank you very much.

Cautious footsteps approached and paused near the table. It was definitely Tech – he'd stopped by every quarter of an hour or so to check on the Jedi and Hunter. When he didn't say anything, Quinlan lifted a hand in an attempt to show that, yes, Tech, he was alive and more or less conscious, and now would you please go away.

Hunter showed a bit more alacrity. "Tech," he asked. "We headed out of here soon?"

"The storm has not let up," said Tech, slumping down next to the sergeant. "We could still try flying, though. Wrecker claims that he is feeling back to normal, though I suspect the stim shots may have something to do with that."

"Wrecker, stop taking stim shots!" Hunter barked, the effect rather muffled by the fact that he was still talking into his arms.

"I will relay your message," Tech said, a bit sarcastically. "He did only inject two, though."

". . . Still."

"Yes."

Something beeped faintly – probably the chronometer. Quinlan wondered what time it was, but wasn't interested enough to actually turn his head and look.

"Are either of you feeling any better?" Tech asked.

"Yep," groaned Hunter unconvincingly.

"I think maybe?" said Quinlan.

"Hm. I would be surprised if that were true," said Tech. "You have a ruptured eardrum."

Quinlan tried to think through the possible ramifications of that and came up with exactly nothing. "So . . . What, I've got vertigo for life?"

"No." Tech sounded amused. "Wrecker already gave you a bacta injection. Untreated, that type of injury could take several weeks to heal, but you should be back to normal in a few days, possibly sooner."

"Awesome," Quinlan grumbled. "Any chance I can put myself under until then?"

"For two or three days? I wouldn't recommend it."

"Well, no, but –" With an effort, the Jedi straightened, keeping the edge of the table in a tight grip. ". . . Looks like I'm down for the count either way. I won't do much good moping around like this."

"Oh," said Tech, blinking. "No, the severe vertigo shouldn't last much longer. I would estimate a couple of hours, at the most."

"Thank the Force."

A sudden flash and boom made everyone jolt. Hunter shook his head once as though to clear it, then froze, eyes widening slightly. Yeah, that movement probably hadn't been one of his best decisions ever.

"That makes the second lightning strike," said Tech. "This storm is surprisingly intense."

Wrecker entered the galley with an armful of water bottles and dumped them on the table. "Nothing to report on scanners," he said, sitting down beside Quinlan. "Vythia's ship took a direct hit, but doesn't have any damage. Nothin' much is happening otherwise."

"Honestly? I'm glad to hear it." Hunter poked at a water bottle with one finger. It tipped over, then rolled sadly across the table. Everyone watched in complete disinterest as it neared the edge, overbalanced, and hit the floor.

Quinlan shut his eyes again. After another minute and a half of silence, he felt around for a water bottle, just to give himself something to fidget with. Then he opened his eyes, glanced over at his companions, and regretted it wholeheartedly. "Hunter? You're literally upside down."

". . . No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are," hissed a voice from the doorway. Crosshair was clutching the doorframe as though his life depended on it, but when Wrecker started to stand up, the sniper released the door and moved unsteadily over to the table.

"No, I'm not," said Hunter, shutting his eyes and turning a bit pale. "And I wish you'd stop saying things like that."

"Nobody is upside down," said Tech. "That is impossible, given our current circumstances."

Crosshair looked unconvinced, and Quinlan couldn't blame him. In fact, he thought that the old saying 'seeing is believing' was firmly discredited by this situation. Of course, the millions and millions of beings who thought the Force didn't exist also kind of discredited the statement – or . . . something.

"No, that's not right," he mumbled thoughtfully. "There's probably a flaw in my logic somewhere. Maybe even two."

Tech blinked.

Quinlan changed the subject before he could ask. "Hunter . . . What went on with that stormbeast? Vythia was pretty upset about something."

"Yeah, I'll bet." The sergeant paused as though collecting his thoughts.

