Tales of the Old Republic::Way to Destruction

[catwmnjedi]

This RPG has been ported over from the JediNet Council. As a result, the previous posts are archived and can be read by clicking this link:

Archive for "Way to Destruction", April 2001 to March 2004 (http://home.insightbb.com/wsb-cgi-bin/ssi.cgi?PWPTool=HTMLView&State=False&wsbID=342600&GroupID=312000&Owner=catwmn&SiteID=1268241)

Writers please continue your story postings on this thread. There is another thread for discussion, feedback and comments.

[catwmnjedi]

Posted: May 07 2002 - 11:56 by catwmnjedi

<span style="color:#daa500">Eventually Serci’s breathing returned to a deeper norm as the muscle relaxant again began to wear off, and her involuntary respiratory function restarted. This allowed her to relax and try rejuvenating meditations, but she was beyond exhaustion. Lack of nourishment, including water, stretched her body to limits beyond what mere Jedi exercises could restore. Despite her returning muscle control, she was left too weak to attempt working out of the binders. Instead she began a power nap, but was interrupted before she could fall into dreaming.

Reece entered the room and crouched down close to her face, holding a succulent glass of cold water. Serci slowly managed to sit up as he brought the glass to her lips, but she hesitated drinking.

“No, it’s the real thing this time,” he reassured.

She didn’t trust him, but gulped the water down anyway. As the last drop went down, she wished he’d brought a whole pitcher. Then she realized they were no longer spaceborne, but docked on an unfamiliar planet.

“We’re waiting for the escort team,” Reece explained. “I’m going to let you walk in with me, but I’m leaving you cuffed, and I don’t want anything funny, understood? They’ll be covering us with blasters in our backs and we’ll be blindfolded.”

Serci replied only with a cold stare.

“How are you feeling?” he asked as if it mattered, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

She jerked away. “What’s the point? Why don’t you just kill me now, or are you too much of a coward to do it yourself?”

He shook his head. “You don’t get it, do you. I don’t want you dead. If I did, I would’ve let Dovo take care of it and not worry about my conscience.”

“Are you suggesting you have one?”

That brought a smile to his face. “Touche, Doc.” He stood and pulled a nutri-cube from his pocket, then brought it to her mouth, but she wouldn’t open up.

“Come on, you’ll need your strength later. You haven’t had anything to eat in what, three days?”

“Why do I need it? These are the virus makers, right?” He nodded in answer. “And you think they’ll just let me walk out of here after a nice chat?”

He sat down on the bed beside her. “These people aren’t really murderers, they’re business people. They may want to get rid of you… keep you out of the way, but it’s not their style to just vape you standing. Hopefully that’ll give you a chance to escape, after I’ve made my deal.”

“They aren’t murderers?” She laughed. “How are you rationalizing that one?”

His expression grew serious and he grabbed her arm. “Listen, through history you Jedi have killed more beings than this virus ever will. Get it? That makes them no worse than you or me. I’m just trying to get what’s rightfully mine out of this.”

“And if they don’t give it to you?”

Reece paused and rubbed his chin. “Then your Jedi friends get here and we have a party.”

Her eyes grew wide. “What?! You led them here?”

“Yeah, I told your boyfriend where we were going. A little insurance in case things turn ugly for me.”

The chill down her back made her shiver. She remembered her dream.

“You should’ve left them out of this!” she shouted. “This part of the mission was mine… I’m the one taking the risks. They aren't supposed to pick me up until I have the virus sample in hand. What do you think will happen to you when they get here? You and your bio-weapon buddies started a war on the Jedi… now it’s personal!”

“Better settle down. I might start to think you care,” he smirked.

If her hands were free, she would’ve knocked him flat. As it was, she could only throw dagger eyes in his direction. Then she realized he was right… she needed her strength. If Shoma and Jaren were walking into a trap, they might need her help. She stared at the cube and he held it back up to her. It was gone in two eager bites.

After the last swallow, she asked, “Why bother telling me all this… about my friends?”

He looked at her briefly the way he did when they were on Ord Mantell. “Because I don’t want you to die, Doc. I want you to escape. Have your interview with the boss, then either join up or walk away. You won’t win if you try to stop them.”

“Sorry, I can’t do that. I’m not walking out of there without a sample of that virus.”

Sighing, he shook his head. “You still don’t get it. The killing goes on, Serci. You snub their operation, they move somewhere else, or someone else starts a similar business. There will always be death, killing, wars, crime. You can’t stop it… all the Jedi in the universe can’t stop it.”

She considered his speech a moment, then finally spoke. “True. But if we all think like you do, there won’t be balance. I have to believe that the galaxy would be a terrible place to live in if darkness is allowed to take over completely. I know what that feels like… I don’t want everyone else in the galaxy to live it. So I do what little I can.” Slowly she gazed at him. “Kowan, don’t do this. Don’t turn me over to them. There’s still time. If you give me my sample back and take me back to Coruscant… I can see to it you’re cleared of everything.”

“Sorry sweetheart. Even if I believed that, which I don’t, I have other plans. I’m riff-raff and I prefer similar company. No offense.” He started to remove the belts from her chest and legs, but kept her hands cuffed.

Suddenly a voice was heard over a loudspeaker from outside. “Crew of the Impulse, you have three minutes to exit the vessel unarmed with your hands up.”

Kowan stood and helped pull Serci to her feet. He steadied her wobbly posture and guided her to the door. Before punching it open, he added, “By the way, the name’s Barkin. Veedy Barkin.”

Serci glared at him and felt another imaginary slap in the face as she was reminded once again… everything he ever told her was a lie.</span>

[catwmnjedi]

Posted: May 07 2002 - 7:01 by smeghead

<span style="color:green">Rebeka rolled underneath a seat as a slavo of blaster rounds punched through the ceiling. She popped up and returned fire, but missed. The sound of feet landing on the roof announced the arrival of more assassins, and she soon heard the sound of a laser cutter slicing through the top of the bus.

"What's going on back there?" Rion yelled, as he weaved the hoverbus through traffic.

"Little busy here!" Beka replied, firing the rest of her powerpack at the sounds of the assassins. As she ejected the spent pack, the section of ceiling that had been cut out dropped to the floor, followed by one of the assassins facing opposite Rebeka.

She dropped the pistol and rushed him, knocking them both to the floor as she pulled the shockprod from her belt. He rolled over and swung at her as she jabbed the prod into his ribs, leaving him twitching in the dust.

Beka scooped up the assassin's carbine and fired a burst at the others, sending another body tumbling off the bus. The fourth assassin dropped into the passenger compartment just as Beka fired another burst, dropping him to the ground.

Above the bus, the airspeeder drew closer. Another assassin appeared in the exit hatch, but this one was holding an anti-vehicle rocket launcher.

"Rion! Watc-" Beka screamed as the airspeeder exploded into a ball of flame. An armored patrol vehicle flew through the smoke.

The loudspeaker on the APV crackled. "This is Rebublic Intelligence. Power down your engines and prepare to be boarded"</span>

[catwmnjedi]

Posted: May 07 2002 - 7:31 by Mara1Jade

<span style="color:green">Visions of a time long ago, but not so long ago. The gentle face of a kind and loving mother, reaching out to her young dark-headed daughter.

“I love you,” the woman said to the little girl.

A flash of something else. The pain, the hurt, the anguish of a little girl left orphaned. The memory of her parents laying motionless in a pool of their own blood.

Those loving, gentle people, taken from the universe by a random act of violence.

But not a random act at all. Cold-blooded murder at the devices of a Senator covering his own tracks.

A Sentor she later protected.

A Senator she had trusted.

She should have known.

How could she ever trust anyone again? How could she trust politics? How could she trust those who had left her alone? How could she trust HIM?

Him. Rion Liman. The one who loved her. Loved her still.

The one whom she loved.

Dear gods, the one whom SHE still loved.

And the one she had left and would never ever see again. And what had she left him behind for this time, when she had the chance to again be with him? She’d left him to figure out a puzzle, find a murderer, and to deliver justice swiftly and coldly to all those stuffy politicians who so much deserved whatever they got.

Only to find that she would do it beside Talman Myr, a killer of innocents himself.

Her life was forfeit. All that she had worked to achieve had failed. She’d protected the Senator who killed her parents. She’d left the only man who would ever truly love her. And now she’d joined forces with a murderer of innocents yet again.

But he would not suceed. The virus sellers were not into murdering innocents. Only in delivering justice to those who so much deserved it.

Or so Elena thought.

Slowly, oh so damnably slowly, Elena lifted the heavy weights that were her eyelids, fully expecting to find herself either on the other side of life or at the hands of a quite insane dark Force user. She would soon discover, however, that neither was the case.

As the world swam back into focus, she found herself staring directly up at a rather white ceiling of a ship that was very much still in motion.

Or was that her head still swimming after being slammed into the bulkhead of a ship by...

...by...

Talman...?

She shuddered. There was no escape. Where was he? He was here...somewhere, lurking in the shadows. He would never let her go. She would never deliver the justice she desired to all those horrible Senators with him constantly at her side.

He would never ever ever let her go.

Oh how she wished that she could see Rion just one more time, to let him know just how very wrong she had been... </span>

[Joruus]

I sit on the balcony of our hotel suite, overlooking a man-made park the builders had put in when the place had first opened. Rooftops sparkle with white landing lights, mirroring a sky full of stars. I sip my spiced Alderaanian tea in silence, watching, admiring.

"Beautiful night, isn't it Dree?" I ask, turning my head towards an occupied recliner beside me. She's busy staring at the stars too, following the moving ones, ships from ports all over the galaxy. She is looking in a crystal ball, searching for her future.

"What do you see?" I continue, as she has ignored the first question.

"Stars," she replies sarcastically.

"My my, what a grand imagination."

She pouts, her lips twisting into a cute little smile. She bites her toungue thoughtfully as she considers. "I see a Jedi," she says wistfully.

"A Jedi?" I say. "What kind of Jedi?"

"A Jedi padawan," she replies.

"How can you tell?" I ask.

"The hair," she says.

"Show me," I tell her. I put down my tea on the table between us, rise, and then kneel at the side of her chair. She places her hand in mine and guides it across the nightscape, playing a raucous game of connect the dots, stretching my mind to see the masterpiece behind the painting.

"Those are his greenest-eyes-in-the-universe," she states fondly, stopping for a moment to finger twin green dwarfs in the Kieran cluster.

"So, our Jedi's a he," I chuckle.

She pouts again, but continues, "That's one of the dimples in his cheek." The palm of her hand caresses a single red giant, brushing away its loneliness. "And there's the single braid of his hair, tumbling over his shoulder and trickling down his back, just barely reaching long enough to meet the bottom fold of the hood on his earthy-brown cloak."

"Getting detailed now, are we?," I am tempted to put forth sardonically. But I refrain.

"The mark of a padawan," I state instead.

"A padawan," she mutters, distracted. Her hand and mine fall limp to her side.

"I see it," I continue, forcing her attention back to the picture, and I fill in his sash, and his belt and his lightsaber with a sweep of our hands.

"Do you want to know what I see?" I question.

"What," she asks, curious.

"Stars."

"Hey, that's joke infringment," she laughs. "I could sue you for that."

"I'm a minister," I retort. "You wouldn't get much."

"Well, there is that recent inheritance..."

The moment sputters, stalls, and dies. Except for the humming of the stars and the buzzing of an airspeeder far below, the great city planet seems suddenly silent. My heart pumps furiously, and I can hear its drum knocking first one and then another and then another star out of rhthym. The galaxy is in chaos!

And I can't stop laughing inside.

"Your secret," a tiny voice says, deep down in my inner depths. "Harmony with others," it chants. Myself is standing back in front of me again, handing back my collar.

"Dree," I say timidly, voice shaking, then tumbling full of laughter again at the ludicrousness of it all. What stupid reasons there are for keeping secrets!

"Yes, Janyen?" she replies, wrinkling her brow, crooking one eyebrow up, and twitching her nose. She is perplexed.

