AN: Response to the last chapter was insane. You guys are great, and I really appreciate the encouragement and interest in the story. 30k views is absolutely nuts. Hope you enjoy the chapter, longer AN at the bottom.

The whine of blaster fire echoed down the alleyways all around me, the red and green glow of rounds passing by lighting up my surroundings. The industrial style and advanced architecture of the buildings and catwalks around me were in stark contrast to the fact that, other than myself and my assailants, the area was essentially deserted.

The planet of Fondor was very similar to Coruscant in so far as there was one massive city covering the entirety of the planet. The entire surface was giant industrial complexes and manufacturing plants. Where it differed drastically was, compared to Coruscant's population of well over a trillion, Fondor's population barely totaled 5 billion, a paltry sum especially when you take into account the size of the planet.

Which is why it was common for areas such as this to be completely devoid of life, current situation notwithstanding.

Speaking of which.

The lull in fire pulled me out of my musings. I glanced around the corner I was taking cover at and observed my target. It was a warehouse type building that was situated at the end of a T intersection on what qualified as a road on this planet. It was a fairly large structure, most likely containing some sort of manufacturing equipment for starship parts, the main product made on Fondor. At least three or four stories tall, it was covered in fire escapes and maintenance access doors, but there were hardly any windows. Understandable, seeing as the building was designed with the idea that people wouldn't actually be working in the building.

This was advantageous for me, as the ten or so thugs that were littered across the fire escapes and the street in front of the building weren't as well dug in as they would have been if they were able to post up inside the building. Sure, they had some cover. The ones on the street had some hastily erected barricades to hide behind, and several of the positions on the walkways actually had thin sheets of durasteel welded to the guard rails.

The biggest problem I had was that the only way I could assault the warehouse was by coming down the street leading directly to the dug in thugs. Not only was there not much cover for me to use while I advanced, there was an E-Webb heavy repeating blaster emplacement located right in front of the street level access to the building. Where it was set up meant it could sweep the entire street that I would need to use to assault the position. I could deal with the rest of the idiots, but the turret was going to be a problem.

I took a deep breath, deciding that nothing was going to get done if I just sat here. I keyed my comlink.

"Master, I'm two blocks south of the compound. There's men dug in at the front of the building. This way is a no go, but I think I can make enough noise to draw their attention."

The ear piece I was wearing crackled to life as my master responded.

"Understood, Padawan," replied a heavily accented voice. "I should be able to gain access to the building if you can hold their attention."

"Copy. Just to let you know, I'm going to be too busy not getting killed to focus on non-lethal tactics."

"I know, Tyris. While regrettable, these individuals have made their choice. Our priority is extracting Ms. Ichem by any means necessary."

Odon Ichem was a master shipwright who oversaw a vast chunk of the shipbuilding power on Fondor. While not as big or prestigious as the shipyards at Kuat and Correllia, Ichem was still a very wealthy man. He'd contacted the Jedi about a month and half ago, asking for assistance in investigating missing funds that he had discovered. It was incredibly small percentages here and there, but when your company was dealing to the tune of trillions of credits, even the smallest of percentages was enough to buy a couple of worlds in the outer rim. He explained he didn't want to involve the local authorities because, well, they worked for him, and he said that the only people who could pull this off were part of his board of directors, any of whom might be able to influence an internal investigation. He needed a neutral third party.

My master and I had run similar investigations before, though to a much smaller scale, and were nearby when the request was made. So, we were tasked by the Council to look into Ichem's claims and see if there was any validity to them. It became quickly apparent not long after we had arrived that there was clearly some sort of embezzlement going on.

During the course of our investigation, however, we started to come across several inconsistencies. While those on the Board of Directors all had access to company funds, they didn't have access to all the funds. While this would seem normal for a regular company, Ichem took this one step further by actually keeping the budgets for each department in separate banks. He had given us unrestricted access to the company's financial records, and we discovered that in order to request funds, each department head would put in a requisition form detailing what the funds were going to be allocated to. Once this was approved by Ichem himself, the department head would receive a one-time-use PIN in order to transfer the required amount from the main bank of the company. Ichem was the only one with unhindered access to this account.

When this money was transferred is where the numbers started getting weird.

Once the money cleared the transfer, the balances in several of the accounts for different departments were going up by several millions more than what they should have. Apparently, funds ending up in the department banks from sources other than the main company bank wasn't unusual. Ichem encouraged his directors to seek profits outside of the normal scope of their job duties whenever possible, mostly by selling excess products and materials to smaller shipyards and other companies that could make use of them.

