Force Exile II: Smuggler/Part 7

15
Selu Kraen sat up groggily as the rusted metal deck lurched beneath him, dumping him on his side. After the ship’s initial jump into hyperspace, his captor had come back to secure him in a dingy little cabin, lit only by a crazily angled glowpanel loosely suspended from the ceiling. Past stains on the walls were a grisly and discomfiting reminder of past occupants and their plights. He had dozed off after using a Jedi technique to calm his mind, despite the rather uncomfortable nature of the metal block that was supposed to serve as a bunk. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up and waited. His chafed wrists reminded him of where the binders had so recently bit into the flesh as they pinioned him.

A few minutes later, his captor came back and opened the door, standing there silhouetted by the lights in the corridor.
 * “What is it?” he asked slowly.
 * “Breakfast,” she announced, tossing him a ration pack.
 * “Thank you,” he replied.
 * “Thank me?” the Mistryl replied, laughing. “Are you always so polite to your captors?”
 * “I have no reason not to be,” he said. “Besides locking me up, you haven’t done anything that bad.”
 * “Not yet,” she said.
 * “Good enough for now,” he remarked, peeling off the cover of the ration pack.

Interestingly enough, he had only noticed one Mistryl on the ship. Had he and the Durashield guards been good enough to kill or incapacitate the others? He suspected so, but had no way of confirming it. Looking up, he noticed she was still there.
 * “Is this some sort of trick? What, you’re going to poison me with the food and laugh about it?”

Selu honestly didn’t expect that sort of thing from the Mistryl, and a Jedi would not have made that statement, but he was role-playing as a scared, nervous scientist, so he continued with the charade.

The Mistryl snorted. “Don’t be so juvenile, Kraen. I’m merely keeping an eye on you until our guests arrive.”
 * “I see,” he said, sliding over on the block to make more room. “Would you like to sit down, in that case?”
 * “What? You’re crazy, Kraen,” she said.
 * “Am I? Look, my legs are still chained to this block and I’m pretty sure you could take me in hand-to-hand if you wanted to. I just figured you’d be more comfortable sitting down, Miss- uh- whatever your name is.”
 * “You can call me Helsi,” she said.

It was against Mistryl protocol to get chummy with the prisoners, but Kraen seemed harmless enough. While she would get in a lot of trouble with her superiors if they found out, they didn’t have to know. She sat there quietly, watching him devour the rations hungrily. Something didn’t seem quite right with the whole situation, but she couldn’t pin it down, and the crackling of the bridge communications board distracted her. She smiled coldly at Kraen.
 * “Must be off,” she said. “Have to go welcome my sisters aboard.”

As she left, Selu Kraen smirked quietly. Deadly this Mistryl might be, but not nearly as professional as might be expected. Her youth and inexperience made that obvious. No experienced interrogator would sit by a prisoner, even if he was supposed to be harmless. Her comrades, on the other hand, would pose an interesting problem. If it wasn’t for the fact that she had to have reported in to her superiors, he would have simply broken free and taken over the ship. However, the disappearance of the vessel might eventually put the Mistryl back on his and Sarth’s trail, and he wasn’t willing to risk that. There was also the little matter of the computer core that he had been given- one that would lower the Mistryl planetary defenses. Judging from what the Car’das agent had said, the other party involved was likely the Empire. Selu smiled at the thought of the Mistryl being forced into submission by an Imperial Star Destroyer or two. Maybe the Empire was good for something after all.

He sat there quietly for awhile. There was no sense in trying to get a view from his cabin- there were no windows and the door was quite solid. However, he could use the Force to get a sense of what was going on. Six more humans had just boarded the vessel, all of them appearing to be females. One of them seemed different, though he couldn’t determine why. Augmenting his hearing, he still could only pick out snatches of conversation over the natural noise of the ship’s machinery, so he gave that up. Instead, he sat on his crude bed, meditating as best he could. The Mistryl could have placed any kind of sensor or holocam in the room, so he had avoided any postures or stances that could be traced back to the Jedi; it was hard enough to just to pretend to be Sarth without having to answer awkward questions and drawing suspicion.

Then the door opened again and one of the females walked in. Selu sat there quietly as she entered, not caring who she was.
 * “You’ll stay here until we arrive,” said one of the Mistryl, a different one, from the doorway. “It won’t be long, but we apologize for the accommodations.”
 * “Do you mind?” the other woman asked him, indicating the metal block on which he was sitting.
 * “Not at all,” Selu replied, sliding over some on his crude bed to make room for the new occupant.

As she sat down, he got a good look at her face for the first time and started in recognition.
 * “Do I know you?” he asked, as a cover.

She turned to regard him with a slight smile.
 * “You might,” she said. “I was all over the holofeeds at one time.”

Selu knew exactly who she was and precisely why there had been such great media coverage, and it made his blood boil. However, he kept his cool, at least externally.
 * “Then I know who you are. To what do I owe the pleasure, Jenna Zan Arbor?” he asked politely.
 * “I imagine the same thing as you are here for,” she said dryly, shaking his hand. “A new employment proposition.”
 * “Enforced at the point of a vibroblade,” he added.
 * “Precisely. And might I ask whom I am speaking to?” she asked.
 * “Sarth Kraen. I used to work on advanced droid algorithms and weaponry. I already know your specialty, I believe.”
 * “I find myself flattered. Which of my past projects have you heard of?” she intoned smoothly.

Killing civilians and Jedi, Selu wanted to say. Jenna Zan Arbor was a notorious rogue scientist who had captured Jedi before joining the Confederacy. In Separatist employment, she had helped concoct planet-ravaging stone mites and deadly swamp gas. Jedi across the Republic were familiar with her bioweapons and had been instructed to apprehend her on sight, with the use of lethal force an option if she resisted.
 * “Oh, just a few things throughout the war,” he said. “We were on opposite sides of research, so I only heard about you in passing.”
 * “Well, I haven’t heard of you, to be honest, but I suspect we’ll be working for the same people now.”
 * “So they’re recruiting us into the Mistryl?” he said. “I figured as much. I mean, I look so good in a combat jumpsuit packing a pair of vibroblades.”
 * “Into their war effort, actually. I suspect they’ll give us things to do to help them in their conflict with some neighboring systems. I got an earful of their spiel on the way in. How about you?”
 * “I didn’t hit it off so well with them, actually.”
 * “Because you’re a man?”
 * “No. Because some of my, um, associates killed some of theirs.”
 * “How inconvenient,” she said. “I imagine that wouldn’t go over well.”
 * “It didn’t,” he said smoothly. “But in the end, I figured it was not such a bad deal.”
 * “So why did they hire you? We both know my specialty, but what’s your claim to fame.”
 * “Do you know what a droideka is?” he said.
 * “Sure. Nasty little droid that can kill infantry like a hawk-bat among granite slugs. Perfect amalgamation of speed, firepower, and protection.”
 * “Right,” he said, smiling at the analogy. “I deciphered the control algorithm for it. If my research hadn’t disappeared courtesy of some of these fine people, the Republic would have been able to take over every droideka during the Battle of Coruscant.”

