Sergeant Olin was the second man through the airlock, stacking to the left as Corporal Neran stacked to the right.
"Clear," Olin transmitted. Second fire team advanced through the air lock, advancing three meters to the next piece of cover, rifles trained deeper into the Peragus facility. It was a bloodbath, literally. Sonic weapons didn't cauterize. Dead miners were scattered all over the deck, with a handful of destroyed droids mixed in.
Lieutenant Salik entered the facility behind Sergeant Olin's squad. He was in charge of securing the facility, and searching for survivors. He was inexperienced, but sharp. Olin liked him. The duros knew when to ask for help.
"Report?" Captain Raxton transmitted.
"Looks like the facility suffered from the droid malfunction as well. Multiple deceased, no survivors noted," Salik answered.
"Begin search and rescue. I want to know what happened here," Raxton growled.
Thirty republic marines in full armor was not something to scoff at, but this was a large facility. Searching it safely would take time. Time survivors might not have.
"Can I task second platoon as well?" Salik asked. The Harbinger was running on a peacetime complement, with a total of three hundred crew. Sixty of them were marines.
There was silence for several seconds, and Salik glanced over at Olin, who shrugged. With a facility this large, it was risky either way. Commit too few, and it wouldn't matter if you had a reserve to send in as back up, because there wouldn't be any survivors to reinforce. Commit too many, and if anything unexpected happened there would be nothing to do but wait for the soldiers to rescue themselves or die.
"Lieutenant, I'm sending second platoon over, ETA seven minutes. Be careful," Raxton answered reluctantly.
"Acknowledged sir," Salik said.
The junior officer turned to Sergeant Olin, "Sergeant, I think securing the command center is a good first step. We can use the facility's security systems to hasten the search."
It was a command phrased as a polite question.
"Agreed sir. Do you want to break down into staggered squads, or proceed at platoon strength?" Olin asked.
Salik glanced at the corridor. It was four meters wide, with minimal cover. Any firefights would be messy, standing-room-only affairs.
"Break down into squads. Fifteen second intervals," Salik replied.
Olin grunted, and signaled third squad. They would be point.
((()))
"Quiet. Did you hear that?" Sully whispered. Brynna looked up from her end of the gurney, glancing at Sully. The group froze, and listened without the sounds of boots on deck plates.
The hollow noise came again.
Blaster fire, Atton realized.
"Sounds like blasters," Sully whispered.
Brynna looked at Atton, "Go check it out," she whispered. Atton grimaced, but didn't argue. At least he hadn't had to help carry the mechanic.
Sully and Brynna carefully lowered Choy's gurney to the ground and rested. The woman was sleeping again, from the sedatives Brynna had administered. Sully picked his sonic drill up off the gurney, and waited with Brynna around the corner, out of sight of the hatch, nervously panning his glowrod back the way they'd come, watching for droids.
Atton panned his sonic drill, studying the damaged hatch at the end of the ten meter hall in the light of the taped on glowrod. Something had hit the other side of the hatch with impressive force, bowing out sections of it.
Atton wasn't picking up any com chatter, but if there were republic soldiers, they would probably be using tight-beam line of sight transmissions between them, and encrypted transmissions to their superiors. Neither of which would be detectable on so basic a comlink as his. But they might be monitoring those channels.
The problem; was the droids would quickly home in on open broadcasts…
Atton dialed down the power on his comlink transmission, hopefully it wouldn't be detectable beyond a hundred meter radius.
"To anyone who can hear this, we need help. Please respond," Atton transmitted as he walked back towards the group.
"Rand, what are you doing?" Sully hissed, "That's an open channel!"
"I know. Shut up," Rand retorted.
"Identify yourself," a voice responded from the comlink.
Atton grinned snidely at Sully, and handed the comlink to Brynna.
"Well?" Atton prodded.
Brynna scowled at Atton, "My name is Brynna Coro. I'm the chief medical officer of Peragus."
"We've triangulated your transmission. Stay where you are," the voice answered.
"I understand," Brynna said.
A few seconds later Atton heard the muted snarl of fusion cutters, coming from the damaged hatch.
"Sully, help me move Choy," Brynna said. The two lifted the stretcher, and moved closer to the hatch, towards rescue. Atton slowly drifted to the back of the group, keeping his glow rod pointed back the way they'd come, as if watching for droids. He stayed at the corner, where he could keep an eye on the hatch, and the way back.
Really, he was positioning himself in case he needed to run. Just because it looked like a republic warship didn't mean that it wasn't a pirate vessel. Atton touched the small hold-out blaster in a pouch of the mining suit's utility harness, to reassure himself which pouch it was in.
If the people on the other side of the hatch came through blasters blazing, then Atton could slip away. They might not even know he'd escaped, assuming he was Sully…
Unless it was a legitimate rescue. Either way, he would survive.
A fusion cutter breached the hatch in a shower of blinding sparks. Several seconds later the hatch was kicked in, and three armored shapes cautiously advanced through the gap.
Atton recognized the armor. Republic marines. They had blaster rifles too.
"Are you Coro?" One trooper asked, tactical lamp on his helmet illuminating Brynna. The soldiers' blaster rifles remained pointed at the floor, but could be snapped up to fire if threatened.
"I am," the woman nodded, squinting from the light.
"We have orders to provide triage, and retrieve survivors," the soldier stated. One trooper with a larger tactical pack broke from the trio, and crouched next to Choy's stretcher, pulling out a compact medical scanner.
"Lieutenant. We found three survivors," one of the soldiers reported, hand to his helmet. He'd forgotten to disable his external speakers.
Green… very green— Atton thought suspiciously.
Atton spotted movement at the hatch, and saw two more soldiers stacked up there, ready to provide suppressing fire incase the three exposed soldiers needed to advance or retreat.
—but not stupid…
Atton ejected the power cell from the hold-out blaster, and flipped the catch on the grip, breaking the weapon down into two innocuous components. He hid them in his tunic.
"Four, actually," Atton said, carefully stepping out into the open, drill held out to his side, clearly non-threatening, his hands far from the trigger.
The soldier on the left gestured for him to approach, and join the others.
((()))
Captain Raxton stood on the bridge, staring out the starboard viewport at the Peragus facility. He watched one of the ministry-class shuttles detach from a docking umbilical, and coast back towards his ship with the recovered survivors.
"Captain, we found something… strange," Lieutenant Salik reported.
"Details, lieutenant," Raxton replied patiently.
