A sudden, insistent pounding in Quinlan's chest woke him abruptly, and he sat up with a jolt that made his head swim. His heart continued to thump rapidly against his ribs, as though he'd just sprinted a solid kilometer. What the . . .

He was assessing his surroundings before he'd even finished the thought. Leaning one hand on the smooth floor to steady himself, he glanced around. There was a faint light in the center of the room, and four people were scattered around it, breathing almost inaudibly as they slept.

Lothal. Mansion. Right.

He slumped down as he tried to slow his heartbeat and breathing to a more reasonable speed. He'd probably just felt a remnant of a psychometric memory, or whatever. . . But he thought he'd better check on the others, anyway. Propping himself up on his elbows, he studied them. They looked completely relaxed. Nothing wrong, then.

Except –

Wait a minute . . .

Quinlan got to his knees. So far, even when they were safe on the Marauder, the Bad Batch had always left someone on guard while the others slept. Why not this time? Or had one of them been on guard and then fallen asleep?

He pushed himself to his feet and moved carefully over to Hunter, who lay with his head on one elbow. Nothing seemed to be wrong with him, or with Tech, who had fallen asleep with his datapad still active and held between limp fingers.

Quinlan picked up the datapad and brightened the display, using it as a makeshift lantern as he glanced around. Wrecker was leaning back against the wall near the door, and across the room, Crosshair lay on his side; both were fast asleep.

With an uneasy shrug of his shoulders, Quinlan moved to the half-open door and glanced into the hall. There was no sound from the room Vythia had entered – then again, she could have been speaking aloud and he'd have had trouble hearing her through the thick stone door.

After a moment's hesitation, Quinlan sat next to the door, across from Wrecker, and prepared to stay on guard until morning – or until one of the others woke up, whichever came first. They were probably exhausted after the day's events, and Quinlan had to improve his mental defenses anyway. He had no desire to wake up again to some insidious memory or Force-imprint of an ancient evil.

A long half-hour passed. Quinlan focused on slowly strengthening his shields, and blocking out as much of his awareness of the Force as possible. The near-silence of the room became increasingly oppressive as time passed, but he ignored it. Actually, he tried to ignore it and didn't really succeed.

One way or the other, though, he had bigger things to worry about. Trayus Academy, for one. Not much was known about it for certain, though there were hundreds of legends, but the one thing that historians and Jedi alike seemed to have agreed on was the fact that Trayus was the darkest area on the entire planet of Malachor. In comparison to that place, Lothal would probably feel as though it were light – and wasn't that a disturbing thought.

Quinlan glanced at the others again, realized he was still holding Tech's datapad, and set it aside. The others were still sleeping, the room still oddly quiet. He cleared his throat, jumped a little at how loud he sounded, and thought again that something was off – or maybe out of place? He almost reached out with the Force to search for danger before remembering that he'd purposefully dulled his ability to access it.

Maybe it was just too quiet after the chaos of the day. Quinlan sighed, and then, as he often did during solo missions, he began speaking to himself. "I sure hope I didn't fall asleep after one of the others woke me for watch duty," he mumbled, rubbing a hand against the back of his head. "Nah – that can't be right. Hunter'd have noticed and woken me again."

Maybe Hunter hadn't taken the last guard shift, though. Quinlan paused to consider this. "Nope. If it was anyone, it was probably Hunter. If I'd fallen asleep after one of the others woke me, they really wouldn't have let me slack off. Let's see. . . Tech would've nagged me until I woke up again."

He thought some more, then smirked. "And if I fell asleep after Crosshair woke me, he'd have kicked me in the ribs or something equally obnoxious. Wrecker would've dragged me to guard position and walked off . . ."

He trailed off, amusement fading. Despite talking aloud, he couldn't quite shake the impression that something was wrong. Nothing new there, though. He'd felt that mostly obscure sense of 'something's wrong' ever since landing on this cursed planet.