"Dree, I haven't been completely honest with you," I spit it out, but not hurriedly, carefully enunciating my words, determined that what I speak should not be a painful admonission, but information freely given. "I've discovered more about Relar's death that I haven't shared with you."

I await the supernova, the grand explosion that will tear our peaceful almost-uptopian world apart, shattering poles as great tufts of energy spew forth, dancing amidst the riddled fragments of the land. But she is only quiet, playing with a strand of midnite hair, twirling it in her finger, back and forth, back and forth. Had she not heard me?

"Go on," she states, interested yet floating far from the realm of my words.

"Did you see the picture in Relar's office yesterday? The one on his desk? It was of you and me and him together at the Alderaanian Awards Ceremony."

"I saw it."

"It has not always been there. Do you recall the holophoto that was there before?"

Dree's fingers tapped on the table near my tea, sloshing the hot liquid around in the mug. She stopped playing with her hair for a moment, but then returned to twisting it, back and forth, back and forth between her fingers. Her eyes looked at me and then away at the stars.

"No," she gave up, reluctantly.

"I remember, but only vaguely. It was a picture of Relar standing with another man about his age, only the other man was shorter and balding, with salt and pepper hair."

"So?" Dree acts laconic.

I get up from the floor and dust off my knee with my right sleeve. "I'll show you."

I open the sliding door to the terrace and step into the parlor of our suite. The curtains flap around me, propelled by a rush of wind. Dree follows, and I hear the door squeak shut behind her.

'Needs lubricant,' I think blankly. I snag my coat off the coatrack.

"Where are we going?" Dree asks.

"Nowhere." I dart my hand down into one of the deeper side pockets, near the bottom of my jacket, and finger the objects inside. Touching the smooth, cold metal edge of the holoframe, I lift it out gingerly.

"You, a minister, stealing police evidence?" she smirks lightly.

I pop open the frame, tug out the sheet of paper, and flattening it, hold it up in front of the ceiling light. The mystical lettering slowly appears again, golden lines shooting out across the page, branding the paper with its message.

"Gaze upon the evidence," I command, a hint of teasing in my voice." And cut the sarcastic looks will ya, you're creeping me out!"

Dree does not laugh. She is concentrating on reading Relar's message. Finishing, she reads it again, confused.

"What does it mean?" she wonders aloud.

"I don't know," I answer firmly, truthfully. "But I'd guess that it has something to do with that man from the previous picture. I was in Relar's office a month ago and that picture hadn't been changed yet. The old one had been sitting there at least six years straight, always the same. Suddenly, it's gone, and now... well, this."

Dree hmms to herself in careful thought. I lower the paper and attempt to press out all the little creases on the parlor's glass tea table.

"Janyen?" she puts forth slowly.

"Yes," I say, assuming she has an idea.

"Janyen, I haven't been entirely honest with you either."

I am honestly intrigued, yet suddenly distracted as a rogue thought bounces to the front of my head. Of course! I grab my coat again, but this time reach for Driana's as well.

"What's a matter, Uncle, don't you want to hear me out?"

"I do, I really do" I reply excitedly, shoving her coat and scarf into her chest. "But you'll have to tell me on the way. We've got to get over to the police station, right now!"

Driana looks at me as if I've gone mad. Maybe I have, but I don't think so. "Why?" she questions me, incredulous.

"A holo-emitter is a computer, right?"

"Yes," she states blankly.

"Computers have records, right?"

I see her purple eyes sparkle as they grab hold of my idea.

"Got it?" I ask, motioning for her to hurry as she buttons up her jacket.

"Got it," she states knowingly.

"Beka," we say in unison...

[Meche]

"So what's going down?" Bikron tried.

"What do you want, human?" countered the Rodian sitting across the table from him.

"You want to play a little sabaac? *I mean just practice. *I mean I only have paper pieces to deal with and I have like nothing of value whatsoever."

"Whatever," the Rodian shrugged, mildly amused. *"You can deal."

"So what do... um..." Bikron paused a moment. *"Whaddaya think of this landing on some on-planet town to rob it, instead of luxury cruise robbing?"

"Think it works, human. *It'll be a nice change after just workin' cruisers. *Not to mention more profitable. *Some people leave their money at home, but this time we'll be there."

"That's true, but how will we get out? *What if the local police finds us? *The military? *Jedi? *We might get trapped on the planet. *We're more likely to lose people there. *It's safer in space."

"I find it highly unlikely that the military on the planet will be after us, even more unlikely for any Jedi. *Especially as far from Coruscant as we are," the Rodian answered, waving it away.

Bikron gaped. *But... what about... the other things I said? *So that disproves everything... or what?

"What are you looking at? *Blast off before I make an example of you," the Rodian suddenly. *Bikron picked up his pieces of paper and left the table.

"So how're things with you and Dallis? *What're those little datacards?" asked Strofix as he passed her.

"There are no 'things', and these aren't datacards," Bikron said. *"I need to find the weightroom."

"Ye're tellin' me."

* * *

"You there!"

"Eh?"

"Yeah, you. *Come here Ms. Spark-killer," said Thydelle sternly.

"Whoa, what's the problem?" asked Strofix.

"Were you in the weight room after 0100 hours today?"

"Uhhh... yeah! *With whathisname... Snacher."

"Anyone else?"

"Nope."

"Good. *That's what he said." *Thydelle began to pat Strofix down. *"Were you doing drugs or something in there?"

"Not today, nope."

"He was acting strangely, just like you. *And he wasn't drunk."

"Was a real big workout, Ms. Thydelle."

"How nice of you to clear things up for me, Spark-killer. *Now beat it."

"Why'dya ask about the weight room?"

"Well..." Thydelle seemed to grow a shade darker, "Pikros told me you know about the lightsaber. *So we installed a detector for, you know, to see who had it."

"Did you find..."

"No. *But we found that the detector had stopped working for a time. *So, just in case." *Thydelle picked up her comlink. *Strofix staggered to stand against a wall. *Damn, what a workout. *"Oh, and I just received word that we'll be leaving hyperspace in about five hours. *Pikros would like to talk to you. *He said to bring your friends."

* * *

"Why us?" asked Bikron.

"Maybe we're good. *Maybe Pikros trusts us as good scouts," answered Strofix.

"The first scouts are more likely to be killed y'know. *Maybe we're expendible," suggested Snacher.

"Lighten up. *Maybe this will lead to you becoming my second-in-command."

Bikron made a twitchy smile; his comlink beeped, and he moved away to answer it.

"You don't even hide your ambitions anymore, Strofix," said Snacher.

"Yeah. *I know. *It's finally becoming real," she said, faking a sniffle. *Then she grew serious, turned into her own thoughts. *Pikros had wondered why they hadn't been already captured or shot down; for some reason they were able to land. *Pikros's order flashed in her mind. *Find this "Veedy Barkin" who stole the identity of your late co-worker Kowan. *Find Serci Oran. *Make sure she stays alive. *Find a way to this "being of Ghorman" whom Thydelle works for, who has the assistant Jessical Styles I told you about, and let me know. *Her trigger finger began to itch rather badly.

[Shoma Barad]

It was late. The aches and pains in his neck and shoulders told Shoma that he should have been asleep hours ago. Here in the storage bay, there were no distractions- just the rhythmic hum of the ships internal mechanisms, and the blinking of status indicators. Had he been in the Jedi Temple back on Coruscant, the demands of training Serci and furthering his own understanding of the Force would have had him flat on his back and unconscious in the early evening. As it was, the events of the last few days should have had a similar effect.

But Shoma was a man driven to the edge of his endurance by a goal- a clearly defined goal, which he was determined to achieve at any cost. His apprentice, his friend, the woman he loved, was being spirited away to the planet Ghorman by a person or persons unknown. A virus that threatened himself, and possibly the entire galaxy was being produced, and made available to the highest bidder. Ben-Jaren, a young Jedi who feared failure as much, if not more than Shoma feared losing Serci was under his care, and was being seriously neglected.
On top of all of this, came perhaps the most disturbing development.

He could feel himself falling to the Dark Side.

It had to be a conscious decision. He had to choose the darkness over the light. He knew that. He had to be blinded to the truths he had known for the last few years to succumb to the power and influence the dark side offered; a choice he would never knowingly make. However, the sheer desperation he felt coursing through his veins whenever he thought about the danger Serci was in threatened to drive him over the edge.

His meditations proving fruitless, and his exercises frustrating, Shoma stood and stretched his entire body. His shoulders, elbows, and left knee cracked. Signs of age, he thought to himself.

A slight disturbance in the Force energy he had gathered around himself over the last few hours, told him that Jaren was approaching. He forced down his unease at being near the Padawan and moved to meet him. He opened the door to the storage bay, surprising the young Jedi, who was reaching for the door activation console. Jaren jumped noticeably enough, then regained his composure, bowing respectfully, but stiffly.

“You wished to speak to me, Ben-Jaren?” Shoma kept his tone even. It would not do to let Jaren know of the turmoil that his heart and mind were in.

“Yes, Master. I was talking with Saeed while we were doing some work, and I... I found something. Something I hadn’t noticed before.”

Shoma watched as Jaren reached down, and held his lightsaber out towards him. Shoma raised his eyebrows. “Forgive me, Ben-Jaren, but I find it hard to believe you have never noticed your own lightsaber before.”

Jarens’ eyes flared for a moment, obviously stung by the subtle rebuke. Avoiding eye contact with Shoma, he pointed to the lower part of the weapon. “Here Master. Open it.”

Shoma did so, and almost immediately recognised the small device. Venom filled his voice, and his eyes narrowed significantly. “A transmitter. We’re being traced.”

“It must have been the dark Jedi who attacked me, Master. He must have planted it while I was unconscious. The lightsaber itself protects it from being detected by our scanners.”

Idiot! Shoma was furious. He wanted to lash out, strike Jaren for being so careless. A tracking device. On my own ship! Everyone on board was in jeopardy. The mission to rescue Serci was busted wide open. A simple projection of the current course would show even a blind and senile Rodian where they were headed. And that means even a half-dead Hutt could get where we’re going before we do. When they emerged from hyperspace, an entire fleet could be waiting to blast them all from existence. And it was Jarens’ fault. All of it.

At the moment he began to reach for his own lightsaber to cut the padawan down, words echoed in his head. Your own ignorance, first, you must conquer, before comment on others, you can. It was Yoda’s voice. A lesson he knew, but he could not remember from when, nor where. The words repeated themselves over and over. Shoma relaxed as he listened to his friends’ voice, and traced their meaning to the current situation.

It wasn’t Jarens’ fault. Shoma knew that even he would never have thought to check his own lightsaber for a tracking device. A sweep was done on the ship after the attack, then several more, and nothing was found. The ship was clear. Even if he had asked for a more rigorous scan, nothing would have been found. Shoma couldn’t blame Jaren, because he knew the blame rested firmly on his shoulders.

“Forgive me Master,” began Jaren. “I should’ve checked before. I should’ve-“

“Quiet.” Shoma said peacefully. “It’s not your fault.”

“It’s not?” Jaren asked. The surprise was evident on his face. Shoma sighed and continued, resting a hand on the students’ shoulders.

“No, it’s not. I don’t know a single Jedi, even Yoda, who would have checked their lightsaber for something like this. The only people who could do this are Jedi, and we have no need for such deceptions. Dark Jedi on the other hand, do. You are not at fault. I am.”

Jaren took a step away from Shoma, surprise and confusion evident upon his face. His eyes seemed to weigh up options, sorting through thoughts methodically. The younger man's eyes narrowed slightly. Shoma thought the padawan looked frustrated. “With respect Master, how is it that you are at fault?”