"We found a Jedi. A dead one," Salik replied.
"If its dead, how do you know it's a Jedi?" Captain Raxton asked.
"We found the lightsaber, sir," Salik clarified.
Which still didn't mean it was a Jedi. Hundreds of lightsabers had been scavenged from battlefields in the last decade alone.
"Scan the body for traps, then bring it aboard. We'll see if it was a Jedi or not," Raxton shook his head. Salik was too quick to make assumptions, but at least he was a quick learner.
((()))
Jolee frowned. The vague sense of danger had passed, and… something else felt different. The hermit crouched down and centered himself, reaching out with his senses. The Force had altered in the immediate vicinity. Jolee couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something was different…
Bindo pulled out his comlink and turned it on.
"Kel, are you picking up anything… out of the ordinary?" Jolee asked.
"You turned off your comlink," Lashowe answered waspishly.
"Why, yes I did. Must have hit one of the little buttons," Jolee replied patiently.
"We talked about this," Lashowe growled.
"Did we? My memory's not what it used to be," Jolee said, cranking up his crotchety old-man act.
"Jolee. A Hammer-head class cruiser is in station keeping a kilometer from the peragus facility. It's launched and recovered several shuttles in the last hour," Kel interrupted helpfully.
"Might by one of Carth's ships," Jolee said, straightening up, his knees popping painfully. Damned arthritis.
"We attempted to contact you when it entered sensor range but somehow your comlink had shut itself off again," Kel continued. Jolee could hear Lashowe making several baseless accusations under her breath, just within range of the comlink's pickup. Jolee felt the corner of his mouth twitch up into a reluctant smirk.
Needling the impulsive woman was one of the few joys he still indulged.
It was the little things.
"Prep the Hawk for departure. One way or another, we're getting on that ship," Jolee said, breaking into a jog.
"Jolee… the Ebon Hawk is a remarkable ship… but a cruiser might be a little beyond our capabilities to seize—" Kel pointed out cautiously.
Jolee wasn't listening as he turned the comlink off again, tucking it back onto his belt. The thing he'd come to find… it was on that ship.
So bloody close…
((()))
"This is excellent work," the republic surgeon remarked, studying the medical scans. He was in his late sixties, if Brynna had to guess, most likely called back from retirement, due to the shortage of experienced personnel the Republic was suffering from. The wrinkles around his gray eyes gave an illusion of either perpetually staring into a bright light, or short-sightedness. He glanced over at Brynna, his originally distant demeanor opening up a little.
"Especially considering the complexity and quantity of injuries."
"I've dealt with similar trauma cases. They're a common occurrence in industrial settings," Brynna responded.
"That's odd," the surgeon said, peering closely at the scans, "Does this woman have any Zeltron heritage?"
"No. I noticed that neurological activity as well, it was present on my initial examination too," Brynna said.
"Well, it doesn't appear to be life threatening," the surgeon shrugged, smiling in reassurance to Brynna.
"The facilities during her second surgery were crude, due to the partial repairs to my medical bay. I wasn't able to fully repair the liver hemorrhage," Coro said, ignoring the placation.
"This woman's injuries won't kill her. As she is, she might even recover without additional surgery. We can wait until tomorrow, give her body time to recover, before another surgery," the surgeon answered. The smile remained, but his eyes were firm.
"Why wait?" Brynna demanded, glancing at Choy's unconscious face.
"Because Miss Verdan might not be my only patient. I'll reconsider postponing the surgery after our soldiers return to the ship," the surgeon replied.
((()))
Jolee tugged his robes into place, and clipped his lightsaber prominently to his belt. Kel and Lashowe had also retrieved their lightsabers from the starboard dormitory's smuggling compartment. First impressions were important. The deck of the Ebon Hawk shuddered as Kel brought them out of the Peragus hanger. Jolee held onto the holoprojector in the main hold until the inertial compensators caught up.
"Lashowe, be a dear and hail the cruiser," Jolee said. He left the line to the cockpit open.
"They're responding," Lashowe reported tersely.
"Ask for a face to face communication," Jolee replied.
An indicator lit up on Jolee's panel. He activated it, and a holographic image wavered to life in front of him.
"This is Captain Raxton of the Republic cruiser, Harbinger; who am I addressing?" the blue-hued man in a republic captain's naval uniform demanded stiffly.
"Greetings, captain. My name is Jolee Bindo. It's probably my fault you're out here," Jolee said, smiling slightly. His name had become slightly famous after the Jedi civil war.
The captain blinked, clearly recognizing the name.
"Are you responsible for this situation?" the captain asked coolly.
"No, but I assume Carth sent you, and that part is my fault," Jolee chuckled.
"Do you know what happened here?" Captain Raxton asked.
"Perhaps. Captain, may I come aboard? I don't wish to discuss this where it might be intercepted," Jolee said, letting his smile fade.
"Do you have any way to authenticate your claims?" Captain Raxton asked.
Jolee hated code phrases.
"Talon strikes rock," the Jedi grumbled. It was one of Carth's unofficial codes. One that all of his (trusted) captains knew.
"Light sheds form," the captain answered.
The republic captain stared at him for several seconds, before nodding quickly.
((()))
A security detachment (of armed crewmen, not marines) met the alleged Jedi at the airlock, and escorted him to the captain's conference room. Raxton wasn't comfortable leaving the bridge during an operation, but trusted Torrell to keep everything together. Also, it was only a sixty-second sprint to the bridge.
The doors to the conference room closed around the group of crewmen, and the hooded man.
"Weapons?" Raxton asked.
"Only a lightsaber," a petty officer reported, holding up the weapon for inspection.
"You may wait outside," Raxton told the four crewmen.
The doors closed again, and the cowled man tugged his hood off. He appeared to be Jolee Bindo.
"Let me be frank, captain," the man said.
"Please. It would be a refreshing change from most interactions with Jedi," Raxton replied.
"I can't tell you what happened here," Jolee said.
"Then why ask to speak to me?" Raxton demanded.
"Captain, I've been hunting something. Something probably very dangerous, for almost a year. It was on Peragus. Now it's on your ship," Jolee said flatly.
Raxton stared into the Jedi's eyes. Eyes that had seen too much, for too long.
Raxton knew those eyes. He saw them in the mirror every morning.
"Lieutenant Trent is in charge of the Peragus investigation. He is on deck four. He'll know what has been brought aboard from Peragus," Captain Raxton said quietly.