Getting up again, Quinlan began to pace quietly around the perimeter of the room, swerving only to avoid Crosshair and Wrecker as he pointlessly wished that the whole team was back on the Marauder. They had stayed in the mansion for the express purpose of keeping an eye on Vythia, but they hadn't even seen her since she went into the second room, however long ago that had been . . . How long had it been, anyway?

Quinlan pulled his chronometer out of his belt to check the time and nearly tripped over Wrecker's feet when he realized that seven hours had passed. Seven hours –?! He never slept more than a couple of hours without waking at least briefly to check his surroundings.

Quinlan snatched Tech's datapad and powered on the screen, then ran over to Hunter and Tech. Dropping to one knee, he shook the sergeant, who didn't respond.

"Hunter!" he whispered. "Hunter, wake up!"

When Hunter didn't so much as stir, Quinlan set aside the datapad, grabbed the sergeant's pack from the ground, and pulled out the lantern. He hurried back to the door and shut it quietly before powering on the lantern.

Blinking against the sudden light, he made his way back to the others, set the lantern on the floor, and shook Tech. "Tech? Hey! Tech!"

But Tech stayed motionless – so motionless that it looked like he wasn't even breathing. Worried, Quinlan held the back of his hand in front of Tech's nose and mouth, and was relieved – but only partially relieved – when he felt the faint movement of air. Not only was Tech unresponsive, but he was breathing much too slowly for someone who was merely asleep. What was going on?

The Jedi got to his feet and stared around the room, searching for some clue that would tell him something about the situation. Anything. But the room was empty, apart from themselves and their supplies – no furniture, no windows . . .

No windows, his mind repeated, and he frowned. The Jedi moved quickly to the other side of the room to check Crosshair, reassured himself that the sniper still had a pulse, then checked on Wrecker, who was breathing normally. Quinlan shook him, not really expecting any reaction, but to his surprise, Wrecker stirred. It was only a slight motion, but Quinlan was suddenly much more relaxed than he had been.

Sitting back on his heels, he shook Wrecker again. "Okay, Wrecker. I need you to wake up some time this year, because I'm pretty sure we all need to get out of this room. Got it?"

Wrecker stirred, but didn't answer.

After giving him a final shove in the arm, Quinlan got to his feet. "Great, you work on that while I find somewhere else to move the rest of the team."

He crossed the room, opened the door silently, and peered out into the hall. Not a sound could be heard from Vythia's room, but there was a faint gleam of light coming from beneath the tiny crack between her door and the stone floor.

Good. If her lantern was on, she would never notice his own light. Still, Quinlan was cautious as he got the lantern and slipped out into the corridor, glancing right and left. He knew there was a short stairway somewhere nearby – Hunter had mentioned it as leading to the roof. And if he remembered correctly, Hunter had been exploring the northern half of the mansion at the time. Quinlan turned left.

It took only a short time to locate the stairway, and only a minute after he'd left the room, Quinlan was opening a trap door and stepping gingerly out onto the flat roof of the mansion. Then a rush of wind hit him from behind, shoving him forward, and he remembered the storm. Okay, maybe this wasn't such a great idea after all.

But the chill breeze was not accompanied by the stinging particles of ash he'd expected. Blinking, Quinlan turned to face the center of the dead city. It was too dark to see more than a few meters, but the rapid pattering of rain on stone, where it fell through the destroyed cave roof, was clearly audible. The mansion, though, was protected from the downpour. As long as the cave roof stayed intact, anyway. Well, it hadn't fallen yet, so there was hope.

That settled, Quinlan went back inside and returned to the room where the others were sleeping. Since Wrecker still hadn't moved, Quinlan opened a bottle of water and poured some on the big commando's head before moving back to Tech.

"Okay, Tech," he muttered. "Up you get."