Shoma stopped short of a quick reply. The words that sprung immediately to mind were because I’m in charge, but he knew that was not cause enough for him to take all the blame. He checked the emotions he was feeling- anger at himself for being so careless, guilt for not knowing enough to check Jarens’ lightsaber, Frustrated with the whole mission. And again, he knew where these feelings originated. Once more, he could feel that dark spot within his mind pulsing, encouraging Shoma to access the quick, easy path to achieving his goals. So much potential resided there, ripe for exploitation…

Jaren cleared his throat, disrupting Shoma’s train of thought. He reached up and wiped his brow, finding it sweaty. Shoma returned his gaze to Jaren. “You are correct. Blame doesn’t fall to anyone on this ship. The dark Jedi planted the device. Obviously he is fairly skilled at espionage. Luckily for us, Saeed has some experience in that area of his own. Head back to the cockpit, Ben-Jaren. Tell Saeed we’ll be having a planning meeting in one hour. Make sure the droids are there too. We’ll be coming out of hyperspace at that point- we’ll need to make some calls before we go on.”

Jaren bowed again, and began to turn away. Shoma watched as the young man turned to face him just a few steps on from where he’d been. “Master, where will you be for the next hour? Just in case Saeed asks?”

Shoma drew a long, laboured breath, and returned to his cross-legged position on the floor of the storage bay. “Tell him,” he said quietly, “I’ll be meditating”. With a hand gesture, he closed the door on Jaren, on Saeed, on the Galaxy, and went back to fighting the darkness of his own mind.

[catwmnjedi]

<span style="color:#daa500">With a whoosh the door closes, and I'm left alone again, not sure what I'm feeling. *I'm relieved Master Shoma isn't angry that I failed to discover the tracking device sooner, though I swear I caught a glimpse of anger start to flash behind those distracted blue eyes, before he caught himself. *I know it's not me personally causing those dangerous feelings. *Just wish I could find some way to bridge the growing gap between us.

I give a sigh and try shaking it off, returning to give Shoma's message to Saeed.

"Still have your head on your shoulders, I see," the Devaronian grins.

"Yeah, he was rather sedate about the situation. *At least that's how he played it." I feel a frown creasing my brow.

"What next?"

I sit down in the co-pilot seat next to Saeed and fidget with the lift control, disabled now that we're in hyperspace. *"He wants to have a meeting with all of us in an hour, droids included."

"Hatching a plan. *At least he's not just daydreaming about Serci on the beach all this time." *Saeed snickers, but I don't even smile at his joke this time.

"What is it, kid? *Did he say something else?"

I shake my head. *"Not really. *It's not what he said... it's how he looked. *Really tired, sweaty, like he just went another round with that Krayt Dragon. *His lightsaber was still on its clip and he didn't have remotes out. *He almost seems... sick. *No matter how much he's worried about Serci, just meditating couldn't cause all that."

"He is moody," Saeed reminds me.

I slump back in the seat. *"Now I'm worried about him."

Saeed remains silent a moment. *Then he says, "Look, Shoma's survived more scrapes than any human I've ever seen. *And this time he's even more motivated. *He's not going to let anyone harm Serci. *I'll bet my horns on that!"

"I know, I know. *But this person following us... this Darksider... I've never seen Shoma fight, maybe he can take him, but... it would be better if I could help him."

Saeed gives me a puzzled look. *"I assumed you would be helping him. *Isn't that what Jedi apprentices do?"

"We're supposed to, but Shoma and I have barely practiced together... only a little bit on our way to Tatooine. *I've sparred with Serci, so I know her style, but I'm not familiar with his yet. *I could practice with remotes 'til my arms fall off, but it's not the same as hands-on learning with my Master."

The Devaronian puts a hand on my shoulder. *"Cool it, Jaren. *You're almost a Jedi too, remember? *Don't lose the match before it's even started! *What kind of talk is that? *You said a few minutes ago you and Shoma could take this guy!"

Standing up, I have to fight to keep my voice from raising a notch. *"You don't understand. *The Dark Side... it's powerful, it finds your weaknesses. *I'm not saying Shoma can't do it. *Maybe he could whip this creep with one hand tied behind his back. *If he's healthy. *But the way he looked just now... I'm telling you... he's not himself. *Something's affecting him, not his wounds, but deep inside. *I can feel it, and I sense he's trying to hide it from both of us."

I pause and stare at the strange patterns of light flashing in the viewports. *If Saeed has an opinion on the matter, he isn't sharing. *Closing my eyes, I briefly try to reach for Serci in the Force. *We're closer now... maybe I can get a read. *I remember what Master Yoda taught me when I was very young, before Master Tanner. *Let the Force flow, find the thread, but grab it not. *Touch it lightly, then guide you it will. *There! *I feel it... barely. *It and a touch from Master Tanner too. *The gift she gave me. *But I have to keep my track. *Serci... she's alive, not in physical pain at the moment, but agonizing nonetheless. *Something's hurt her, not just being separated from Shoma. *I feel her try to touch back, but it becomes a thrust... a pushing away. *She doesn't want me to know what's troubling her.

My eyes flutter open. *I should be more concerned, but I smile instead. *She wants to solve her own problems. *Shoma's taught her that lesson well. *Together they weren't like this, but apart they are hurting. *Maybe the only thing that'll help them both is reuniting. *Maybe then they'll realize how much they need each other.

Finally, I continue my speech. *"I'm not giving up, Saeed. *I won't. *I don't want Serci hurt any more than you or Shoma do. *I'll do everything I can to get her out of there. *But I can't do it alone."

Saeed stands next to me and turns me to face him. *"You won't be alone, kid. *We're all in this together."

Together. *He doesn't understand what that's supposed to mean for a Jedi Knight and his apprentice.</span>

[catwmnjedi]

<span style="color:#daa500">Darkness. *A blaster in her back. *Veedy’s slimy hand on her arm, keeping track of her. *Voices, a woman’s voice giving orders. *Pairs of bootheels clicking while they walked... five pair?

At the Temple, Serci had practiced her Jedi skills many hours while blindfolded. *Losing one sense only meant more of her Jedi senses required commissioning. *She concentrated on the woman leading them… a strong, intelligent mind, at the moment feeling a sense of control and power. *Perhaps the ring leader’s right hand? Serci caught one of the guards refer to her as Ms. Styles. *The Jedi sensed the guards held both a sense of respect and slight disdain toward Styles. *Yes, she probably is important, Serci decided. *

There were no force-using abilities detectable in any of the captors. *Yet the way Styles carried herself reminded Serci of her own focused and stubbornly determined nature… reminiscent of her own former life working with criminals as a student of the Dark Side. *Another brief scan of Styles revealed a sense of uneasiness, bordering on disgust, toward Veedy. *Something we have in common, Serci mused. *Information that might prove useful.

Four guards surrounded Serci and Veedy, two at each side and two behind. *A mixed breed, none human. *One Rodian, two Trianni and a Bothan, could’ve guessed him by the smell.

Direction. *Away from the ship, down a lift tube... how many levels? *Ten? *Through a corridor, pausing while the guards entered security codes. *Another corridor, a few turns, opening to a large room.

Veedy was still at her side. *Part of her wished him dead. *His blindfold was removed, but Serci’s remained.

“Wow, Jess... still lovely as ever,” the creep snickered, presumably at Styles.

Serci sensed the woman’s annoyance festering, but her voice remained calm and confident. “Save it, Barkin. *I’m not the one to suck up to around here.”

“I am,” a low voice echoed from the corner of the room. *Serci had the impression of shadows shrouding the figure. *“And what have you brought me? *Ah... the lovely Jedi doctor I’ve heard so much about. *Step closer, Doctor.”

Veedy released her arm and Serci slowly stepped toward the voice, head held high, showing no fear. *She scanned him with her senses, but could not get a good fix on his appearance, nor his nature. *Puzzling, but she refused to let it rattle her. *She had stood before potential executors countless times, and each time she believed her bravery took power and pleasure away from them. *If this man, creature, whatever he was desired her blood, then she wouldn’t allow the experience to be fun for him. *Only a quiet, meaningless death, if it came to that. *Of course she preferred to talk her way into living at least until Shoma arrived.

The being watched her for a moment, not moving out of the shadows, even though Serci could not see him. *“We should be in awe of such talent, Jessica,” he mused. *“Did you know this woman used her own body and blood to discover the mystery of the Jedi genetic code? *Even cloned a Jedi herself once?”

Veedy shifted his stance and shuddered at the being’s revelation. *Sheesh, what kind of psycho chick did I get mixed up with?, he thought.

Jessica nodded. *“Makes us almost look like amateurs,” she chided.

He knows? *The Jedi fought hard to conceal surprise. *After the events with the Techie cult on Corellia two years ago, more knew of Serci’s research on genetics, but the list of those who knew she’d actually succeeded cloning a Jedi once was extremely short… limited to three souls in the galaxy, plus a droid! *Shoma didn’t even know. *Only Master Yoda, her former professor/mentor Dr. Durannen, and the unfortunate padawan original, who disappeared after foiling the experiment, knew of her brief success. *She would have to meditate on the being’s access to such information later.

Next the being regarded Veedy. *“I must commend you, Barkin. *I wouldn’t have guessed you had the ability to capture such a prized hostage.”

Barkin cleared his throat. *“You know me... full of surprises. *I can be more resourceful than some give me credit,” he turned to glare at Jessica.

“This action does tempt me to reconsider your loyalty. *Jessica tells me you want your old job back.”

“If you still need technologies to administer your virus,” he replied.

The creature sighed. *“Yes, we need new methods, I’m afraid. *Since the good doctor figured out how to defeat the microbots. *Tell me Doctor,” he turned to Serci, “how did you figure the puzzle out on your own? *How did you know the Jedi Master’s death was not a natural virus or mutation of his own immune system?”

“Since genetics used to be a hobby of mine... I guessed,” Serci smiled coolly. *Then I met your buddy, Slimo here, and he foolishly used his bots to cheat at cards, right in front of a Jedi! *It wasn’t hard to fit together.”

The being interrupted the conversation momentarily and motioned for Jessica to remove the Jedi’s blindfold, to study Serci’s eyes during the interrogation.

Serci blinked to adjust her vision, but couldn’t decipher much more about her captor with the blindfold removed. *Still shrouded in shadows beneath his hooded cloak, only a gloved hand was revealed.

“You are not a dullard, true. *But I don’t believe you guessed. *An analytical mind like yours, Doctor, doesn’t rely on guessing. *Jedi... don’t rely on guessing.” *He drummed his fingers on the stone slab tabletop. *“I discovered we have a friend in common. *A Captain Pikros. *He gave you a ride to Ord Mantell, correct?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Serci witnessed Veedy shift uncomfortably at the mention of Pikros. *The Jedi didn’t flinch, but inside her stomach tumbled. *Pikros was a pirate, but not her personal enemy. *In fact, he’d helped her blow the case on Master Tanner wide open. *Without his help, she wouldn’t have gotten so close to obtaining the virus, and she always found his fascination with her amusing. *Betraying him would sentence more innocent people to death. *Think..., she commanded her brain, then without missing a beat, replied to the demon.

“True. *He’s always had a crush on me, and he wanted to bargain for my lightsaber.”

“And a Jedi needed a ride to Ord Mantell because...?” he probed.

“My master’s orders. *I was to take my Jedi Knight trial there.” *It wasn’t really a fib, from a certain point of view. *Well, maybe the part about Shoma ordering her. *The mission could have counted as her trial, had she succeeded. *

“Look,” Veedy interrupted. *“You can interrogate her later. *This meeting was with me, remember?”

The being ignored him. *“Your master couldn’t bother to give you a lift to your own trial?” His eyes watched her every face and body movement, watching for contradicting signs.

“That’s his style. *Prove I can do it all on my own. *When I got to Ord Mantell, I was waiting for my Jedi contact there. *Instead I bumped into lover-boy here, and he bragged about his inventions and more.”

Barkin started toward Serci in a rage. *“You lying, psycho, b-” Barkin’s expletive was interrupted when the guard behind him sent a stun bolt in his back to stop his outburst.

“Thank you.” Turning back to Serci, the creature continued. *“It seems Mr. Barkin disagrees with your version of the truth,” he calmly accused.

“He’s a liar and a cheat, as you know,” she countered, unwavering.

“Yes, but he has no motive to destroy my operation, the hand that feeds him, so to speak. *Especially now that he wishes to rejoin.”