"An escort would be appreciated," Jolee said grimly.
"And your lightsaber?" Raxton suggested.
"That might help… or it might not," Jolee admitted.
The intercom pinged.
"Go ahead commander," Raxton answered.
"Lieutenant Salik reports that he's accounted for all of the Peragus personnel, and has finished data mining the main computers," Commander Torrell said.
"Acknowledged, shut down the facility and bring our boys home," Captain Raxton replied. Proper salvage teams could be dispatched to repair the volatile facility.
((()))
Atton studied the mess hall, as he dug into the naval fare. It was somewhat bland… but still better than rehydrated emergency rations. Two naval crewmen, their sidearms holstered, stood watch by the entrance. Atton glanced at Sully, but the man stared at his food, picking at it. The past day was starting to catch up with the dock officer, now that he had time to think about it.
Their sonic drills and EVA suits had been confiscated, but they'd been allowed to keep their clothes after a security scan. It hadn't flagged the disassembled blaster components in his jacket as dangerous.
Atton was starting to get a bad feeling…
((()))
"Who didn't secure the hatch?"
Sergeant Olin looked up, as the co-pilot of the shuttle leaned out of the cockpit. Olin was closest to the back, he'd boarded the cramped shuttle last.
"Improper seal?" he asked over comlink.
"No, computer's registering the hatch as open," the pilot answered, also via comlink.
"Shift it, lads," Olin grunted, squeezing between two corporals, their plastoid pauldrons and chestplates clacking loudly in the tight space.
The rear air lock was open.
Olin signaled the door to cycle. An error flashed, and the door remained open.
"Safeguards are active. It's registering an obstruction," Olin reported.
"We've been having trouble with the proximity sensors. Reboot the array. It should clear the sensor ghosts," the co-pilot instructed.
Olin cleared the sensor data, resetting it to default. The door chimed at him cheerfully, and began to close, no longer detecting an obstruction.
((()))
"We found four survivors. Two are in medical, two are in the mess hall," Lieutenant Trent told Jolee, as they walked through the corridors.
"Which is closer?" Jolee asked.
"Medical," Trent answered.
"Well, let's go there first," Jolee replied. He still had two naval crewmen as "escorts."
The doors to the medical bay cycled open, revealing a dozen empty kolto-tanks, and empty bio-beds.
Except one of the beds wasn't empty. Jolee sighed, glancing at another dead miner. Three survivors then.
Two people looked up at his entrance.
One of them was dressed in Peragus uniform, the other Republic.
"Who are you?" the woman (in Peragus uniform) asked.
"Actually, that's my question," Jolee answered, probing the woman cautiously. He wished he knew exactly what he was looking for…
"Brynna Coro. Chief Medical officer of Peragus. Why do you want to know?" the woman repeated. Jolee traced the woman's surface memories. She was (apparently) concerned for her patient.
"How long have you been on Peragus?" Jolee asked.
"Six years," she answered sharply. Truth.
"Ever leave?" Jolee asked.
"Yes," she answered. Truth.
"Where did you go?"
"Bonadan," the woman said. Truth.
"Really?" Jolee asked, "Why Bonadan?"
"I like the beaches," the woman growled. Lie.
"Never did like beaches. Too much sand. And the water. Terrible, wet places," Jolee chuckled.
The woman crossed her arms, "Is this going to take much longer?" Worried.
"You have somewhere else to be?" Jolee asked curiously.
"No, but my patient requires further care," Coro said, gesturing to the corpse on the bio-bed. Truth.
Jolee winced.
"Miss. The woman is dead," Jolee said gently.
Which was when the corpse shifted restlessly in her sleep.
Jolee yelped, drawing his lightsaber, staring at the body on the bed. The Force studiously insisted that she didn't exist. There was a human shaped void where a body lay.
Jolee lowered his unlit lightsaber, cautiously approaching the void.
"It's her," Jolee whispered, realization dawning.
Jolee carefully touched the woman's hand. Alive. He felt a pulse in her wrist, saw her chest rise and fall delicately, the flicker of eyes behind lids in dream—
—but sensed nothing.
The Force was blind to this woman. Her actions were invisible, and affected the future, changing it, without alerting anyone to the changes made. The only symptom was the strange dissonance, like watching an out of focus image… as what was foreseen did not match what happened.
Jolee looked up, realizing that someone had been speaking to him, in a quite angry tone. The young doctor. Brynna Coro. Her indignation for the treatment of her patient faltered to a sudden stop, as she saw Jolee's face.
"Who is this woman?" Jolee asked.
"Choy Verdan. She's a mechanic," Coro answered.
Jolee clipped his lightsaber back to his belt.
"Tell me everything you know about her," Jolee demanded.
Jolee had never encountered anything like Choy Verdan.
Jolee wore a tunic made from the hide of a Terentatek, a creation of Exar Kun, bred and twisted through Sith Alchemy to be immune to the Force (to hunt Jedi). It hid in the force, but was essentially an illusion. A trick of mirrors in the Force.
But this… this was different. The Force ended where the woman's body began. A human shaped bubble of emptiness. Something impossible. The Force was everywhere.
Except here.
Jolee blinked and stepped back, feeling as if he'd been staring into an abyss.
((()))
Darkness.
Patterns of force.
Pain.
Return to the form.
Unending.
((()))
Atton looked up from his food as more people entered the mess hall. One of them practically screamed Jedi. The brown hooded cloak was a giveaway. Not many people wore them anymore. Aside from refugees, of course.
The Jedi was here for them, Atton guessed.
"Tell me about Choy Verdan," the Jedi demanded, looking between Atton and Sully.
Instinctively Atton focused on the mechanic, the swell of breasts beneath the skin tight body suit, her short cropped hair, the curve of her jaw. He let the lust saturate his mind, and clung to the images.
The Jedi raised a gray eyebrow at him, and looked at Sully instead.
"How long has she been on Peragus?" the Jedi asked.
"I'm not sure. She's been there ever since I started working," Sully admitted.
"And how long is that?" the Jedi asked.
"About… seven years. I started after I left home. The pay was good," Sully explained.
And it let you avoid the war, Atton sneered, but remained focused on Choy's body.
"What about you?" the Jedi asked, looking at Atton.
"I started three years ago. She's always been here," Atton replied smoothly.
((()))
"Helm, bring us about, set course for the edge of the asteroid field," Captain Raxton said, standing at the prow of the bridge.
