Force Exile V: Warrior/Part 6

12
Ryion had just activated the open sign on his small leased toy shop when he heard the chime of the door opening. Turning around from where he was arranging cheaply-made plastine Luke Skywalker action figures on a shelf, Ryion saw two men wearing the uniforms of the governor’s security entourage enter, followed by Shara. She had some kind of bundle under her arm and was attired simply in the typical tan sari worn by the Chalactans instead of the formal attire she’d worn the night before last, devoid of coverup and jewelry.

“Good morning, Lady Shara,” he said with a bow. “How can I help you?”

She signaled to the guards and they filed outside.

“My protective detail,” she explained. “A symbolic but pointless gesture by the governor.”

“I didn’t realize things were so dangerous around here,” Ryion lied. “I’m sure the governor is just looking out for your safety.”

She sighed.

“If someone out there wishes me harm, two guards will only slow them down.”

“I would hope that there’s nobody here who’d want to harm you,” Ryion responded.

“If this war has taught me anything, Matrik, it is that life is fragile,” Shara told him. “The lives of me and my people in particular.”

“I would hope that this invasion has taught the people of the galaxy that life is worth preserving,” Ryion answered earnestly. “You and your people included.”

“I would hope that the galaxy would not need an invasion to teach them that. But that is not what I came to you about. One of my nieces broke this last night—and it’s already become her favorite toy, even though you gave it to her a week ago. A maid suggested that I take it to you and see if it could be repaired.”

Shara withdrew the bundle from under her arm and unfolded the cloth to reveal a stuffed pittin with one leg nearly torn off, its stuffing falling out of the ripped seam.

“There’s some kind of odd stitching here, or I would have tried fixing it myself,” she explained. “I’m not sure how you sew that seam without stiffening the leg.”

Ryion looked closely at the torn leg.

“How old is your niece? That stitching helps the leg endure rough play, but that’s a pretty nasty tear.”

“She is eight,” Shara explained. “It probably got caught on something.”

“Hmm, well, I’ll take a look at it,” Ryion answered. “If you don’t mind leaving it here, can I bring it back this afternoon when I’m done mending it?”

“That would be fine,” Shara answered. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Ryion said humbly.

She bowed her head in a slight incline and left. Ryion looked at the damaged toy and sighed. He was going to have to look up how to do that kind of stitch and figure out a way to repair the stuffed pittin by this afternoon, which was not how he had envisioned spending his morning. Ryion placed the toy on his worktable in the back and had just returned to arranging the action figures when his comlink buzzed—the secure YGI one. He quickly flicked the sign on his door to “closed” and locked the building. Heading into his back inventory room, he saw it was Qedai and quickly activated the device.

“What is it?” Ryion asked.

“Morgedh and I found the guy who planted your listening device. We’ve been working on him all night, but his place was a veritable treasure trove of information. We took holos and left most of it alone to not tip off whoever’s he working for.”

“What did you learn?”

“There are Vong on Rishi, at least a dozen of them. The guy we nabbed is an agent of theirs, had a villip in his place. He also had maps with routes marked out on them. One of them goes right by your shop.”

“Details, Qedai,” Ryion pressed.

“Hard to say, it’s all written in some form of shorthand that Demtry here is just now opening up about. There’s a red Xesh about two blocks east from your place. It’s dated today, but there’s no telling what the mark means. There’s no time on it, either, just a drawing of a half of an outlined sun.”

“The half a sun means morning. It’s probably a local way of telling time approximately,” Ryion said. “I think I know what it is they’re up to.”

“What?”

“No time to explain,” Ryion told her as he strapped on his lightsaber and discblade. “Are you close?”

Ryion’s mind had raced rapidly to a dreadful conclusion. If the Yuuzhan Vong were on Chalacta on an intelligence-gathering mission, they might have an abduction or killing in mind to send a message to the viceroy or attempt to compel him to surrender. Or they might just be out for a gruesome trophy—and what better trophy to collect than the young daughter of the Chalactan viceroy?

“With these narrow streets, it’d take me at least half an hour to get to you. Too crowded.”

“Never mind then. Hopefully I’m wrong about all this and my imagination is running wild, but if not, use the fallback plan if you don’t hear from me in an hour.”

Before Qedai had a chance to reply, Ryion turned off the comlink before tucking it into his belt. Racing out the back door of his shop, he swiftly dashed along the alley that ran behind the storefronts on this street. He wished he had had time to grab his pistol, shield, glove, and armorvest, but at the moment, time was of the essence.

Ryion instead relied on the Force, allowing its power to suffuse him. He again wrapped himself in Force camouflage as he sprinted ahead. The Force told him of every sentient being within a kilometer and he was able to pick out Shara’s signature as well. He sensed no disturbances yet—good, he wasn’t too late. Ryion kept track of her, moving parallel and ahead of her progress down the street.

Suddenly, he spotted a narrow corridor with five beings lined up against its wall—human by the looks of them, but he could only sense one of them. They must be Yuuzhan Vong in disguise. Ryion quickly halted just before turning the corner—the human was keeping watch on the back of the alley and might notice the faint blur of the Force camouflage if he was particularly vigilant. Peering around the corner, Ryion could see another group of shadowy figures in the alley across the street, and again he could not sense them. His suspicions were confirmed—it was an ambush obviously aimed at Shara.

What could he do about it, though? She was coming this way and would be perfectly caught in between the two groups in less than a minute. His mission was to gather intelligence and appraise the threat while neutralizing any Yuuzhan Vong threats that he could discreetly. A brawl in the middle of a crowded street could hardly be called discreet. On the other hand, Ryion had seen too much of Yuuzhan Vong cruelty already. He could never forgive himself if he let them capture, torment, and possibly kill another defenseless person like Shara. He knew that those large round, dark brown eyes he’d looked into the night before would haunt him until the day he died if he stood by and did nothing. For that matter, he’d be lucky if Depa was willing to show him any more Vaapad, since the ghost had indicated that saving the Chalactans was an important condition of his tutelage.

Damn it Shara, when I said that the lives of you and your people were worth preserving, this is not what I had in mind, Ryion thought to himself. Then his decision was made and he banished all other thoughts from his mind, seeking serenity and discipline for what he was about to do. All emotion was stripped from his visage as he achieved clarity of purpose.

The Ryion Kraen that rounded the corner stealthily was emotionally a different person from a few seconds ago. This individual did not know indecision or inaction, nor was he concerned with the legitimacy of his actions. What he did know how to do was ply the deadly trade he had sought to master over the last several years of his young life.

Ryion slipped up next to their human sentry even as he sensed Shara approaching within ten meters of the intersection between the alleys and the street. Popping out suddenly from camouflage, his right hand shot upward to slam open-palmed into the throat of the man, destroying his larynx and ability to speak in a single punishing blow. His left hand was grasping a discblade in a somewhat weaker three-fingered grip that was all he could muster without his glove. Ryion nevertheless sliced upward with the discblade, its sharp edge slicing through the man’s torso vertically until one of the four prongs hooked upward under his sternum to pierce his heart. The man fell to the ground and died with a gurgle, blood pouring from a gaping wound.

Stepping over the corpse just as the backmost Yuuzhan Vong turned around with a startled expression on his face, Ryion glared at the alien with a merciless expression. Knowing of the strength of Yuuzhan Vong armor, Ryion hurled the discblade directly into the alien’s face. The weapon impacted with a sickening thud and buried itself into the warrior’s skull until only half the weapon was showing outside the gory mess of his face. The Yuuzhan Vong collapsed, twitching, but the others were already swiveling to face him.

“That’s right, come and get me,” Ryion challenged.

The warriors obliged, their ooglith masquer disguises peeling away to reveal three hideously mutilated and scarred Yuuzhan Vong wielding sinuous amphistaffs. One of them leaped forward with his amphistaff extending in a whip-like attack that would plant the venomous fangs of the amphistaff into him. Ryion batted aside the amphistaff with his left arm, heedless of the bruise he would earn from doing so, and stepped inside the warrior’s guide. Withdrawing his lightsaber, he rammed its emitter into the gap in the vonduun crab armor underneath the warrior’s arm and ignited it. The purple blade speared the warrior through the heart and the blade burned through the back of his throat, visible in his open mouth as he gasped in agony. Ryion swept the blade out in time to deflect the counter-strike from the amphistaff, separating himself from the dying warrior.

“Jeedai!” one of the two left facing him hissed.

“No,” Ryion answered coldly as he swept the blade up in a formal salute. “I’m not a Jedi. I’m much worse.”

Without hesitation, he waded into their midst, trading two strokes of his violet blade for every amphistaff blow they launched. What he could not match in power or dexterity, he made up for in speed and precision, wounding them both within the first six attacks. Ducking under a blow, he kicked out with Force-enhanced strength, but force that would have sent a normal sentient flying back a dozen meters barely staggered the warrior. Cursing, Ryion recovered and slashed down at the warrior’s ankles, only to be caught by a swift backhanded blow that smashed his head into the alley wall. Stars burst in his vision, but he reflexively ducked under the follow-up amphistaff blow, slashing away at the warrior’s arm. The lightsaber failed to cut cleanly through the vonduun crab armor, but left a deep score that Ryion was sure had at least burned through it partially. The Force filled him, kept him fighting despite the pounding in his head, but suddenly he sensed that Shara was still near. She obviously hadn’t heard the sounds of battle. Looking past the warriors he was fighting, Ryion saw that the Yuuzhan Vong in the alley on the other side of the street were rushing out, obviously chasing Shara. He was out of time and could not afford to be distracted by these two anymore, even though he could have defeated them if given the time.

Slicing upward, Ryion severed the tips of one Yuuzhan Vong’s fingers even as the tip of an amphistaff slashed him across the thigh. Whirling around, he deflected another amphistaff attack one-handed and jabbed his left hand into the other Yuuzhan Vong warrior’s eyes in a vicious poking technique. He felt his fingers hit something squishy and the alien howl of pain told him he’d successfully blinded the warrior, if only temporarily.