Zan Arbor’s mouth actually gaped open. Selu smiled slightly at the thought of having actually impressed such a notorious scientist, though he figured Sarth would have appreciated it more. His desire to kill Zan Arbor was somewhat interfering with enjoying the moment. Clamping down on that most assuredly dark-sided idea, he continued to quietly chat with the most wanted Confederacy scientist, vaguely aware that he had just shaken a hand stained with the blood of thousands.
 * Commenor

Sarth Kraen slowly walked back into the medcenter, followed by Cassi and Spectre. The doors hissed open and the Securer standing guard at the ward waved them inside after checking their identities. Spectre slowly walked over to an occupied bed and began slowly taking off his armor, and Sarth figured the ex-trooper was likely in pain from his injuries. Slowly relaxing, Sarth let himself sink into a chair by the side of the bed, with Cassi taking another one by his side. He was tired and drained physically and emotionally after such a harrowing week and his mannerisms showed it.
 * “Ah, welcome back. Did you rescue the detective?” asked Jorge, walking in through the other door.
 * “Yes, we got to her,” said Sarth. “She’ll be all right.”
 * “Good,” said Jorge.
 * “Where are my parents?” asked Sarth.
 * “They’re still finishing up their meal,” Jorge replied. “They’ll be back in a few minutes.
 * “Sounds good,” said Sarth wearily.
 * “Sounds good?” said a new voice.

Everyone turned to see Milya standing in the doorstep.
 * “How does that sound good?” she asked. “Your brother is off on a suicide mission to Emberlene, and you’re just sitting here.”
 * “Brother?” said Sarth, remembering to cover for Selu this time.

Milya rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. I figured it out awhile ago, and if you haven’t told everyone else in this room, it’s probably a good time to spill the news.”
 * “Actually, I think everyone in the room does know now,” put in Cassi.
 * “See?” Milya said.
 * “Where have you been?” asked Jorge.
 * “I went out to the docking bay, looking for clues,” she replied. “I found this.”

She held up Selu’s dropped sidearm.
 * “So what are you going to do now?” she asked.

When no one answered her immediately, she continued.
 * “So your family ties are that weak. That’s pathetic. If I had a brother, I’d go to the end of the galaxy for him. Selu saved my life and showed me kindness when I was desperate. I owe him one- and that means I’m going to go find him.”
 * “That is just not feasible,” said Sarth slowly. “They’ve got to have him locked up securely somewhere by now.”
 * “Well, assuming your trooper over there is up to the task, that shouldn’t be a problem. If not, I’m not bad myself. Anyway, does it really matter?”
 * “Yes, it does,” said Sarth. “What good is his sacrifice if we manage to get ourselves killed for his sake?”
 * “If we do this correctly, there won’t be any sacrifice on his part,” she replied. “Look, I know you all don’t know me, or know who I am. I haven’t done anything to earn your respect or trust, but I am going to rescue Selu. You can either do nothing, you can help me, or you can stop me. In which case I’ll probably have to hurt someone. But I am not going to abandon someone who saved my life to a bunch of scummy Mistryl.”
 * “Do you have any notions on how to pull that off?” asked Sarth.
 * “Not yet,” she replied flippantly. “It’s a day or two from here to Emberlene, if we push it. That’s plenty of time to plan, isn’t it?”
 * “I see,” he said slowly. “Milya, going to Emberlene . . . it’s suicide. For all of us. Besides, Selu told us not to go after him.”
 * “I’m not dead yet,” she countered. “And Selu isn’t here. Are any of you coming, or not?”
 * “I’ll go,” said Jorge, standing up. “You’ll need someone to pilot the Hawk-bat. I owe Selu from New Holstice too.”
 * “What happened on New Holstice?” said Sarth. “I still haven’t heard.”

Jorge quickly recounted the story to Sarth, Cassi, and Spectre, starting from when they arrived on New Holstice through the death of Captain Sei’lar and their subsequent escape from the world, as best as he could. There were gaps in his narrative, and his speech faltered and stuttered through the account. However, he got the general idea across to his audience, so in that, he felt successful, even though a critical review of the tale would have been about as complimentary as a drunken Twi’lek.

Sarth sat in quiet silence, realizing to just what depths his brother had gone to remove the threat of danger from him. That first night that they had met, the night the Jedi Order had fallen, Sarth hadn’t known what to make of this strange relative of his who had suddenly fallen back into his life. Then had come the chilling realization that he was hunted, the memory of being abducted rushing back to him. Selu had come after him, having known him for less than a week, and saved him from the Mistryl. Ever since joining the Hawk-bat, Sarth had gotten the impression that Selu was silently standing watch over him, whether that be fending off pirates or battling Mistryl mercenaries. Sarth had always prided himself on being able to outthink his way out of any situation, but the truth was that he owed a lot to Selu and his ability to think on his feet. Even as Jorge’s tale filled his ears, his heart knew that he was going to pay Selu back. It might be too late for any hope of rescuing him, but he would never know if he had gone back.

Cassi was similarly pensive. She had known, or thought she had known a man named Micor for several months. Crewing onboard the same relatively small freighter meant that everyone knew each other fairly well. Micor, or Selu now, she guessed, had always been a bit distant when asked about his past, but she never would have thought that he was a Jedi Knight in exile, or that R’hask Sei’lar would have been a gunrunner for partisans rebelling against the Empire. Part of her just wanted to leave, tell the Empire, and make it all disappear, but after crewing with Sei’lar, she was skeptical of any type of government and did not want to get Sarth in trouble. The whole turn of events was entirely beyond her control, it seemed to her, and there was little she could do, even if she was sure of a course of action. The one thing she had made up her mind was that she was not going to leave Sarth. He might not be a Jedi Knight, but his quiet intelligence and strength in this time of crisis only served to deepen her respect, admiration, attraction, and love for him. Her doubts and worries about Annita aside, she needed him to be there for her, and she suspected- no, she hoped, that he was depending on her also. Sarth Kraen was still so much a mystery to her, but there was no way in space that she’d abandon him now.