“I have no comment about his motives,” she replied, “other than those I’ve uncovered since I met him seem to be less than honorable.”

The being laughed. *“Ironic, coming from you. *Since you don’t wish to confess the real source of your inside information about our product, it appears we are at a standstill. *I will, however, give you ample time to reconsider. *I admire your talents enough to reflect on how we might come to an arrangement that would benefit us both.” *He turned back to Jessica Styles. *“Jessica, take our guest to one of the secure storage rooms below.”</span>

[Mara1Jade]

<span style="color:7070ff">Elena shifted uncomfortably in the cargo container she’d been instructed to get inside right before they’d made the drop from hyperspace. *As if this wasn’t bad enough, she was starting to get a sinking suspicion that she’d been drugged again. *

Sithspit, Elena Catalina, where is your head? *You should have known you wouldn’t be walking into the place unbound and clear headed...

...but then, you have been on meds for your injuries sustained when your “Master” decided to slam you against a wall and knock you out...

She grimaced at that thought.

Drugging her would be easy enough to do.

Her Force-sense was groggy, and she was hesitant to use it, but she really didn’t like not knowing a thing about the place she was in. *Not knowing put her on edge. *Not knowing made her feel vulerable.

Still, if she used her Force-sense, Talman might become aware of her location.

Not that he wouldn’t become aware of it anyway.

Even though Talman was being promptly dragged to a detention cell somewhere probably deep within this facility, Elena still didn’t feel safe from him. *He’d find her. *He’d never leave her alone. *She was doomed.

She felt her storage crate being set down, and she perked her ears up using the Force, a small trick she’d actually been able to master somewhat. *She heard “Blue” give some sort of vocal confirmation, although she was entirely to doped up to make out what the confirmation was exactly. *Still, at the sound of Blue’s voice, Elena began to feel as though she were moving again, although she knew she was still on some sort of solid ground...or flooring at least.

Some sort of transit system, maybe? *One that required special access, thus the reason for Blue give some sort of vocal clearance?

Oh well. *Not that it mattered. *She was just curious...

Shifting once again, Elena became increasingly aware of the fact that her little storage container was getting hotter and smaller by the moment. *As well as she was that her thoughts were becoming more and more disjointed.

Sithspawning drugs!

She sighed disgustedly and closed her eyes, trying to block everything out. *Eternities passed. *She hoped that she’d simply fall unconscious, but she had no such luck. *Finally, after heavens knew how long, the storage container began to lift. *For a few more minutes she felt as though she was being carried somewhere by her...

...Captors? *Comrades? *Business Associates? *What were they...?

...and suddenly they halted all together. *The container was lowered, and Elena felt it *thump against what seemed to be flooring.

Someone took the top of the container off, allowing way too bright light to pour down on Elena. *She shielded her eyes from the light with her arm for a moment til she adjusted to it. *Then she took the hand that Dav offered her and stumbled out of the crate. *Whatever drug she’d been given this time was making her feel totally off balance.

Of course it was. *If her balance was off, then she couldn’t be absolutely sure how far she’d been taken from the surface...or if she’d really been taken from the surface at all.

“You will be seen shortly,” someone said. *After a bit of mental searching, Elena realized it was Blue. *She turned ever-so-slowly to face the Twi’lek, making sure not to throw herself off-balance in the move. *

“What about Talman?” she asked nervously.

“He won’t be a problem,” Blue said a bit cryptically. *

Elena frowned at that. *Why wasn’t anyone but her taking the threat Talman might present any more seriously? *Or were they, and were just trying to act as though they weren’t?

“You might as well sit down and wait,” Blue said, indicating a couch. *

She complied grudgingly. *

She hated this waiting around. *She wanted to get this going before Talman woke up and realized he’d been taken from her and placed in a detention cell. *

And the more space she could place between him and herself, the better...</span>

[Joruus]

There was a tone at the door, faint, dull, beckoning.

"Come," a voice spoke from the shadows, resonating amidst the chamber.

Jessica entered the being's dark place confidently, yet with arms full of goosebumps and hairs up on end. She shivered slightly.

The heater was turned off.

"Aren't you cold, sir?" she asked, slightly concerned, more for her own comfort than for his.

"Yes," he stated flatly. A long pause. "Refreshing, isn't it?"

Mrs. Styles declined to answer. It would either be a lie or a biting remark, either of which the being might not appreciate. "Your guest has arrived, sir," she put forth instead.

"It seems I have many guests these days," the being mused. "It's getting a bit claustrophobic down here; so many bodies in such a small space. I may have to eliminate a few..." His tone was drab, but he laughed warmly, as if to indicate that he were only joking.

Jessica looked at him, slightly confused. Her boss rarely, if ever showed an emotional trait such as humor.

A shadowed gloved hand waved off any further questions. The being had one of his own.

"Have you prepared my personal quarters for our guest's stay?" he queried. "I want her to experience only the best while she is here."

Jessica coughed. "I doubt she'll notice" she conjectured. "She has been a mercenary most of her life. Quite a spartan living."

"Yes, but give a woman who has nothing everything and she might be overwhelemed just enough to start trusting us. You'll see."

"It is already done."

The being laughed again. "Are you toying with me Ms. Styles?"

"No, sir," she responded with an equal coolness of her own.

"So steady under fire," the being wondered aloud. There was a sly grin forming beneath his mask. "Even from a man so unknown and misunderstood as me. That is what I admire about you... Send Ms. Catalina in."

Jessica nodded in a sighn of appreciation and left to to fetch their guest.

Moments later an unbalanced, slightly intoxicated Elena entered, brown hair tossled from days without grooming, circles under her glossed over brown eyes. Blue had one of Elena's arms wrapped around her shoulder and helped guide the being's guest to one of two durasteel chairs situated in the center of the room.

"Give her the antidote, Blue" the being ordered stiffly, though not unkindly, once the Twi'lek had set her load down.

Blue injected a small tube of green fluid into Elena's neck and almost immediately all of the latter's senses began to clear up. Hearing, vision, smell, taste, all returned without pain, but a tingling of sleeping nerves caused her back to arch in momentary agony as the feeling of touch once again became hers.

Ms. Catalina blinked several times in her chair, seemingly trying to erase groggyness and fight off the last vestiges of dizzyness, but in fact studying her surroundings, both to gather information on the mysterious entity called "the being" and to make sure Talman was no where near her vicinity.

The being waved his hand, and Blue backed off towards the doorway. "Wait right outside," he directed her calmly.

Elena's eyes tracked alertly towards the source of the voice and rested upon the shadowy corners. It was far to dark to see anything but a large behemoth emerging, a figure from nightmares. Upon his entrance into the light, Catalina was surprised to find the being's figure quite small and unassuming. He was a little shorter than even her, with a very thing build. Yet she did not let appearances fool her, for she could sense the energy of power in his voice, in his stance, in the way his robes flowed effortlessly across the floor as if he were almost levitating.

The door behind Elena closed with a rush of air, but she did not notice, so enthralled was she with the sight of her... well, she wasn't sure what he was.

"I am sorry for the incoveniences you have suffered in your journey," the being apologized, "not the least of which being the vicious attack by your supposed friend."

Elena winced, and checked for Talman's haunting presence lurking in each dark shadowy corner of the room.

"Fear, I sense in you," stated the being, watching her quietly.

Ms. Catalina opened her force abilities just a smudge and fingered the being's presence with the force's imaginary yet all so real tendrils. He was not Force sensitive.

"No, I am not Force sensitive," the being answered before she might even ask. His cloak swooshed and swirled with barely contained laughter. "I can see it in your eyes."

There was a pause, Elena was at a loss for what to say. This meeting was quite different than she had expected.

"What are you afraid of?" the being asked warmly, invitingly.

Elena didn't answer. There were too many monsters for her to state, much less ever face. Haunting regrets and tragedies, demons of the past.. An all to tangible devil of the present going by the name of Talman Myr.. And always too, loneliness, the wraith of her future...

"Do you fear him?" the being queried. A visual monitor descended from the ceiling. It buzzed to life, a picture of an unconcious Talman Myr lying on the floor ingrained in its screen. "You need not here."

Silence ensued.

"Do you fear me?" the being asked, voice modulating between cool detachment and menace.

Elena looked at him with the eyes of a little child, emotionally vulnerable and very afraid. Then her eyes and countenance hardened, as if she had come to some realization that she was being played.

"Very good," said the being as he calmly noted her change. "There are many weak-minded who cannot resist the powers of suggestion. You have passed a test which many fail."

The last words, so full of manipulation, stung Elena's cheeks like and ice storm, yet she could not help feeling a little warmed by his final compliment. Conflicted, she struggled for the first time to bite out a question.

"Why am I here?" she cried hoarsely, her throat still dry from the drugs she had taken.

"Why, so that you no longer have to be afraid," answered the being, as if it were the most elementary question in the world.

A warm draft began to enter the vents of the being's meeting room, a subtle attempt to make Elena more comfortable, more relaxed, more open.

"Prove it," Elena challenged at last, frustrated by this vague response. She was tired of waiting, she was tired of games and being played, she was tired of dark Jedi, and hypocritical Senators, and power hungry rascals, and even maybe a little tired of that thought of Rion running around in the back of her head right behind her eyeballs, tired of love... It all just hurt so much. She wished it would all go away. She needed answers, now! or she might go away, forever...

The picture on the monitor changed. It was the portrait of a female Jedi, dressed in the flowing robes of her padawan office, residing in one of the being's comfortable storage chambers. She was pacing around the room in calm thought and eventually sat down on the carpeted floor to meditate. Even shut, her eyes burned with passion. Her blond hair was tied neatly at the crick in the back of her neck.

"Do you know who this is?" the being questioned Elena.

"No..." Elena answered quickly, not recognizing her, then, suddenly, "yes."

"Who?" the being continued smoothly.

"One Dr. Serci Oran. She's in Scorpio's data files, both because she is a Jedi, and because of her groundbreaking work in genetics."

"Very good," stated the being affably, nodding his head appreciatively. "I have brought her here to help me. Not as a part of the Republic government, or as a Jedi, but as a scientist. I want her to help me find a cure to my own virus."

Elena's eyes shot wide open in surprise, then closed again in concealment. He mouth puffed out in an o, then back to a flat expressionless grimace.

"Why?" Elena could not help but asking. "Why ever would you want to do that?" This meeting was definitely not going as expected.

"Serci approached me actually, as a Jedi, fearful of the consequences that the creation of my virus might have on the galaxy. While I might use it to dispense justice, a goal which the Jedi endorse, she was fearful of what might happen if my creation ever fell into the wrong hands. Millions, no even billions of innocents could be wiped out. Understandably concerned, she came to me, and after much deliberation, I have decided that I agree with her assessment. This virus is too dangerous to be used without the presence of an effective cure. Dr. Oran will be helping me develop one, so that if my creation ever does fall into the wrong hands, damage will be minimal."

"I see," Elena stated, not quite understanding, but impressed by the being's logical reasoning power and humility none the less. There were few powerful men, or powerful beings of any kind, willing to give up their monopolies on that power.

"Why are you telling me this?" she wanted to ask. "Where do I fit in?" escaped her lips instead, as a sense of awe overcame her, at the opportunity of working for a being such as this, of becoming a part of a grand project such as this!

"You have information, you have resources," the being answered, carefully choosing his words. "Your abilities in reconnaisance and surveillance would be very useful to us, both in locating new targets and in administering the virus to them." *He paused as if to consider his next sentences. "We want order and justice to return to our government and galaxy as quickly as possible. You would be a key to that goal's fulfillment."

Elena was silent, thinking of the gargantuan size of such a task, of remaking the galaxy, and of the hardship involved. At the same time she could almost touch the joy that would come from making it a safer place for people like her, a place where Senators couldn't murder families and then hire those same family's children as bodyguards, a place where dark Jedi were extinct, a place where love could flourish again. The offer was tempting to say the least..