Rather than finishing him off, Ryion raced out into the street to see a Yuuzhan Vong bodily hurl one of the security guards into the wall, eliciting a crack and bending the man’s head at an impossible angle indicating that his neck was broken. The other security guard was down in a bloody pile, while one of the Yuuzhan Vong had seized a terrified Shara. His clawed grip had drawn blood on her arm and Ryion was filled with anger at seeing the casual murders of the guards and the attempted abduction of the Chalactan woman. The lightsaber fell from his hands as he opted for a different approach.

The Force flowed through him more voraciously than before, burning through his veins with raw power. Sparks began collecting in his palms as he struggled to contain the anger within him until he was ready to release it.

“Release her!” Ryion bellowed, just to catch their attention and forestall any more harming of Shara.

They turned around as Ryion extended both his hands towards the four warriors of the other group. His eyes were glowing with pure power and now he unleashed his anger in the form of Force lightning, searing them with bolts of energy conjured from his fingertips. Ryion channeled the Force into the lightning, sending green forks of lighting out to consume three of the warriors for at least five seconds, not wanting to accidentally hit Shara. They writhed and flailed as their nervous systems were overloaded, helpless against his raw output.

“Stop! Or I kill her, Jeedai!” the remaining warrior shouted, holding a coufee knife to her slender throat.

The words brought Ryion back to reality and he allowed the lightning to subside as he stared down the Yuuzhan Vong and his helpless hostage. The warriors stricken by lightning sank to the ground, dead or severely burned.

“Let her go and you can walk away from here,” Ryion told the warrior.

The Yuuzhan Vong grimaced evilly at him.

“I will walk away from here with this infidel weakling with me for her own punishment, after I’ve licked your blood from its corpse.”

“Where’s your army, then?” Ryion asked him, kicking at the ground. “Because you certainly aren’t going to kill me on your own. Just like the rest of the Yuuzhan Vong, you need somebody else to do your dirty work for you.”

The warrior’s eyes bulged with rage as he struggled against his need to keep his hostage and his desire to face Ryion in single combat and avenge the insults.

“Too late,” Ryion told him. “You lose.”

Ryion flicked his fingers and his lightsaber, which he had concealed with Force camouflage and kicked to rest underneath the Yuuzhan Vong, shot upward. The brilliant purple blade activated and stabbed upward underneath his skirt plates, angling backward to sever his spine. The Yuuzhan Vong convulsed as he was impaled and Ryion used telekinesis to shove Shara out of the warrior’s grasp, figuring she would forgive him later.

Suddenly, he heard an alien roar behind him. Defenseless, he swiveled around to see the Yuuzhan Vong warrior he had severed several fingers from earlier charging him with a coufee held one-handed. Without the Force to detect his approach, Ryion was caught off guard, as sorting out the various sources of danger had been impossible while focused on saving Shara. Ryion tried to twist out of the way, but the warrior was too close. The blade hit him low, just inside above his hip joint and slid upward into his body from there, knifing through tissue and muscle to pierce his stomach. Only by twisting to the side had he avoided being filleted in a single stroke.

Ryion gasped in pain as the coufee entered his body, but the Force still empowered him despite the grievous wound. Unarmed, he was all but defenseless and both his lightsaber and discblade were beyond his reach. Ryion blinked back the colossal explosion of agony blossoming in his torso and spun the warrior around even as the Yuuzhan Vong prepared to stab him again. His motion allowed him to catch sight of one of the security guard’s blasters and summon it to his left hand with the Force.

“I’m going to spill your infidel guts, Jeedai,” the warrior snarled as he drew the coufee back to eviscerate him.

“Like you hell you are,” Ryion wheezed, planting the muzzle of the blaster under the warrior’s chin and holding the trigger down while closing his eyes.

Nothing happened though and Ryion cursed as he realized that the safety was still on.

“You fool,” the warrior hissed, stabbing him with the coufee again.

Another spear of agony drove through Ryion, but his left hand snapped down to push against the warrior’s hand, so the blade stabbed his leg instead of his torso. The sharp, barbed point of the blade tore through his flesh and Ryion could feel blood pouring from both wounds. His vision nearly turned completely red, but the Force kept him fighting a little longer even as his body began to fail.

“True warriors go for the kill,” Ryion bit out, flicking off the safety on the blaster and shooting the warrior directly in the eye.

The Yuuzhan Vong fell backward with a gurgle but before Ryion could appraise his own condition, another alien roar sounded behind him. The last warrior, the one he had blinded, had managed to clear his blurry vision enough to find him and attack. Ryion spun around, yanking the coufee out of his own midsection and slashing out viciously. His Force-guided stroke hit the warrior’s weakened arm armor, severing the limb in a spray of black blood. The warrior howled and knocked him over to hit the ground face first. Ryion started to roll over to deflect an incoming assault when a blast of searing heat slammed into his back. He was engulfed in flames as the Yuuzhan Vong unleashed some kind of biological flamethrower on him. The fire immediately burned through his tunic and ignited his skin, blistering and scorching it. Ryion writhed, but managed to roll away from the stream of fire pouring onto his back. Still clutching the blaster, the Force guided his hand even he struggled to see more than a dark outline of the warrior against the pain consuming him. Ryion held the trigger down, no longer caring for finesse, just lethality. As darkness claimed him and the flames licked at his back, he at least was rewarded to see the warrior topple over, his head a charred mess.

For now at least, Shara was safe and given the nature of his wounds, Ryion figured he wouldn’t have to worry about the consequences of his borderline-dark side usage in the fight. He thought he felt something slapping at his burning skin, thought he heard voices calling to him faintly, but Ryion’s body had sustained too much punishment. Clutching at the bloody holes in his midsection, he blacked out.


 * Ord Pardron

Yiu Shac watched as the villip everted, taking on the shape of Tsaruuk’s head. “Have you left Ord Pardron yet?” he asked her.

“Not yet,” she said. “We are still searching for the Jeedai we encountered and interrogating the prisoners we took onboard our ship. Those tasks shall be complete soon—we are sure the Jeedai has not left the world and, injured as she is, cannot have gone far.”

“They are no longer as important,” Tsaruuk informed her. “Some of your other agents have reported to me that they have found the Chalactans we seek on a world called Rishi.”

“That is good,” Yiu Shac replied. “Then our catch here is a bonus.”

“Indeed,” Tsaruuk told her. “You have done well. I will send your shipmaster coordinates on where to meet the rest of the fleet.”

“Then we are not to pursue the injured Jeedai here?” Yiu Shac asked.

“Unless it is one of the leaders of the Jeedai, catching the refugees is our priority. There may be Jeedai there as well for you to hunt, my love.”

Suddenly, one of her subordinates came running up to her with another villip in hand. Yiu Shac scowled at his intrusion, but there was something frantic in his facial expression that told her something was seriously amiss.

“I beg your pardon, Great One,” she told Tsaruuk before turning to her subordinate. “What is it, fool? How dare you interrupt me?”

“Forgive my breach of protocol,” the warrior told her, the words spilling hurriedly from his tattered lips. “Our shipmaster in orbit reports infidel ships dropping out of hyperspace insystem. They are closing fast!”

“What?!” Yiu Shac exclaimed, looking at the new villip, which showed a representation of the shipmaster.

“At least twelve ships are closing on us,” the shipmaster told her. “We are outnumbered. At least two are of greater displacement than us, another three equal to our size.”

Yiu Shac slammed her fist down on her thigh.

“Withdraw and convey our prisoners back to Commander Tsaruuk,” the female warrior told him. “We will disperse on the ground until reinforcements can arrive.”

“I will dispatch the fleet to your position,” Tsaruuk told her.

“No, you should do your duty,” Yiu Shac insisted. “Your mission is to seize the refugees.”

“The presence of a fleet to investigate a target that is not militarily worth defending or investigating speaks of a greater mystery behind the camp you attacked. My navigators tell me it will take me five days to get to you and then another five from there to Rishi. The delay will be well worth it if we can trap and defeat this fleet—our agents on Rishi will keep watch over the Chalactans and ensure they do not flee. I will send a small force to Chalacta of sufficient strength to prevent any escape in force.”

Yiu Shac bowed subserviently.

“As you wish,” she answered demurely.

“Mistress,” interrupted the shipmaster. “The infidels are employing one of their foul abominations to interfere with the dovin basals—we cannot jump to darkspace! What are your orders?”

“Die bravely,” she told him, then stroked his villip to cause it to revert before turning back to Tsaruuk’s villip.

“Preserve as many of your forces as you can,” Tsaruuk told her. “We will come for you soon.”
 * In orbit

The Yanibar Guard Fleet dropped out of hyperdrive in rapid succession, twelve ships in all. Immediately, the Vigilant Refuge powered up its gravity well generator, preventing the Yuuzhan Vong frigate from fleeing to hyperspace. On orders from Selu, three squadrons of starfighters were launched to intercept it even as the remaining vessels formed an entrapment position around the frigate to prevent it from fleeing.

Jasika blasted out of the hangar bay of the Vigilant Refuge as the last member in Paladin Squadron. She was also the only member flying a Sabre II as the others had already transitioned to Maelstroms. “Paladin Twelve, you’re my wing,” Commander Mada told her. “Form on me.”

She clicked her comlink in acknowledgment as the squadron roared towards the frigate.

“Paladin Two here. Detecting coralskipper launches, the frigate is coming about.”

“One to squad, eliminate the coralskippers then disable the frigate’s weapon batteries. Make it fast, use missiles on the fighters, but be a little more precise on the frigate.”

Jasika glanced at her sensors, watching as the distance counter on the readout scrolled down rapidly. Soon, she could see the long ochre streaks of coralskipper plasma fire approaching the YGF formation. Her heart rate shot up as adrenaline pumped through her veins and she juked the long-range shots with a twitch on the control stick.

Paladin One broke to engage a pair of coralskippers and she followed suit, maintaining a tight formation so that their shields overlapped for added protection against Yuuzhan Vong weaponry. Jasika’s hand tightened on the stick as the two pairs of starfighters closed head-to-head. A solid lock tone told her she was in effective weapons range. Jasika lined up her reticule on the lead coralskipper and held down the trigger, firing a stream of purple laser blasts from her triple laser cannons. Paladin One opened up as well, firing in measured bursts of three shots. The coralskippers were confident in their ability to soak up damage coming at them from one direction and returned fire with heavy-hitting streams of molten rock. Jasika rolled to evade the barrage, still spraying streams of fire at the Yuuzhan Vong ships. Her ship shook and her audio pickups registered a glancing hit on her shields, but no other damage was inflicted. Then they roared past each other, looping around for another pass.