For her part, Milya was contemplating how to persuade the others to aid her if Jorge’s account was unsuccessful. Her contingency plan was merely to steal the Hawk-bat and fly it to Emberlene herself, but that was far from her preferred strategy. Selusda Kraen had saved her life, and offered her the chance at the closest thing to family she’d ever had. Then, he had showed the depth of his commitment by handing himself over to the Mistryl, a ruthless group of customers if there ever was one. All for the sake of family. Even if she had never experienced a bond of that close-knit nature, Milya knew that she wanted it, and would honor Selu’s sacrifice to the best that she could.
 * “Wow,” said Sarth finally, as the rest of them continued to sit in quiet silence, reflecting on what they had just heard.
 * “See?” Milya said. “Selu is the reason that Jorge and myself are standing here. He’s fought the Mistryl off of you, and now he needs our help. So what do you say?”
 * “I’m in,” said Sarth.
 * “Me too,” chimed in Cassi.

Cassi drew in close to face Sarth and he could smell the scent of her perfume as she looked into his eyes.
 * “I’m not letting you get away from me,” she breathed.
 * “Are you sure about this?” he said.
 * “If you’re going, I’m going,” she said resolutely. “You’ll get into trouble without me there to keep an eye on you.”
 * “I suspect I’ll get in trouble even with you there, maybe even more so,” Sarth said. :“Are you up for that?”
 * “I can handle it,” she replied.
 * “I guess this is the part where I say how much I truly, deeply, love you?” he said.
 * “Thanks,” she said, then added teasingly. “But for the record, that’s a really lame phrase.”
 * “I know,” he said. “I’ll work on it.”
 * “You do that,” she said, giving him a quick kiss.

Then the couple remember the presence of the others in the room and they reluctantly turned back to face them, not the least bit embarrassed.
 * “How about you, Spectre?” said Sarth.
 * “I decided to go by myself on the way back here. I’ve been thinking about how to do that while you’ve been talking,” said the ex-ARC.
 * “Glad to hear it,” said Sarth. “Between us, we should be able implement a rescue plan.”
 * “Let’s get going then,” said Milya. “We don’t have any time to waste.”

At that point, Samtel and Lena returned, followed by Bwilor and Drelve.
 * “Hey Spectre, glad you’re back,” said Bwilor. “Go get your gear; we’ll be headed out soon. Jorge got our reimbursement, so here’s your pay.”

Spectre accepted the credit chit gladly, but not so the instructions.
 * “I’ll be getting my gear, but I won’t be leaving with you. I’m sorry, Bwilor, but I won’t be working for Durashield Securities anymore.”
 * “What are you talking about? You did splendidly, despite the tragic loss of Twone. We had you in line for a raise.”
 * “I appreciate that, sir, but I have other obligations to handle.”
 * “Are you sure about that?” Bwilor asked. “You’re throwing away a stable income and a chance at a new life. Not all our work is as dangerous as this job has been; quite the opposite. Your skills could earn you a good place in the company.”
 * “I respect that,” said Spectre. “And the danger doesn’t bother me, but I have some unfinished business to take care of. Perhaps later.”
 * “Well, if your mind is made up,” said Bwilor.
 * “It is,” put in Spectre.
 * “In that case, it’s been good working with you,” said Bwilor, pumping Spectre’s arm one last time.
 * “Be seeing you,” said Drelve.

And with that, the two security professionals took their leave of the rest of the group and were out the door to go collect their gear and return to their business.
 * “I’m sorry to see them go,” said Samtel. “They did their best to protect us.”
 * “That they did,” agreed Sarth. “And I’m sorry to break this to you so suddenly, but I need to tell you something.”
 * “What is it, son?” said Lena softly.
 * “I’m leaving- we all are. We’re going after Selu,” Sarth replied slowly.
 * “But, you can’t do that!” Lena said. “They’ll capture you too, or worse.”
 * “Son, think this through,” said Samtel.
 * “I have,” said Sarth.
 * “Look, Selu is our son, too, and we love him dearly. But we love you too,” said Lena. “We don’t want you to get hurt.”
 * “I know you, Mom,” said Sarth. “But this is necessary.”
 * “Why?”
 * “Selu saved my life; saved all of us. We owe him that much.”
 * “Son, are you sure about this?” said Samtel.
 * “Dad, you instilled in me the need to always do the right thing and never abandon a friend. Selu’s not just a friend; he’s family. I can’t not do anything.”
 * “Fair enough,” said Samtel. “I don’t want you to go, but you’re right.”
 * “What about us? About me? I don’t want to lose both of my sons on the same day,” cut in Lena, her eyes glistening and her face contorted with emotion.
 * “You won’t,” said Sarth quietly. “I’ll bring Selu back. I promise.”
 * “I hope so,” said Samtel gravely, as Lena began crying and pillowed her head into her husband’s shoulder.

The elder Kraen put his hand around his wife of over twenty years and looked his older son in the eye.
 * “I love you, son. Be careful out there.”
 * “Love you too, dad. I will.”

Sarth gave each of his parents a hug, then walked out the door resolutely with the others, not looking back, not wanting to see the salt water flowing from the eyes of both his parents.
 * “Clear skies,” said Samtel falteringly as the group filed out of the hospital.

Holding his gently crying wife, he looked up at the ceiling as if trying to find the answers to life’s problems there, wondering why the universe would try to take both his boys from him. If nothing else, questioning the rationale for fate kept his mind off of just how cruel fate could be. As a father, he had never wanted to see his sons hurt or injured, and his heart ached at the thought of the trials and tests that awaited them. He needed to be strong, strong for Lena, and strong for whatever would come. If only he could summon that strength when he needed it.
 * Emberlene

Selu was rudely awakened by the lurching of the ship. A small intercom crackled in the cell, and he looked up blearily to see Jenna Zan Arbor already sitting there quietly.
 * “Secure yourself for landing,” squawked the intercom.