"Think about it," the being suggested, ending the meeting on that note. The door opened as he moved from Elena's side and approached it. His head still faced Elena. "Blue will be your tour guide during your stay. If you decide to decline my offer you are free to tell her and to leave at any time. But if you decide to accept...." The being let that sentence trail on. Elena could fill in the missing words with her own imagination.

"Show Elena to her quarters," he told Blue authoritatively. He motioned for Ms. Catalina to rise and exit.

Still somewhat stunned, she did. *

The door closed behind Blue and Elena as they left, proceeding farther and farther away from the brain of the of the being's headquarters and into its heart.

"Nothing to be afraid of..." the being chuckled to himself.
"Or everything..."

[Smeghead]

<span style="color:green">"Rion, don't do it" Rebeka said, running back to the cockpit.

"I don't think we have a choice" Rion said, reaching for the power switches. Beka stopped him. She knew that if they were boarded, they'd be placed in protective custody, and Intell would jump at the opportunity to use monopolise her talents for their own gain.

"We get boarded, and they'll throw us in a safe house for the next year, and we'll never be able to rescue your girlfriend." She said, "Look, land on that platform over there, and we'll make a break for it on foot. If we can get to a police station I'll call in a few favors to keep us out of a safehouse"

Rion opened up the throttle, pointing the hoverbus at the pad. The Intel APC tried to keep up with them, shouting idle threats the entire time, but Rion manuvered through traffic in such a way as to make pursuit nearly impossible. He set the bus on the pad, lining it up to keep anything else from landing there, and the two of them ran inside the building.

The building they had entered was an upscale commercial area, populated with many shoppers, even this early in the morning. It was a big crowd, and easy to hide in, which they would need if Intel spotted them.

Rebeka called up a local area map on her rig, quickly searching through it to find a police station, and found a small security station twenty-three levels up and one building over. They found a turbolift and took it up, during the ride, Rion gave Beka a condensed version of the events since the last time they'd seen each other.

The lift doors opened, and they were face to face with security droid.

"Rebeka Altes and associate, you are being placed in protective custody. Please follow me."</span>

[catwmnjedi]

<span style="color:#daa500">The storeroom was no guest room at the Corellian Embassy, but Serci could think of less comfortable accommodations, like a detention cell. *Carpet covered the hard floor at least, making her meditation slightly more comfortable. *When Jessica delivered her to the room, she'd handed Serci some loose-fitting peasant attire that could pass for Jedi wear, complete with a long, dark beige flowing robe. *It was more comfortable and made her feel more serene, more like a Jedi again.

Time on Serci's hands allowed her to reach out with the Force to the Corellian Knight again, first to Jaren, whom she'd put off earlier. *His prior intrusion had simply been poor timing, since she wanted to concentrate on where she was escorted and by whom.

Apparently Serci's timing was off now as well, sensing Jaren was preoccupied with something important… listening to Shoma and others… a meeting. *Shoma… she didn't dare interrupt him when he was trying to work on her rescue. *Still, she wanted to warn him they might be expected. *She couldn't be certain Veedy told the virus makers Jedi were on their way… after all, HE was the one who gave the destination away, which would likely be viewed as a betrayal. *Knowing Veedy though, he'd probably try to turn it around somehow, making it seem like he was warning the being of potential trouble.

Not taking chances, Serci invaded Jaren's thoughts briefly. *I'm OK, Jaren… tell Shoma they aren't mistreating me. *I lost the virus sample… we'll need to get it back. *Just be ready. *One of them knows you're coming. *Be ready for a trap. *These people aren't everyday scum, don't underestimate them…

She let go the force tendril and returned to her private thoughts. *Alone in the room, she realized how truly alone she was. *For two years, she'd spent nearly every waking moment with Master Shoma Barad, and enjoyed nearly every moment of it. *Despite his sometimes moody, volatile nature, he was almost always patient with his padawan. *He took so much risk insisting on training her, the Council seeming to grant his request as if daring him to try, yet he somehow managed to keep his cool and remain platonic in her presence. *

There were times when they had to sleep in the same quarters or cargo hold on missions, and Shoma always respected her privacy. *Even one time, when she expected him to lose that cool, he didn't. *It was on a mission when they were captured by an indigenous tribe and strung up as sacrifice for some "blood-sucking demon" the tribe thought was plaguing them. *Serci and Shoma were bound face-to-face by vines and hung upside down for a couple hours before they finally worked themselves loose. *Afterward he joked about it when he wanted to tease her, but not once while they were hanging there did he succumb to the reactions an ordinary man might have in such a situation.

Serci knew he was capable of reacting like a predictable male around women. *A few times she caught Shoma staring at a particularly beautiful one, and spied on his emotions. *One time he caught her probing and reprimanded her severely for the intrusion. *Somehow he could turn those same arduous feelings off toward Serci without effort. *She knew it was necessary in order to remain her master, but part of her wished it was more of a struggle for him. *I can attract the scum of the galaxy without trying, why not a charismatic Corellian Jedi?, she wondered.

Shaking her head, the Jedi laughed at herself. *Why am I taking his respect for me as a snub? *Her master cared for her deeply, as his padawan and dear friend, if nothing else. *Perhaps Shoma merely refused to let his feelings for her slink to that level because he cared so much, careful not to jeopardize her dream to become a Jedi Knight.

Serci stopped the self-talk and allowed all the memories of her training with Shoma flow freely, like a cool Mon Calamari sea breeze. *His laugh, his frown, his frustration, his pride, his calm, his brilliant blue eyes and playful smirk all flooded her consciousness and warmed her heart. *Serci recalled his touch too, when he'd squeeze her shoulder or take her hand, the times he'd lift her chin when she was down or brush the bangs from her eyes to read them as he questioned or lectured her. *Such simple things, such meaningful things. *He was a part of her now. *Through their connection in the Force, they shared something intimate, what only Jedi could share. *Could that be enough?

Taking a deep breath, Serci didn't answer that question. *Always in motion, the future is. *Such questions would have to wait. *She still had an important job to do.

That thought was interrupted by the lock unscrambling and the storeroom door swishing open.</span>

[Mara1Jade]

<span style="color:7070ff">Elena stood in the center of her rather lavish new quarters, her eyes huge with awe as she made a slow three-hundred and sixty degree turn right in the middle of the sleeping quarters.

Quarters? No, no. This was more than just quarters.

The room she’d been given was in fact part of a small suite including not only a rather lavish bedroom but also a sitting room, a kitchette, and an oversized fresher. The carpet was a soft, plush material and was a pale beige color, while the walls were a rich forest green. Along the top border of the wall was a rich wood molding. The ceilng was painted a soft white and was slightly valted, giving the otherwise dark room an open feel. The back wall, unlike the other three walls of the room, was decorated not in the same deep green but was elegantly painted with a beautiful mural of what looked to be a calm forest scene with a river running through the trees. The effect was a calming one; one Elena hadn’t felt in a while. The whole image reminded her of Cilpar. Reminded her of home.

This was home now.

At that, she smiled, albeit a touch sadly. Then she reminded herself just what she was getting and poof! the saddness disappeared.

Buddy, if this was the high life, she was could learn to like it!

But for the moment, all she could do was gape.

And to top all of the accurements of the bedroom off was a wonderfully large bed with a dark wood frame, laid with deep red satin sheets and a soft beige comforter.

What had SHE done to be afforded such generosity? Was her part in all of this so important? She was only a bodyguard, an information smuggler, and a spy...

She frowned as she sought deeper within.

But you can be more than that now, can’t you Elena?

She cocked her head to the side at that thought, wondering at how the voice in her head sounded so much like the voice of the man...was he a man or some other species?...in room she had just left.

You don’t have to be afraid...

At this she actually grinned. No sir, not anymore I don’t. Seems I suddenly have a bit of power over Talman that he doesn’t suspect in the least. That is, if he ever even shows up again. Hopefully that last virus or whatever they gave him knocked him out for good...but I’m not that lucky.

Oh, he’ll be back. And then, you’ll at LAST have the upper hand. And all the while you can help your new employer achieve all that you’ve always hoped the Universe would become. You Elena Catalina can help bring order and sanity and compassion back to the Universe.

Along with justice...and perhaps a bit of sweet revenge.

But in the meantime, she’d settle for a hot shower and a nice long nap...</span>

[Mara1Jade]

<span style="color:red">The mind of a madman can never truly be understood until his obsession is removed; for this obsession is what drives him and therefore is what makes him do the things he does. Talman Myr slowly drifted from the state of unconsciousness into natural sleep. Then, just as slowly, he began to waft even closer to wakefulness. As he did so, he ever-so-slowly realized something just wasn’t quite right with the Universe he’d created for himself.

At that, his glacial blue eyes snapped open, throwing all traces of the side-effects of the retrovirus as far away from him as he could. And only then did he discover just what was wrong with his immediate environment.

He honestly wasn’t too surprised that he was imprisoned and bound to a table, as though he was some sort of insane man. He wasn’t even surprised that Elena was missing. Wasn’t surprised that he was completely isolated.

He was surprised that he couldn’t feel the Force- or his beloved Dark Side- at all. Which in turn meant that he couldn’t do the one thing that he loved to do so very much- muddle with the mind of his one true obsession.

His apprentice. His Elena...

A cold, seething rage began to well up inside the rather small heart of the Darksider, and he found to his utter ire that he couldn’t do a thing with that rage he would have otherwise used as the fuel to unbind himself. He struggled against the straps which held him down, but found that, without the Force, he couldn’t do a thing to free himself.

His rage heightened to a blistering anger. Someone was probably getting a kick out of watching him struggle. Someone had to be watching- he knew that even without the Force to guide him.

But how were they doing this to him? How were they blocking the Force from him?

He angrily recalled the existence of a rather distasteful creature called ysalamiri. Those little imps could spread out a Force-bubble for a range of ten meters- a small range, but one that would be big enough to encompass Talman’s prison with just a handful of the creatures, if not even that many.

That had to be the answer. And it easily explained why he had been bound. For if he could find the ysalamiri that were blocking the Force from him, he could kill them with his bare hands, Force or no.

Nevermind the fact he was probably bound because the last time he was conscious he had slammed his own apprentice against a wall and nearly killed her.

Talman’s rage stepped up another notch at this recollection.

Elena was his apprentice. He would punish her for insobordination in the manner he saw fit. HE was the Master.

His fury finally in total disporportion to the situation he was finding himself in, his logic totally thrown to the wind, Talman did the one thing he could do.

He’d find his wayward apprentice and...take care of her later. But first he had to get himself freed.

Knowing that someone was out there watching him, somewhere, he raged to the top of his lungs, his chest slamming against his bounds with the exertion, “I know that you are out there!” he yelled. “COWARDS! You have me bound and Force-less; come and face me now while you have me at your will...or suffer the price of your stupidity when you least expect it...”</span>

[Meche]

Strofix looked around the city, taking it in. *Ghorman was well populated, and this was its second largest city. *Why hide in plain view? *Well, this will teach them to mess with Pikros's friends, she mused.

She followed Dallis, the ex-martial arts master, who walked ahead of the group. *Pikros had chosen only the pirates he trusted most to be part of the twenty or so sent to see if the tailor's shop was indeed the headquarters where Serci was traced to, and what was happening. *She and Dallis entered it first, followed by Bikron and Snacher. *Gingerly, the rest of the
pirate crew entered as well. *Bikron walked close to the walls, studying their details. *Snacher pushed him. *"Hey astrophysicist, are you an architect now?"

"If this place only pretends to be a tailor's business," said Dallis, "then my guess is that there are simply secret passages and rooms within. *Maybe it goes underground, but I doubt it."

"We'll see," said Strofix, approaching the desk.

"May I help you?" asked the young woman at the desk, coolly.

Strofix forgot what to say. *"Uhh, sure, you have my permission. *Um..." *Her disguised, smooth voice did not match the words.

"We make clothes here," the woman reminded her.

"Yeah... I'm looking for a one-piece black suit with a vest. *With some whitish blonde hair on top and a tiny braid there."

