Chapter 17: Help

"I will stay behind and guard the ship. Good luck with Master Vey, Captain."

"Thanks, CeeCee," Merrit replied, but could not entirely repress an angry grumble.

He had still not forgiven the droid for locking him out of the bridge. Though at the same time…

Merrit slipped on his coat, and sighed.

He hated to admit it, but the droid had been right.

He had needed to talk to Bayla.

His vision had been distracting him, and even though he didn't tell her about it, sitting with her, speaking with her, had helped clear the air, and laid to rest many awkward feelings from way back.

We were children, he realized, and neither of us had understood, not at the time. He had tried to let her down easy, but he caused her pain, she had thought she was in love with him, and he had broken her heart.

Talking with her about that time, had helped. They both realized now that they had been two people in two different places, too young to understand what was truly going on. Time had healed that wound, and now…they could move on.

She acknowledged her childish attraction, and had moved on. They had both come to terms with the past, and now it was done.

Now, they could move forward.

Despite the possible future he had seen, he thought he could think objectively now.

He was sure that he could focus on the job, and that job was almost done.

All he had to do was get Back-up to Master Vey, and he was done. He could arrange transport off this world, Bayla could take CeeCee and the Knightfire, use it to get to where ever it was that Master Vey decided was best, where she could get some real help.

Then…he would take his mother's old ship, and go back on the hunt, content that he had done the best for his late master's daughter.

Then…he could go back into his exile.

Are you sure that is what you want, his mother's voice echoed through the Force.

Are you sure that going back on the hunt is what is best?

"It may not be what I want, mom," he replied silently, "but it was what was best for Bayla."

He shook his head.

He could not deny what he was. He had become poison to those that had been the friends of Fenn Shadowstone. He had brought down so much death and grief upon them.

He would not do so to Bayla. She…had suffered enough.

Mirax Fallenstar's voice stayed silent. He took that as her acceptance of his reasoning.

There were plenty of actual heroes that could stand beside Bayla as she fought to free her people.

He…was not one of them.

It had not been easy, accepting what he had become, but he had.

He could live with that now, but he didn't want anyone else to suffer because of it.

He left his quarters and made his way to the loading ramp. He could sense Bayla was already outside waiting for him.

He pushed up the red lenses over his eyes, hiding the glow that was a constant there.

He had been here a few times, first with Master Jas, and then…finally…on his own. Though far from a paradise, the planet was peaceful. Dry and arid in most places, but comfortable enough around the large bodies of water that were scattered across the planet. The main settlement was close to where Master Vey chose to live. The people lived in the valley, while she chose to remain in the mountains.

He tried to sense her presence, but could not, only the gentle hum of the light, a hum that was to be expected on a world where a powerful Jedi Master had lived for literal centuries.

Even if she wasn't here, he suspected that one of the town leaders would know where she went. She had developed a great rapport with these people over the ages.

Someone would know something, he was sure, and even if she wasn't here, one of Vey's contacts would be useful in getting Bayla help.

"Hey Merrit," Bayla called up from outside.

"Hey what?" he responded.

"Why are we here?" she asked, "Why land in town, and not where ever it is that Master Vey is staying?"

"Two reason, the first, one does not simply drop in on a Jedi Master unannounced, and second, because I'm not sure where she is staying," he answered, "There are dozens, if not hundreds of abandoned dwellings in the mountains around this settlement. Vey has lived in many of those over the years. She could be in any of them."

"But why? Why not remain in one place?"

Who knows, he thought to himself, maybe the Jedi Master grew bored living in the same place for decades, maybe she enjoyed fixing up a new dwelling every several decades.

He could have said that, but tried to look at it from Vey's point of view, and the fact that the galaxy had been at war for almost half a century.

"Security is part of the reason, I suppose," he added, "Changing places would make it hard for an enemy to locate and harm her. Not that Vey would be so easily harmed."

Merrit quirked his lip.

"Vey doesn't need traditional defenses, or so your dad told me once."

"She has defenses?"

"She has the Force. Your Dad saw her almost take down a ship coming through the atmosphere here once. She threw boulders at it. I wouldn't be surprised if there were several wrecked ships in those mountains, brought down when the master decided she didn't want any uninvited guests."

Bayla laughed nervously.

"I guess we are lucky we didn't get that type of greeting."

He nodded.

Yes, he thought.

Considering she told me never to come back.

He shook his head.

So far…they were lucky.