Selu sat up slowly, rubbing the aches out of his arms and legs. He had been sleeping on the deck, leaving the crude bed for Zan Arbor. He was relatively used to discomfort anyway, but he had planned on spending most of the trip using Jedi techniques to draw on the Force and prepare a plan of some sorts to get himself out of Mistryl custody. Unfortunately, that plan had been rude disrupted. Jenna Zan Arbor had once experimented on Jedi, many years ago, and had encountered others throughout the war. She would have studied them and recognized Jedi-like behavior relatively quick and Selu simply could not afford that. However, not being able to draw on familiar meditation techniques had prevented him from strategizing as much as he would have wanted. The fact that they were fellow captives meant nothing; Zan Arbor was as slippery as a greased Dug and had always worked for the highest bidder.
 * “We must be arriving on Emberlene,” said Zan Arbor, a bare hint of a bemused smile on her face.
 * “I’ve overjoyed,” said Selu sarcastically.
 * “I don’t understand what your problem is, Kraen. These people are willing to pay us considerably for our talents.”
 * “Perhaps when they attack you and kill off your associates, it’ll make more sense,” he replied.
 * “You are such a naïve idealist. Credits make associates fairly easy to replace.”
 * “Some things are more important.”

She laughed. “You certainly do a good imitation of a mad scientist.”

There was no real response to that, so Selu shrugged and settled in to wait for set-down. Not long afterward, the door opened and two Mistryl appeared.
 * “Get up,” said one of them. “The Matriarch is waiting to see you.”

Selu and Jenna were quickly hustled out of the ship by the Mistryl out onto the landing pad. They were in some kind of enclosed compound that served as a landing bay, well protected by hooded and robed Shadow Guards. Selu noted that it was evening local time and the stars were peeking through gaps in thick cloud cover. The sight of tall buildings and skyscrapers told him that they were in an urban area, but aside from the dim glowpanels revealing the pale green permacrete or equivalent material that everything seemed to be made of, he could not get a good idea of what the compound looked like.

The Mistryl led both of them to a tall building with high, arched doors that adjoined into the bay, and the entire party stopped at the door, two Mistryl following behind with his computer core and another pair of storage cylinders that must have belonged to Zan Arbor. The lead Shadow Guard stepped forward as two guards appeared from nowhere. Apparently, her authorization was good, as the doors slowly creaked open and they were led into a sizable turbovator shaft tucked away inside the entrance. The deck of the turbovator easily accommodated all of them, and Selu noted that they ascended up until near the crest of the building. As the lift came to a halt, another pair of doors, also impressively high and covered with intricate carvings, slowly opened to reveal a long hall.

Selu slowly walked down into the middle of the room. It was dimly lit, with an elevated dais illuminated by two torches at the end of the room, but a giant stained glass window that dominated the wall behind them would likely provide more light during the day. The only other lighting in the room came from flickering torches tucked away into nooks along the wall that cast their flickering light along the pillars and walls of the room, providing a subterranean feel. There was a chair on the dais, and various holodisplays and consoles lining the walls of the room, neatly tucked away behind pillared alcoves, but their light was subtle and the sanctum at large remained shrouded in shadowy gloom. Selu observed that there were Mistryl manning some of the workstations, though he could not make out what they were working on. His attention soon caught on the chair at the end of the hall though.
 * “Welcome, Jenna Zan Arbor and Sarth Kraen,” said an aged female voice slowly from the chair. A slender hand with long nails gestured out towards them as the voice spoke. “I am Palla D’sephone, Matriarch of the Mistryl.”

At the sound of the name, all the Mistryl in their party dropped to one knee. Selu and Zan Arbor also hesitantly bowed.
 * “Rise,” Palla said. “I apologize for the haste in which you were conducted here and in some cases”- here she cast an eye at Selu- “the circumstances in which you were approached, but I assure it was only what we felt was necessary. I will get right to the point with both of you. You are here on Emberlene because we have need of your services, as well-regarded and innovative scientists in your field. We are assailed by those who would see us ruined, and the war goes ill for us. With your help, we shall turn the tide on our foes once more.”
 * “What’s in it for our help?” asked Zan Arbor.
 * “Ah, a woman of the galaxy. How refreshing. Have no fear, you will amply compensated for your time,” replied Palla, smiling. “Besides the standard room and board, there will be considerable financial incentive.”

Palla snapped her fingers, and two younger Mistryl acolytes pushed in a pair of hoversleds from one of the side hallways that connected to the main hall near the front of the room, each loaded with a small trunk. Quickly, the two acolytes halted the sleds off to the side where both the scientists could see them easily. The lids were opened and even in the dim light, Selu could see the sparkling of precious gems.
 * “They are small, legitimate, and quite untraceable. The current market value of each chest is 40,000 credits and there is more where that came from,” said Palla slyly.
 * “What if we are not really interested in the offer?” said Selu.
 * “In that case, Mr. Kraen, your stay on Emberlene might not be so pleasant. However, I understand that you’ve had a long trip and that you are weary. Forgive the impatience of my Shadow Guards- some of them are still young. Helsi, provide accommodations for their guests for now. There will be another audience, but after they have a chance to rest.”

Helsi bowed slightly at the waist.
 * “It shall be as you command, Mistress.”

An hour later, freshly sanisteamed and dressed in a clean utility jumpsuit that had been provided for him, Selu Kraen was led back into the Matriarch’s chamber. His hair was still tousled from the hour or so long nap that he had taken and somewhat damp, but other than that he looked fairly respectable. He had pulled his spacer’s jacket back on over his new clothes- his old ones had been taken while he was in the refresher. The Mistryl had been courteous enough since he had arrived, taking to him to a small bedroom complete with refresher for his own use. The small quarters that had been loaned to him had certainly been functional enough, and if he was going to be here for a prolonged period, he expected that he would see more of them. However, that was hopefully not in the cards. Escorted up to the Matriarch’s hall again, he noted as he walked down toward the dais that Jenna Zan Arbor was already here, seated in one of the work alcoves and working on something.
 * “Welcome back, Sarth Kraen,” said Palla in her oddly gravelly voice.

Selu bowed slowly in response.
 * “Rise. I trust you rested well.”