He hoisted the shorter man to his feet, facing him, then ducked and pulled one of Tech's arms around his neck so he could lift him into a shoulder carry. The commando was heavier than he'd expected – the armor probably didn't help – but not heavy enough to be more than a mild inconvenience. As he moved back into the hallway, one of Tech's feet hit the door's edge, and he froze, wondering if Vythia had heard.

But there was no movement from her room, and he headed to the roof. Rightly assuming that it would be best to avoid bashing Tech's head on the walls, he moved slowly but steadily. He almost missed a step on the stairs to the roof, but caught his balance in time.

"Somehow, I just don't think I'll be able to do this with the others," he mumbled, staggering out onto the roof. Kneeling, he set Tech down, then paused and eyed the edge of the roof, which was only a couple meters away. "Uh, don't get me wrong Tech," he said. "I want you to wake up. . . but maybe you could hold off for a few minutes? Hmm."

The Jedi grabbed Tech's wrists and dragged him to the center of the roof. "Now stay put until I get back," he said. Heading back to the trap door, he mumbled, "And why I am even talking to you, I don't know, but whatever."

By the time he reached the room, Wrecker was stirring again, but he still hadn't woken all the way, so Quinlan made another trip to the roof, carrying two of the packs. By the time he finished with that, Wrecker was starting to show definite signs of coming around.

Tired of waiting, Quinlan splashed more water on his face and then poked his shoulder repeatedly, in a way he knew was very annoying. "Hey, Wrecker. Wrecker, wake up. Wrecker. Wrecker. Wrecker, are you alive? Wrecker – hey, wake up already, would you?"

"Wh-what . . . What's'a'matter?" Wrecker slurred vaguely. "Why're you being weird?"

"Darned if I know," Quinlan replied honestly. "To both questions. And keep your voice down, okay?"

Wrecker opened his eyes and gazed blearily across the room for a long moment before finally focusing on Quinlan. "What d'ya want?"

"Shh, keep it down." Quinlan got to his feet, grabbed Wrecker's arm with both hands, and tugged hard. "Come on, up you get."

Wrecker obeyed with some effort and looked around. "Where's – Tech?"

"Got him up to the roof." Quinlan eyed the way Wrecker was swaying and began to second-guess his decision to have Wrecker help him move the others. "Something seems to have made all of us fall asleep and stay that way."

"Huh?" Wrecker blinked. ". . . Why? What did?"

"Not sure, and I don't know," said Quinlan. "Listen, you think you can help me get Hunter and Crosshair up to the roof without making a lot of noise?"

Wrecker eyed the water bottle in Quinlan's hand, then took it and poured it on his own head. Handing it back, he gave his head a couple of hard shakes. "Think so."

"Awesome." It took a bit of effort, but by working together they managed to get Hunter over Wrecker's shoulder. Quinlan grabbed the other packs and led the way to the stairs, and Wrecker, who seemed pretty uncoordinated, tripped twice but got up to the roof without actually falling.

They left Hunter with Tech and went back one last time. While Wrecker went to get Crosshair, Quinlan paused outside Vythia's door. Resting his fingertips lightly against it, he listened. Her lantern was still on, but as far as he could tell, there was no sound or movement within the room. For a moment he wondered if he should check on her, but something – a thought, an instinct, the Force? – stopped him both times he reached for the door.

Stepping back, Quinlan rubbed his hand against his tunic. Then he followed Wrecker back up to the roof for the last time. He could check on Vythia from there, if he lowered his shields carefully.

As Quinlan closed the trapdoor behind them, Wrecker slung Crosshair to the roof next to Hunter, then sat down himself.

"Okay," he said, still sounding confused. "My head still feels weird. What just happened, again?"

"I don't know. Yet." Quinlan slouched down between Hunter and Tech and left the lantern on. "We need the other guys to wake up. Anyone else coming around?"

Wrecker glanced sidelong at Crosshair, prodded him, and jerked away. When the sniper failed to respond, though, Wrecker resumed his previous position. "Nope, guess not."