“Try for a missile lock, Twelve,” Paladin One told her.

“Copy,” Jasika said. “Try hosing down those skips, their dovin basals can block single shots indefinitely unless it’s a really big single shot.”

“I know, Twelve,” One told her. “Just testing out the new guns.”

He looped around in a tighter spiral than she could handle in her Sabre II thanks to the superior vector-plating but allowed her to catch up. This time, he split off, approaching the coralskippers from an angled position that gave them an advantageous firing angle at the expense of the shield overlap protection.

If this was Paladin Lead’s idea of a test, she wasn’t thrilled about it, especially since the coralskippers seemed intent on closing on her. They opened up with another volley of burning projectiles and she quickly yawed her fighter out of their path while returning fire with her lasers. The missile lock corona shone around one of the coralskippers and she thumbed the button on the side of her stick twice. Two missiles erupted from her underwing pods, arcing towards the coralskippers on cyan exhaust trails. As expected, defensive dovin basals materialized to soak up the projectiles harmlessly and even picked off her laser fire, but then three pairs of purple laser blasts, far larger than she was used to seeing from a starfighter, slammed into one of the coralskippers, shredding the rocky craft. The two bursts were followed up by a more typical series of linked laser blasts from Paladin One’s Maelstrom, which chewed into the second fighter but didn’t destroy it.

“What was that?” Jasika asked as she slewed her fighter around to follow the last coralskipper.

“Lasers on these have an overcharge mode, Twelve. You can fire off three strong bursts if you give up three seconds of firing time after,” Paladin One told her.

“Copy that,” Jasika said, as she and her wingman tacked onto the tail of the last coralskipper.

“He’s all yours, Twelve,” he told her, firing sprays of laser fire at the edge of the coralskipper to distract the dovin basal.

Jasika clicked her comlink and deliberately placed her reticule on the stern of the juking coralskipper, waiting for the solid corona of a clean missile lock. When it finally shone around the starfighter, she opened up with lasers, then fired the missile ahead of the coralskipper. The weapon sailed past the skip, whose dovin basal was still blocking laser fire, and then exploded in front of the Yuuzhan Vong coralskipper. The distracted pilot swapped his dovin basal forward to protect his starfighter from the explosion, making him easy prey for her lasers. Before the hostile pilot could react, her triple laser cannon blasts tore apart the hull, leaving it a charred derelict.

“Good shooting, Twelve,” Paladin One told her, even as he led her back to the frigate, as the rest of the squadron had already mopped up the remaining coralskippers.

Two other squadrons were already strafing it with ion and laser cannon streams, chewing away at its weapons and dovin basal clusters. Jasika joined in, juking from streams of plasma cannon fire. Her laser blasts chipped away at the hull, scoring gouges and blasting away at plasma cannons. In response, the ship tried to move away from the fighters harrying it, vectoring directly towards the Vigilant Refuge.

“Lead to Fleet, I think they figured out they aren’t getting away. They might know we’re after a capture—looks like a ramming attempt.”

“Copy that, we’re moving up the boarding team approach,” came the reply from their controller on the VR.

“Just be aware, not all the teeth are pulled,” One warned. “We’ll cover the shuttles as best as he can.”

Jasika and the other Paladins formed up around three bulky Discblade transports fitted with cutting attachments. The Yuuzhan Vong fire intensified as the frigate drove towards the carrier resolutely, heedless of the fact that over half its weapon emplacements were offline and its gross size differential with the nine-hundred meter carrier. Then the assault ships made contact with the frigate, clamping onto its hull with their boarding collars and searing through its hull with laser drills built into the collars. Once the ships had docked, Jasika and the other Paladins wheeled around and resumed their strafing of the dovin basal clusters, trying to limit the frigate’s maneuverability. Three squadrons’ worth of laser fire soon whittled away at the living creatures, leaving the ship all but drifting. It had been a clean skirmish for the Yanibar Guard Fleet, and while some of their starfighters had been damaged, no casualties had been sustained thanks to careful flying and overwhelming force.

“Break off Paladins,” One ordered. “Stand back until we’re needed.”

Jasika did as ordered, watching the frigate from her cockpit at a safe distance. Ten minutes later, a voice crackled over fleet frequency.

“Master Kraen here, we have secured the bridge.”

“Cresh Lead reports prisoner area secure,” followed Bryndar’s voice a minute later, causing Jasika’s heart to skip a beat.

While she had known cerebrally that her husband would likely be in the assault wave, hearing his voice confirm it left a much more emotional impression on her. He had been engaging in hand-to-hand combat through an alien spaceship filled with angry Yuuzhan Vong warriors—just the thought gave her chills.

“Paladins, we have new orders,” One told them. “We’re going groundside to help look for a VIP. Her code name is Kirrek Dove. We’ll do a grid search near the specified coordinates, but stay sharp. We don’t know what kinds of surprises the Vong have dirtside—they might even have more coralskippers.”

Paladin Squadron roared into the atmosphere, tracing a course over the plains of Ord Pardron to the Open Hands refugee camp. As they approached the camp, Paladin One began transmitting.

“Kirrek Dove, this is Big Bird. Please respond.”

Jasika rolled her eyes at the ridiculousness of the call signs YGF had adopted, but there was nothing she could do but keep an eye on her sensor screen as her Sabre II roared over the ground at an altitude of about a kilometer. Paladin One led them in a search pattern for about ten minutes that saw the squadron soar over a forest, past a small silvery river, then back around a wide expanse of plains dotted here and there by scrub brush. The planet seemed peaceful, aside from the ruins of a refugee camp that marred the otherwise natural landscape. There was no sign of life at the camp and the trees were content to sway gently in the wind, with no Yuuzhan Vong craft or weaponry launching from underneath their boughs.

Then she spotted the glint of metal as something artificial rose into the sky. A sensor contact appeared on her screen, describing what appeared to be some kind of small skiff.

“Lead, Twelve. I have contact at oh-six-seven, mark two.”

“Roger that, Twelve. Kirrek Dove, is that you?”

“Yes,” a weak female voice said. “This is Kirrek Dove. I’m okay.”

“My orders are to escort you up to orbit to a friendly nest,” Paladin One told her. “Can you make space?”

“Yes, we can,” the woman replied and Jasika realized with a shudder that it was Cassi’s voice she was hearing through the comlink. “We’ll follow you up.”

“Glad to hear your wings aren’t broken, Kirrek Dove,” Paladin One said with a chuckle. “Big Bird Out.”

The dozen starfighters and the small ship they were encircling rose into the azure blue of the sky, leaving behind the abandoned ruins of the refugee camp for the solace of space and the waiting Yanibar Guard Fleet ships.

13
Ariada walked out of the hateful white corridor and was admitted into the counseling area, where Trillvillai was waiting. The two guards took up their positions behind her as she walked forward. The last three times she’d been her, Trillvillai had allowed her to simply enjoy the sparkleflower blossoms, but she suspected that he wouldn’t be so passive this time. Now that he had enthralled her with beauty, he would show her the beauty of the light side. She was content with that, as she had her own ideas on the content of her latest counseling session, ideas which would hopefully make the mineral deficiency she’d been enduring worth the suffering.

“I’m surprised you’re not bored with this exercise yet,” she told him.

The Quermian cocked his head inquisitively at her.

“Why would I be?”

“Don’t you have family? A life of your own? Anywhere else you would rather be than here in the most desolate place on Yanibar?”

“My family understands the sacrifices I have made to be here,” Trillvillai told him. “To serve and to help those in such great need is a noble thing.”

“I’m sure it is,” Ariada said insincerely. “We should talk, Trillvillai.”

“Isn’t that what we are doing now?”

“But this time, I promise I’ll be sincere. Open, even.”

Trillvillai gave her a guarded look, then indicated her usual bench. She sat and looked at him directly.

“Let me go, Trillvillai,” she said. “I have never meant any harm to Yanibar, but I cannot be contained here with so much suffering in the galaxy. Like you said, to serve and help those in great need is a noble thing.”

“That cannot happen, Ariada,” Trillvillai told her. “Your heart is not yet ready to be cured. The path you still long for will only lead to sorrow, both for you and those you love.”

“Then I must return your sparkleflower blossoms to you,” Ariada told him. “They are beautiful, but they are distractions. Maybe you can find more use for them.”

She lifted a hand and a stream of the delicate flowers, dried by now and brittle, floated telekinetically over to him.

“I am sorry you see them as such,” Trillvillai said, sweeping them off the table with his hand, not realizing what he had just exposed himself to. Guided by a subtle telekinetic display from Ariada, they swept into the fountain.

As soon as he did so, the water began to spark and steam. Trillvillai looked concernedly at it for a split second, then back at Ariada, but it was too late.

The split-second distraction had been enough for Ariada. Lunging feet-forward over the table, she kicked him with all her Force-enhanced strength, using powers she was not supposed to have practiced in the last eight weeks. He tumbled backward as she dashed forward and struck him on his head with enough force to render him unconscious. Even as the two guards reacted, Ariada threw a powerful Force wave backwards, slamming them both into the wall to knock them out as well. She started to focus on telekinetically wresting the bench from its anchors when a blast of Force power hit her, knocking her to the ground and driving the air from her lungs.

Amazingly, Trillvillai was struggling to his feet, hand outstretched. A siren and alarm began to wail, indicating that her time was running out.

“You won’t stop me,” Ariada warned Trillvillai.

Extending a hand of her own, she fired a bolt of Force lightning at the Quermian, disrupting his concentration as he diverted his powers to partially deflect the energy consuming him. While the Jal Shey Mentor was a masterful Force-user, he was not prepared to have Ariada leap toward him and physically tackle him to the ground. Remembering her lessons on Quermian anatomy, she directed an open-palmed blow to his temple, with another following up into his chest cavity where his other brain was. His eyes flickered as he struggled to remain conscious and Ariada struck him again.

“Why? . . . how?” he wheezed.