"So," he heard Back-up call out, "This is Vey's hermitage world?"

"Yes," he replied, "It's official name is Jomark, and Vey has lived here for several centuries."

He heard the princess chuckled.

"It is easy to forget how old Master Vey is. I've only met her a handful of times myself, but I really…"

He stepped down the ramp and stood beside her. Bayla's had paused mid-sentence. He could feel her eyes on him.

"What is it?" he inquired.

"Nothing," she replied, looking down at the ground, the grey bodysuit and matching poncho she wore was acceptable dress on any Republic world, suggesting nothing, and at the same time hiding her identity, with the hood pulled up, you couldn't see her face, only her mouth and jaw was visible.

It was safer to hide her face, experience had taught him that. Even here on Jomark, there was a slight chance that a bounty puck bearing Bayla's face had found itself into the hands of someone ambitious, someone who might contact a hunter looking for a finder's fee. Jomark was isolated enough that most hunters tried to maintain a contact or two.

Isolated enough to hide, but close enough to civilization. Places like this were havens for those on the run.

He glanced up at her, Bayla had turned her head, but he could make out a bit of her face, even beneath the hood of her poncho, he could see a slight pink glow to her cheeks.

Strange, he thought.

Was she blushing?

"You…um…you clean up nice." She said.

He shrugged.

"I thought it best to not appear threatening."

He had slicked back his unruly hair, and shaved off the last of his beard. It made him look younger somehow, despite the early effects of dark side necrosis, his yellow eyes, and paler skin.

He couldn't do anything about that, but at least he could hide his eyes, and do his best not to look like a threat.

He looked down at himself. It had been almost a year since he had last worn this suit. He had been working as a bodyguard for House Alde. The black leggings, matching waistcoat, white shirt, and red over coat had been in style on Alderaan at the time.

Most thought him another noble, some minor lord or duke that lived in isolation, most of the Alderaani higher ups had not realized he was a bodyguard.

He had fit in well on Alderaan, but like most places, he had not been able to stay there. It was a world, despite its peaceful reputation, that pulled at his darker tendencies.

On Alderaan, he had even started to accept when people called him a lord. He looked like one, they said, especially in this suit.

Bayla was still looking down shyly.

"Nice suit," she murmured.

He shrugged again.

"It served its purpose."

The two began to walk towards town, the spaceport was in the courtyard of a long-abandoned fortress. Built in a time when thick high stonewalls could keep an enemy out. There was no port authority here. Jomark was not a world that received many visitors. It was in the Republic registry, but it had little to offer any of the major galactic powers, and so…it was mostly ignored or simply left alone.

Probably why Vey had chosen it when she began her hermitting ages ago.

They made their way across a long stone bridge, the only way out of the abandoned fortress; the main settlement was just on the other side. The fortress sat on a small island ringed with a deep moat. The buildings that made up the town were old structures, built from plain white stone, with nothing over three stories.

"Reminds me a bit of home," Bayla said forlornly.

Merrit nodded, he could see that. The Bann capital was an old city, its tan stone structures rising up from the beaches and into the highlands where the palace sat.

These buildings were white stone, but the design was similar enough that Bayla saw the familiar in it.

Even now, he could sense a bit of homesickness in his companion, he reached out with the Force, trying to comfort her.

She would see her home again; he was sure of it. There were enough good people in the galaxy who would fight for Bayla's cause. She just had to be brave enough to wait until she could find them.

As they crossed into the village, he noticed something else, something that even Bayla picked up on.

The princess frowned.

"Where is everyone?"

"Dunno," he replied, his eyes narrowing behind his glasses. The settlement was no small town, several hundred people lived here. The last time he had visited with Master Jas, the square they now found themselves in had been packed. The people were out and about, the stalls and shops were busy, with many customers, or simply people passing by. The small beast drawn carts that ferried people to and from the fortress had been everywhere…

Yet now, the place looked deserted, the shops were closed, the stalls empty, their awnings pulled down, and the carts were all parked near the bridge, their beasts calling out.

Through the Force, he could tell they were not alone, more importantly, their arrival had not gone unnoticed, many eyes were upon them now. He could sense their regard.

Bayla looked up at him, a frown on her own face.

"Are these people normally hostile to outsiders?"

"They were not the last time I was here," he replied, "Of course, back then, I was travelling with your father. He had trained with Master Vey here during his youth. People knew him, and remembered him."

Merrit shook his head.