"Extend shields to cover the freighter," Commander Torrell ordered from the rear.
"Hopefully our visitor's business will be concluded by the time we clear the field," Raxton told Torrell. The junior officer nodded. Then he collapsed, a fine mist of blood flying from the back of his neck.
Raxton had a moment to blink before the primary weapons officer turned in his chair, staring at the falling commander, before his head twisted at an unnatural angle, and he tipped forward out of his chair.
Ensign Brikan howled, swinging the nearest weapon at hand (his datapad) at empty air. Then blood erupted from under the twi'lek's chin. Raxton lunged for the ship-wide com. Alert the crew.
He didn't make it.
Raxton felt a split second of pain, as something severed his spine above the C2 vertebrae.
He collapsed, barely feeling the pain as his face slammed into the console, his knees naturally propping him half-way upright. He couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. He blinked in mounting panic and horror. Indifferent hands pushed him aside, and Raxton fell onto his back, head cracking against unforgiving deckplates.
A black shape sat down at the terminal and begin to tap commands into the interface with brisk efficiency. There hadn't been time to secure the consoles… the ship's internal sensors, countermeasures—
((()))
Kel glanced at the control console, frowning. The boarding hatch had opened. Jolee was back already?
"Are we departing?" Kel called out.
Jolee didn't answer.
Kel turned as he felt a spike of pain, and terror from Lashowe.
The young man erupted from the cockpit, barreling down the corridor to the main hold.
T3-M4 squealed, integrated blaster firing at empty air as Lashowe scrambled across the hold towards Kel, left arm leaving a trail of blood behind her. She still held their daughter in her right arm.
One of the Peragus droids clattered into the hold, and T3-M4 blatted something at it. A moment later the crab-like droid raised its fire-suppression emitters. The beams of super-cooled fire-retardent chemicals hit something in mid air. Kel was already moving, lightsaber a red blur as he struck. A body tumbled into sight, bisected diagonally from the top left shoulder down to just above the right hip. A bloody knife was still clutched in one hand.
"Detach!" Lashowe barked.
Kel blinked, before he realized what she meant, and rushed back to the cockpit, severing the docking connection, and powering up the Ebon Hawk's maneuvering thrusters.
An alarm blared at him. Apparently the cruiser had extended its shields to protect them. Which meant they were trapped within the shields. Kel brought the Hawk down and activated the magnetic landing clamps, securing the ship to the cruiser's hull.
Then he ran back into the hold. His wife was injured. Again.
((()))
Choy woke up to the sound of screaming. Someone was dragging her out of the bed. Panicked, Choy fought for a moment, before recognizing the medical officer.
"Where is the Jedi?" a voice asked. It sent slivers of dread creeping through her mind.
Adrenaline coursed through Choy, as the medical officer dragged them behind one of the nearby kolto tanks, concealed by the bulky housing at its base.
The screaming cut off wetly.
Footsteps echoed off the deck plate.
Closer. Closer… then they stopped.
Choy clamped a hand over the medical officer's mouth, smothering the other woman's panting, holding her own breath.
Then the medical officer was gone, yanked from behind the housing.
"No!" the medical officer screamed.
"Where is the Jedi?" the voice repeated. Choy curled tightly against the housing, slowly peeking around its edge. She could see the door, and one black garbed leg.
"Mess hall," the medical officer choked.
Hot blood exploded, spattering Choy, and most of the room.
Something heavy hit the deck, and the doors to the medical bay opened.
HK-50 stood in the doorway, blaster pistol in one hand, a medical hypo held in the other. It seemed to hesitate for a moment, photoreceptors meeting Choy's, assessing the unexpected situation. Then it opened fire at something, backpedalling.
"You."
The kolto tank Choy hid behind ripped itself from the deck and pulverized HK-50 against the corridor wall. Apparently a power relay had been hit as well. The lights in the area died, before the amber emergency lighting engaged.
Choy didn't move, fully exposed.
Something stood two meters away from her, back to her. It looked like a man in the meager flickering light. Choy didn't even breathe.
After several long seconds the man started walking, disappearing down the corridor.
The adrenaline ebbed, and Choy felt her body screaming at her. She threw up, each heave making her chest hurt more, only a meter away from the medical officer's headless corpse.
Everybody around her was dying.
It was happening again.
((()))
"What kind of person is she?" the Jedi asked. Sully hesitated, glancing at Atton.
"She's… she keeps to herself," Sully admitted. Atton shifted a little farther to his right along the table, away from Sully, and continued eating.
The Jedi frowned.
"There's more to it, son," the old man said gently, acting the kindly grandfather. Atton didn't buy it. Jedi were hypocrites. They professed to be protectors of peace, but their signature weapon, the lightsaber, only had one setting. Kill.
"She's… sad," Sully whispered.
"Go on," the Jedi said encouragingly. He was probably using his powers on Sully, Atton suspected.
"She's always very careful. Makes sure everybody's safe. But she won't look people in the eyes. Doesn't let people touch her," Sully said, with mounting surety.
Definitely not acting like himself, Atton decided.
"She never spoke about where she came from before?" the Jedi asked.
"No," Sully said. Then he glanced down, thoughtfully.
"Well… maybe," the dock officer hedged.
"What did she say?" the Jedi asked, his kindly façade slipping a little. He was very interested, Atton saw.
"She has a utility droid. It's hers, she said, and she understands it. 3C-FD," Sully said.
Atton didn't see how that was helpful. A lot of people had utility droids. Republic space was lousy with the little cargo cylinders.
"I don't follow," the Jedi admitted, unable to see how it was relevant either.
"She loves that droid. I don't think she's ever wiped its memory, like most owners would, to prevent their droids from developing idiosyncrasies and… personality," Sully explained.
So the droid was probably a rolling record of the mechanic's history…
The Jedi leaned back thoughtfully, studying Sully from across the mess hall table. Then his brow wrinkled, and he looked over Sully's shoulder. After a moment, Sully turned to look over his shoulder, but there wasn't anything there.
"Playing tricks on me—" Atton heard the Jedi mutter, but there was a hint of uncertainty to his voice, and Atton noted that the Jedi's hand had crept back into his robes.
Atton's gut twisted, rolling with sudden anxiety. The Jedi's gaze flicked to him, eyes widening.
Then blood sprayed across the table, from Sully's neck, hitting the Jedi's robes.
Left carotid, Atton noted in the back of his mind, as his body kept him alive.