It was not a question, but Selu answered it like it was.
 * “I did indeed, Matriarch.”
 * “Good. We have much to talk about, I think. Do you know what you were brought here for?”
 * “Because of my work in droid programming and military technologies,” he said. If he weren’t posing as scientist, he might have tried baiting the Matriarch with some barbed wit, but that wouldn’t be fitting with this character.
 * “That’s correct. Are you familiar with the droideka?”
 * “Yes I am. I worked on them during the war; was even able to find a way to access and override their control algorithms.”
 * “I know. That is one of the things you will do for us; controlling the droidekas we have been able to obtain will be of great help. Do so now- whatever you need can be acquired to get the task done. We have inactive droidekas in this complex if disassembly or manual manipulation is required and computing stations on hand for you to use.”

''Whatever I want. Hmm. How about a ticket off this planet and lifting the hunt off of my brother?'' Selu considered. However, quashing that thought, he returned to his scientist persona, trying to sound educated.
 * “Preliminarily, I need to access the files embedded into the core I brought. I can’t commence alteration and control override programming on those droids until I retrieve the pertinent algorithms.”
 * “Then perhaps you would care to activate the computer core now?”
 * “Uh, certainly,” said Selu.

Walking over to where the large cylinder was located, he opened the main access hatch, folding up a holodisplay and control panel. Trying to appear as calm and competent as possible, he went through the steps of activating the device as the instructions prompted him to. Thankfully, there did not seem to be many security devices, other than a voice recognition and retinal scan test that must have been coded based on his encounter with the Devaronian agent on New Holstice and the computer had been programmed to run itself with relative ease of operator use, a sincere relief to Selu. A double-cross from the Car’das Syndicate was certainly a very real possibility, and an unpleasant one at that. Glancing at the holographic display, Selu noted that the computer was now fully activating, but it would require three hours for full functionality.
 * “Matriarch, I have activated the core, but it will take some time for it to come online. I’m sorry, but it was built according to certain specifications and will need some time. I cannot change that now. Perhaps if it was linked into your power systems and data networks, the process would be faster.”

The Matriarch contemplated his proposal, and then indicated to her attendants to attach the core into one of the networks. They did so silently, but that left Selu standing somewhat uncomfortably before her, wondering what to do now. He figured that having direct relays into the main data systems would allow the slicer programs in the core to bypass the security protocols and disable the defense systems faster, but there was still the issue of the three hours. Selu hoped that the Car’das group had timed this properly, or else it would be time for plan B. Also, the Matriarch seemed to have the same idea regarding his idleness.
 * “It seems we have some time on our hands, Master Kraen.”
 * “Yes, Matriarch,” he said, trying his best to look servile.

There was a long silence, and Selu wondering if his answer was unsatisfactory. His hands fidgeted behind his back, though he earnestly wished his nervousness was not conspicuous to any casual observers.
 * “Do you play dejarik?” the Matriarch asked suddenly.

Selu thought back to countless hours of playing the game when he was a Jedi.
 * “I used to be decent,” he said.
 * “I figured you might be. Come up here on the dais and we’ll play a game.”
 * “As you wish,” Selu said.

It wasn’t like he really had a choice in the matter.

A new acolyte, also hooded, brought in a holographic game table from a corner and placed it on the dais near Palla’s throne, as one of the first two brought a chair for Selu.
 * “Dejarik is an ancient game, a thinking game,” Palla said as she considered her opening move. “Much more sophisticated and subtle than sabacc or anything other such foolishness.”
 * “Indeed,” agreed Selu.
 * “Are you hungry?” asked Palla.
 * “Yes, Matriarch,” Selu replied, as he was famished.

She waved a hand and an acolyte disappeared down a hall only to reappear a minute later with a bowl of muja fruit, which she handed to Selu. The Matriarch started the game while Selu, munching on the crisp, juicy flesh of the muja, planned his own first move. He soon found himself mired in a contest of wills with the Matriarch, each player calling upon his or her knowledge of the nuances of stratagem, deceptions, counter-deceptions and various obscure tactics. Time dragged by, yet neither of them noticed it, too intent on the holographic game monsters decorating the polished checkerboard table. They were evenly matched throughout the contest, though the Matriarch was slowly, gradually, taking over.

Dejarik is a game of skill and strategy, noted Selu. One had to use his own pieces to their maximum effect while keeping the opponent from doing the same. Alternately, one could also feign weakness while disguising a trap for an unsuspecting opponent. Still other approaches to the game involved trying to maneuver the other player’s monsters into unfavorable positions where they could be bypassed in favor of more significant end goals, such as controlling the center squares of the circular board. The Matriarch was playing a highly deceptive strategy, utilizing a large variety of traps and leverage positions in an attempt to off-balance him. Her monsters stormed the board from all angles, seeking to cut off and isolate his pieces, a strategy which was so far proving to be largely successful. Selu considered using the Force to sense the perceptions and possibly the strategies of the Matriarch, but some strange feeling told him not to, that he should save his strength for later struggles. That same niggling urge had caused him to damp down his Force presence upon entering the hall the second time. Plo Koon would have called it the guidance of the Force and Selu willingly obeyed it, though he was not entirely sure why. He certainly could use the guidance of the Force, though pertaining to how to get out of this rancor’s nest, not dejarik. That was just a game. On the flip side of things, he wanted to beat the Matriarch, wanted to show her up. He was tired of being ordered around and of this charade of weakness, but the time wasn’t right.

Selu leaned in closer to study the arrangement of the pieces and suddenly realized that it wasn’t just a game. The Matriarch’s strategy of cutting off each of his pieces and assaulting them from many angles was a mirror of the Mistryl Shadow Guard’s attacks on his family. His attempts at a fairly consolidated, conservative defense were staving them off, but could not endure for an indefinite span of time. Every single move that the Matriarch made was representative of the contest between the Mistryl and his family and each of his moves was comparable to the defensive strategies that had been used to counter them. Was that deliberate on her part, or mere chance? Having traveled the galaxy from a young age, Selu did not believe in chance. However, that meant that his next move would tell her what his plan was. She had contrived to place him in such a position that there was only one move that he could still utilize in order to win the game. The problem with that was that if she was using the dejarik board to determine his motivations, she would immediately know his intent in being here. There was no way a player of her skill could possibly miss it. As Selu stared at the pieces and tried to decide, he was distracted by a chiming sound. Following the sound back to its source, he noted that the computer core was signaling him.
 * “If you’ll excuse me,” he said to the Matriarch. “I’ll return shortly.”