"Maybe something happened since then, maybe some outsiders caused problems."

"Maybe," she agreed, "Maybe people from Zakuul came here, or the Sith. They might have made trouble."

It was possible, he thought, but quickly dismissed it.

Vey defended these people, they trusted her.

He could not imagine her letting anyone make trouble for her neighbors, not without responding in kind.

He reached out with the Force, trying to get a greater sense of what was going on, and again, found himself denied.

Curious.

He could sense the eyes on them, but…he could not pick out any single presence. It felt like some kind of mist had filled the Force, blocking his abilities to detect direct threats.

He didn't like that. He didn't like that one bit!

He was tempted to have him and Bayla turn around. They could take the Knightfire and leave.

At the same time, he wasn't sensing any malice, no direct threat to their presence.

Could this be Vey's doing? It was possible. She had warned him not to return.

If so, he would not be scared off like some ill-educated nerf herder.

Bayla needed help.

Vey would damn well listen to her, and in Jas' memory, would do what was best for her former Padawan's daughter.

"Shall we check out the local cantina?" Bayla suggested, "If something is going on…"

"Not a bad thought," Merrit agreed, he led them through the streets, remembering where it had been.

Vey occasionally came into town, took meals there from time to time.

If she was behind what he was feeling, she might even be there.

They didn't rush or panic, the two travelers made their way slowly and deliberately through the empty streets. Merrit kept his senses stretched outward, looking for any possible threat. He walked two steps ahead of Back-up, just in case he needed to cover their escape.

"Was it one of my father's?"

Her question drew him back to the physical world.

"What?"

"Your suit. I don't remember him ever wearing anything like that at court."

Her choice of conversation surprised him, but recognized it for what it was.

She is trying not to focus on her anxieties, she is ready if a fight does come, but not looking to provoke one.

A wise attitude, he knew.

He tried to do the same.

"No," he answered, "I purchased it at a trading port a year ago."

Bayla smiled.

"I didn't realize that those trained in the Jedi way had such good taste. For fashion, I mean."

He snorted at her comment.

"Fashion doesn't really interest me. The suit was picked out be another. She knew I was about to take a job for an Alderaani noble."

The memory made him chuckle.

"I was lucky, T'wyn knew just what I needed to make a good first impression."

"Tah-win?" Bayla said, "Who was that?"

"The daughter of a Twi'lek merchant, T'wyn Secura. I worked for her on a job. Her father had gone missing, and her great uncle was causing problems. We saved the old man, and afterward, I hitched a ride on one of her family's ships. We travelled together briefly. T'wyn was…a good friend."

Bayla quirked her lip.

"Was this girl a friend, or a friend?

Merrit paused, he was not sure how best to answer.

Finally, he decided to be honest.

"We were…lovers for a time. We had had an adventure together, and it…it brought us closer. We both knew it was nothing serious. She was a merchant's daughter, meant to wed one of her clan's allies. I was a hunter. We enjoyed our time together, and let it pass, but…it was not serious. It was a fling. Fun…but…"

He glanced over at Bayla; he sensed a bit of coldness in their connection.

Why?

He thought they had dealt with all their old issues.

"I tried, Back-up," he said.

"Tried what?"

"Tried to go back to the old Jedi lifestyle. After Survivor Base fell, I tried to live as a Jedi Knight again. I…I couldn't do it. I could not turn off my emotions. They continued to have a hold on me. I could no longer distance myself from people. Fear, anger, regret…lust, they were a part of me now, and influenced my actions. It was then that I realized that my fall to the dark side was complete. I wasn't a Sith, but…I…I don't think that I could ever be a Jedi again."

"I see," she said, he expected to sense revulsion at his weakness, he had felt that from many of the Jedi he had sought out for aid during his first year of exile, before he had come to accept his fate.

"You can't go home again," she said.

He blinked.

"Huh?"

"It is something Master Kit said to me. When I told her I was leaving the Paladina and joining the defense force. She thought I was making a mistake, trying to go back to my old life, the noble life."

Bayla shook her head.

"When I linked with Master Kit, my Force connection was forever bound to my Paladina brothers and sisters. I thought…thought that I could escape that. She tried to tell me that I could not run from my destiny, I had started down a path that I could not turn away from. Whether I wanted to, or not."

"Sounds like something that a Jedi might say," he replied.

"Yeah," she agreed, "I guess neither of us can go back to being who we were. You can't be the naïve Jedi, and I can't be the spoiled princess."