“By the time you figure it out, I’ll be long gone,” Ariada told him coldly, jabbing him in the chest one last time until his eyes rolled up into the back of his head.

She checked his pulse. He was out cold, likely with some trauma to his cerebral tissue. She regretted the damage, but he would survive and recover without too much permanent effect. Now it was time for her to survive and recover her dreams. Calling on the Force and empowering it with her anger, she channeled a fork of Force lightning into the door lock, sealing herself shut for a few more seconds. It would not take security long to blast through the door.

Ariada quickly stripped the guards and Trillvillai of their outer garments, layering them over herself. Then she aimed one fist at the roof and opened it, releasing a massive wave of Force energy. The sturdily-built transparisteel resisted at first, cracking and squealing as she pushed it beyond its bending strength. Then finally, it blew into a thousand shards as she leaped out of the gaping hole and into the vast frozen wasteland outside, leaving the wailing sirens behind.

Shrouding herself in Force camouflage and hiding her presence in the Force, Ariada had bought herself some time. While there were several Force-users at Haxares who could sense her through the technique, she had just incapacitated one of them and the others would likely be racing to secure the area around the counseling room while she took an unconventional direction, racing off over the frozen wasteland as fast as possible.

From a logical standpoint, it was the worst possible course of action. She would be alone, without means to survive in the bitter subzero cold. Her sandals would not stave off frostbite for more than an hour and too much use of the Force to keep her body temperature up would reveal her presence to those hunting her. She would either be found, or would freeze to death.

Of course, Ariada knew all those facts. She also knew that the guardians of Haxares were still dealing with the shattering of their illusion of impregnability. She knew each of their personnel files and so possessed the understanding that none of them matched her in terms of devilish cunning except perhaps Trillvillai and not even he had anticipated her actions, nor the depth of her planning.

As soon as she had contemplated stealing the data, Ariada had also formulated contingency plans if she was caught. She had anticipated being sent to Haxares. Her escape plan had been ready before she even arrived. A little research into the classified personnel files revealed that Trillvillai was the lead counselor and most likely to take her case. His file also revealed that he was a gardener, with a collection of sparkleflower blossoms. That information in hand, Ariada had used her combination of biology talent and savvy with her Force powers to derive a powerful nerve agent from the organic compounds. She’d practiced a few times before attempting to slice the secure data center until comfortable with the technique and inoculated herself with enough of the counter-agent to keep her immune for a year. It hadn’t taken much but a simple suggestion to lure Trillvillai to providing her with the means to facilitate her escape, combined with her research on how to defeat a Quermian in unarmed combat. What a fool.

Her first move had been to blow some sedative vapor from her hands into the air duct in her cell, paralyzing the ysalamiri and allowing her to use the Force in the final hours in her cell. By hiding herself in the Force, she had escaped detection from being sensed. Nobody had bothered to send a Force-user to check on the status of the ysalamiri bubble, and the creatures were sessile to the point where paralysis would not register on their bio-monitors. Ysalamiri were also expensive to maintain and while Ariada knew they had spares, the creatures were not doubly-layered, so knocking out one gave her a gap to work with—another fact gleaned from research. Haxares’ strength had been in its secrecy and the fact that nobody knew how its defenses and confinement systems worked. Once the information was in her possession, her training and cunning had quickly pinpointed weaknesses to exploit.

She had had Force-access in her cell for the last two weeks and had been able to discreetly sense what Force-users were in system. Her moment had finally come when she sensed that Selu, Morgedh, Milya, Ryion, Qedai, and Zeyn were all offworld. It had been an enormous stroke of luck, to have all the most capable Force-users gone, and she was not about to let it go to waste.

The last three days, she had been extracting sodium and potassium ions from her food and bodily secretions. That had not been enough, so she had been forced to leach supplies of both minerals from her body, leaving her dangerously nutrient-starved but with a substantial supply of ions to work with. Carefully extracting electrons from static electricity, she had fused the electrons and ions together with tiny jolts of Force-lightning until she had volatile tiny slivers of sodium and potassium metal. Camouflaging just her fingertips and the air around them for her miniature chemical reaction from the holocrons had been difficult, but she had managed to do it—another skill she had practiced beforehand. Upon obtaining the precious metal particles, she’d soaked them in skin and hair oil gleaned from her glands to keep them from igniting on contact with the air, but tossing them into water had been sufficient to elicit the desired chemical reaction of steam and fire to distract Trillvillai.

The sedative had also been applied to the sparkleflower blossoms and since the olfactory organs of Quermians were on their hands, Trillvillai had absorbed a dose of the odorless compound without realizing it simply by touching the blossoms.

Now it was time for her coup de grace, Ariada figured as she kept running. She was burning energy at a prodigious rate with physical exertion and maintaining Force camouflage, her cells having difficulty functioning with their sodium-potassium levels so crucial to proper energy expenditure so heavily depleted. Gasping for breath and shivering with cold, she finally slowed down after ten and a half kilometers of running from Haxares, a full half-kilometer outside the installation’s sensor ranges and after looping around the entire facility from where she’d started. Twice she had seen speeders fly in the distance overhead, but they hadn’t detected her, nor would they without a powerful Force-user onboard, and at relatively close range. The ground was too frozen to leave footprints and her flat, flimsy slippers with their bare minimum of tread had been traded for the guards’ boots which allowed her to run without leaving bloody footprints on the ice.

Freezing, weakened, exhausted, Ariada should have collapsed on the frozen steppes to die a chilled death or be discovered and shipped back to Haxares. But by all rights, she should have never escaped in the first place. The Force guided her to something she had stashed eleven weeks ago, the week before her arrest. On the surface it looked like the twenty-five-year-old derelict of a Valkyrie starbomber that had crashed there during the Battle of Yanibar, fought before she was born. The Yanibar Guard had exhumed the pilot’s remains, tossed a plasma charge into the cockpit, and sprayed the bomber’s skin with acid to make sure its stealth technology wasn’t stolen, as extracting the wreckage hadn’t been deemed cost-effective at a time when the force was rebuilding from significant losses incurred in the battle.

Eleven weeks ago, Ariada had used her personal freighter to replace the wreckage while ostensibly on a mission to practice a day of polar survival training alone. She had replaced the wreck with an old retired starbomber she had rescued from an automated scrap heap, requisitioning it as a personal craft, and disguised it appropriately after making sure to restore its systems and load fresh ordnance into it. It had been a simple matter to toss the old hulk into deep space. Ariada had needed a lot of subtle maneuvering to slip it past Ryion, but she had managed to do it while he and Zeyn were out training after promising to check in every four hours. Since their team had been on leave, she hadn’t been tracked closely and nobody had been the wiser over the starbomber swap. A clever disguise of her new vehicle made the two ships look the same from orbit and she had ensured that the area was not under direct surveillance when she did the swap. A sensor scan would show no anomaly unless it was a very detailed scan.

It had been an astonishing amount of slicing and anticipation, but while Ariada had not intended to get caught, she knew there was a high probability it would happen. As she reached the ship, guided by sensing the lightsaber she had planted inside, she smiled for the first time since her escape.

The canopy eased open without incident and she slid inside, sealing it. The Yanibar Guard might not know about her swap, but they would definitely check here within the hour anyway, possibly by airspeeder, which could reveal her deception. Ariada rummaged around in the stockpile of supplies she had left there, sucking on a high-glucose nutrient tube to replenish her energy and pulling on an insulated jacket. Then, she began warming up the craft, powering up its engines. At first, the craft was sluggish, but finally the appropriate readouts showed a comforting green and the repulsorlifts powered up, freeing the starbomber from its icy grave.

Within minutes, the ship was airborne and soaring into the sky. A pair of airspeeders detected her and tried to close the gap, but she was too high and too fast for them to get anywhere near her. Her long-range sensors soon detected a full squadron of starfighters vectoring towards her from the ground, while another two squadrons approached from ships in orbit. However, Ariada reached space before they could catch sight of her and killed her engines. The hard-to-detect Valkryie with its passive sensor-scrambling technology would be almost impossible to detect outside of very close range. She waited and watched patiently as the fighters tried to close in on her ion trail, but while the Valkyrie had been old, it had been refitted with newer-model engines whose trail was too faint for starfighter sensors to detect.

Ariada watched as a Makashi-class frigate and several reconnaissance probes were added to the search while her starbomber kept drifting. Other warships began closing as well, along with another three squadrons of fighters. The Yanibar Guard was not taking any chances with her, apparently. The fighters split up and began searching in a grid for her, a method that would eventually work. Finally, she judged that the time was right.

Arming one of the two Nighthawk missiles in her ordnance bays, she jettisoned the weapon, shrouding it in the Force just as she shrouded her own ship in Force camouflage. The stealthy cruise missile slid away from her fighter into the depths of space, propelled by momentum. After five minutes, the missile fired microthruster pulses to orient itself away from her and then activated, heading towards the frigate. The warship’s anti-missile batteries immediately activated, blasting away at it, but the latest-model Nighthawks were programmed with evasive courses and high-powered booster engines to make defense difficult. The missile impacted on the warship’s shields, doing almost no damage, but providing a suitable distraction as the starfighters and other ships abandoned their search patterns to track down the missile’s flight path, which she was already clear of.

“Valiantly done, but lacking in creativity,” Ariada remarked, powering up engines and flying off in the opposite direction, aiming to get clear to jump to hyperspace.

The YGF detected her and immediately vectored every available craft towards her, but she had too much of a head start. Valkyries were slow, but she had enough separation that even the speedy new Whirlwind interceptors, the fastest starfighters in the Yanibar Guard arsenal, wouldn’t be able to get more than a few seconds of weapons range before she escaped, much less the big ships with their tractor beams. Nevertheless, she gave the pilots credit for trying as a formation of a dozen Whirlwinds came rocketing towards her, their triple over-sized engines accelerating them at full power.

“Surrender, Elite Cerulaen,” a male voice instructed her on an open frequency, emanating from one of the interceptors. “You are in clear violation of Yanibar Guard regulations.”

Ariada looked at her sensors and saw that she was clear, that he wouldn’t get a chance to stop her from jumping to hyperspace, so she decided to indulge herself a little.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” she said. “And you’re way behind. I lost my rank months ago for violating a different handful of regulations.”