Atton instinctively grabbed Sully's falling body, using him as a shield in the time it took to slither under the table. A lightsaber snarled and hissed nearby. Atton scrambled along under the long mess hall table. He heard a blaster fire wildly, before it went silent, and clattered to the deck. Then the doors to the mess hall closed behind Atton, and the pilot blinked, taking a moment to think. The hanger was aft of the mess hall.
((()))
Choy trembled on all fours, trying to fight. Her fingers were numb, and the numbness had spread up her wrist, to her elbows. There wasn't enough air. Her lungs weren't large enough. Cold sweat glistened on her skin. She couldn't see. Crushing her… crushing—
It is not your eyes that are blind, a voice whispered.
She'd not had an attack in three years.
Choy focused on her fingers, studied the tiny scars earned from working with metal. Creases in her knuckles. Chipped fingernails.
There is no time for this foolishness, He is looking for you. You must find a means of leaving this vessel, the voice growled.
The numbness was in her wrists.
There was some dried kolto peeling off the back of her right hand in gentle, feathery flakes. Choy took a deep breath, fighting the urge to breathe rapidly, and softly exhaled, blowing on the tufts, watching them sway in the sudden breeze.
Her fingertips were numb.
Slowly Choy stood, studying her clenched fists. With one last deep breath, she let her fingers unfurl.
She was in control again.
If she followed her rules, she would be fine.
Choy realized she could hear a whirring noise, and a faint electronic beeping. Somewhere, a droid was in distress. Choy followed the sound deeper into the medical bay, and found a second body. Not the Peragus medical officer. This one was wearing a republic uniform. It had been thrown across the small surgical bay, and was sprawled on top of a medical droid. Choy avoided looking at the ragged neck stump, pulling on a still clean sleeve of the corpse, pulling it off the small droid.
With a muted string of clicks and beeps, the small surgical assistant tried to rise on its repulsorlift, attempting to straighten out the tangle of finely articulated grasper arms that hung beneath its body. There was blood on its cylindrical housing. It had been damaged in the fall. It continued to struggle with increasing distress.
Choy looked at the twitching droid sadly, before reaching down, and powering it off. She rose, and stared at the little droid for several seconds.
She couldn't abandon it.
((()))
Atton quietly closed the maintenance hatch behind him, secure in the darkness, no longer feeling as exposed in the brightly lit corridor. He carefully reassembled his hold-out blaster, mostly by touch. There were small flickers of colored light, indicators on the various panels and cables that surrounded him, but it was a sullen light, that seemed to make it harder to see. Atton didn't care. This crawl-space wouldn't take him to the hangers, but it would get him a hundred meters closer.
Whatever had killed Sully wasn't after Atton, so as long as he stayed out of the way, and did not present himself as a convenient kill… he should be fine. He doubted an invisible creature would bother with stealthy avenues of movement. It didn't need to hide. Sudden light blinded him, as a hatch opened ahead of him.
"Please!—" the plea was cut off by a wet choking sound, and Atton heard a body hit the deck. A hand sprawled into the wedge of light, and twitched for a few seconds before slackening. With the hatch open Atton could hear more screams, and occasional blaster fire, but the sounds seemed to be growing fainter. Atton waited until the sounds stopped, then waited another five minutes, just to be safe, before he began crawling forward again. He paused at the edge of the open hatch, cautiously peeking out. A terrified woman's face stared up at him, one hand out flung, as she reached for something she would never grasp. Her throat had been slit. She'd been trying to escape into the maintenance hatch. Other bodies littered the corridor. A couple lights were flickering, damaged by errant blaster bolts. Atton saw a blaster pistol half a meter away on the deck, but turned away, uninterested. It wasn't worth the risk, blasters clearly hadn't helped against the foe so far. The rogue continued on down the maintenance crawl-space.
((()))
"Seal the hatch," Olin panted, as Corporal Neran sabotaged the locking mechanism of the pressure door with his vibroblade.
"I've cut power to the activator. This door isn't going anywhere," the young man reported. A blast of sparks shot from the open panel, making the corporal recoil.
"Power surge?" Olin asked.
Before the young corporal could answer, the pressure door began to creep up into its housing.
"Cut the power!" Olin barked. Neran dove back to the open circuit panel, and began frantically hunting through the boards and circuits.
"I'm cutting power to this section," Neran yelped. The lights died, as did the air scubbers… but in the light of the marines helmet lamps, the door was still rising. There was a six centimeter gap. Then it halted.
"Stack up. Two ranks, seven meter distance, activate tac lights," Olin growled over the comlink. His mixture of marines and crewmen redressed their ranks, the armored marines crouching in the first rank, rifles leveled. Unarmored crewmen with blasters stood behind them, forced to rely on the marine's helmet mounted tactical lights for illumination. The grav plating had also failed, but the plating on Deck Four below them apparently still functioned, so although Olin felt lighter his boots were still resting on the deck.
Then they waited.
((()))
Choy shifted the small droid under her arm, trying to keep it from poking her healing ribs. Something made more difficult by the cramped crawlspaces she was using to hide from the thing from the med bay.
STOP.
The voice sounded almost like a shout, deafening Choy for a moment.
The mechanic froze in the darkness.
Death lies that way, the voice continued, a whisper this time.
The only way forward was down the dark access chute. Unless there was a maintenance access nearby…
((()))
Atton continued to wait, blaster leveled, at the source of the sounds he'd heard behind him in the darkness. It might be a crewmember. Or it might not. Atton wasn't going to lose sleep over it. He heard more furtive movements, but they hadn't grown closer… then a haze of light partially illuminated the duct, from around a corner, ten meters behind him. There was a click, and the light vanished.
Whatever it was had apparently decided to leave the duct, which was fine with Atton. He waited another seven minutes, blaster pointed, ready to fire, in case it was a trick, and the thing hadn't actually crawled out of the vent. Then he resumed his journey to the hanger bays.
((()))
"Sergeant… I don't think anyone's coming through," a crewman whispered.
The old sergeant felt a sudden sinking sensation.
"You two, come with me," the sergeant whispered, tapping the crewmen on their shoulders. "The rest of you, hold position," Olin finished.
He led the way down the unlit corridor, tac light slashing at the darkness… and his fears were realized.
A second emergency bulkhead had been lowered. They were trapped.