She nodded, and he got up and walked down the steps to the computer core. The display read that it was ninety percent completed with activation. Did he want to commence the final sequence? Yes, he certainly did, despite the cost involved. With no small measure of trepidation, he keyed in the final commands and let the computer do its work; he had about thirty minutes more.
 * “What does it say?” asked the Matriarch.
 * “It wants to know if the final activation sequence should commence,” said Selu.
 * “Did you start it?” she asked.
 * “Yes,” he said.
 * “Good. Then come back and we’ll finish our game,” she said, her eyes glinting. “It won’t be long, I think.”
 * “No, probably not,” Selu said, a small bead of sweat trickling down the side of his head. He swallowed hard, then walked back up to the dais and sat himself down at the game table.
 * “Your move,” said the Matriarch.
 * “I know,” said Selu. It was decision time.

16

 * “Three, two, one, reversion,” called Jorge from the pilot’s chair.

He casually pulled the hyperdrive lever and the twisted tunnel of light that was hyperspace distorted and shifted until the stars returned to their usual points of light. Before them was a jade green and pale blue ball of a world orbiting calmly, several billion kilometers away. For a place that had spawned such ruthless creatures as the Mistryl Shadow Guard, it seemed fairly tranquil from orbit. Naturally, appearances could be deceiving though. The sensors vaguely showed evidence of orbital facilities and other vessels orbiting the world, but the distance was much too great to garner a more detailed idea of what was awaiting them.
 * “Emberlene,” breathed Milya softly from the co-pilot’s chair.
 * “That’s it,” Sarth confirmed. “Take us in, slowly,”
 * “Nice and easy, got it,” Jorge replied, goosing the sublights forward.

The Hawk-bat, as stealthily as it could manage, set a course towards Emberlene. Soon, the world filled the viewscreen and the orbital dockyards, defense platforms, and larger vessels that littered space above the atmosphere were visible as small dots against the greenish background. That proximity meant that they were soon to be detected and challenged. The next step, as they discussed it while in hyperspace, was to convince the planetary authorities to let them land on the planet. That was going to be tricky; a world at war was not typically one to welcome sojourners with anything other than paranoia and suspicion, but Milya had an angle to get around that.

As the freighter approached the world, a pair of sleek fighter craft was detected vectoring in on them.
 * “Unidentified freighter, state your identity and intent or be fired upon,” crackled the comm board, a female voice.

Spectre looked at Milya, who nodded and left the co-pilot’s position to take the captain’s chair. Once she was settled, Jorge re-routed the transmission to her station.
 * “This Captain Loska T’yrg of the independent pirate vessel Rancor’s Breath. Put me on a channel to your superiors,” she said haughtily.
 * “The only way my superiors will be seeing you is if a debris particle from your ship wanders by their viewscreens. Answer the question or be atomized,” replied the fighter pilot.
 * “All right then, fine. My crew and I heard that there was work to be had in the service of Emberlene. I was hoping to get some quick creds; work off some debts that I owe to some former business associates. I’ve already told you who we are.”
 * “Stand by, Rancor’s Breath. My superiors find your proposal amusing.”
 * “Tell them that they won’t find a better crew around the entire sector. We’ve got a lot of surprises.”

Milya’s answer was met with silence and she turned to look back at Jorge. This had been the best idea they had concocted but the Mistryl didn’t seem to be taking the bait. If their ruse was unsuccessful, it was time to get clear and jump to hyperspace, at least until they could determine a better approach. However, Sarth had warned them that their chances of infiltrating Emberlene diminished significantly with each failed attempt, to the point where they basically had one shot at gaining entrance.
 * “Man the guns,” Jorge said to Spectre and Cassi, who both disappeared down the corridor to the turret stations.
 * “Doesn’t look like they’re interested,” she said.
 * “Gotta sweeten the pot,” said Jorge. “Give them something else.”

Milya racked her brains trying to figure out what else they had to offer as a bargaining chip, but couldn’t come up with anything.
 * “The other Mistryl,” offered Sarth over the ship’s intercom. “Give them something about the other Mistryl who disappeared on Coruscant while trying to catch me.”
 * “Sorry about that, Emberlene control,” said Milya. “I was led to believe you had some interest in a pair of Shadow Guards who disappeared on Coruscant several months ago.”

There was another silence, but the fighters didn’t start shooting, and neither did the Dreadnaught near them. Milya’s hopes rose, as she figured that the added information would pique the Mistryl curiosity enough to grant them access to surface. Surely they would take the bait. Unfortunately, the Mistryl did not.
 * “My superiors aren’t interested, but they do seem to think you know more than what’s good for you. Looks like you’re outta luck, Rancor’s Breath,” replied the fighter pilot nastily.
 * “Guns!” called Jorge, following the order with a string of Corellian profanity.

A burst of red laser fire clipped the stern of the Hawk-bat, bouncing off of the shields, rocking the freighter. In response, the four concealed laser turrets quickly deployed and began sending a storm of return fire at the fighters as Jorge veered the ship into an evasive pattern. Other warships were beginning to take notice as well, and at least six more fighters were vectoring onto them. Things were not looking good so far.
 * “Karking rodders!” swore Jorge, rolling to dodge the six new arrivals, wincing at the sight of laser fire splashing across the forward shields.

Then one of the red dots on their tail winked out, a small data point informing him that Spectre’s turret had scored a kill. Now it was only seven-to-one, but the odds would only get worse. Jorge mentally reminded himself that Corellians had no use for odds even as a laser bolt impacted on the cockpit. If it wasn’t for the powerful energy shields ablating and absorbing the energy, he would have been completely vaporized. He shuddered and pushed that chilling thought away, concentrating on his flying. Throwing the freighter into a power dive, Jorge knew that there was no chance of evading all of the laser fire being sent at them in the slower, less maneuverable Hawk-bat. The most he could hope to do was to minimize their exposure and try to get them out of the system.
 * “We’ve got to get clear and jump,” he said on the intercom.
 * “What about Selu?” demanded Sarth from the engine room. “We can’t just leave him.”
 * “We either leave, or we die!” Jorge shot back. “There’s only fifty percent shields left and that’s dropping fast!”