“Shut down your engines and surrender, or I will be forced to fire,” the voice insisted.

“Surrender? In my moment of triumph? I think you overestimate your chances,” Ariada mocked him even as her sensors lit up with a warning telling her that someone was painting her with targeting sensors.

“This is my last warning,” he told her.

The cockpit wailed at her as the pilot established a missile lock on her ship; a long-range one, but definitely a lock. Red warning lights flashed at her, but she ignored them. Instead, she kept her eyes fixed on her navicomputer as it beeped, indicating that it had a course plotted, a small jump that would take her well out of the system, beyond the limits of the Yanibar Guard sensor net—another defensive system she had taken great care to research. All she had to do was activate the hyperdrive and she was clear.

“Just remember, pilot, that no matter what you do, your career will always be haunted by your inability to catch me. You, in a brand new ship designed for this job, utterly failed to stop a relatively inexperienced pilot in an older ship who outsmarted you. I hope you think about that when you’re trying to sleep at night. Do your worst.”

As expected, he fired off a pair of missiles which homed in on her ship, homing in for a sure kill on a slow, ungainly bomber. Ariada smiled triumphantly and pulled the hyperspace lever. Her ship elongated and then shot into hyperspace with a flicker of pseudomotion, leaving the missiles and the hapless pilot behind. She was free from Yanibar.

Where would she go next? Her supplies were limited and her network of contacts even more limited. The Yanibar Guard would almost certainly pursue her—for no other reason than she knew too much and had too much power to be allowed to roam free. Psykith had told her to seek out a Thisspiassian if she wanted to be able to stop the Yuuzhan Vong. Having thoroughly alienated herself from her former life on Yanibar, going to Thisspias to seek him out seemed as good a place as any. Besides, she had one more secret that the Yanibar Guard didn’t know. Injected into a mole on her arm was a strand of specially-modified DNA from a sparkleblossom flower, DNA which she had genetically modified to contain a codified version of all of Psykith’s files using the genetic sequencer she had taken with her during her infiltration of the data center.

Ariada Cerulaen was utterly alone and friendless, but she was not without her resources and she had just escaped one of the most secure locations on Yanibar completely on her own. The Yanibar Guard had paid the price for underestimating her.


 * Ord Pardron

Selu and Milya made their way to one of the two docking bays on the Vigilant Refuge via the lengthy corridors that ran from the ship’s aft bridge and then up its spine to the hangar decks. Crewmembers made way for them, saluting the two once they noticed their ranks, but Selu and Milya returned the salutes hurriedly and without precision, focused on reaching Cassi. They reached the long, cacophonous expanse that was the port topside hangar deck just in time. Striding quickly down past a row of B-wing starfighters being readied for quick takeoff, they soon found the vessel they were looking for was already in its landing sequence

Mithunir’s ship eased its way through the cavernous docking bay of the Vigilant Refuge and settled down on its landing skids on a spot indicated by a series of colored lights marking the perimeter of the landing area. The engines whined as they powered down while the thrusters outgassed small plumes from their vents. Soon enough, the boarding ramp lowered, creaking as its actuators extended. A squad of Yanibar Guard marines stood by in case of trouble, but they were an unnecessary precaution. A medical team also stood by with a hoverstretcher, having been warned of casualties onboard.

Mithunir slowly made his way down the ramp, helping Cassi along by allowing her to sling one of her arms around his neck for support. She looked haggard and weak, but she was at least walking. J7 floated weakly along behind them. Selu quickly waved away the marines.

“All clear, no danger,” he said.

The medical team adroitly met Cassi at the foot of the boarding ramp, helping her onto a hover stretcher.

“I’m all right,” she insisted. “Just sore and tired.”

“We know,” Milya reassured her. “We’re just being careful. You gave us quite a scare.”

“Did you rescue all the prisoners?” Cassi asked.

“We saved seventeen of the thirty Open Hands personnel from the Yuuzhan Vong frigate,” Milya told her. “We recovered five bodies from the ship and our forces on the ground have located another six. The other two are unaccounted for. I’m sorry, Cassi. Do you want to know their names?”

Cassi shook her head, blinking away tears.

“Tell me later, when I can grieve them properly,” she said. “I don’t think I can handle it right now.”

“I understand,” Milya said diplomatically. “I suppose it’d be best to let the medics check you out, then you can rest.”

Cassi nodded.

“I think that would be best.”

Meanwhile, Selu had turned his attention to Mithunir.

“I understand you helped save Cassi from a Yuuzhan Vong attack,” he said, offering his hand. “I’m Selusda Kraen.”

“I am called Mithunir,” the man replied, taking Selu’s proffered hand in a brief, firm handshake.

“We’re indebted to you, Mithunir,” Selu told him. “If there’s anything we can help with, let us know and we’ll see what we can do. Cassi said you were a leader of a Force-using group. There’s always room at our refuge for servants of the light side if your people are endangered by the war.”

Mithunir smiled at him.

“Thank you, but I do not need your possessions or your offer or refuge, nor do my people, Selusda Kraen,” he said. “We have always lived simply. What I would desire is your help, for together we may be able to discover something greater than all that you would offer me.”

“We’re listening,” Selu said neutrally.

“Your refuge’s days are numbered,” Mithunir warned him. “I have seen it in my visions and so has your friend Cassi Trealus. Darkness and ruin are coming.”

Selu and Milya exchanged sidelong looks, but said nothing, allowing him to continue.

“But there is still hope!” Mithunir insisted. “In the legends and histories of my people, the Shapers of Kro Var, there is a story passed down through the generations from antiquity of a planet called Atlaradis.”

“What about it?” Milya asked, humoring the man for the sake of what he’d done for Cassi.

“It is a hidden planet, said only to be accessible in times of great trial. It is said that when all hope seems lost, the Force itself opens the path to reach Atlaradis for those who can follow its path.”

He paused, an enraptured expression spreading across his face.

“It is a wondrous place, a world green and lush, peaceful and in harmony, isolated from the woes of the galaxy. The Force is more than just alive there; it is rich and permeates the very air you breathe.”

“Have you ever been there?” Selu asked him.

“In my visions, I have seen it many times,” Mithunir informed him. “But I have not found clues on how to reach until recently.”

“And you need our help with those clues?” Milya asked.

“The Force led me to Cassi Trealus. It told me that she can help me find Atlaradis, and it shall be a place of solace for both of our peoples.”

“Assuming that you found it and assuming we would want to relocate to there,” Selu interjected.

“Oh, you will, Selusda Kraen,” Mithunir reassured him. “I do not wish it so, but if my visions come to pass, Atlaradis will be a solace for you against the sorrows that this galaxy will heap upon you.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Selu told him. “We’re willing to provide you with a reasonable amount of resources to aid in your search if you wish them, and you’re free to stay onboard the Vigilant Refuge until we clear the system.”

Mithunir shook his head sadly at Selu.

“I pity you for your doubt,” he said. “Because it will only make acceptance that much harder.”

With that, the strange man turned and walked back up the ramp into his ship.

“Well that was interesting,” Milya remarked dryly.

“Ordinarily I’d dismiss him as a crazy Force-hermit,” Selu said. “But the fact that I’m even talking about not doing so automatically gives me a bad feeling about this.”

Selu knelt down by J7, who had fallen to the ground after once-again exhausting his repulsorlifts in getting off the ship.

“You did well, J7,” Selu told the droid earnestly. “You kept Cassi safe. That is the third time a member of my family has been saved by you.”

“I was merely fulfilling my programming, Master Kraen. All in the line of duty,” J7 replied. “But I thank you for your gratitude.”

“It won’t go unrewarded,” Selu promised. “And that starts with a first-class repair job. I’ll have the mechanics here do the best they can until we can get you back to Sarth for some quality time in the shop.”

The droid bowed his head slightly gratefully.

“Thank you again, Master.”

Selu patted J7’s metal shoulder.

“You’re a good and faithful friend, J7. We’re going to take care of you.”

Six hours later, Milya met Cassi in the carrier’s medical bay. To her relief, Cassi was looking much better, no longer pale and wan. She was sitting up on the sickbed, her eyes closed in meditation when Milya first walked in. As Milya approached, Cassi opened her eyes and faced her.

“How are you feeling?” Milya asked her.

“Better than expected,” Cassi answered, cheerily enough. “The Force has helped me heal and begin to find peace over the losses down there, though I don’t think I could visit the camp again.”

“I’m sorry that all this happened,” Milya told her, unwilling to remind Cassi that she could have had Yanibar Guard protection if she had agreed to collaborate with YGI.

“It is what it is,” Cassi reflected. “While the grieving process is slow, the best thing I can do is move forward.”

“I’ll be with you every step of the way if you want me to be,” Milya told her, squeezing her hand tightly. “Just like you’ve been there for me all those years.”

It was the closest Milya Tayrce Kraen ever came to showing affection to her friends and Cassi knew how much the gesture meant coming from the normally dispassionate intelligence chief.

“Thanks,” she said. “I should be thinking about how many lives were lost down there—and I do to some extent—but I also wonder if Mithunir is right.”

Milya’s eyebrow arched.

“Do you think he is?”

“I don’t know, Milya. He seems utterly sincere as well as convinced. I sense no deception or delusion in him and he does have impressive foresight. He more or less predicted the attack on the camp without deliberately saying so.”

“Don’t you think he should have done so if he knew it was going to happen?”

“If I were him, I would have, but he did advise me to evacuate. He has an agenda to enlist my aid for his search, that’s for sure, and I think he knew tipping me off from an attack meant that he’d likely never speak with me again.”

“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that,” Milya said cautiously. “He allowed an attack to happen just to prolong his search.”

Cassi shrugged.

“I thought that too, but there was nothing we could have done for the refugees anyway and I think he knew that. The Yuuzhan Vong attacked six hours later—we wouldn’t have managed to have more than a handful in the few ships we did have in that time. If word had gotten out, there would have been a mass panic.”

“He mentioned that you had seen visions of Yanibar being destroyed. Is that true?”

“It is. Frighteningly true, in fact.”

“And do you think his planet exists? Or that you can help find it?”