"You were hardly spoiled. Trust me, I saw what spoiled looked like. T'wyn loved playing the pampered spoiled rich girl, but it was an act, she used it to put her father's allies and enemies off balance."

"It sounds like you are still fond of her."

"I suppose that I am. Since my…fall, I've…taken three women to my bed, and…those experiences have left their mark. They all changed me in subtle ways."

"Relationships do that," Bayla agreed, " My own were…interesting."

"Really," he smirked, "I didn't realize you had taken young men to warm your bed."

Her blush darkened beneath her hood.

"We Paladina do not shy away from relationships, as you might have heard. As for mine, well…I was betrothed once, one of my mother's allies in the capital. His son and I attended academy together, so they thought we would be a good match. We were both eighteen and…were friendly as children…and more than friendly actually when we met a few years later."

"I see," Merrit replied, he was shocked when a slight twinge of jealousy spiked through his heart.

"I take it the marriage didn't go forward?"

"It didn't work out. He thought we should focus on our political ambitions, and asked me to abandon my Paladina heritage, throw away my lightsaber and blaster, and simply be a good noble woman."

"Did he say that?"

"Not in so many words, but…yeah."

Merrit shook his head.

Fool.

Jedi training could not simply be abandoned. Even the failed padawans that went to the agro-corps in the old days never fully stopped using it. The Jedi overseers tried to prevent it, but they couldn't change who their charges were.

Bayla's frown deepened.

"He…um…wasn't the last. There was someone…a year ago," she confessed, "Capper, he wasn't a noble. He was just another sailor on my ship, and agreed to go with me when I went into hiding. We spent a lot of time together. He served as my bodyguard and aid during our attempts to find someone to help free our world."

Merrit nodded.

"And you two became close."

"He was attracted to me; he had not denied that. We…got close. Finally, we became lovers, for a few weeks. Then…a group of my own people mutinied, one of them cut Capper's throat while he was asleep. He…we…"

Merrit paused. He put a hand on her shoulder, making her stop, she looked up at him from beneath her cowl. He could see tears in her eyes.

"It wasn't your fault," he said.

"Certainly feels like it was," she sniffled, "They wanted to go home, those that betrayed me. They thought if they gave me to the Sith then…"

"The Sith would have killed them as soon as they had you, Back-up. They might have even killed you; you are probably the only reason that your family on Bantoon is still alive. The Sith fear making you a queen. They don't want you to have a title to rally your people around."

"I suppose," she said wiping at her eyes.

She shook her head.

"Gods, I can't believe that I'm telling you all this."

He chuckled.

"You should be able to speak plainly with a friend," he answered.

That made her smile. He felt her reach out through the Force, her connection felt…warm, even lost in his darkness.

Her smile lit up her face.

"It is nice to have a friend again."

He nodded.

"Yes, it is."

They resumed their journey to the cantina. Merrit frowned slightly.

It is nice to have a friend again.

Bayla's words disturbed him.

He spent a lot of time alone. It was safer that way, or so he told himself. Yet, he could not deny that the darkness within him held more and more sway the longer he remained alone. CeeCee helped, but it didn't really count. The droid couldn't fill the Force with a living presence. His…girlfriends had helped, but they all left, or he left them. It had been almost eight months since he had ended his last relationship. He and Fable had been living on Coruscant at the time. They…

I liked Fable, his mother's voice echoed through his head.

I think you two could have been happy.

Doubtful, he thought in reply, of all of his flings, the last had been the most intense. As intense as the woman herself.

Even now, thinking about it made his body stir.

Fable Asher was a professional treasure hunter, and she had a glimmer of Force potential, just enough to be drawn to Jedi and Sith artifacts. She had hired him to help her find one, that was how they had met.

Even now the memory made him shake his head.

They had first become lovers when the fool girl had placed her prize, a Sith tiara, on her head. The item had been bound the spirit of a Sith female who had been a lover of Tulak Hord. Possessed by the tiara, Fable had come to him, tried to seduce him. The spirit had wanted to use him and Fable to produce a new life, a body that she could inhabit, and be reborn into.

After Survivor Base, after Avaryss and Taya, he had learned the dangers of such things. He had made a promise to himself.

I will not be made a fool by a Sith again, living or dead.

He had…done what the Sith spirit wanted, but used the Force to prevent certain things from going as they should have naturally. Finally, when the spirit had been lost in sensation, distracted, he had been able to tear the tiara from Fable's head, freeing her. She had gasped, falling to her knees, unsure of where she even was.