Tech glanced up at Crosshair, who was standing just behind him, then at the narrow end of the table between Hunter and Quinlan, which had the only empty spot. Quinlan was just about to slide further in when Tech dropped to his hands and knees and crawled beneath the table. A second later, he reappeared on the bench to Quinlan's left. "Yes, what did happen?" he asked.

Crosshair sat down at the place Tech had just vacated. "The plan didn't work the way we thought."

"No," Hunter agreed. "Getting the stormbeast's attention with the lightsaber didn't work at all. That creature didn't move a muscle until Crosshair and Vythia came out, but then I think it got confused. You guys were all pretty close to each other."

The sergeant rubbed his forehead. "When it ignored you, Quinlan, after going after you in the first place, I figured it had gone for the wrong target. Then I remembered what Vythia said, about the stormbeasts subsisting on the dark side."

Quinlan straightened a bit. "You figured that the shard was what got its attention, so you went and grabbed it."

"Yeah – took Wrecker and me a bit to recover from that first scream," Hunter admitted apologetically. "But it was the only way I could think of to get the stormbeast to swallow the bait."

Quinlan gave an interested hum. "Good thing you remembered. Killing it by getting it to swallow explosives? Impressive."

"Minus the part where I misjudged the timing on the detonation."

"Actually, I don't think you did," Tech replied. "That stormbeast was resilient, and we didn't have particularly powerful explosives available. It took four shots from the forward turret to kill it,"

"We'll bring the big ones next time," Wrecker promised, cracking his knuckles.

Quinlan frowned. "There's gonna be a next time?"

"It would make sense to prepare for the worst," Tech observed. "Particularly since we have found only two of the four artifacts, and already we've gotten in a good deal of trouble."

"Not just me, then, huh?" Quinlan rolled the water bottle slowly along the table.

"Not just you for what?" Wrecker asked.

"Thinking we've gotten in a surprising amount of trouble so far. I gotta say – my missions are usually a lot more boring than this. A lot of tracking, trailing, researching, watching . . . Not so much the life-and-death situations."

"Same," said Crosshair, giving him an unreadable look. "We're always in fights, but we've never had an escape this close."

"Huh." Hunter sounded as though he'd just realized something. "You're right. Ever since the mission began . . . That thing with Grakkus was pretty touch-and-go, Dverik was worse. And now this."

Quinlan shoved the water bottle to Hunter, who stopped it automatically. "So, I guess the real question is, whose fault is it?"

Wrecker picked up a bottle and rolled it to Tech. Hunter rolled the other one back to Quinlan. Quinlan rolled it to Wrecker. Tech rolled his to Crosshair and got one of his own.

"I dunno," said Wrecker uncaringly. "Probably your fault, Quinlan."

"Yeah, maybe." He sent the bottle skittering across the table into Tech's and willed the table to stop tilting. It didn't work, so he focused on Hunter instead. "I told you I'm used to working alone. Not an excuse – just . . . I haven't always thought of telling you guys all the mission-relevant data. So, before I forget, there are a couple of things you should know."

Hunter gestured for him to continue.

"When Vythia took that shard out of the vault, it was like an explosion of Dark Side energy. Way stronger than the urn – good thing I already had my shields up, because otherwise we'd have had a lot of explaining to do."

"Hm," said Hunter. "The vault was shielded in some way?"

"Yeah. I guess that might also be why the stormbeasts showed up so quickly after we removed the artifact. Not sure about whether the big stormbeast felt it or not, though."

"Yeah." Wrecker frowned. "Where'd he even come from?"

"No idea."

"Must've been behind the academy," said Crosshair. "That creature was taller than the cliff was high – it wouldn't be hard for it to climb down."

"You are probably correct," Tech said, typing something into his datapad. "Quinlan, what is the second thing we should know?"

"I could sense you guys in the Force after the stormbeast swallowed the artifact."

"Meaning you couldn't before?"

"Right. For the most part, while we've been on Malachor, I've been keeping my shields pretty strong – even more so after the shard was retrieved. I lost control of them when we all passed out. . . and I don't even know if it's worth worrying about, but the Dark should have bothered me a lot more at that point than it actually did. Almost like lowering the shields made the Dark less . . . aggressive."