“I’m not sure. . .” Cassi said. “A part of me wants to find out, but there is no way I’d go alone with a powerful Force-user I barely know to wander the galaxy for who knows how long. I’m not that naïve.”

“Are you serious about that?” Milya asked. “About the idea that there might be something to his claims?”

Cassi hesitated, then nodded slowly.

“I am,” she admitted. “I can’t be sure, but Mithunir has already proven that he has skill with the Force and he saved my life, plus it just. . . feels right. Never mind that, though. Like I said, there’s no way I’d go wandering the galaxy alone with him, regardless of how true I think his visions might be.”

Milya paused for a moment, considering her next words carefully.

“What if you weren’t alone?” she said.

“What do you mean?” Cassi inquired.

Milya took a deep breath.

“I said I’d be there for you every step of the way and I’m willing to go with you and this Mithunir. I have my own talents in foresight and I know how to take care of myself—he won’t get the drop on me or try anything sneaky on my watch. Jorge and Annita might be interested as well—we can take another ship instead of his tiny skiff and have a real expedition.”

“Are you serious?” Cassi asked incredulously. “I mean, we’re at war. You have your duties.”

“Look,” Milya said. “I don’t put a whole lot of stake in Mithunir’s claims right now, but if you think they’re worth looking into, then I’m willing to investigate them. We do owe him and if that means we take him along on a little sightseeing tour of the galaxy for a bit, I’ll do it.”

“Thank you, Milya,” Cassi told her sincerely. “I. . . I don’t know what to say.”

“Say what you want to do,” Milya instructed her. “Are we checking out the old guy’s story and wandering the galaxy for a bit? Or are we going home? You let me know.”

“I need to talk this over with Sarth,” Cassi said. “But my inclination is to go.”

Milya nodded.

“I figured you’d say that. I’ll get a transmission to Sarth routed in here soon so you can discuss it with him and give Jorge and Annita a call.”

Cassi squeezed Milya’s hand back.

“Thanks again,” she said.

“Hey,” Milya answered with a casual smile. “What are friends for?”

She left the sickbay briskly, though a few minutes later; a communications droid wheeled in and rolled over to her bedside.

“Transmission established to Sarth Kraen on Yanibar,” it announced in a flat, synthesized voice. “Accept?”

“Yes,” Cassi told the droid.

The droid extended a holoprojector from its body and a quarter-size hologram of Sarth shimmered into existence.

“Cassi, what happened?” Sarth asked worriedly. “Selu and Milya didn’t tell me you were in danger or I would have come!”

“I’m all right,” Cassi reassured him. “And there wasn’t much you could have done anyway. Everything’s fine now, mostly.”

She quickly recapped her harrowing experiences with the Yuuzhan Vong attack, hiding in the forest, and her subsequent rescue by the Yanibar Guard.

“Well, I’m glad you’re safe,” Sarth said when she finished. “When are you coming home?”

“That’s what I need to talk to you about,” Cassi said. “The man that rescued me, Mithunir, came to me because he’d been having Force-visions where I help him find a hidden planet. I’ve seen him in visions of my own that show Yanibar being destroyed.”

“Please tell me you’re joking,” Sarth replied flatly.

“It’s not a joke,” Cassi answered. “I was skeptical at first—I still am—but Mithunir has already proven that his foresight is genuine, and he did rescue me from the Yuuzhan Vong. I owe him.”

“But, a hidden planet, Cassi? There are millions of uncharted planets out there. What makes this one so special?” Sarth inquired. “Do you know anything about what he’s talking about?”

“No, I only have his word to go on,” Cassi said. “And if you think it’s too foolish or dangerous, I won’t go.”

“Do you believe him though?” Sarth asked.

“I’m. . . willing to believe him,” Cassi responded. “At least for awhile. Milya promised to go with me, said she would try and enlist Jorge and Annita as well. But I want to know what you think.”

“I’m not comfortable with it,” Sarth admitted. “But if the Force is trying to show us something about future danger to Yanibar, I think we have an obligation to investigate it. I’ll send Jorge and Annita in the Silent Surprise so you have a decent ship to use. Do you want me to come along?”

“It’s up to you, dear,” Cassi told him. “You know I’d love your company if you’re free.”

“I know, and I’d love yours again,” Sarth said earnestly. “Right now, I’m in a major crunch with the Yanibar Guard. They rather need my attention right now—but if you need me more, I’ll turn them down.”

Cassi shook her head.

“Don’t worry about it,” she answered. “Jorge, Annita, and Milya will be going with me. We’ll be fine. Just take care of J7 when he gets back—he took quite a pounding protecting me.”

“I will,” Sarth told her. “You be careful while out wandering the stars, Cassi. Come back to me.”

“I will,” she said. “I promise.”

“I love you,” Sarth reminded her.

“I love you too,” Cassi said. “I’ll be home soon enough.”

“Take care.”

With that parting admonition, the hologram disappeared and the droid rolled out. A few minutes later, Milya walked in.

“What did Sarth say?” she asked.

“He said it was okay,” Cassi said.

Milya’s face registered the surprise she was feeling, another rarity for typically dispassionate woman.

“I know, I’m surprised too.”

“I talked it over with Jorge and Annita. They said they were willing to come along, just needed a ship.”

“Sarth is going to offer them the Silent Surprise.”

“That takes care of that then. I suppose we’ll leave as soon as they get here, if you’re feeling up to it, of course.”

“I’m fine. Force healing is tiring, but I should be ambulatory within a few hours.”

“All right, but I’m keeping an eye on you. No pushing yourself too hard.”

“I won’t,” Cassi reassured her with a small smile.

At that point, Selu strode into the sickbay with a dour expression on his face and a plate of chocolate-covered confections in one hand.

“Have a pastry?” he offered to the women.

“Sure, but why are you bringing us dessert?” Milya asked.

“We’ll talk about that in a minute—unless I’m interrupting something,” he said.

“Cassi and I were just talking about taking a little trip with Mithunir,” Milya told him. “Jorge and Annita are coming to pick us up, then we’ll do some starhopping for a few weeks to humor him and see if we find anything.”

Selu frowned, but said nothing.

“Is that a problem?” Milya asked cautiously. “I wasn’t aware we had other plans.”

“If it’s going to conflict with something, don’t worry about it,” Cassi put in.

“Not a chance,” Milya replied, an edge to her voice. “I’m not letting you wander the stars with a crazy Force-user without someone Force-trained to keep an eye on you. You would get into way too much trouble.”

“Agreed,” Selu said. “But before you go too far down that hyperlane, we should really talk.”

“All right,” Milya answered. “I’m guessing that means in private.”

“Unfortunately so,” Selu told her apologetically. “Sorry, Cassi. It’s uh. . . a defense matter.”

“I understand,” Cassi replied.

Selu led Milya out of the sickbay back toward the ship’s nerve center and into the carrier’s communication room. At a signal, the personnel inside cleared the room, giving them a measure of privacy. Selu set the plate of pastries down on the holotable.

“You should have one,” Selu told her. “They’re quite good.”

Milya crossed her arms and tapped one foot impatiently.

“You only offer me chocolate like that when you either want to get on my good side or you have bad news. Which is it?”

“The latter unfortunately,” Selu said, taking his own advice and grabbing one of the pastries. “I received a transmission from Yanibar Guard Command about five minutes. Do you want to view it or the quick recap?”

“Give me the recap,” Milya said. “I’m not sure I want to see anything that puts you in that so-upset-that-you-pretend-to-be-cheery-to-make-it-less-obvious mood.”

“Are you sure you don’t want the pastry?”

“Cut to the power cable, Selu,”

He sighed.

“Okay, but I warned you. Ariada Cerulaen has escaped.”

Milya’s jaw dropped.

“That’s impossible.”

“That’s what we thought,” Selu corrected. “But we did train the Elite Guardians to pull off the impossible.”

“What do you mean by ‘escaped?’?” Milya inquired.

“She subdued two guards and a Jal Shey Mentor who was supervising her therapy, then escaped the Haxares installation on foot.”

“And was picked up shortly thereafter with a degree of cold exposure and exhaustion to teach her a lesson?” Milya asked hopefully.

“No,” Selu answered curtly. “She escaped in a Valkyrie starbomber that she had stashed there some time beforehand. Not only did she reach orbit, but she escaped the system.”

“Stang,” Milya muttered, her eyes widening with shock.

“YGI has tried to trace her hyperroute as well as her craft’s signature, but it’s likely she masked both of them.”

“Of course she did,” Milya bit out with obvious vexation. “I taught her how to do that, and several other tricks besides.”

“So did I,” Selu reminded her. “The prison is conducting an investigation into how she escaped confinement, but it was beyond anything they had anticipated.”

“Of course it was,” Milya answered sourly.

“Do you want the pastry now?”

“Forget the pastry. I’m going to need a stiff drink. Any clues as to where she might go?”

“No idea,” Selu said. “We need to get a hold of Ryion as soon as possible, see if he knows anything.”

“If she’s as clever as she’s proved to be so far, he doesn’t know anything,” Milya countered. “She didn’t even tell him she was going to raid the data center.”

“It’s a slim chance, but it’s worth exploring. We need to find her as quickly as possible. Not only does she know too much, but she’s capable of way too much.”

“I know,” Milya replied. “But the fact that she’s so capable means that it’ll be nearly impossible to find her. Do you need me on this?”

Selu sighed again.

“I’m not sure. If Ariada is truly fallen, then perhaps we should hope that Mithunir is right about his paradise planet.”

“Do you think she would turn against us?”

“She already has,” Selu pointed out. “It’s only a matter of time before we either find her or she does something rash.”

“I will help you find her,” Milya said, “just let me tell Cassi.”

“No,” Selu replied. “You go on your trip. I’ll bring Daara from Yanibar instead and we’ll track down Ariada. If she’s still not found by the time you return, you can jump in.”

“Why not focus on finding her now?” Milya asked. “While the trail is fresh? You could use my help.”

“She knows you too well,” Selu said. “You taught her all that she knows and she would expect you to be sent after her. She would also be able to sense you coming, possibly even if you were constantly hidden in the Force. I’d love to have your help and I know you could probably sense her, but she’s also going to be able to sense you.”