((()))
The ruinous echo paced the halls of ordered metal. The end of all things was close, but the echo could not perceive it. Intransient beings were brushed aside in the search, notable only by the brevity of their interactions with the husk. Explosions of matter and energy occasionally gave the echo pause, for a moment, long enough to employ slivers of power to protect the physical remnants of the manifestation from confusion that would require time to reorder. Time had no meaning. Inconsequential.
It was strange… for it to be fleeting.
((()))
"Jammed, sir," Cpl. Neran reported grimly.
"Fierfeik," Olin hissed, staring at the maintenance hatch.
There wasn't anything useful connected to this corridor, Olin knew, since all they had access to were a dozen enlisted crew quarters. Still, it was something to do.
"Split into pairs, a marine and an enlisted, start searching the quarters for anything we could use to repair or force the doors… tool kits, anything," Olin told Neran quietly.
"Even glow rods would be useful, for the crewmen," Neran noted, shrugging.
((()))
Atton slowly raised the hatch in the roof of the turbolift, squinting against the flickering light that leaked into the shaft. A dead ensign was sprawled in the lift below, a blaster bolt had cratered most of the man's face. Atton silently slithered through the hatch, hanging by his fingertips for a moment to arrest the resulting downward momentum, before dropping the ten centimeters to the deck, absorbing the impact in his knees to muffle his landing. He noted several blaster impacts in the wall on the far side from the closed lift doors. Looked like friendly fire. Atton disabled the turbo-lift's interior lighting, and the damaged light cut out. Atton found the manual release lever for the doors, and quietly inched them apart using the palms of his hands, until he could place an eye against the slit. No light. So the secondary lift doors were likely closed, or they were open, and the lighting had been knocked out in the corridor beyond.
The hanger was only fifty meters away.
((()))
Choy froze in the doorway of a darkened corridor. She felt safer in the darkness for some reason. It was not impenetrable though, because the emergency bulkhead before her had only partially fallen, leaving a gap at the bottom. She could see the occasional beam of a glow rod dart against that gap. She could also hear hushed voices. The voice was silent, so Choy took a chance.
She picked up a fallen blaster and rapped the butte against the bulkhead. Several lights converged on the bottom of the door, and Choy edged her feet closer to the wall, and out of any direct fire, should there be hostiles on the other side.
In the sudden silence of held breathe, Choy could hear armored boots quietly advancing towards the door.
"Identify," someone barked.
"Choy Verdan, Peragus Maintenance," Choy responded, "Identify," she challenged.
"Sergeant Olin, Republic Marines," the voice growled.
"Can you raise the blast door, sergeant?" Choy asked.
"No. Power's been cut to this section. Can you restore it from your side?" the sergeant asked.
"This ship… it's a hammerhead class, correct?" Choy asked.
"Yes…" the sergeant answered.
"Do you know if it's still using the old El-five internal configuration?" Choy asked.
"From the mandalorian wars? No, it's an El-seven," the soldier responded.
"Can you direct me to the nearest maintenance locker then?" Choy asked.
((()))
Atton scowled, and moved on to the next Aurek-class fighter. It too had been sabotaged. The rogue inspected the entire squadron… but someone had taken a vibro-blade to the flight controls and computer in each ship. They couldn't fly. Then Atton checked the two shuttles. Sabotaged. Damn.
Not that the shuttles would have done him much good without hyperdrives. Same for escape pods.
"Find what you're looking for?"
Atton spun and fired twice, barely perceiving the words.
Invisible fingers wrapped around Atton's blaster hand, skewing his aim wide.
The old man raised an eyebrow.
"You startled me," Atton shrugged.
"Twitchy fellow, aren't you?" the Jedi grumbled.
"It's why I'm still alive," Atton retorted.
The Jedi made a noncommittal noise, but was still holding Atton's blaster hand.
"Mind letting go?" Atton prodded, glancing down at his immobile hand.
"Hmm? Ah," the Jedi lowered his hand, and Atton's hand jerked, no longer straining against invisible forces.
"Someone disabled the support craft," Atton said, "You have a way off this ship?"
"Yes…" the Jedi said coolly, "But I need to find someone first."
((()))
Choy found the toolkit she needed thirty meters from the bulkhead, as well as an unexpected bonus, along the way. A crewman had been killed by stray blaster fire, not a blade, so his uniform was relatively clean. Choy gently closed his staring eyes, before pulling off the durable uniform. The boots were too large, so Choy simply rolled up the ankles of the uniform. Besides, her bare feet were nearly silent on the metal deck. She just had to watch out for debris that might cut her.
Choy opened the access hatch in the deck, staring at the mess with her new glowrod.
"Verdan, is that you?" a voice demanded.
"Yes, sergeant. I'm looking at the power distribution system now," Choy said, distracted.
"ETA on repairs?" the sergeant prodded.
"Something made a kriffing mess. Half of the safety systems are slag. Some kind of power surge," Choy reported, cautiously poking a power calibrator through the half-melted tangled nest. She could use the power calibrator to power the emergency bulkhead door, for roughly sixty seconds. Perhaps long enough to raise it high enough for people to slip under. She didn't know why there was a six centimeter gap. Without power, the bulkhead should have sealed itself, incase of hull breach. Something must have jammed in the mechanism, or broken… which might make raising it impossible, or merely problematic. She didn't have the tools to get into the housing or track.
"What about the maintenance hatch?" Choy asked.
"Jammed," the sergeant reported.
She had a fusion torch in the tool kit. The hatch would be simpler to cut through than repairing the damaged door.
Choy heard the sound of rending metal.
"Contact!" someone screamed.
"Form, ranks, concentrate fire!" someone yelled. Blaster fire drowned out any further words.
After only a few seconds though, the blaster fire died down to only sporadic shots, and Choy could hear screaming.
He is here. Hide, the voice whispered. Choy looked around frantically, then down, at the open access panel. Power had been cut. The exposed conduits weren't live. Probably.
Choy slithered down into the narrow space, and started to pull the panel down.
There's no release, Choy realized. The crawl space wasn't meant for people to access from the inside, so there wasn't a release on the inside.
Frantically Choy looked around for something flat and metallic, that she could wedge over the locking mechanism without revealing that the panel wasn't quite shut.
THERE IS NO TIME, the voice screamed, and Choy yanked the panel shut. She still had a fusion cutter.
The metal plate fell home over her, and she felt the tremor through the plate as the latch clicked, through her contact across her back.
There was a tremendous reverberation that Choy felt through her entire body, trapped in the airless, cramped space… probably the emergency bulkhead being breached.