"What do shields do?" Crosshair shoved the water bottle towards him.

Quinlan caught it and rolled it over to Wrecker. "Simply put, they keep the Dark Side from . . . invading? Yeah. From invading my mind. The trouble is, they also dampen my own passive Force abilities, like sensing monsters and stuff."

"What about active Force abilities?" Tech asked.

"It makes them a little weaker too – but I can drop my shields at a moment's notice if I have to, so that's not a real concern."

Hunter nodded thoughtfully. "Good to know. It's not like you can really use those abilities on this mission, anyway."

"Not openly, no."

Crosshair leaned an elbow on the table and rested his head in one hand. "That might not be the case for much longer."

"No?" Quinlan met his gaze. "You think Vythia's getting suspicious."

"Yeah."

"Nuts. I was hoping that was just me being paranoid."

"Cross is pretty paranoid," Wrecker told him reassuringly.

Crosshair shot Wrecker an unamused look and jerked his chin at Quinlan. "She's watching him closely. Asking questions."

"I noticed that, too," said Hunter. "She might only suspect that he's unknowingly Force-sensitive."

"I think she does, but I could work with that." Quinlan drummed his fingers against the table and started to stand, then sank back down. ". . . Maybe I'll just stay here."

Wrecker glanced around, then picked up the water bottle from the floor and put it with the others. "Hey, I brought these for drinking, not playing with!"

"Quinlan started it," said Crosshair snidely.

The Jedi looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "Right, because that was mature."

Hunter put his head back down on his arms and ignored them.

Rolling his eyes, Tech stood. "Unless there is something else requiring my attention, I am going to run some checks on the engines. I want to ensure the lightning hasn't caused too much damage. Wrecker, you can check the turrets."

He crawled back out from under the table and set off, either not noticing or not caring about the querying looks Crosshair and Quinlan sent after him. Judging by how observant he usually was, Tech probably just didn't care.

Wrecker followed him. "Aw, Tech, come on. The lightning hasn't even stopped yet!"

"It is not as severe," said Tech, vanishing into the cockpit.

"Yeah, but if we get hit again it'll mess up the readings anyway and –"

"It is not very likely –"

There was another flash and boom, and then a very long silence.

"See?" Wrecker demanded.

Hunter snorted, but didn't move.

After a moment, Quinlan rested his arms on the table and his chin on his arms and looked carefully around. Huh, the motion does seem to be slowing down a little . . .

Crosshair fidgeted with the water bottle, started to open it, then changed his mind and sent it skidding across the table again.

The Jedi, who didn't feel inclined to sit up straight, leaned forward a bit and stopped it with his chin. "Ow."

Silence fell, for a couple of minutes. Then Wrecker, still in the cockpit, hollered, "Hey, Tech? How long until the storm dies down?"

"I am not sure," said Tech. "The weather patterns here are so inconsistent . . . I would estimate a few hours at the most."

"A few hours," Quinlan repeated. "Hey, what time is it, anyway?"

Crosshair started to turn, then leaned back and checked the chrono on his vambrace instead. "Twenty-three forty."

"Later than I thought."

"Mm."

"Probably won't be heading anywhere until morning at the earliest."

"Probably not."

Quinlan flicked at the water bottle again. "It's going to be a long night. This place is really . . . I dunno."

"Negative ten," Hunter murmured.

"What?"

"Take off two for the big stormbeast."

"Oh. Right."

Tech, who had just entered the galley, raised an eyebrow above his goggles. "And definitely one for the lightning."

"And – wait, did we already cover the ash storm?" Quinlan asked.

"Just the ash," said Crosshair.

"Okay, so we'll take one off for the storm itself, too. Negative twelve."

Nodding seriously, Tech typed the information into his datapad.

Quinlan squinted at him. "You're actually keeping track?"

"Of course," said Tech, and left the room again.