“I’m her master,” Milya reminded him. “I can get by without being detected.”

“I have the utmost confidence in your abilities,” Selu told her frankly. “But we don’t have a good idea on what exactly Ariada can do. That’s why I’m not asking you or Morgedh to come along—out of all the senior Elite Guardians, she knows you the best and will be the most attuned to detect you.”

“I still think I’m good to go and that you need me on this one,” Milya warned him.

“Go on your trip with Cassi,” Selu urged her. “Search for Ariada in the Force if you can and contact me if your foresight shows me anything, but let me deal with this.”

“Are you worried about an Article 45 because I was her master, Selu? If so, just tell me now,” Milya demanded.

“A little,” Selu admitted. “Ariada’s fall did hit you pretty hard, even if you didn’t show it. I’m more worried about you overreacting and brooding about it. Go on your trip, come back with a fresh head, and then if things aren’t sorted, you can help me with it.”

“You know, that’s the third time you’ve told me to go,” Milya commented dryly. "I can take a hint.”

“It’s not personal,” Selu told her. “You know that I’d welcome your help.”

“But not at the expense of our principles or our relationship,” Milya finished. “I understand. I can see how my involvement could cause some tension.”

“You have this delightfully intense way of approaching things,” Selu put tactfully. “Particularly things of personal significance.”

“Diplomatic words, my husband,” Milya complimented him with a wry smile. “You’ve learned in thirty years.”

“A few things,” Selu said, drawing her close to him and kissing her on the forehead. “Force be with you on your trip.”

“And with you on yours,” Milya replied, wrapping her arms around him. “Wrap this matter up quickly, Selu, for all our sakes.”

“I’ll do what I can,” Selu told her as she laid her head on his shoulder. “I’m as worried about it as you are—both for Yanibar and for Ariada.”

“Whatever happens, that girl is bound for a world of sorrow,” Milya remarked sadly.

Selu looked down at her and arched an eyebrow.

“Is that a premonition or just common sense?”

“A little bit of both,” Milya began, but before she could finish, the communications board chimed.

“Master Kraen, we have a priority message sent via the ghost transmitter from Yanibar High Command,” came the voice of a communications officer.

“They didn’t want to handle it themselves?” Selu asked.

“Master Daara and the others said they believed you were better suited to handle the matter. It has Elite Guardian flags on it, sir.”

“Route it in here, then,” Selu replied.

“Understood, sir. It’s audio-only, a recording.”

The audio began crackling from static caused by transmission bleed and interference characteristic of a long-range burst transmission.

“This is Elite Qedai Sherum on Rishi. We have an agent down. Repeat, agent down. Our presence on this world is likely compromised. All remaining agents on Rishi are gathered together and awaiting further orders.”

“Get me a call to Rishi now,” Selu ordered the communications officer.

“Attempting,” the officer replied.

Selu and Milya waited nervously, pacing the room while they waited for the carrier’s communication systems to establish a secure, untraceable link with the temporary beacon deployed near Rishi. The thought foremost in their minds was that Ryion was on Rishi. Sensing the Force had been difficult recently with the wave of darkness and pain sweeping the galaxy from the Force, and so they weren’t confident of their ability to sense Ryion across the galaxy, even if he had died on his mission. Milya bit her lip as they waited while Selu ran a hand through his gray hair.

“It’s going to be okay,” he told her, despite not believing the words entirely himself.

“We’ve got a weak signal, but it’s live, sir,” the officer reported, interjecting before Milya could reply. “Patching you in now.”

“Qedai?” Selu asked.

“Master Kraen?” a drowsy but worried Qedai asked.

“It’s me,” Selu confirmed, trying to keep his voice calm. “What time is it over there?”

“0210, sir.”

“Sorry to wake you then. I need an update on what’s going on down there.”

“Yes, sir,” Qedai said. “Twenty hours ago local time, I made contact with Ryion and reported some intelligence we had received from a Peace Brigade asset we’d captured. He told me that he’d determined the nature of a Yuuzhan Vong plan and was going to try and stop it.”

“Did he give details?”

“Not really, he seemed to be in a great hurry. When we didn’t hear from him in an hour, Zeyn and I walked over to where his cover location was. There was a commotion nearby.”

“A commotion, Qedai?”

“Lots of security forces around the area,” she reported. “I couldn’t see anything, but some of the onlookers were whispering about Vong. Rumor had it that a Jedi had fought several Yuuzhan Vong warriors before being killed.”

“Killed?” Selu asked urgently, fearing the worst.

“No, no, I don’t think so, sir,” Qedai answered hastily. “None of us sensed Ryion die. But we’re not sure where he is. We think he’s injured.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know where he is?”

“The security forces were very tight-lipped about the whole thing and suggested it was the work of practical jokers, not real Vong. That’s the story the officials are sticking with, but I don’t buy it. None of them would say anything about the people involved either.”

“Do you think Ryion escaped?”

“I’m not sure, but I doubt it, sir. We can’t be too overt in our Force usage since there’s a New Republic Jedi here, but I think he’d have contacted us by now if he could. We think he was seized by the government. He’s still on Rishi. My senses tell me that he’s near or in the governor’s palace. Zeyn stopped by earlier and made polite inquiries, but nothing was revealed. Should we attempt a break-in?”

“No, not immediately,” Selu said. “Be in position to do so, though. This is now an overall Yanibar Guard matter, so Morgedh is in charge unless Ryion comes back. We’ll send reinforcements to help secure his release, then get all of you out of there.”

“Very good, sir,” Qedai replied.

The hissing transmission ended, leaving Selu and Milya alone again.

“Well, he’s still alive,” Milya remarked.

“Between the fleet, Morgedh, and Qedai, we’ll have no problems getting him off Rishi,” Selu said. “I’m going back to Yanibar—tracking Ariada is more important right now.”

“And I’m still going on this trip?” Milya asked.

“Somebody has to keep an eye on Cassi,” Selu reminded her. “You’re the only person I’d trust with that if what she says about this Mithunir are true. There’s no dissuading her now that we’ve agreed she should go.”

“Force be with us all,” Milya said sardonically. “We’re gonna need it.”


 * Rishi

“Okay, what’s going on?” Hobbie demanded as he and Anja strode into the conference room in the governor’s mansion that had been turned into an impromptu war room. “I get a call saying that Vong were spotted on Rishi yesterday and we’re only meeting twenty-four hours later?”

Kyle Katarn, Jan Ors, General Undukjavi and Colonel Previthevi, along with Viceroy Berecca, the governor of Rishi and the head of Rishi’s planetary defenses Commander Shakras all looked up at the irritated volunteer soldier as they strode in.

“Let me ask it again,” Hobbie continued with simulated patience. “What exactly is going on?”

“I apologize for the delay, Colonel,” Kyle explained. “We had some other matters to attend to, like securing the immediate area. We also wanted to make sure this wasn’t some kind of trick.”

“Let’s back up to the ‘Vong were spotted on Rishi yesterday,’” Hobbie said heatedly. “How many and what happened to them?”

“As best as we can tell, they were trying to attack or kidnap my daughter,” the viceroy offered. “A Jedi intervened and defeated the warriors at great cost to himself.”

“You don’t look so bad,” Hobbie directed at Katarn.

“Except that it wasn’t me,” Kyle answered.

“Then who was it? I didn’t know there were other Jedi on Rishi,” Hobbie insisted.

“We didn’t either,” Kyle told him. “He may not even be a member of the Jedi Order.”

“Then why call him a Jedi?” Hobbie asked. “You’re confusing me.”

“Might have something to do with the lightsaber and Force powers he was using,” Kyle replied smoothly. “I’ve sensed other disturbances in the Force. There may be more of them.”

“Well, that’s fantastic. Rogue Jedi running around,” Hobbie commented sarcastically. “What about the Vong?”

“All dead,” Jan said. “There’s other news though.”

“Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like this?” Hobbie asked.

“Don’t worry, you’re not,” Kyle replied.

“Long-range sensors detected a small group of Yuuzhan Vong ships dropping out of hyperspace at the outskirts of the system three hours ago. They’ll be in position to cut off any kind of outbound traffic any time now. So far, they’re not taking up aggressive positions, just remaining in a containment formation to block inbound or outbound shipping.”

“What does a ‘small group’ mean?” Hobbie inquired. “Can we take them?”

“Extremely unlikely,” Jan said. “They outgun your volunteers and the defense forces two to one. At the same time, it’s too small of a force to launch a successful attack on the surface other than starfighter or small troop raids. Rishi has several fortified structures with anti-orbital weaponry that would even out the fleet dispositions in a low-orbit battle.”

“As long as those are the only Yuuzhan Vong ships in orbit,” Hobbie replied. “I’m sure more are coming.”

“Most likely,” Jan admitted. “But flight is not an option now. If we tried to evacuate the refugees, we would lose most of our fighting ships and the refugees as well, and then expose the people of Rishi to retribution from the Yuuzhan Vong.”

“Somehow I doubt any help from the New Republic is likely,” Hobbie commented bitterly.

“Wouldn’t count on it,” Kyle said. “Our best hope may be to scatter the populace and try a guerrilla war, or at least hope to hide and survive. The Yuuzhan Vong may not have the resources for a prolonged search or skirmish."

"Our people would not fare well if separated and told to survive on their own against such a formidable enemy,” the viceroy objected.

“They tried that on New Plympto, guerrilla warfare,” Anja offered. “The Vong bled a little, but got tired of trying to subdue the planet.”

“What happened?” the governor asked.

She gave him a wicked smile.

“They unleashed a bioweapon on it. At least seven million died and it’s now a desolate rock like Ithor.”

The governor and the three Chalactans paled.

“Of course, I don’t think we’re going to get off so easily, at least not for awhile,” Anja continued. “After the insult we gave the Vong at Chalacta, they’re going to want to make our deaths a little more personal and a lot slower. Hope you’ve read up on the latest protocol for being sacrificed to their gods.”

“Enough, Anja,” Hobbie cut her off, then turned back to the others. “She’s right, though. They’re going to come in force as soon as they can. My men and I will die to protect the rest of you, but if the two planetary leaders want to put together a core group of people that we can evacuate to rebuild your societies after our deaths, that might be a good idea. We should be able to slip one or two ships out.”