The woman's face did not change, but the room did. Security guards began opening doors and approaching the pirate group. *Strofix realized she had probably said the wrong thing. *"Uhh... Dallis?" *She watched the guards approach her. *"Dallis?" *She looked over. Dallis simply looked back at her quietly, shaking her head. *There were too many.

* * *

Sitting on the carpet, Serci looked up as the door to the storage room opened and three people, two human and one Rodian, all disheveled, were tossed in. *One was a human female, dressed decoratively yet without much sense of style, with her hair done in several braids and all tied together into one tail. *The human male was a rather tall lanky fellow in simple attire, who looked no more than twenty or so. *The Rodian looked similarly unable to fight well. *The female adjusted her jacket angrily as the door was locked behind her. *She looked at Serci. *"Blonde, padawan robes, freaky looking eyes. *You must be Serci Oran. *They told me about you."

Serci raised an eyebrow. *"Who do you mean?"

"My co-workers," the woman grinned. *"On the Lyddite."

"You work for Pikros?"

"Well... I was, until I was tossed in here." *The woman then stopped talking and looked around. "Nice... any blasters in here?"

The other two pirates ignored her. *Serci, however, observed her for a minute. *The pirate woman's eyes darted around the room, not really noticing anything, looking only for anything that resembled a blaster. She found none. *Sighing angrily again, she flicked her long brown braids, leaned against a wall, and kicked at it with her heels. *The young man watched her uneasily, looking like an embarrassed adolescent.

"Calm down, Strofix," said the Rodian. *"You can use yer smooth voice talk when they come back for us."

Strofix gave him a dirty look. *"I can't fight without a blaster, y'know that. *It's what I'm good at, it's all I can do." *She and the Rodian glared at each other. *The young human male simply rubbed at his fuzzy brown hair cut close to his head.

Smart, thought Serci. *The only people who share a room with me are ones who would be no help at all in escaping. *But maybe they can tell me... "Strofix," she said aloud, "how did you find where I was?"

"We followed you. *Ever since Pikros dropped you onto Ord Mantell, we had spies there following you. *We had been investigating Veedy when you started to; had a tracking and communication device on his ship, ever since he killed Kowan. *We saw you go into his ship, so we knew where you were. *We heard Veedy talk to the being's assistant-woman, so we found the headquarters area. *The rest was lucky guesses. *So where's Veedy?"

"I do not know," sighed Serci. *"Detention too I believe. *Did you mention a Kowan?"

"Kowan Reece worked with me. *The fool stole my stashes. *I would have killed him myself, but I had to find what he stole first. *Thanks to Veedy, now I never will... Kowan was also one of Pikros's best," she added sullenly.

Serci shook her head. *That Veedy... not that this should surprise her either. *"We'll have to think of a way to escape and deal with this being."

Strofix crossed her arms. *"They took everyone's blasters. *And how the hell could they have felt that vibro-knife in my boot?" *She rubbed her uncomfortably empty boot. *"Would be nice to have Dallis here at least. *She's the fighter."

Serci nodded. *"She'd be in a room by herself, then."

"We'll find a way," murmured the young man, as Strofix and the Rodian muttered among themselves.

"We'd have to calm down and think in order to do that," Serci answered him.

The man came over and sat down next to her. *"There are ways," he said, quietly so that the other two pirates did not hear. *Serci looked back at him, more closely. *She saw a pair of blue eyes that no longer looked young, that might as well have seen the birth of Ghorman's sun. *This man was considerably more mature than he at first seemed. *Just be calm. *I know a way, his eyes seemed to tell her. *And so they did. She felt him touch her through the Force, calming her.
As only a Jedi could.
"By the way," he added, "my name's Bikron."

[Smeghead]

<span style="color:green">"You wouldnt happen to have some slicer trick to get us out of this, would you?" Rion asked, looking at the steely barrel of the droids blaster.

"Not at hand, no." Rebeka replied, thinking of the baffle grenade sitting in her satchel. It would broadcast a short-range polymorphic broadband assault on the sensor arrays of the droid, rendering it a blind hulk of metal and circuts. The only problem was that she couldnt get to the grenade before the droid would stun her. This was a problem.

A the droid led them accross the plaza of the shopping area, a cloaked figure bumped into Rebeka, palming a small earpiece to her as they collided.

"Many apologies, madam" the figure said as he turned away. Something seemed odd about him, but she didnt think about it much as she stealthily slid the earpiece into her ear. Almost instantly static crackled over it and a voice hissed into her ear.

"I am led to believe that you would appreciate assistance out of your current predicament," the voice said, masked by a scrambler, "Nod if you agree with this assessment."

With no other options available, Rebeka nodded.

"Thank you. There will be a momentary lapse in transmission." it said, and the earpiece clicked off.

There was a brilliant flash and then the plaza went black. For a moment she thought someone had set of a flash grenade, when she realised that there was still light coming through the skylight at the center of the plaza.

The earpiece clicked on.

"That was a class C EM grenade. Every electronic system within half a kilometer has been disabled. The items in your shielded satchel should be fully operational, but your blasters and stunner will require recharging. Please proceed to the emergency exit, located twenty meters to your left"

"What *was* that?" Rion asked, fumbling for Rebeka in the dark.
"EM grenade." She said, "Seems we have an anonymous benifactor. C'mon" she said, pulling him after her.

They hit the door to the emergency stairs, taking them two at a time. The comlink crackled again.

"Proceed to the roof of the buliding. Be advised that Intell has dispatched reinforcements, ETA five minutes."

Ten levels up, Rion kicked open the door to the roof. The pair ran to the hovercar that was parked on the roof.

"We will attempt to get Intell to discontinue their attempts at taking you into custody. We reccomend you avoid you apartment and office for the next several days. We will contact you as the situation progresses." The earpiece clicked off.

"So," Rion said as he slid into the pilot seat and switched the engines on, "What do we do now?"</span>

[Joruus]

"Be careful what you wish for Talman," a dark voice laughed scornfully, words echoing from the walls, combining, mixing, twisting into something horrible and savage, snarling, perhaps even more ferocious and cunning than the evil darksider it mocked. The room was haunted with these sounds of fear, like wraiths, and Force-less Talman could not tell if it was only his own captive mind taunting him.

Shadows scurried along the once bright walls... Rats or tentacles, as if the eclipsed shapes, themselves so black as bottomless pits, were fleeing from something darker. And what is darker than shadow? Of what do shadows fear?

The heart. The darkness of the human heart...

Talman could not hear it beating or he would've choked on it, a noise, a pulse, a sound so abominable that it did not deserve to flutter, to run a living body, or even to sustain a decayed and dieing soul. It wreaked foul, unsmellable stench, contaminating all the air it moved in its terrible palpitations. The shadows, fleeing, flew back, and were forced together, forged into an image, into a being, a being ensconced in blackness, not from tricks of light or magic, but emanating from his pores, tangible, touchable, tasted, bitter...

"Where are you coward?" shouted Talman. "Do you speak but dare not show yourself? Do you think your parlor tricks can frighten me? I am a master of the Force! I rule the darkness!"

"The Force means nothing here.... nothing here... nothing here..." A simple statement, with no underlying meaning, but echoed coldly, intoned with underlying cruelty, the sound of a man who manipulated even the forces that bind the universe, who controlled life and death from the tip of his smallest toe to the regal crown of his skull.

"The Force means nothing to me..." The voice was a hiss now, a giant serpent, not tempting, not threatening, only waiting, coiling, enveloping space and time into itself slowly, slowly, till it would be time and space itself, it would be the universe... It would be all power.

Even Talman, without the Force, consumed with his own darkeness could sense this other's, a mind diseased, a body oppressed beneath the great weight of night, withering without sun, turning even from the cold light of bitter moon, and the far off isolated stars of ice. For the first time in his life, Talman was not drawing power from another, but loosing it. It oozed out of him, at first trickling, then a stream, then a roaring river, so might that no dam could stop its flow. Drained, draining... dissapearing into the emptiness that only darkness can fear, Talman trembled. He twitched angrily. He tensed and glared in hate, glared at darkness, with no focus for his anger. No place to unleash his hatred. Talman, Talman the darksider, who vowed only to inflict and never to fell pain, could actually feel himself suffering...

"What do you want with me?" he asked, teeth chattering, trembling, in rage; in barely contained nervousness, squirming.

"You called for me." Laughter again, ironic. Resonating, pulsing, alive in itself, surrounding and overunning. Talman's arms were tied tight, he wished he could close or even chop off his ears, mutilate them so that he could not longer listen to its mockery, to his own shame, to his own fear. His brain could not think amidst the clatter, the curtain of darkness feel upon his stage, the audience gone, he could not act any longer... Not ideas for escape, not ideas for vengeance, not ideas for anything more than simple conversation, a few *tentative questions, a few frightening answers...

"It is unwise to call a man a coward," the voice taught, patronizing. It expected no answer, for it tone froze all other voices in horror or awe. "When you call a man that, you challenge his honor. And men fighting for honor are quite... unpredictable..." Chuckles.. nothing but air consumed with twisted glee.

A monstrous head appeared right above Talman. He could invision yellow slitted Reptilian eyes, a split-fork tongue, fangs and venom, biting into him. He ducked away. But the maw was just the shadows, that great entity of shadows, that existed, but didn't... A being cloaked in shadow. A being made of shadow. Talman was dark, but he was not darkness. Darkness would consume him, as it had the shadows.

"Why the games?" he scoffed, trying to resume and air of pride, of confidence, any establishment of his own will. "You talk but you still hide. Are you scared of me, even stripped as I am of my Force? Do you fear me that much?"

"I fear nothing!!!!" The maw was giant, all enveloping, a grin that swallowed the room, that swallowed Talman, forcing it down the throat, digesting him, taking him apart and rebuilding him, until he was no longer himself, indistinguishable from the creature's own body, merely an instrument of foreign will.

"Are you afraid?" whispered venom in his ear, or his ears, or his nose, at his toes, he could not tell, the voice was everywhere, and he was... he was nowhere, lost in nothingness. A part of nothingness. He was... nothingness... So... alone. He thought of Elena.

"No," he gulped, trying to blink back hallucination, or mirage, or whatever it was that toyed with him, played with him, predator with prey, not for the meat, but for the sheer joy of control, outwitting another living thing, being equals, and yet being above that equal, superior in every possible way, feeding mentaly and emotionally, feasting on spirit.

"I do not know fear," he bit his tongue, the pain restoring some semblance of true vision and knowledge to him, true vision against the wraiths of this broken room. "I know only anger. And vengeance," his voice strengthened, his will rebutted, pushing back against anothers, against tricks and petty magic, against darkness, against light, against creatures and monsters and beings, all that stood between his isolated self and his base of power, his dark heart. "Beware my vengeance," he threatened, daring, taunting. "For it will be upon you." Talman expanded growing, envisioning a future of his dreams, or his imaginations free of his oppressor. "And your shadows shall cling to me." Pause. Strength. "Your darkness shall be drawn to me." Rage! Will! Force! "I shall cloak myself in robes of power, and you... you shall weep... You... you shall be broken!!!"

The shadows died away, fleeing from the taunts, leaving at the wave of a thickly gloved hand, signalling to a camera, and a man with mirrors and lights and smoke and sound...

The creature was there, not snake, not darkness, yet clothed in black, tall, muscular, intimidating. He held some sort of glass object in one gloved hand and was flipping it... klick, flipping it, klick... spinning it and catching it in a measure of skill and apathy.

"Idle threat from idle minds..." a calmer, cleaner, but still dangerous and strong voice intoned. "You see Talman, I hold all the pieces." There was a pause. "And you, you my friend, are one of them." The voice was filled with pride of ownership now, expanding against Talman's own bubble of power. "You could have been a partner too... A pity."

"I am no one's pawn, and no one's pity!" Talman seethed. "I am a darksider, master of powers you cannot comprehend, the Force!! You should be my servant!" A crack, in voice, in mind, in feeling...

"You are nothing!" spit the husky voice from behing the mask, protected from shame, harm and association, inhuman, more human than could be conceived... "Nothing but untapped agression, unmanageable anger, uncontrolled fear. You are potential... nothing more than unrealized potential." The being words stung like fall rains, devaluing Talman's worth, probing his insecurities, tempting, taunting...