On a hunch, my master asked me to cross check the banks statements of the departments that received these random deposits with the shipping statements for when the product was shipped to the customer. The numbers all seemed to match, until we compared them to the physical make-up of the out bound shipments.

More than one of the shipments were several freighters short of actually being able to carry everything the manifests said they were. And, wouldn't you know it, when we compared the missing material to the excess deposits, the amounts matched down to the credit. This amount was then being removed from the bank, cited as 'profit expenditures', meaning that the department heads were claiming these funds were being used to recruit more employees, expand manufacturing capabilities, or seek out new clients. This was the discrepancy that Ichem noticed when he contacted the Jedi in the first place, as even though all this money was being spent to increase the overhead, the profit margins weren't increasing in any significant way.

However, once my master and I realized that Ichem's company wasn't actually losing any money, we both came to the same conclusion: This wasn't embezzlement. It was money laundering meant to look like embezzlement. Whoever was using Ichem's company to clean their money didn't care if the department heads were arrested or fired. What that said was that these department heads most likely weren't doing this willingly.

Which led us to now.

Whoever was behind this, it seemed that our arrival had spooked them. Not long after we figured out the scheme, a team of mercenaries kidnapped Ichem's daughter, Teckla, who had just arrived back in system from vacationing with several of her friends.

Now, Ichem wasn't an idiot. He knew that people might come after his family in order to try and extort him. His daughter had her own security detail.

Half of which turned out to be embedded members of the same mercenary group.

It seemed whoever was behind all this had taken steps and put in place contingency plans in case they were ever discovered. They were trying to extort Ichem for one last large sum of money before they disappeared.

They obviously didn't want the ransom money to be wired anywhere, as they didn't want there to be any paper trail to be followed, so they brought Teckla to an isolated part of the planet, where Ichem would need to bring the money, in cash, in exchange for her safe return.

I couldn't help but be impressed by whoever set all of this up. It seemed every outcome was accounted for and they had developed an airtight plan to get out with one last pay day.

There was one thing they overlooked, however. Ichem was a good father. And, like every good father, there was an excess of paranoia when it came to his daughter.

When she was younger, Teckla had broken several bones in one of her wrists while playing with some friends. The break required a very minor surgery in order to repair some of the smaller bones in the joint. Ichem, the overbearing father that he was, took this opportunity to have a very small homing beacon placed inside his daughter's wrist that would send a tight-beam, nearly undetectable pulse straight to Ichem's personal datapad every twelve hours, containing her current coordinates.

The pulse had occurred 47 minutes ago, only a half hour after the group had landed here. The mercenaries hadn't even had a chance to make the ransom call.

"Alright, I'm going to approach now. Wait for the signal, then get in and out as quick as possible. I'm not going to be able to handle the turret for long."

"And what signal would that be, Padawan?"

"Oh, I think the blaster fire and screams of pain would be a good indicator," I snarked. Instead of responding, my master clicked his comlink twice, indicating he was ready.

Ok, time not to die, I thought, as I slowly unholstered my modified S-5.

I took a calming breath, and centered myself in the Force. I then grabbed a sphere from my belt, took one last breath, and hurled the sphere around the corner and down the street. Before it even stopped rolling, several ports opened on it and began emitting a thick smoke. It was followed by two more spheres, much to the same effect.

For assaulting a position like this, I would've much preferred a thermal detonator or forty, but the Council already frowned upon the fact that I carried a heavy blaster around with me. Explosive ordinance was out of the question.

The emergence of the smokescreen spooked the mercenaries, and several began firing blindly into the fog. Once I felt I had as much cover as I was going to get, I came around the corner, blaster held in my left hand, and began returning fire. The Force guiding my aim, I was far more successful in hitting my targets than they were on getting a bead on my position. By the time the smoke began to clear, I'd already dropped over half of the original group that had been stationed outside of the building.

However, with the smoke clearing, I was able to make out the outline of several figures pouring out of the main entrance that was behind the E-Webb emplacement. I kept a steady stream of fire towards the entrance to try and keep their heads down.

At this point, I was less concerned about my aim and more concerned about the rapidly receding smokescreen, knowing it would only be seconds before the turret would have a clear view of my position and begin sweeping the street with a wave of blaster fire.

