The blue holograph of Eeth flickered alive. He looked dishevelled; this startled Lok who suddenly realised that he had never ever seen Eeth look dishevelled.

"We fell into a trap," Eeth said, speaking in fast, clipped tones. "The only thing the rebels ever wanted us for is as hostages. They were prepared for our weapons; they came at us from everywhere and closed in so fast that we did not have room to pull our sabers. By the time I had Force-pushed enough of them away, they had taken out Flynt. I had the choice between making a getaway or letting them capture me. For the sake of saving both our lives, I opted for escaping. We need to find Flynt and get out of here. And in order to find Flynt, I need you. I know it is against our mission orders, but I do not see any other way. You share a bond with him, I do not."

"Alright, but what about Lok?" asked Lakhri.

Eeth turned to face Lok.

"Padawan," he said very seriously. "I need Lakhri. And therefore, I need to be able to rely on you. Will you promise me to stay on the ship until one of us returns, no matter what?"

Lok stared at Eeth. What could he say to that? He nodded mutely, his heart beating painfully in his chest.

"You are not to come after us," said Eeth emphatically. "Under any circumstances. Is that entirely clear?"

"Yes, master," said Lok, feeling a little offended that Eeth thought this needed extra mentioning. Lakhri raised his eyebrows at him, which reminded Lok of the way he had acted just a moment earlier. His cheeks colored slightly, but he remained silent; he merely bowed to his master who gave Lakhri a few hurried instructions on where to meet him and then ended the call.

Less than five minutes later, Lok was on his own, knowing that his master, Lakhri and Flynt were out there, risking their lives. And hard as it was, he was determined to show that he could cope. He could obey his orders, even though he flinched violently with every explosion - they seemed to become more and more frequent. He would stay on the ship, no matter what. And they would return, Eeth would see to that.

An hour later, nothing had happened, and it was tearing at his nerves. Through their bond, he had a vague sense of frantic activity, but nothing specific; not that he could have made it out if there was. It was frustrating when he thought of how far he had come with Jerad; they had just started to be able to talk to each other through their bond!

Then another explosion occurred, and this time it was so close that Lok had to cover his ears and the entire ship was shaking. There were a few thuds, as if chunks of plaster were falling onto the hull. Lok's breathing quickened, and he pulled out his com. He really needed to know what was going on, he told himself; and if, on the occasion, he found out that Eeth was fine, that was all the more welcome. Unfortunately, though, Eeth did not respond to his call. Nor did Lakhri or Flynt (not that he had expected the latter to be able to pick up his comm). Lok started to pace the ship nervously, trying to establish a connection every few minutes, but it was to no avail. They might simply have switched off their comlinks; or they might be underground with no connection; or they might be in a fight, captured or dead? Well, Eeth was not dead, he would have felt that, but Lakhri or Flynt might be, for all he knew

An hour later, Lok's nerves were running ragged. He was sitting in the cockpit, staring out of the window that allowed him a view of the entirely deserted hangar, drumming his fingers on the console. His comlink was lying next to him; he was ready to grab it and answer as soon as it beeped. Only it didn't and he was starting to feel not only afraid, but also frustrated. What was taking them so long? Why wasn't anybody thinking of him, at least sending him a quick message? Did they think it was fun for him, sitting alone in this ship in a war-torn city, knowing his master was out there?

And then Lok suddenly sensed a surge of emotion through his bond with Eeth that came as close to anxiety as anything he had ever felt in his master. He frantically tried to call again, but there was no way to get through to anyone. Angrily, he flung the comlink into a corner, drew a deep breath and raised his shields. Jerad had taught him how to conceal himself. He was good at it; Eeth should really give him more credit for that, he thought fleetingly. If his master really needed help, he would provide it. If not, he could always return to the ship, undetected, and there would be no harm done. He would not remain passive while the rest of the team was in mortal danger; he could not. Surely Eeth would understand that. Or better yet, Eeth wouldn't need to know. Lok could just check out the situation briefly and, once he had a clearer idea what was going on, return to the ship before anyone was the wiser.

Lok was indeed very good at using the Force to conceal his presence. It was a gift he had, and Jerad's thorough training had helped him make the most of it. He was also fairly good at shielding himself, and given the still rudimentary nature of the bond between him and Eeth, he hoped that would be sufficient to keep Eeth from noticing his absence from the ship.

The hangar was deserted, but there seemed to be fighting in the main hall of the spaceport. Lok tried to keep away from it and finally found a side entrance that allowed him to slip out onto the streets undetected. The city was mainly built of brick houses, many of which showed signs of recent damage. The streets were deserted, but every now and then speeders with armed fighters were racing through. Lok quickly hid in entrances or behind trash cans when they did; he knew that his ability to conceal his presence was not infallible and thought it better to be cautious. He tried to follow his sense of where Eeth was, but it was slow going and, unfortunately, it seemed to lead him right into the thick of things, towards the epicenter of the frequent explosions from where thick columns of smoke were rising. Once, he had to make a detour because a whole street was burning. He briefly pondered returning to the ship, but he had made it thus far – plus, he still could not reach Eeth.

About an hour after he had left the ship, he thought he was approaching the border to the rebel-controlled sector; he found it harder and harder to avoid people because there were fighters everywhere, retreating or rushing into battle. He also found that it was getting ever more difficult to maintain his concealment and keep his shields raised. He had never had to do this for such a long period of time, and never under such dangerous circumstances either.

That must be the parliament building, right ahead of them, he thought as he emerged from an alleyway onto a large square, pressing his back against the wall. He recognised it from the pictures although it now looked decidedly worse for the wear. He could sense that Eeth was near, though, either in the parliament building itself or somewhere below it. Unfortunately, in order to get there, he needed to get across the square, which was full of rebel soldiers who had raised barricades from one side of the square to the other. There was some kind of impromptu checkpoint in the middle. Lok pondered his chances. They did not know he was here, and that was a huge advantage. Besides, even if his shields lapsed for a moment, he could probably mind-whammy these people. Most species, with very few exceptions, were susceptible to Force persuasion. It was either that, or search for another way in which was unlikely to be any less tightly controlled, or return to the ship and make this whole venture pointless. Lok drew a deep breath and, drawing on the Force as much as he possibly could, started to creep across the square towards the checkpoint.