"And you would aim to teach me?" Talman scoffed, indignant.

"I would aim to use you," the being replied icily. "You work for me now." The words held confidence, and truth.

"Never! I am no man's slave. I am..."

"Talman Myr. I know. But even your feared name cannot save you now."

The being held up the vial, swung it before Talman's eyes, tick-tock, tick-tock, hypnotizing, mesmerizing. "I have your blood. I have your DNA. With them I hold you, your power, your life within my hands! I can free you," he opened his palm, "or break you," his palm became a fist, grinding. "The choice is yours. Bow your will to me once, one favor, and you go free. Refuse... and well, you are too much the liability for me to keep..."

"What about Elena?" Talman's train of thought shifted suddenly, in almost... dark love for his apprentice. Or perhaps just in fear for a posession.

"What's this, a darksider caring about another living creature?" the being chortled, dark eyes beneath dark visage dancing around the cold black fire of darkness itself, burning black, blacker than Talman's heart, blacker than his being, his force, his mind, his soul. "She," the being paused for emphasis, "she is already mine." The sound of his voice knelled death.

Elena, even precious Elena was gone from Talman now. His power. His obsession. Talman did the only thing his twisted body could conceive. He raged and raged, foaming, foaming from the mouth, blood spurting from his pores in ire and stress as he pressed against his bonds, fighting free. One strap snapped. He raised his arm to fight, to inflict even some little bit of pain against the dark being who made his own heart suffer. The being slammed it down, overpowering him with one massively robed arm, twisting Talman's own until it was at the point of breaking.

"Even if you free those bonds, you shall never be free of me..." it whispered.

The darkness in the room lifted, the being departed, but Talman, poor poor Talman, could not wake up from his nightmares...

[catwmnjedi]

<span style="color:#daa500">"Nice to meet you," Serci replied to Bikron, who gently sent a message through the Force to keep his Jedi identity secret from the other pirates. *For a brief moment, he shed his youthful innocence that disguised him, allowing her to see his true self; wise and worldly, patient and calculating, noble and humble. *As his vivid blue eyes held hers in force-connection, Serci was reminded again of her master, whose eyes betrayed similar Jedi traits while communing with the Force. *

"'Nuff with the cute pleasantries, Bikron. *I need outta here," the pirate woman, Strofix, grumbled under her breath. *

Serci remembered pirates had difficulty in captivity. *Not that she enjoyed it either, but Jedi skills helped in such circumstances. *She sensed Strofix would be comforted only by a fully charged blaster.

Carrying the conversation further would not do in front of the surveillance cam, but once it was destroyed, the guards would surely investigate. Serci glanced from Strofix to Bikron and thought of a plan. The trick would be causing a distraction for the guards when they arrived. First, she passed a message through the Force to Bikron...

I can't leave here without the deadly virus this being has created. I'll stay in custody to hear his offer, his reason for not killing me already. My master's on his way here with other Jedi, she assured him, but I'll call if we need help.

Bikron's silent reply followed. OK... but be mindful., he requested.

Serci then called on Bikron's immediate help, who nodded and concentrated through the force to locate and destroy the surveillance cam. Together they manipulated the cam to crush in on itself, loosen from it's mounting and pull through the ceiling. It just missed Strofix's head, crashing instead at her feet.

"Holy crippin'..." Strofix gasped, instictively jumping out of harm's way. "Watch that, will ya force girl!? Great, now we gotta think of a way past the guards in a hurry!"

"Sorry," Serci replied. "I thought we might get more accomplished in private. I appreciate your searching for me up there, but I have to stay to hear the offer our host will present me. *I know it'll bring me closer to what I sought on Ord Mantell."

Strofix glared at Bikron, then to the Rodian in disbelief. *"You mean Pikros sent us here for nothin'!"

"There's still the Barkin human who stole Reece's ID," the Rodian reminded.

"Pikros won't like me leaving here empty-handed," Strofix argued, then gave Serci a strange glance. *"For whatever reason, he's fond of the Jedi."

The Jedi woman sighed and kept her calm. *"When the time is right, and when I'm free from here, I'll touch base with your captain so he'll know your mission succeeded. *If you need something to bring back to him, try getting your hands on a virus sample. *The Jedi will pay handsomely for it if I fail to retrieve one myself."

That suggestion seemed to appease Strofix for the moment, as the invisible wheels of the pirate's greedy mind churned. *Then a smile spread on the spark-killer's face as she whispered, *"I think I've got a way to get past the guards..."

* * * * *

A warning light flashed and alarm sounded, indicating surveillance cam 4 had a failure, which grabbed instant attention from the sentries playing Sabaac in the lounge at the end of the hall. *As the guards ran to investigate, Serci's scream echoed from the locked room. The sentries hesitated at the door, but the one with higher rank reminded his subordinate of the being's strict order: make sure the Jedi woman remained unharmed.

They burst into the storeroom, finding Strofix and Bikron orchestrating a lively and convincing fight scene… Bikron grabbing Strofix's hair, then Strofix swinging around to kick him hard in the nose, causing it to actually bleed. *As his hands went up to further protect his face, she whipped a second kick square to his groin, though much softer than she made it appear to the gaping guards. *Bikron groaned and fell to his knees, clutching his feigned injury and falling onto his side in fetal position.

The guards watched the Rodian pull Strofix back, restraining her. *Both guards' blaster rifles were instantly trained on the prisoners, one on Bikron and one on Strofix.

"What's going on!?" one guard shouted at the Rodian.

Serci answered breathlessly. *"They're crazy! *I want them out of here! *First the guy tried forcing himself on me, then the woman started beating the poodoo out of him!"

"I was trying to stop him from messin' with you, force-girl," Strofix spat. *"What kind of Jedi doesn't try to defend herself from a no-good brute!"

"He caught me off guard, I'm not used to such unsavory behavior," Serci whined, then turned to the guards. *"Get them out of here, please. *Tell your master I need his decision on what will become of me quickly." *Her hand subtly waved beneath her robes as her request was given.

The guards looked at each other and the ranking superior made the decision. *"Call for backup, then pick him up and put him in a real detention cell with the others. *I'll send for Ms. Styles to deal with the Jedi."

As the subordinate guard backed out the doorway into the hallway, Bikron miraculously sprang to life and kicked the other guard standing over him to the carpet. *Serci used the Force to knock the blaster from the far guard's hand, then Strofix and the Rodian jumped him. *Strofix shot a stun-blast at each once she recovered the blaster rifle from the floor. *She gave a wicked laugh, then kissed the rifle and saluted Serci. *

"Best of luck, Jedi," Strofix shouted above the wailing alarms. *"Any special messages for our friend Mr. Barkin when we find him?"

Serci almost provided one, then smiled and shook her head. *"No… I don't think I need to remind him he's due what's coming."

"Come on, before more flunkies show," Bikron urged and gave Strofix a gentle shove out the door. *He turned back to Serci for a last wink and smile, knowing their paths would cross again once his masquerade was over.

Amid the blaring noise, flashing lights and fallen guards, Serci sat back down on the carpet, waiting to be taken once again to the mysterious being.</span>

[Joruus]

A cab is easy to hail on Coruscant. They are lifting off and landing everywhere all the time. We snag a speedy one and are almost at the police station before Driana can once again get up the courage to tell me her secret. I do not press. ‘Just let her breathe easy,’ I think to myself. It will come.

Time stretches a little and I grow impatient. Now it’s, ‘breathe easy yourself Janyen or it might not.’

At last, she parts her lips, moistens their dry surface with a long sweep of her tongue, and, a little pale despite her blush, asks, “Is now a good time?”

I sort of want to laugh. To think she’s been waiting on me all this time! I contain my chuckle and reply with just a little hum of a yes.

“Do you remember when I was little Janyen?” Dree leads into her tale.

“Mmm… yes. I even remember when you were born.”

“Do you remember if my mom gave anything to my dad on that day?” she continues, prodding.

I consider. “No,” I state truthfully.

“Well, she did.” A pause. I bite my tongue. I hate suspense. “She gave him a ring.”

“A ring?” I repeat, not understanding.

“Yes, a ring… only it wasn’t just any ring, it was a very special ring. Instead of a jewel it contained a piece of glass with one of my newborn hairs imbedded in it.”

“Oh,” I say pleasantly. “That’s a very cute gift. That way you can al…”

“That way I can always be near him,” Dree echoes.

“Come to think of it,” I keep talking, unperturbed, “I do remember him wearing a ring similar to your description quite often. I think I asked him about it once. I must have forgotten his explanation. I didn’t see it when we went through his stuff at home at any rate.”

“That’s just the thing,” Driana ventures. “He never took it off. He always wore it.”

“But, it wasn’t on the body.” I stop. I repeat the words in my head slowly.

“Then where is it?” we ask each other simultaneously.

“Let’s ask the police,” I suggest logically. “Maybe they saw it when they searched Relar’s senate quarters and office.”

“It’s not there,” Driana presses. “I’m telling you, Daddy never took it off.”

“If you insist,” I answer softly, trying to soothe her. I pat the holo-emitter by my side. “Tell you what, one clue at a time. A lot of the things your Daddy did that day don’t make sense. For all we know this missing ring could mean nothing. But if the police didn’t find it and you didn’t see it, then maybe we’ve got something.”

“All right,” she replies pensively. I’m trying to decide whether she’s pouting or not.

“Don’t worry.” She reads my mind. “I’m not pouting. Just worried that’s all.”

“You just want this whole case to be solved, a motive and a murderer found, don’t you?” I look in her eyes and try to somehow show her my empathy. “You need closure,” I continue. “Trust me; I’m a minister. I know these things. Just be patient, nobody’s being lax, especially me. We’ll find him. We’ll find him.”

I reach over and give Dree a hug, and she responds warmly, her arms wrapping around my waist and mine enveloping her shoulders. My last words sound dully in my head. Every day our puzzle grows more mysterious. Will it ever be solved?

* * * * * * * *

Though it is night, the police office is well staffed. There’s crime on Coruscant no matter what the time. I wonder apprehensively if Beka or Leuis will be there. They might have gone home to rest long ago. Then again, if they have, perhaps they’ll be willing to come back in to work on evidence as important as this.

I needn’t have worried. Leuis, at least, is in his office sifting through paper work--old interviews and reports--trying to squeak out a few more connections and maybe even a possible solution to his biggest case. Absorbed, he does not hear us approach through the open door until we are almost on top of him.

He looks at us strangely, then back at his work. “You couldn’t sleep either?” he asks knowingly.

“Well, not exactly,” I say. “Hey, is Beka around?”

“No. But I just got a call from her. She’ll be in shortly. Seems she’s got a friend she thinks could be helpful in the case.”

“That’s good news.”

Leuis sighs. “I hope so.”

“Tough day?” Dree asks.

“Tough week.” He chuckles. He stops and remembers something. “So why did you two want to see Beka?”

“Well, let’s just say we found something that might make your week a whole lot better,” I reply.

“Considering that this case is going nowhere right now, you’d have to have brought me our murderer’s head on a platter in order to make that happen…”

“Do you think in a picture frame would do?” I smirk, delighted with my cleverness.

“What are you talking about?” he blurts out bewildered. His face is all scraggled and squished together in an almost inhuman expression of exasperation.

“This.” I pull out the holo-emitter frame and its accompanying piece of paper. I show him Relar’s message in the same way I showed Dree while she explains the story of the picture as well as our logic about the computer records.

At about that time Beka suddenly shows up behind us. She’s leaning in the doorway out of breath, a couple of tears in her clothing, with tousled hair and a harried look about her. A man of similar height with dark hair and handsome eyes stands behind her. He lounges in the doorway appearing less flustered, but his tan skin glistens with a running sweat.

“What happened to you two?” a trio of voices stutter.

“Long story,” she says, shrugging her appearance off. Or maybe she’s trying to motion for Dree and me to leave the room so that she can talk with Leuis alone.