The ship shuddered with another impact and some of the lights dimmed. A brief shower of sparks from behind Jorge told him one of the control circuits had just blown. He winced and swiftly re-routed the aft lower vector plate controls through another path.

As the laser bolts sparked off the shields or flashed by the cockpit, Jorge dove towards a sizable spacedock, skimming its surface and firing his forward lasers at it. While the laser bolts would have little effect on the mammoth space structure, they could possibly distract the pursuers by causing explosions or debris clouds to mask their path. As he pulled out of a dive less than twenty meters above the station, Jorge noted with some satisfaction that the laser cannon batteries mounted on the station were not firing at him, obviously concerned about hitting his pursuers inadvertently. While their avoiding of fratricide made good tactical sense, it also gave Jorge one less threat to worry about. Now, just to deal with those seven on his tail. And then it was six, as one of the fighters suffered a glancing hit from an automated turret. The pilot only lost control of the craft temporarily, but that was enough to send it careening into the spacedock in a small fireball that was quickly extinguished by the vacuum of space.

Jorge wove through one segment of the spacedock into another, executing his maneuvers with expert precision, but then looked up and his heart jumped into his throat. Jorge gasped as the gargantuan framework of some unfinished military vessel suddenly loomed before him. There was not nearly enough room to turn clear of it and they would crash in mere seconds. On reflex, he reached down and in one swift motion, armed and fired two proton torpedoes from the hidden launcher. The small explosive projectiles shot ahead of the ship on trails of cerulean fire to slam into the girder framework. The resulting explosion blew just enough of a rupture in the framework for Jorge to slip the Hawk-bat through, though just narrowly. As he sailed through the gap, he realized that the wingtips of the Hawk-bat were less than five meters from each wall. His hair and hands dripping with sweat, he peeled out and kicked the acceleration up as soon as they were clear, ignoring the profanity and exclamations from the other crew members from the near-collisions. He himself was too busy to contribute from his own considerable store of invective. Fortunately, another pair of his pursuers had been lost in the daring and foolhardy stunt, apparently not skilled enough to execute the timing needed to fly through the impromptu slot, even in smaller and more maneuverable craft.
 * “And Jorgesoll Knrr saves the day!” Jorge said triumphantly as the freighter gained on its pursuers, pulling out of the spacedock.

Then he realized why the fighters behind him were slowing, and he didn’t even need his sensor board. Heading straight for them was a full two more squadrons of fighters, ready and eager for the kill. He glanced at his shield diagnostic display and immediately wished he hadn’t.
 * “Oh, we are so karked,” he said.

Knowing that they would be on him in fifteen seconds, he determined to go out in a blaze of glory. Arming all torpedoes, he redlined the engines, intending on cutting a swathe through the fighters before their lasers converged and burned through the Hawk-bat. One fist raised defiantly towards his foes, he prepared for the impact of the lasers on the shields, waiting for the right time to pay out his remaining ordnance.

Less than five seconds from firing range, the fighters suddenly vectored and immediately turned away from the Hawk-bat, their headings outbound from the planet.
 * “What? They ran?” said Jorge aloud. “I don’t get it.”
 * “They’re not running from us,” said Cassi. “Look at the sensor board.”

Jorge looked down and saw that a huge mass of contacts had appeared inbound toward the system at high speed. A sizable fleet had just decanted from hyperspace and their arrival was apparently enough to distract all available craft off from chasing a mere pirate vessel.
 * “Who is that?” he asked.
 * “I haven’t the faintest idea,” she said. “But let’s get out of here while we still can.”
 * “No,” said Sarth. “Find a way down to the surface. We can hide there and try and rescue Selu.”
 * “That’s crazy! We’ll be killed,” said Jorge.
 * “No it’s not,” Sarth replied. “It’s the last thing they’ll expect us to do.”
 * “And if we head back out, we’ll have to fly through those contacts. If they’re hostile towards the Mistryl, we get killed by the crossfire as both sides vape each other in a giant space-brawl. If they’re not, then we still get killed, this time probably by our two dozen friends,” reminded Milya.
 * “You know, I’ve always wanted to see the surface of Emberlene,” said Jorge, turning the craft on a re-entry vector. The only remaining fire at them came from the lone persistent craft on their tail, but Spectre and Cassi poured enough fire at it that it too vanished in a messy explosion. Despite the occasional potshot taken at them but a station gunner, sometimes with capital warship class weaponry, most of the attention was focused on the inbound fleet, and Jorge easily dodged the smatter of energy bolts focused at them with minimal loss of shield integrity. Every available Mistryl ship and sensor was focused on the incoming vessels, and Jorge capitalized on the opportunity. Easing the Hawk-bat in, he prepared to enter the atmosphere.
 * “Wait!” said Milya. “Check sensors.”

Jorge did and noted that they were showing a hazy field of energy of great magnitude. materializing around the planet. Quickly, he hauled back on the controls, taking the Hawk-bat on a roughly tangential path to Emberlene’s atmosphere.
 * “Energy shields. Big ones too.”
 * “How do we get past those?” asked Cassi, coming forward to the cockpit with Spectre.
 * “The Mistryl will selectively raise and lower shield sectors to allow their defensive craft to launch,” said Spectre. “That’s standard procedure. All we have to do now is pretend to be a courier ship or something.”
 * “How do we do that?” replied Cassi.
 * “Just look official,” Jorge said. “This I can handle.”
 * “Milya and I will take to the fighters and fly cover. It’ll be easier for us to deal with Mistryl this way and will add some legitimacy to our story.”
 * “Roger,” said Jorge. “Sarth, set the guns to fire at anything besides those two craft.”
 * “Got it,” Sarth replied from the intercom.

As the two Eta-2s detached and split off from the Hawk-bat’s wingtips, Jorge held the freighter steady until the two fighters were clear. While both Spectre and Milya were trained in piloting, neither of them had served combat duty in starfighters, so he hoped their choice of vehicle wouldn’t end up in death for either of them as they undocked the fragile craft. They would both be needed on the surface, assuming they could get there.
 * “There’s one other thing,” said Jorge to Cassi, who was manning the sensor board.
 * “What’s that?”
 * “If we’re a Mistryl ship, then you have to be the captain. Their society seems driven by females. So if the Mistryl comm us, you have to answer.”
 * “Oh great,” she said.
 * “Just do your best, fake it or something.”
 * “Too late now, I suppose,” she said. “I’ll give it a shot.”
 * “Great,” said Jorge. “You’ll do fine.”
 * “I’m sure,” she muttered sarcastically.