He had cursed the girl for a fool. What had she been thinking playing with a Sith artifact, much less trying it on.

He shook his head.

Despite being possessed, Fable still didn't take the matter seriously. Her first thought when freed was why am I undressed, and when he told her what happened, how she had almost been used, she had merely smirked, smirked and asked him…

"So, um, was It good for you?"

He had been angry, but seeing her in such a state, vulnerable, and excited, by the danger she had just escaped. They had…both gotten lost. He certainly had, his passions had gotten the better of him, both of them. She had been attracted to him since they had met, and, in that one charged moment, one thing had led to another.

Fool girl, he thought even now, foolish…but so very passionate.

Working together, living through danger, they had both gotten lost, and their desires had consumed them…

…it had been a glorious whirlwind of lust!

Being with Fable, for the first time…he felt…happy.

As a Jedi, it was not something he was used to, contentment was the best he had hope for.

His passionate little treasure hunter had changed all that.

For a time, she had even made him forget Avy, and what had happened at Survivor Base.

They were together for almost three months, it had been…exciting. They had had one adventure after another. Seeking treasures, and enjoying every minute of it. Fable was an adrenalin junkie. She loved danger, delighted in getting in and out of risky situations, and the lovemaking after…it was intense, he had not been able to deny that. Merrit had started getting lost in her during their relationship, his dark side tendencies had been drawn to what she offered, both in her lifestyle, and her lustful advances, but finally, he had come to realize that they were toxic together. They were constantly being drawn to more and more dangerous situations. She was going to get herself killed, get them both killed.

That and my children, he thought morosely.

When he had started dreaming of Andur and Anj again, the relationship had ceased to be distracting, ceased to be fun.

So, he had ended it.

He went back on the hunt, losing himself in violence.

Between jobs, he had spent the next few weeks mopping, or so CeeCee said, and he couldn't deny it.

He missed her, but it was for the best.

They had been dangerous together…too dangerous.

He looked over at Bayla, he could see something of Fable and T'wyn in her, traits that he was drawn to, and admired…

…and in that moment, he made a decision.

He recognized what he was feeling, and knew it was time to move on.

Once Bayla was safe, he would need to leave her.

He could sense a connection forming, or rather reforming, their brief childhood interactions forming a web between them. He would need to leave before it got any stronger.

We can be friends, that was all, and that is for the best.

A friend knows when to leave, when it is best of both of them.

The vision of Bayla with Sith eyes still haunted him.

He would not let that happen.

Vey would not let it happen.

They would find her.

They found themselves outside the cantina.

Merrit nodded.

They would find Vey.

She would know what to do.

IOI

They arrived to find the cantina packed.

The dimly lit room was full of people, all dressed in traditional Jomark garb. Men played cards while several couples chatted amiably over drinks. The only open seats were at the bar, where a lone human bartender dealt with his customers one by one.

Again, Merrit reached out with the Force, and again…he felt his regard blocked, his senses blocked somehow.

His suspicions about this place remained.

Bayla must have picked up on it, she reached out and touched his arm.

"We came here for a reason", she reminded him.

He nodded.

Yeah, they had.

She put on a brave smile.

"Let me do the talking."

She led the way, with him following close behind. She made straight for the bar, a winning smile on her face.

The bartender noticed and moved to greet them.

"Afternoon strangers," he said, "What can I get you?"

"Two Gizer ales, please." She answered politely.

The man nodded and produced two mugs, filling them with golden liquid.

Merrit joined her, but still kept his head on a swivel, something was not quite right here.

He didn't intend to be caught unaware.

"Haven't seen many new commers of late," the barkeep said wiping down an empty glass.

"What brings you two here?"

Bayla nodded thanks before taking her first drink.

"We are looking for someone, an old friend. She lives somewhere in the mountains."

The barkeep frowned.

"No one lives in those mountains," he said flatly.

"Really," she said with a tilt of the head, "Are you sure?"

The old bartender scowled.

"No one lives in those mountains."

Merrit placed his ale to his lips, but didn't drink.

The whole mood of the bar had changed, he could feel it.

All eyes were on them, everyone listening to the barkeep, who had spoken just loud enough to be heard over the hum of conversation and cards.

"You okay there, boy. You look pale…sick."

Merrit looked at the speaker, a large muscular man in a farmer's tan and white garb.