“Well, it will have to wait Beka,” Leuis states flatly, quickly cutting off that notion. “Janyen here has been nice enough to provide us with some new evidence, and we need your skills.”

Leuis pauses before going further, remembering that whoever the mysterious male strange is, so far, he’s not part of the investigation.

The stranger notices the police chief looking over him intently, bows his head in understanding, and wanders out to the waiting room. Beka watches him go, makes a move to protest, but then demurs.

“What’s up?” she asks instead, squeezing herself back into professional detective mode.

“This.” We go through the whole information sharing process again.

“Is there anything you can do with it?” Leuis asks her, once she’s finally had a chance to consider the evidence.

“We can see.”

Our group shifts over to Beka’s office where she’s got all her slicing tools camped out.

The emitter’s communication system is fairly simple, but we discover that it is almost brand new. There are no remnants of old image imprintings stored within its programming.

The group sighs frustrated, but Beka does not stop her search, apparently intrigued by some oddity she’s found within the emitter coding.

“Hah!” she exclaims. “That’s pretty ingenious. Wouldn’t of thought to give the old guy credit for that.”

“What have you found?” Leuis asks, tense.

“Yeah, what?” I repeat. I am just as eager to know. Dree’s violet eyes light up, hopeful.

“Well…” Beka turns her data monitor towards us to give a better view of her work. “One of the activation files for image movement has been altered. It doesn’t effect a static image, but basically whoever altered the file knocked out the 3-D image matrix.”

“Any idea why?”

“Of course. I have every idea why,” she retorts smugly.

She clicks a button and one of her data applets runs, dissecting and processing the altered section of programming.

A group of numbers pops up on the screen.

“Hmm,” Beka muses. “I thought they’d be letters.”

“What would be letters?” We ask.

“Well, if you’re really good with the old binary coding system, you could actually leave a message within a computer’s programming language. All one would have to do is analyze the command matrix and adjust the ones and zeroes within it to correspond to letter coding. Whoever messed with this emitter did just that; only they left us numbers.”

Beka pauses and slowly reads them off for us, despite the fact that we can plainly see them. It probably helps her to think.

“Four, four, three, six, two, one, five. Don’t suppose those mean anything to any of you?”

Dree looks at me and shrugs in ignorance. I search my memory banks for answers, trying to recall all numbers that have had significance in my life, in hers, or in Relar’s. In going so far back, I almost miss the obvious.

“I know what those numbers mean,” I gasp at last in surprise. “They’re the password for my ministry computer!”


Our group is blasting off in a squad car before more words can be said. Somehow Beka convinces Leuis to let her mysterious gentleman friend tag along as well. He introduces himself to us as Rion and says merely that he also has a private interest in the case. I eye him somewhat suspiciously, but with no evidence to push my assumptions about him towards good or ill, I let him off without an interrogation.

My apartment, untouched by me in the last month because of some preaching travels throughout the planets of the Outer Core, is just as I remember it, even the part where Relar use to sleep when he would be my guest. I rented a hotel and didn’t stay here because I didn’t think I could take seeing this place again. Too much that had once been here was mine no longer.

Now though, I push all emotion and sentimentalism aside, scoot through the darkness effortlessly, threading my way around sofas and chairs and tables almost as if it’s second nature. Someone else has to call out, “lights!” in fact.

My ministry computer is in my old bedroom, sterile from disuse. The bed’s about as neat as I’ve ever folded anything. If one had caught me while I was living there, it would never have been that clean. I power up my monitor and hop on the network access port. My screen name flashes and I type in the password, which oddly consists of only the first six numbers of the code from the emitter. Following the log-in, I am granted a moment of inspiration, and going to the program menu run the fifth program listed. It’s my address book.

A quick scan reveals little to me, except that I don’t seem to recognize two of the name listed. Leuis motions for me to click on one. He says it's the name of the doctor listed on the chart for Relar’s medical appointment the day he died. The information comes up and I transfer it to a ready datapad. There’s one other unfamiliar listing, and I download that too. There’s no name actually, only a ---- in place of it, and an address listing. No one recognizes the location.

I hand the datapad over to Leuis and he examines the information thoroughly. My heart skips in anticipation and I can see Driana trying to choke back her own hopes. Beka just looks tired and Rion’s expression doesn’t change much at all.

“Well, well,” Leuis states at last. “It seems our friend Dr. Thom Kroden has a summer home on Bortis… Looks like we’re all going to be taking a little vacation…”

[catwmnjedi]

<span style="color:#d2691e">A young man, perhaps twelve or so, was having a lesson at the Temple with a Twi'lek master Serci didn't recognize. Her vision was fringed by the gold and rust leaves of a hedge she peered through, watching the exercise. For whatever reason, she had the sensation she could not go around the hedge and make herself known to the padawan and his teacher. Not only because it would interrupt them during a parrying exercise, but something else very odd… as if it were forbidden.

So she watched in silence, the boy whose saber style was remarkably familiar, yet surprisingly focused and aggressive for his age. His padawan braid whipped out as he turned and swiped and blocked and leaped in a display almost exhausting to watch. Serci wasn't sure when she'd seen a finer execution of saber technique. The master was keeping up, but barely, smiling with pride each time his attack was foiled by the apprentice.

Serci could not tear her eyes away, yet had no clue why. She felt detached from her body… as if she was there, but wasn’t, as if she was watching her own actions and feelings as an observer, not participant.

The master called the match, and the boy wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve, smiling broadly. "Better this time?" he fished for master's praise.

"Keep it up and I may need to get Master Yoda to run exercises with you. You still need more work on managing your energy consumption. I can hear your panting."

"Yes master," the boy humbly replied, clipping his saber back onto his belt. He walked to the fountain and drank some fresh water from a cupped hand.

"I sense you lost concentration for a moment too. Something bothering you, Jaren?"

Serci's ears pricked up. The boy's name was Jaren? Definitely not the Jaren she knew.. far too young and looked nothing like him. At least what she could see. From his profile at that distance, she couldn't get a good look at his face. His hair was a very light blonde and his skin was fair, not tanned like Jaren Kubay's.

"Not really. I just had a moment when… I was distracted by a presence." The boy's voice softened and took on a more serious tone. "I think she arrives today."

Waiting for him to turn her way, Serci didn't dare move. The master nodded, then came to his side and padded his shoulder. "I know it's difficult, but you understand why it must be. For both of you."

"Yes master," the boy repeated, more sullenly this time.

"I'll let you alone to meditate. Then we leave for Ithor. You may say a farewell to Master Yoda if you wish." The apprentice nodded and bowed, then the Twi'lek strode off and left him alone by the fountain.

Staring at his reflection, a strained sadness spread about him. Serci felt a pang of deep empathy and a strong desire to run and hug the lad, but she refrained, frozen at her surveillance post.

Slowly the boy turned to face her, eyes immediately drawn to hers as if he knew exactly where she stood. Violet eyes as vivid as her own…

Serci shot upright, waking to a dark room, not the same one she last remembered squatting in, waiting for more guards to show after the pirates escaped. Someone had put her to sleep and moved her…</span>

[Joruus]

The being was flipping a coin in his hand, over and over again. It had a rusty coloring, looked old and dulled from use, and was of an origin unbeknownst to Jessica. It seemed to float in the darkness. Its constant moving disconcerted her.

"You have a report for me?" a voice asked from somewhere within the room. Echoes flew, repeating the question over and over again in a haunting manner. The shadows shimmered without waiting for an answer, and the being emerged from them, visible now along with his toy.

"Yes, sir," Jessica said. A gulp caught in her throat and her voice cracked noticeably.

"Something wrong?" the being asked. "An escape perhaps?" His gaze, of unknown origin, mysteriously hidden beneath layers of dark cloth, caught her fast in an icy grip. His tone remained even, though, not a hint of guessing nor of disapproval in it. The coin kept flipping in his gloved palm, motion uninterrupted by his words. Up and down, up and down. It seemed to be in rhythym with Jessica's disturbed heartbeat.

"The pirates, they've broken free," Jessica stuttered. The only thing keeping her breathing steady and her trembling body on its feet was that coin. If it stopped...

"Ah." The being caught the coin in his hand. Jessica's heart caught on a rib and found itself unable to pump blood, her breath snagged in her throat, tearing at her windpipe. She swallowed once, quietly and fearfully awaiting an outburst.

"Heads or tails?" the being asked instead.

There was a long pause.

"H-heads?" Jessica choked out, hesitantly. Her mind stood utterly confused. The being's gaze shifted from her to the coin. It was indeed heads.

"Well, that takes care of that then," the being whispered. "What about the Jedi?" he wanted to know, switching subjects. He began to flip the coin again.

"She remains." Jessica's heart restarted, unsure of, but glad for what had happened. Her lungs, liberated, took in sweet air and the trembles in her body subsided.

"Not even Bikron stayed with her?" The being questioned. His head was turned towards the wall again, studying it, as if he were searching for a pattern.

"No. Why?" Jessica's voice purred with curiosity.

"He acts differently than the others. Not brash enough to be a pirate." There was no sound of superiority in this revelation, only a hint of truth. "I thought well... I'm not sure what I think yet."

"If he's not a pirate, then what is he?" Jessica wanted to know. She had also observed that Bikron was more patient than the other pirates, but had just assumed that he was being cool and calculating, a slightly more advanced class of criminal.

"I'm sending his face through the databanks now. We'll know soon enough." The being kept his face away from Jessica, the coin still cycling in his hand. "In the mean time, move Serci to a more spartan and more secure room. Use sleeping gas for effect. I don't want her to have the least feeling of comfort or choice in the matter."

"Yes, sir," Jessica said. She felt relieved, at ease. Somehow, in this test of skill, despite security's failure, her life and her position were still safe.

"Do you fear me?" the being growled suddenly as he turned to face her. One large gloved hand shot out at Jessica, grabbing her chin and forcing her gaze upward to meet his eyes. She stood firm, though her legs felt like jelly and her mind, in fight or flight mode, told her to flee. The being ran a finger caressingly along the bone of her jaw to the end of her chin. Then, abruptly, he let his hand fall to his side. "Don't."

"Yes, sir," Jessica gasped, everything rushing with adrenalin. All efforts to calm herself, and to regain her composure for one last time, failed.

"Mistakes are human. And sometimes, though you don't think so, they aren't mistakes at all."

"Yes, sir." These traditional words seemed to strengthen her.

The coin, which had stalled with this lesson, started flipping again. The being strode away from Jessica and began a slow contemplative circling of the room.

"What about the pirates?" Jessica felt a need to ask, even though she herself wanted to leave as quickly as possible.

"Let them escape," the being said, halting. His voice echoed backwards towards his assistant, its recent understanding and kindness replaced with the unhuman voice of stone walls. "But not before they've had a chance to have a little chat with our friend Veedy..."

[Shoma Barad]

<span style="color:darkblue">The dining area on board the Corellian Knight was cramped at the best of times- converted into a makeshift conference room, with datapads, holo-monitors and holomaps strewn about, the situation was even less comfortable than usual. That, coupled with the fact that instead of two or three individuals, there were three individuals and three droids. After two hours and getting no where in the process, Shoma had all but had enough.

It was not the best atmosphere for in depth planning or preparation. Shoma Barad’s mood was already sour, with the darkness of his own mind gnawing at the edges of his consciousness. He was frustrated, he was exhausted, and for the first time in a long time, he actually felt a considerable amount of fear. It was unnerving, and he was not enjoying the experience. He knew that Saeed was only trying to lighten the mood by joking around, but it took all that remained of his self control not start yelling at the Devaronian. The life of the woman Shoma loved hung in the balance. Some semblance of seriousness needed to be maintained.

Despite the boiling anger inside, SHoma managed a tone of voice approaching civility. “Despite his best efforts to defend his position, I don’t think we’ll be following Saeed’s suggestions this time out.”

Saeed’s face dropped, a look of mock surprise upon it. “Really? Why?”

Jaren chuckled lightly. “Don’t get us wrong, Saeed. Your plan has it’s good points, but a suicidal-death-charge towards an overwhe