Both the viceroy and the governor started to protest, but Kyle silenced them with a single gesture.

“It’s not a bad idea,” the Jedi said. “This isn’t the time for false hope or wishful thinking. Some of us might be able to survive by hiding here. Some might be able to escape the planet. But we need to accept that our odds of survival start out at zero and plan accordingly. We need to make sure that even if our own odds don’t go up, that someone else’s do.”

“I’m going to the sensor room and then meet with my volunteers,” Hobbie told them. “We need to talk long and hard about both ground and space defense—the Vong will be looking to knock out those fortifications to control low orbit as well.”

“I’ll come too,” Commander Shakras said, while the two Chalactan military officials reluctantly nodded their assent also.

“And you, Master Jedi?” the governor asked.

“I need to meditate and see what the Force has in store for me,” Kyle told him. “And then I need to get some answers.”

The darkness of unconsciousness consumed Ryion, swallowing him and enshrouding him in its surreal bliss. His consciousness wandered, sheltered from the harsh reality and blazing agony that would have otherwise inflicted his mind. His subconscious was protecting him by erasing memories of searing pain racing up and down his back, of delirious, feverish thrashing, of the grinning, mutilated faces of Yuuzhan Vong warriors. Instead, he remained oblivious, withdrawn into himself.

And yet the protective layer, as safe as it was, felt uncomfortable. A portion of Ryion’s detached mind sensed that he needed to be awake for whatever it was that was so important in reality. Then he started hearing the voice, an ethereal beckoning for him to wake up that manifested itself as a gentle touch somehow trickling through his nervous system to his battered mind. At first, Ryion’s mind resisted the call of the touch, knowing that despite its soothing, a world of pain and torment awaited him if he followed it back to consciousness. Eventually, as he felt the delicate brush of the touch return, his resistance waned and he found himself seeking to return to the temporal plane. Finally sloughing off the layers of inky blackness that had claimed him for untold hours, Ryion slowly awoke, blinking his eyes open as he took in his surroundings and his senses gradually returned.

Mercifully, the light was dimmed—it was morning or evening perhaps? He could feel that soft, delicate touch brushing along his back, as light as a feather in its ministrations. The pain returned, a widespread burning across his back accompanied by a deeper piercing one in his side, and he gasped as he tried to catch his breath. His foggy memory was slow to recover and Ryion focused on restoring one sense at a time before he tried to remember too much.

He was in a room, lying on his stomach on some kind of bed or couch. His olfactory senses detected the tang of antiseptic in the air and his skin felt the subtle air currents of a building’s conditioning system playing over his body. Ryion thought that was supposed to indicate something incongruous but his addled mind was still trying to adjust to consciousness to parse that particular mystery. Something was missing, he was sure, but wasn’t sure what. He felt that touch again, tracing its way down his back, soothing the raging agony that his nerves were registering. He tried to roll over to see the source of the touch, but found that while his arms and legs were up to the task, they were pinioned in place by padded restraints of some kind. A glance to the side, where his left arm was extended up and away from his body confirmed the presence of the restraints wrapped around his arm, securing him to the bed.

“Don’t try to move,” an airy voice with a lilting accent told him. “Your body is still recovering and movement would impede that.”

At that point, Ryion’s mind cleared enough so that not only could he decipher the words and recognize them as coming from a female, but he also registered the source of his earlier discomfort that he’d been unable to identify. He was naked, aside from the restraints and what felt like a blanket on the backs of his legs. This sudden realization sparked his powers of speech, memory, and rational thought back to most of their capability much faster, touching off a hesitant reply.

“I’m not sure which would be worse,” he muttered slowly. “A fight with the Vong that I barely remember, or waking up naked and tied to a bed with a strange woman in the room that I don’t remember.”

There was silence to his comment and Ryion vaguely remembered that such a comment might invoke a blush in a more conscientious member of society—if in fact the other occupant of the room was one of those individuals. Another thought hit him and he vocalized it as well, still too pleased with his newly-regained ability to speak to filter his speech overmuch.

“Please tell me your name is not Ellaya,” Ryion said, grimacing.

“No,” the voice assured him, though there was a trace of confusion in the tone. “It’s Shara.”

Memories came flooding back. The fight in the street to defend Shara. Facing off against at least eight Yuuzhan Vong warriors. Getting stabbed. Getting set on fire. Passing out. Well, up to that last one at least.

“So you escaped,” he said.

“And you survived,” she told him. “We were worried about you for a while.”

“Where am I?” he groaned.

“The governor’s palace.”

“And how long have I been here?” he asked, measuring how much strength he had regained.

So far, he felt fairly horrible, but could probably stand and walk out if he had to—for a very little while.

“It’s been thirty-nine hours. You got out of surgery thirty-six hours ago and started thrashing around, re-opening your wound. We had to restrain you to stop you from hurting yourself. You’ve been unconscious ever since.”

“Could be worse,” Ryion commented dryly, noting the intravenous lines and monitors running from his arms and chest. “I think you can take off the wires and tubes now. Restraints, too.”

“You’re not fully recovered,” Shara reminded him.

“I’ll be fine,” Ryion managed. “I need to get out of here.”

She sounded shocked.

“You’re not going anywhere in that condition!” she said. “You are still recovering from being stabbed and you still have severe burns from your shoulders to your. . . well. . .”

“I know,” Ryion replied curtly. “Might be hard to believe that I’ve been through worse, but I have.”

“I saw your scars,” she answered. “And you’re no toymaker, judging by them and your physique.”

“Well thank you for noticing,” Ryion quipped wryly. “I try to impress.”

Ryion’s Force senses had returned enough that he sensed her blush this time as she tried to generate a dignified reply.

“Let’s not forget the lightsaber and the other. . . abilities,” she said. “Are you a Jedi?”

“Would you stop asking me questions if I said yes?” Ryion asked.

“Is that what you want?”

“What I want is to get out of here right now,” Ryion replied firmly. “Preferably clothed and with my weapons.”

“You’re in no shape to do anything of the sort,” Shara told him with equal resolve as she traced a cool cloth of some kind over his back—the touch he’d felt earlier. “You need to rest and heal.”

Ryion took measure of his Force strength. While far from its usual levels due to his physical condition, he figured he could probably enhance his strength enough to snap the restraints and subdue Shara long enough to make his escape. Then again, by the time he broke the restraints, Shara could likely pump him full of enough sedatives to make him sleep for a week. Ryion temporarily shelved plans at a forcible escape, opting for a different tactic instead.

“You know, I could throw you across the room with my mind and then get free if I wanted to,” he told her.

She leaned over so she could whisper into his ear.

“Would you do that to the woman you nearly died to save?” she asked him huskily. “Could you bring yourself to harm an unarmed person in cold blood? If so, then go ahead.”

Ryion frowned. That had been a weak point in his logic and one that he had not anticipated her using against him.

“I didn’t think so,” she replied, straightening up and resuming her ministrations. “Now lie still and let me finish applying this bacta salve to your burns.”

Feeling very much like an insolent child just disciplined by his mother, Ryion complied sullenly.

“You’re not going to be able to keep me here forever,” he warned her, injecting as much machismo as possible into his voice after having his bluff called.

“Nor do I want to,” Shara told him. “It is for your own good that we are keeping you here, out of sight and safe until you can recover your strength. Then you may do as you please.”

“And yet you won’t let me do as I please right now,” Ryion reminded her.

“I thought patience was a Jedi virtue,” Shara countered as she finished applying the bacta salve.

“I never said I was a Jedi.”

“Are you going to tell me who you are then?”

“Hard to say.”

“You are a man with many secrets, Matrik Tenzor, if that is really your name.” she told them as she knelt by his bedside, checking the bandages over his stab wound. “But I will not try to wrest them from you. As long as you are in my care, you will not be questioned—though there are those who would like to do so.”

“Thank you,” Ryion replied begrudgingly.

She leaned forward to whisper into his ear.

“No, it is I who should be thanking you. You saved my life,” she said, brushing away an unruly lock of hair from his ear. “I owe you a great debt of gratitude.”

“You could start by releasing me,” Ryion suggested, looking back over his shoulder to make eye contact with her.

She smiled and shook her head.

“I’m not about to let the man who saved my life leave this place to collapse on the street or be attacked again. In your current state, you’d be lucky to make it two hundred meters down the road alive,” she said concernedly.

“I suggest we find out,” Ryion offered. “Or else sooner or later I’m going to try it anyway.”

“After seeing what you did yesterday, I’m sure I could not stop you,” Shara said. “But if you escape, the agreement that my father and I negotiated with the Jedi and the other defense officials here will be broken and they will have permission to take you into custody and possibly question you.”

She smiled impishly at him.

“And besides, if you escape, I won’t tell you where I’ve hidden your lightsaber. It’s very safe—you won’t find it without my help.”

Ryion glared helplessly at her, struggling to find a reply.

“This may not seem much like gratitude to you, but I believe you will thank me eventually,” she said. “You were my defender in the streets today, now let me be your defender until you are recovered.”

Ryion sighed and turned his head back to rest his chin on the pillow, staring at the wall rather than look at her.

“I suppose that’s the way it has to be for now,” he admitted. “But somehow I’m not terribly reassured.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Shara said, accepting his tacit admission. “Better get some sleep.”

With that, she rose and slipped a thin cloth sheet over him, then walked quietly out of the room, leaving Ryion to contemplate his current existence. He sighed, then closed his eyes and tried to focus on healing. The sooner he recovered, the sooner he could get out of here. And with any luck, the Jedi would leave, allowing Morgedh, Zeyn, and Qedai to spring him out of here.

Ryion snorted dejectedly. With the way his current luck was holding, there’d be nothing of the kind. In fact, on his current streak, there was probably a Yuuzhan Vong fleet coming to blast them into atoms while he was laid up at the mercy of this Chalactan governess. Had he known the truth of his pessimistic appraisal, it wouldn’t have surprised him in the least, but for now, Ryion remained ignorant. Instead, he did his best to fall asleep without seeing Shara’s face in his mind’s eye, chiding him incessantly.