I made it up one block before I ducked into another alley that was to my left. I glanced around the corner, hearing the wine of the giant rotary cannon beginning to spin up, and at the same time saw a figure make an impossible jump from the top of a building situated to the east of the ware house. The figure landed on one of the upper fire escapes to the warehouse, taking out a Rodian who had been firing at me from that position, and quickly kicked in a maintenance door and entered the building.

It's about time!

While my plan had worked, I still had to keep the attention on me. I spun out of cover and began laying down more fire on the entrance, dropping three bodies before the whining of the E-Webb forced me back into cover.

While, this was going about as well as could be expected.

I took a couple more pot shots, but quickly realized that now that the E-Webb had my position zeroed in, there wasn't much I could do anymore without being filled with holes.

My ear piece crackled to life again.

"Tyris.."

"Yeah, I know! Give me a minute!"

"You saw how I got in here. Exfil isn't going to be as simple with a second person."

"I said I know!" I gave out a grunt of frustration. I had figured it was most likely going to come to this, but I definitely was not looking forward to it. "Be ready to exit out the south of the building when I give the go ahead."

Another double click sounded on the comlink.

Without giving myself much time to think about what I was about to do, I holstered my S-5, and drew the cylinder that was attached at my right hip.

"Master, just one thing," I said, a little apprehension seeping into my voice. "Vokara cannot find out about this."

I think I heard what sounded like a snort from the other end, but I was already in motion. Drawing on the Force as deeply as I ever had before, I used a Force-assisted leap that had me landing only about 15 meters in front of the E-Webb. This had happened so quickly, that all of the mercenary fire was still directed at the corner I had been at just moments ago.

Before they had a chance to redirect their fire, I activated my lightsaber.

A brilliant viridian blade sprang to life, already weaving intricate patterns as the first few bolts from the mercenaries began to be fired at me. It was going to take them a second to pivot the heavy E-Webb to my new position, so I was only handling small arms fire at the moment.

Standing in a flawless Soresu stance, my blade seemed to be a wall of light, spinning around so fast it was leaving after images. First one, then two, then several mercenaries began to fall at a time as I redirected their own blaster fire back at them and their comrades.

I wasn't paying attention to that, though. I was dealing with around 15 thugs worth of blaster fire, any one misstep and it would spell immediate death for me. This was the most stressful and intense real combat situation I'd ever been.

And it was so. Fucking. Fun.

My blood felt like it was on fire. I'd never felt anything like it. I didn't feel like myself! All I knew was that I was the apex predator here, the very top of the food change. And that these guys didn't stand even the smallest of chances against me.

I couldn't be touched. Every bolt was met by my blade and redirected at another assailant. I was unstoppable. I noticed the E-Webb finally lining up with my position.

Good, I welcome the chance to show them how futile…

Whoa.

As quickly as the euphoric feeling had taken over, my rational mind was able to expel it. It was a miracle I maintained enough focus to continue weaving my Soresu guard, ensuring none of the small arms fire hit me. However, I now had another problem to deal with as the giant turret in front of me began to spool up.

I knew it was futile to even attempt to deflect all the bolts that were about to come flying out of it.

So, I decided that I wasn't going to even try.

During my weird battle lust episode, I'd actually dealt with almost all the mercenaries that were using small arms. The only ones left were now grouped around the gun emplacement, which worked out just fine for me.

The first bolts began to fly out of the canon.

I deactivated my lightsaber.

I turned sidewise and held my right arm up, so that my upper arm and forearm were coving my head, and I concentrated on the Force harder than I ever had before.

I felt the blast begin to impact on me.

Four, five, six bolts so far. The pain was insane. Nothing like I had ever experienced before.

But the pain was good. It meant force absorb was working, otherwise, I would've already been dead.

Ten, eleven, twelve. As more bolts continued to hit me, I could feel a well of power pooling in me, rapidly expanding to the point where it felt like it was going to start running out of my nostrils and ears.

Nineteen, twenty. When it finally felt like I was just going to pop, I extended my right hand, and began channeling a massive amount of Force energy into it.

I didn't even have a specific idea of what I wanted to do, I just had a confidence in me that this was the right thing to do.

My feeling was proven correct when my bare hand began reflecting blaster fire!

I didn't allow myself to revel in the feeling for long, however. Instead, I channeled more of the vast reservoir of power I'd gathered, extended my left hand, and reached out towards the E-Webb, turning my hand into a tight fist.