"Well . . . It shouldn't be too long." Quinlan braced his hands against the stone beneath him, tilted his head back, and drew a slow breath. The cool air was tinged with acrid overtones – almost as though the rain were acidic, which would not surprise him in the least, given how stupid this place was. Still, being outside was so much better than being in the dead, motionless interior of the mansion.

It was only a few minutes before Hunter started to move, and shortly after that he opened his eyes and stared up at the cave roof in apparent confusion. Quinlan didn't bother to explain the situation. Hunter had that dazed look on his face that meant he probably wouldn't understand anything for the next five minutes anyway. The sergeant didn't even seem to have realized that he was outside.

Tech moved a moment later, opened his eyes, and blinked twice. Then he sat up abruptly, rolled to his feet before Quinlan could stop him, and said, "I think –"

Then he fell to his hands and knees, and somehow failed to notice that he'd caught himself against Hunter.

The sergeant stirred and coughed.

Tech looked down, head tilted in mild confusion. "Hunter?"

"You're – kind of on his stomach," Quinlan said helpfully.

"Oh." Tech just stared at him for a moment before rolling off. "Quinlan, I believe we were just exposed to some form of sleeping agent."

"How'd you figure that out?" Wrecker asked.

Tech reached towards his belt, paused, and glanced around. "Where did I put – Oh. It seems that we are no longer in the same room in which we fell asleep."

Wrecker grinned. "Yeah. Thanks for telling us, Tech."

"Why not? What happened?" Tech was still looking around. "Where –?"

Dangling the datapad between two fingers, Quinlan held it out just as Hunter rolled onto one side and pushed himself up on one elbow. "What . . . Tech, what was that for?"

"I apologize," said Tech, snatching the datapad and tapping in his passcode. "It was entirely inadvertent."

Hunter blinked and shook his head. "Quinlan? Why are we outside?"

"Because." Quinlan noticed that Crosshair was starting to shift and wake up, so he leaned over and shoved the sniper in the arm to hurry along the process. "Wrecker and I brought you here."

"It is oh-two-forty," Tech cut in, as though that would somehow answer Hunter's question.

Not that Quinlan had given him much of an answer either. He continued to poke Crosshair almost meditatively as he asked, "Everyone feeling okay?"

"I believe so." Tech glanced from Wrecker to Hunter. "And, if my suspicions are correct, we are all unharmed."

Glancing up at him with a raised eyebrow, Quinlan poked Crosshair some more and wondered how many times he could get away with it.

Without warning, the sniper jerked, lashed out, and grabbed his wrist. Quinlan tried to yank his hand free, but Crosshair's second hand joined the first. Then, to add insult to injury, he used the grip he had on the Jedi's arm to pull himself to his knees before letting go.

"Ow," complained Quinlan, shaking his hand. He glanced at Tech and the scan he was currently running, then said, "Okay. Everyone awake and accounted for?"

"Except Vythia," replied Hunter.

"She's still in the mansion," Quinlan told him. "I'm not . . . I didn't check in on her."

"Why not?"

"Because I have a feeling that she wants us to stay asleep."

Crosshair scoffed, but that seemed to be an automatic reaction, rather than one with any real reason behind it.

"Quinlan would appear to be correct," Tech said, tapping his screen. "It has been six hours and twelve minutes since I woke up feeling dizzy and observed that the rest of you were asleep – including Wrecker, who had been on guard."

"Hey . . ." Wrecker stirred. "I don't fall asleep on guard!"

"Under normal circumstances, you are correct," Tech informed him. "But you did fall asleep this time, which is when I began to suspect that something was wrong."

"What was it, some kind of incapacitating agent?" Hunter asked.

"Precisely." Tech looked up. "What I find strange is that I did not notice anyone outside the door. Do you believe that Vythia somehow dispersed it through the room without either Wrecker or myself noticing?"

"Yeah." Quinlan rested his forearms on his knees. "It has to have been Vythia."

"But – why?" Hunter pushed himself to his feet. "Why would she want to keep us asleep?"