"I was ill," he lied, "But I'm feeling much better now. Thank you."

Bayla paused in her conversation, she had sensed it too, the spike in attention they were receiving.

The large farmer rose from his seat, he was armed, with both a blaster, and a large vibroknife.

So, that is how it is, Merrit thought readying himself.

So much for a peaceful meeting with Master Vey.

"We don't want any trouble," Bayla said, backing away from the bar. Merrit moved himself between her and the farmer.

If a farmer was what he was.

Now, all eyes were on them, card games had stopped, couples stopped embracing. All watched the confrontation at the bar.

Merrit smiled.

He could feel the darkness rising within him.

Oh, he almost giggled.

This was going to be fun!

"Take off your glasses, kid," the farmer ordered, "Let's see your eyes,"

"You don't want to do this," he warned.

But I do.

A shiver ran down his spine.

It had been a few weeks since he destroyed the knights of Bantoon.

He had not shed blood in a while.

The darkness was in need of some.

"We didn't come here for violence," Bayla shouted, her hand just above her blaster. We came here seeking our friend."

"There is no one living in those mountains," the barkeep said again, "People here…NO!"

The man had gently nudged Bayla's half full glass, it tipped and started to fall, drawing Merrit's attention for the briefest of moments.

The farmer moved quick, his vibroknife was out, going for the hunter's throat.

He was fast, but with the dark side flowing through him…

Merrit was faster.

One minute the man was lunging, the next he was up on his toes, Merrit swatted the blade away with his hand, and caught the man in a Force choke. His left hand raised his fingers forming a claw.

The farmer gasped, and tried to stagger back, but he couldn't.

Merrit grinned.

So it begins!

Everyone in the bar drew a blaster of some type, a collection of pistols, sawed off rifles, and even a heavy repeater wielded by a Weequay in the back.

All were pointed at the hunter and his companion.

"No," Bayla called out her lightsaber and blaster both in hand. The silver blade lighting up the shadows.

"This isn't what we want!" she shouted.

Merrit almost laughed.

Speak for yourself Back-up.

He needed this.

His saber slid from his wrist sheath, he ignited the blade with an evil hiss, its orange beam glowed like a flame on his would-be victim's face.

The farmer, struggled, his eyes widened.

Fool, Merrit thought.

What did he expect.

"Sithy-freak!" someone in crowd shouted.

"Let him go!"

"No," the hunter replied.

He was tempted to break the man's neck, payment for someone daring to call him Sith, but he held back.

He was curious.

"Turn him loose," the barkeep said, holding an old slug-thrower chest level.

"Merrit! Don't hurt him," Bayla ordered, "These people are only…"

"They're not farmers, Bayla," he snarled.

He pointed at the farmer.

"This one has a gang tattoo. I recognize it, it's from Nar Shaddaa."

He looked at the bartender.

"This one has a barcode on his neck, a prisoner stamp, if I'm not mistaken.

He didn't take his eyes off his prey, but he did address the barkeep.

"Where are the people that live in this village?"

"We didn't do anything," the man answered.

The hunter snorted.

"I doubt that."

"Take a look at them Bayla," he called out, they may be dressed as locals, but some have cybernetic enhancements not available outside the core, their tattoos, and jewelry, are wrong too."

He sensed her using the Force, and sensed her acceptance.

"Who are you people?" she demanded.

"It doesn't matter," Merrit replied, "Pirates or slavers, who ever they are, they deserve true justice."

His grin widened; his expression almost manic…crazed.

"They deserve…me."

He watched as he tightened his grip on the false-farmer, the man's face began to turn red, soon…it would be blue.

"We are leaving," Bayla exclaimed for all to hear.

"Merrit is going to release your friend, and we are leaving."

The hunter's eyes narrowed.

The hell we are, he thought.

True justice needed to be served!

They were raiders, and if they had killed the villagers, they were dead. If they were slavers and had the people hostage, they were just as dead, and any of their friends that were holding the people were dead too!

He would slay them all, and drink their pain and despair!

He would enjoy the suffering of the wicked.

"We haven't hurt anyone," the bartender insisted, "Let Grig go!"

No, Merrit thought.

He tried to harm me.

He deserves to pay.

"Let him go, Merrit."

Bayla's voice cut through the growing fog of red rage.

They stood back-to-back. They were still in danger; they could find their way out of this. He knew it.

"He tried to attack me, Backup," the hunter hissed.