A loud and terrible screech sounded as the barrel to the large weapon was bent slightly downward and crushed. The outpouring of fire stopped immediately, and the damage to the barrel caused a misfire, the back blast of which ignited the power pack that was attached to it. The resulting explosion, in turn, kicked off a chain reaction with the magazines that had been brought out and placed near the turret in case it needed to be reloaded.

There were a lot of magazines.

For all I knew, my master and Teckla were waiting right on the other side of the entrance, not to mention I was rather close to the gun position as well. Acting quickly, I erected a force barrier around the weapon and the surrounding area, holding in the explosion.

Unfortunately for the gun operator and the few surviving members of the mercenary group that were huddled near there, they were all caught inside my Force barrier.

The pressure from the gasses expanding and the heat of the ensuing fireball incinerated everything that was contained in the barrier.

Everything became very quiet. I looked around, making sure there wasn't anyone trying to surprise me as soon as I let my guard down. I then let my gaze linger on the ashes and dead bodies that I had left behind.

I regretted the need to take lives, but I also understood that the galaxy wasn't a nice place. It wasn't the first time I'd killed, and it wouldn't be the last.

Seeing that everything was clear, and realizing that I still had quite a bit of power to burn, I raised both hands toward the large security door that granted access to the warehouse.

With a minimal amount of effort considering the size and weight of the object, I ripped it free, bringing the frame and some chunks of the surrounding walls with it, and hurled it back down the street that I had come.

Sensing who was on the other side of where the door used to be, I clipped my lightsaber back to my belt, and dusted off my hands as I walked towards the makeshift opening.

Two figures walked out. One was rather petite, whom I identified as most likely being Teckla Ichem. She was pretty, maybe three or four years older than my age of 17, and had brown hair that went down a little past her shoulders. She looked stricken, looking around at the carnage I had wrought before settling her gaze on me, a light dusting of pink coloring her cheeks and neck.

The other figure stopped in front of me, standing almost at eye level. This was notable, considering that at 2 meters there weren't many that I met who could boast the same.

"Was that supposed to be your go-ahead, Padawan?" the figure asked with amusement. The voice was colored with an accent that would have been considered vaguely Jamaican back in my previous life.

"I'll leave that up to your interpretation, Master Fisto," I replied, looking at the Nautolan Jedi Master who had chosen me as his padawan so many years ago.

Kit Fisto looked around.

"You made quite the mess, Tyris."

"I was just trying to spruce the place up, Master. I thought a big hole in their front door would look great. More natural light, y'know? Liven the place up," I said with a shrug. "They disagreed."

Master Fisto looked back at me with his customary smile. "Indeed."

He turned back to Teckla, who was still staring at me with wide eyes.

"Ms. Ichem, this is my Padawan, Tyris Kelborn."

I gave her a slight nod. "Ms. Ichem, I'm glad to see you are well, all things considered."

She continued to stare.

….

It was starting to get uncomfortable.

"Uh… right. We should get going, Master. I'm sure Mr. Ichem is anxiously awaiting an update from us."

Master Fisto shifted his gaze from Teckla to me, giving me a knowing smile.

"Very well. Lead the way, Padawan."

I rolled my eyes at the look he gave me and turned to head back to where we parked our transport, about 30 blocks southeast of where we were currently. Before I got very far, I heard a soft thud from behind me.

"Oh, dear. It seems Ms. Ichem has fainted."

I need a drink.

AN: Sort of a filler chapter. Originally, this chapter and the next were going to be one, but as I was writing it I realized it would be a good way to introduce Tyris's master and would flow better if I split it in half here. I know it's a little shorter than the last, but I've got a busy next couple of weeks, and wanted to make sure you guys knew I'm committed to continuing the story. My girlfriend and I are visiting my family for Thanksgiving, and then going to Las Vegas at the beginning of December to visit her family there. So it might be awhile before another chapter gets posted.

Thank you guys so much for the response to the last chapter. Lots of kind words and encouragement, which is always appreciated. I actually had one review point out that there was a continuity error in one of my earlier chapters. The second time Tyris goes to the Halls of Healing, Barris Offee is manning the reception desk. If we are going by the legends lore (which we are, for the most part) she would only be one year older than Tyris. The interaction is not one that is essential for the overall story, so I'm keen to just leave it as is and chalk it up to a younger me wanting to throw her into the story after having just read the MedStar novels. Let me know what you guys think.

Also had questions about what's going to happen to Anakin now that Qui-Gon survived. That will be addressed in the next chapter. Thanks!

-Teee-Jay