Choy fought to keep her breathing under control. She couldn't have an attack here.
You are not alone, the voice whispered, cold claws caressed the back of her mind. It was meant as a kindness, Choy thought.
Something landed on the deck above her. She could feel it on her right shoulder. Something else fell, this time over her left shoulder.
It's standing over me… Choy realized. Footsteps.
There was silence for an endless heartbeat.
It knows… Choy bit her lip, focusing on her breathing, constricted as it was between the conduits and the hatch.
Impact. A foot step. Farther to the left.
Choy realized that the creature's slow pace hadn't actually faltered, just her perception of it.
She waited in the darkness, clutching her fusion cutter tightly. How long should she wait? There was only the air she had sealed in here… but too soon, and the creature might be drawn to the sounds of the fusion cutter…
The acrid stench of burnt plastics was starting to make her feel light headed.
((()))
Atton followed the Jedi cautiously, ears pricked for even the slightest clue that there was something invisible nearby. The lights were still on in this section, bright deceptively cheerful. Atton wanted to get back into the maintenance corridors…
The Jedi's hood was down, and he was constantly looking ahead, and behind.
Interesting, like he didn't trust his Force senses… only his eyes.
Atton didn't know why the mechanic was so important to the Jedi.
They rounded the corner, and the Jedi hesitated, studying the ruined corridor. A pressure bulkhead had fallen and locked itself. It had been split down the middle, and the two flaps peeled inward… lighting was out, making the gap appear to be a dark slot, malevolent almost, like a predator's pupil.
A damaged glow rod was flickering weakly about thirty meters away, within the next corridor, giving scanty illumination that actually made the darkness more confusing.
"I'll go first," the Jedi whispered, igniting his lightsaber. The crackle-hiss of the igniting blade made Atton jump for a moment.
Poor choice, unless he needs the illumination, Atton mused, shadowing the other man into the darkness. In the soft green light Atton spotted a lot of plastoid armor. It seemed the marines had made a stand here… and every corpse had fallen where they stood, though with the heads twisted at impossible angles.
Over the oppressive hum of the lightsaber, Atton heard a different noise. The rogue leveled his blaster, looking for the source, and the Jedi froze as well, listening.
Sounded like… a fusion cutter. There was a sudden flare of blue-white light from deeper into the darkness, and then it shut off.
The Jedi advanced, flicking his hand. An access panel flew up into the air, hanging motionless.
The person revealed did not.
She erupted from the access area, fusion cutter clenched in one hand, the other hand back, as if ready to parry or strike.
"Choy," Atton whispered harshly, as he advanced behind the Jedi.
"Pilot," Choy said coolly, then glanced at the Jedi, her expression unreadable.
"My name is—" the Jedi began to say.
"Unimportant. Something is killing the crew. Something strong," Choy interrupted.
"Yes. I don't sense anything else alive on this ship," the Jedi confirmed.
Choy's eyes fluttered for a second.
"We need to get off, the hanger is that way," she said, pointing.
"Everything's disabled," Atton interrupted, "Besides, the Jedi has a ship."
"We should go, before it comes back," Choy said, glancing at the ruined pressure door, as she hurriedly slipped tools back into a carry case, and threw the carry strap across her shoulder.
"Agreed, my dear," the Jedi said, smiling.
((()))
"This is the last time," Kel said quietly, caressing Lashowe's sweat drenched bangs out of her eyes.
Lashowe was asleep, their daughter curled within her open tunic, little fingers curled against her mother's chest.
After this… they would find somewhere quiet. Build a life. Kel did not wish to be there when Jolee found his death.
As if on cue, Kel felt a sudden, inexorable need, through the Force.
It was Jolee. Communications were probably still being jammed… the question, was which docking port?
Kel kissed his wife, and his daughter's tiny head. It was time to get to work…
((()))
Jolee watched Choy Verdan, as she led them through the damaged bowels of the ship. Without being able to probe her mind, he was left with only his perceptions of her. It was a novel sensation.
What the boy had told him of Verdan earlier was an understatement, if anything. She was aloof, almost to the point of hostility. Definitely to the point of rudeness.
But, she kept glancing back, checking on them. These were not like the predatory glances of the man behind Jolee. She was not checking to see if they were about to attack her, but rather, that they were still present; or so Jolee believed. It was strange to trust gut instinct, rather than being able to validate his conclusions through the Force.
The mechanic halted, raising a borrowed blaster.
"Stay where you are," she said coldly. Jolee squinted, and could barely perceive a heat shimmer, at the end of the lit corridor. Or it was just his eyes.
"Choy, can you see them?" the man hissed behind Jolee.
"Yes. It's wearing a light weight EVA suit. Black, with red lenses. It has a vibroblade," Choy responded quietly.
Jolee really didn't want to tangle with another assassin. The one he'd killed had been more luck than skill. He could see flickers of movement, but he couldn't sense them directly.
"By all means, shoot, my dear," Jolee whispered. It might disrupt the assassin's technique, if nothing else.
A stun blast erupted from the blaster, the wide ring of energy nearly filling the corridor, surprising Jolee. A stun blast?
For a split second, a black figure was exposed, staggering back.
Jolee darted forward, drawing on strength and speed from the Force, quickening his perceptions. The helmeted head began to turn, to look at Jolee, as the wrong-footed assassin reached for his own power.
Jolee beat him to it, neatly bisecting his foe from crown to groin, just after the assassin vanished from view, before flickering back into sight again. Jolee wasn't taking chances. Jolee glanced back at the two Peragian personnel. Verdan's face was white, her lips pressed in a thin line, her knuckles white from how tightly she clenched the blaster.
Jolee didn't know what emotion was swirling in those blue eyes. It was powerful, whatever it was. The woman stalked past him, glancing at the two bloodless halves of the corpse, pausing only to pick up the vibro-blade, before moving on.
((()))
Kel felt a burst of irritation from Jolee. Wrong airlock. Alright then… the young man detached, and goosed his maneuvering thrusters, heading for the starboard lock.
((()))
"Hurry, I can't keep them closed much longer!" the Jedi shouted, sweat dripping from his brow, as he held his hands against the outer airlock doors. Someone on the bridge was trying to open them, and vent the deck into space.
Choy dug inside the command panel interface, finding the external protocol and subroutine buffer. She sliced it out with the fusion cutter, before activating the manual override, and cut power to the activator. She cut the command pathways too, just to be sure. This wasn't her area of expertise.