"Probably because she wanted to do something without risking our seeing her," said Quinlan. "But she's still in that room, as far as I can tell. . ."

Tech typed for a minute. Then his datapad let out a beep, and he nodded. "She is still in the room."

"Can you tell what she is doing from here?"

"No. She is in the center of the room, but that is all I can tell you."

"Maybe she got poisoned too," said Wrecker.

"Technically, we were not poisoned. But yes. Perhaps she is under the effect of the same –"

"Quinlan," Hunter interrupted, looking concerned. "Can you use the Force and find out what she's up to?"

"I'll have to lower my shields, but – yeah." Quinlan would rather have spied on her the old-fashioned way, but Vythia's room didn't have windows either, and cutting through the walls was more self-defeating than even he was fine with. At the same time . . . He shrugged, then knelt. "Okay. Give me a minute."

"We'll keep watch," said Hunter.

Quinlan shut his eyes and carefully deconstructed his shields, bit by bit so that he would not be overwhelmed. As he sank deeper into meditation, the constant pressing darkness began to weigh more heavily on him. Trying to ignore it, he sent his thoughts out toward Vythia, but something tugged at his mind. The odd pull was slight at first, but it increased drastically over the next few seconds until it was all but wrenching at his mental defenses, trying to read him.

Quinlan opened his eyes and jolted to his feet in an attempt to physically cut off his sudden immersion in the Force, but as he straightened, an image of a pale grey Zabrak with red eyes flashed in his mind.

"What –" he heard himself say. "The statue?"

The image vanished as fast as it had come, and at the same instant, the strange pull released his mind.

Quinlan squeezed his eyes shut and dropped to his knees, where he hastily reconstructed his defenses. When he looked up, the others had shifted. Hunter and Wrecker stood a little ways back, watching him; Crosshair was prowling along the edge of the roof; and Tech was staring at his datapad – staring, Quinlan noticed, but not really seeing it.

Hunter lifted a hand, drawing his attention. "Quinlan?"

"I didn't sense anything about Vythia," he replied. "I didn't even sense her – didn't get that far. But . . . I sensed something."

"Well," said Crosshair. "That's comforting."

"Thank you," said Quinlan grouchily. "Now shut up and let me finish."

Crosshair raised an eyebrow, but resumed walking around instead of responding.

Wrecker cleared his throat. "What was it you sensed?"

"I don't know. Something dark – very dark. Maybe Vythia was right about there being another artifact."

The commandos watched him without speaking, and he stared back for a few seconds as he attempted to think. He had been absolutely certain, the past afternoon, that there was nothing else present in the mansion, or even in the labyrinth. Why would he be feeling it now, though, and not earlier – why when he attempted to locate Vythia –

Quinlan blinked and rubbed at his forehead. Something had caught him off guard, so much so that he'd nearly had his shields torn completely away. It hadn't been Vythia, so perhaps it was something that Vythia had. Like that stupid kyber crystal . . . No. The crystal was nowhere near powerful enough. Like most red crystals, the one Vythia owned was less powerful than the pure crystals that Jedi used. Wasn't it? It seemed to be.

Something that Vythia had – the scepter? No, that had been nearly worthless as far as power went. But the mask . . .

It didn't feel like the mask, though. "And why the statue?" he finished aloud.

Tech's shoulders hunched slightly. "What about it?"

"I saw it just now."

"You saw it?"

"Yeah, in my mind, imagination, the Force, whatever . . ." Quinlan shrugged. "You know what, forget it."

"Why?" Tech asked promptly.

"Because."

There was a short pause.

"So now what do we do?" Wrecker asked, completely ignoring the frown Tech was still sending at Quinlan.

"Now?" Quinlan rubbed his arms against the sharp bite of the wind. "Now, I want to find out what the heck Vythia's up to. Preferably without getting caught. And – preferably without using the Force."

"There are no windows," Crosshair told him, finally coming to a halt. "So . . . what, you want us to go in through the roof?"