"And you are going to let him go, as a sign of good faith. We didn't come here to fight. We came here to find Vey Ilo. Ritt, please, let him go."

His eyes narrowed.

"Bayla…I…"

"Please Ritt," she said, "For me."

He snarled in impotent fury.

He could have used the dark side boost from slaying these thugs.

He would have enjoyed it.

Sadly, his duty to his master's daughter was stronger than his hunger.

He released the fake-farmer, the large man fell coughing to the ground.

The hunter sneered down at him.

"Be glad that the lady was here, fella."

"Grig is rarely glad about anything, Fenn."

The new voice drew his attention, a very familiar voice.

The hunter glared.

I didn't sense you, he thought.

Now how did you do that?

The speaker was an older man, with gray hair and a short goatee. Despite his age, he had not lost much of his strength, his bare arms were toned. His dress that of a career spacer, which he was.

Bayla looked over her shoulder, noticing the man for the first time.

"Uncle Coop?"

"Hey there kid," Gabe Cooper responded, his eyes once again fell on Merrit.

"I see you found Fenn. What rock has he been hiding under I can't help but wonder."

The hunter grinned back.

"Speak for yourself, Cooper," he spat, "And just so you know, Fenn Shadowstone doesn't live here anymore."

"That so," the old man responded, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

He looked at Bayla.

"Backup here called you Merrit, your new last name wouldn't be Fallenstar would it?"

"Got it in one," he replied.

"Unsurprising," the smuggler chief shrugged, "Always wondered how you would react when you found out. Guess my question has been answered."

Bayla blinked.

"You knew, Uncle Coop?"

He nodded.

"Course I knew. Jas was my brother, and Miri Fallenstar was a friend and trusted associate. How could I not know she had a kid, and what happened to him."

Merrit glared at him.

"And no one thought to tell me?"

"Would it have mattered, kid? You were training to be a Jedi, and being Miri Fallenstar's kid would not have endeared you to the order, trust me on that."

A curse escaped the hunter's lips.

Coop wasn't wrong, but still…

Shouldn't I have been told?

Didn't I deserve to know?

Bayla powered down her lightsaber, and Cooper motioned for his men to lower their weapons. Everyone in the bar obeyed.

They are all his, Merrit realized.

Part of his crew.

Merrit deactivated his own saber, grudgingly.

Bayla walked up to Cooper, a concerned look on her face.

"Where are the villagers, Uncle Coop? Are they safe?"

"Hiding in their storm cellars," the smuggler replied, "We were in town gathering supplies. When we got a warning of an approaching dark presence. My people have been on the run from the Sith for a few years now. Thought it was safer to get all the civilians to safety before they arrived."

The confession almost made Merrit laugh.

Gabe Cooper playing hero.

Who would have guessed?

He wasn't sure what the man was doing here, how he had found Vey's hermitage.

Had she told him. It was possible, risky but possible.

He shook his head.

"So, Vey warned you that I was coming. Guess I should have expected that. We didn't part on the best of terms."

Cooper shook his head.

"Vey is still at her cottage in the mountains, she might know you are here, probably does, but she wasn't the one who warned us."

"Not Vey," the hunter said, "Then…who warned you that I was coming."

"Me, it was."

The voice was high pitched, and as it rang out, the Force seemed to change, the fog that had been blocking Merrit's senses faded away.

He looked at the one who had warned Coop, or rather, looked down on him.

It was a Jedi, he could not doubt that, the feeling through the Force was undeniable.

The creature barely came up to his thigh, small and green with long ears, and brown hair pulled into a topknot.

He made his way out of the darkness, and his presence filled the Force with light. Merrit had to suppress a desire to flinch.

The Jedi looked up at the younger man, unafraid, and confident.

"Son of Fallenstar," he said, "Your enemy, I am not."

It was at that moment that Mirax Fallenstar spoke again in her son's mind, one word…one name.

"Mondar."

Merrit smiled he knew that name, he had heard it from his master.

Mondar, a shadow of the Jedi Order, a Dark Jedi catcher.

And now he was here, with Vey and Coop.

The hunter shook his head.

Interesting, he thought. Considering that his master believed the little shadow dead.

He smirked.

I guess the dead don't rest as easy as they used to.

How…interesting.

A/N: I'm considering doing a story of Merrit's time before this story. If anyone is interested, shoot me a review. Another chapter for this tale up soon. Until then dear readers.

DG