"These doors aren't going anywhere," Choy reported.
"Great. Then how do we get out when the ship docks?" Atton demanded.
"Lightsaber," Choy shrugged.
"Those doors are durasteel…" Atton complained.
"It will take a few minutes to cut through. It's still better than breathing vacuum," Choy retorted, as she ran back to the access panel in the main corridor, and started tripping every emergency system she could. Pressure doors fell at intervals, locking down the corridor. She hadn't used any electronic commands to do it, so anyone in the bridge would have to override the safeguards to make the doors rise… something only someone with an actual interface hack could accomplish, or someone with the proper clearance to access the system. Either way, it would take time.
The deck shook slightly, as something mated with the airlock.
"Good boy," the Jedi whispered, igniting his lightsaber, shooing everyone to the sides, and started cutting into the door. A red tip also appeared, mirroring him from the other side of the door. The blades were inching through the metal.
The deck shook.
"Feirfeik. Are the shields down?" Atton demanded.
Choy shrugged helplessly. No sensors.
"That felt like hull impact," Atton insisted. It happened again.
"Miss, need you to do something for me," the Jedi said, without looking away from his work.
"What?" Choy asked.
"Keep cutting, and I'll need to borrow that vibro-blade," the Jedi answered.
"Why?" Choy asked, dreading the answer.
"Because something is ripping its way through the pressure bulkheads, and this door won't be open in time," the Jedi answered. He pulled one of his hands off the hilt of his lightsaber, and gestured for Choy to take it. She hesitated for a moment, before another impact trembled through the ship. How many doors had she seen fall? Four, maybe five?
The mechanic sharply jerked her mind back to the present, handing the serrated vibro-blade to the Jedi as she roughly grabbed the hilt of the proffered lightsaber. She focused on cutting. It was just a big fusion cutter. A beam drill even. She fought to hold that image in her mind… because the sensation of thrumming power in her hands was so similar… so much like she remembered. She had forgotten what it felt like. Her arms wanted to idly swing and pivot the humming beam, to test its weight—
Stop it! Choy howled, focusing on her mechanist hands, the grime. Hands that held tools, not weapons. Hands that built, that created.
She was Choy Verdan.
It was not the name of her birth, but it's who she was now. That was all that mattered.
((()))
The shell of a man pushed through another obstruction. Shadows had spoken to him, revealed where his goal lay. The end of all things.
Only, it seemed the shadows had not been wholly correct.
She stood before him. He recognized her. He could still dimly see with his intact left eye. He saw her… but could not feel her.
The shell carried no mundane weapons. He used his power to collect debris, and launched it at the end of all things, as he could not harm it directly.
She raised a hand, and the shell felt the force respond.
The debris diverted harmlessly.
The shell shambled into a broken run. He would kill with his hands.
The end of all things must die. She was quick, and moved well, avoiding his attacks. A blade severed tendons with care, hampering the shell's movements, but never slowing him.
((()))
Choy glanced over her shoulder, from the sounds of… battle. Metal rang with incredibly forceful blows, and the scuffle of boots on deckplates… but no shouts, no ring of weapons, no blaster shots.
The Jedi scrabbled into view on all fours, having lost his cloak at some point, and the vibro-blade. An arm punched the deck, barely missing the Jedi. Choy felt the impact through the soles of her feet. In proper lighting… Choy wished she couldn't see the "man" that attacked the Jedi. It was a corpse, bloodless gashes and slashes ignored… and the arm that had just punched the deck with such force was clearly broken in several places… and still somehow functional.
Choy spotted the Jedi's missing vibro-blade, lodged in the corpse's spine, level with the pelvis… yet it was still walking.
Power blinded him long ago, and his senses betray him, the voice whispered, amused, in Choy's head.
What do you mean? Choy demanded, turning back to cutting the door. They were almost finished.
It was a simple thing to play with his perceptions. He believes the Jedi is you, the voice answered.
The simple answer sent a chill through Choy.
Why does he hunt me? Choy asked, but the voice didn't answer. Perhaps from fatigue.
There was a tremble, which was Choy's only warning as the airlock door began to fall towards her.
"Back!" Choy said, pushing Atton with her, who'd been focused on the ongoing struggle ten meters away. A young man with a red lightsaber and loose black flight suit stared at her, nonplussed.
Then his eyes widened, as he saw what lay behind them.
"Jolee!" the man shouted.
"Kalixi!" the other Jedi snarled.
The young man with the red saber faltered for a second.
"Are you sure?" he called.
"Kalixi!" the unarmed Jedi howled, as he nearly lost his head to the corpse's reverse kick.
Without further hesitation the young man ushered Choy and Atton onboard, sealing the ship's inner airlock door, dashing off into the bowels of the ship. Choy followed close on his heels.
Choy heard his lightsaber deactivate, before she found him in the cockpit.
She didn't ask questions, simply strapped herself into one of the auxiliary chairs.
((()))
By the force he was getting too old for this. Kalixi… oh he was insane… Jolee ducked another of the Force perversion's attacks, and felt the deck plates shudder as the locking arms retracted. And…
Air began to whistle, then roar as the Ebon Hawk backed away from the Harbinger. Atmosphere was venting through the open airlock, and all of the breached pressure bulkheads…
The corpse grabbed onto a stanchion, halting its attack in the sudden maelstrom. Jolee threw himself forward, exhaling as he ran for the empty void framed by the damaged airlock. He could see the Ebon Hawk thirty meters away. Jolee felt his lungs trying to unfold out through his nostrils as he hit vacuum, and his eyes began to flash freeze. He kicked off as he passed the airlock, aiming squarely for the Ebon hawk's open outer airlock doors. He glided through the empty void… something almost peaceful, except for the splitting headache, and his ringing ears, and—
Jolee ignored his body's many complaints about vacuum exposure, as he thudded against the inside of the Ebon Hawk's airlock and the grav plating asserted its will on him again. He hit the control panel to begin the pressurization sequence. As the doors closed, Jolee locked gazes with his opponent, who was now standing in the open airlock of the Harbinger. Apparently the deck had finished venting, because the corpse had no trouble standing there… watching him. Then it turned, and walked deeper into the cruiser.
The outer doors sealed with a silent thud, heard through the soles of one's feet… before sweet atmosphere began to pump into the chamber. Jolee waited another thirty seconds before he inhaled. Then he collapsed.