"No." Quinlan shot him an irritated look. "I just said without getting caught, didn't I?"

"Yeah."

"Crosshair," said Hunter. "Cut it out."

The sniper went to get his helmet. He put it on, flipped the rangefinder down over one eye, and stared at the roof for several seconds.

"Thermal imaging," Hunter told Quinlan, by way of an explanation.

"Huh."

Crosshair tilted his head, then shot Quinlan a sideways look. "Vythia's sitting perfectly still. Looks like she's meditating."

"Aw, come on," grumbled Wrecker. "That's not useful!"

"Neither are you," said Crosshair, and adjusted something on his helmet.

There was another brief silence.

"Wait," Crosshair said, leaning forward. "She's holding something. I think it's –"

"– that mask?" finished Quinlan.

"Right."

"I thought she left it on the shuttle," Hunter said. "Wait – you don't think she knocked us out just so she could get it, do you?"

"It is not entirely unlikely," Tech said before Quinlan could respond. "Although I suspect she knocked us out in order to get the mask without our asking questions about what she wanted it for."

"That's . . . what I meant." Hunter sighed. "Want us to head inside, Quinlan? Or do we wait out here and confront her in the morning?"

"I don't understand," Quinlan said, ignoring his question for the moment. "Why does it feel so different? Crosshair, are you sure it's the same mask?"

Crosshair hesitated. "The shape and dimensions are the same. It doesn't have eyes."

"Right." Quinlan tilted his head. "And, of course, Lothal's mask didn't have eyes. . . But the statue did."

"Of course it did," said Tech. "We all saw it. It only makes sense that it would have eyes, given that Lothal had eyes when he was alive."

"No. No, I meant what you saw, Tech."

Tech's face became expressionless for a moment before he said, "I already told you, that was most likely a reflection."

"Yeah, I know, but . . ." Quinlan started to pace, rubbing at the bridge of his nose as he did so. "I don't like this, Hunter."

"Honestly, I'd be surprised if you did." Hunter folded his arms and stared at the roof as though he were waiting for it to give him an answer.

Quinlan wished something would give him an answer. There was something important that he was missing, he was absolutely certain. . . but whatever it was, he could not pinpoint it. Even though he was sure it was something blatantly obvious.

"Why does it feel so different?" he muttered again. "It's the same, but . . . it's not? Ugh, okay. Guys, I'm going to try one more time. Keep an eye out and don't let me do anything crazy."

The four of them exchanged glances among themselves.

Quinlan rolled his eyes. ". . . You know what I mean."

"We actually don't," said Hunter with a mildly concerned look.

"Oh." Quinlan sat down and crossed his legs. "Just – y'know. Don't let me walk off the roof or anything."

Without giving them the chance to answer or comment, he shut his eyes and opened his mind to the Force. He had to be fast. This time, he did not try to search for Vythia's soul among the swirl of darkness that permeated the planet. He searched for the darkest point nearby, latched on to it, and struggled to identify it. His senses recognized it as Lothal's mask a split second before a flash of red flooded the backs of his eyelids.

For the strangest instant, he thought someone had hit him in the head; then his vision stretched and warped, and he found himself staring down at the empty-eyed mask of Lord Lothal. A black silhouette stood nearby – it looked like Vythia, or an outline of Vythia – and it was perfectly still.

The next second, he found himself on his knees in some black arena. A shadow was cast over him – he couldn't actually see it, but he knew it was there – a towering presence standing behind him and watching as it pulled swiftly at his shields. It was happening now.

Quinlan jumped up and spun, reaching for his lightsaber –

– and someone slapped him across the face.

Dropping to one knee, Quinlan blinked hard, one hand raised as he attempted to protect his mind.

But the presence was gone. Instead, Hunter was standing in front of him with Wrecker at his side while Crosshair and Tech stood together a short distance away, and the acidic rain spattered and fell against the streets of the destroyed town.