Within minutes, Jorge had located a launching point for squadrons of fighters streaming from airbases in a major urban center. Immediately, he headed straight for it, skirting the edges of the atmosphere.
 * “Call them up,” said Jorge. “Give them a distress signal.”
 * “What?” said Cassi.
 * “Do it!” he said, activating yet another of the Hawk-bat’s fake transponder and sensor signature profiles.
 * “Emberlene Control, this is the courier ship Hand of the Shadow. We were on an important mission, but have sustained casualties. We need a landing vector immediately,” Cassi said uncertainly, using an audio-only feed on an open frequency.
 * “Copy that, Shadow. Do you require escort?” replied the brusque voice of an aerospace controller.
 * “No, we received one already, but it is imperative that we report in on the status of our mission to our superiors, and in person.”
 * “What is the nature of your mission? You are not listed under expected vessels.”
 * “Our timetable was thrown off by, uh, extenuating circumstances,” she said. “It was a highly, uh, classified mission and you are not authorized to know of it. You wouldn’t have even known that we were here if we hadn’t sustained damage. That’s why our transponder reading is abnormal.”
 * “In that case, stand by,” said Control.
 * “I think it’s working,” said Cassi to Jorge with a bit more certainty.
 * “Fabulous,” he said, then added under his breath. “It better.”
 * “Shadow, this is Control. We’ll have a window open for you in the shields, but make it quick. Come to heading one-one-three-eight and wait until the shield gap. Do you know which facility you are expected to land at?”
 * “What do you think?” Cassi replied. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Then, to Jorge, she whispered, “I sure hope it is.”
 * “Ah, understood, Shadow. The special operations hangar has been notified of your arrival.”
 * “Uh, thank you Control,” said Cassi, then she continued somewhat sheepishly. “We are traveling without a standard coordinate database for security, so would you mind giving us the landing coordinates?”
 * “No problem,” said Control with a snicker, but at least they sent her the data.
 * “Thank you,” said Cassi. “We will pass on our commendations of you to our superiors when we report.”
 * “Make it fast, Shadow. Looks like a storm is coming. Control out.”
 * “So they are hostile,” said Jorge after Cassi deactivated the transmission.
 * “Yes, but to whom?” called in Spectre from the sleek Eta-2 starfighter covering the starboard side of the Hawk-bat.

Jorge didn’t know the answer to that, so he simply flew the ship along the provided heading, watching for signs of a trap, but the Mistryl had apparently bought their story for now. Hoping that they were on the right course, he waited for shield window. As the energy field dissipated, releasing half a dozen gunboats waiting below to soar into the dark void of space to confront the mysterious arrivals, he spiraled the Hawk-bat through the gap, the two escort fighters tucked in beside him, and down into the atmosphere of Emberlene.
 * Emberlene surface
 * “Your move,” said the Matriarch again.
 * “Right,” said Selu, lifting his hand towards the board.
 * “Matriarch!” shouted an acolyte as she burst into the room. “We are under attack!”
 * “What?” Palla said, rising from her seat.
 * “A massive fleet has entered the system! They are heading straight for us!” the messenger stammered.
 * “Who are they?” said Palla.
 * “Unknown, Matriarch. There a variety of different ship classes, but not recognizable.”
 * “Have all the commanders and the other Matriarchs been alerted?” Palla asked.
 * “Yes-yes, Mistress.”
 * “Good. Then we shall leave the defense to those qualified to lead it, at least for now. The shield keeps us safe here. However, make sure the generators are doubly guarded and instruct the Shadow Guard to prevent enemy agents from sabotaging them or causing other damage,” Palla ordered.
 * “As you wish, Matriarch,” said the acolyte, who hurriedly bowed and scampered out of the hall to carry out her orders.
 * “I trust none of you had anything to do with this?” said Palla, directing her gaze to Zan Arbor and Selu. “The penalty would be most severe.”
 * “No, Mistress,” said Jenna Zan Arbor, looking up from her workstation.
 * “I had nothing to do with the fleet,” said Selu calmly.

Truthfully, he had no idea where they had come from or who they were. The Devaronian agent of Car’das’s had said something about dealing with the Mistryl, but an unknown battle fleet had never entered the equation and Selu didn’t know their identities. Selu had rather suspected it would be the Empire who came to pacify the Mistryl, but hadn’t honestly expected a fleet to arrive so quickly. He thought about using the Force to help muddle Palla’s mind to lessen her chances of piercing his deception, but decided it against it suddenly upon seeing Palla’s action.

Palla turned to look at the acolyte behind her, the one who had brought the game board in and then stood there the entire time, who nodded slowly. Then Selu felt it- a Force probe. Whoever that person was, she was obviously Force-sensitive and trained enough to probe his emotions from head to toe. He quickly withdrew the remaining presence he had held in the Force until he appeared to be nothing more than slightly more sensitive than the average human and projected feelings of confusion and shock into his emotions. The subtle nudges he had been given to not use the Force made sense now, but the presence of another Force user complicated things greatly. Was she a Jedi? Selu didn’t think so, but he dared not use the Force to find out. Was she a Sith? Selu figured that even keeping his presence damped, he would have detected that sense of palpable dark side evil, but the Jedi Council had been blind to the presence of Sith on Coruscant for years. If it was a Sith, then he was certainly doomed. Whoever it was, her presence meant that his plan was shattered if she caught on to his lie, and quite possibly even if she didn’t. However, the probe finally passed, leaving him, and he breathed a little easier.

However, the presence of the fleet meant that it was time to execute the final stage in the plan. Reaching down to the gameboard, he made his move, sending his kintan strider forward, where it was undefended and in the midst of her pieces. It was a sacrifice move, a seemingly inane move that would cost him his most powerful remaining monster. However, a true dejarik master would note that taking advantage of the unprotected position would lay all her other pieces vulnerable to a devastating counterattack. The move had been in existence for millennia, and Selu was very conscious of the fact that he was, in fact, the kintan strider piece in the struggle between his family and the Mistryl, and that he had just been sacrificed. It wasn’t just a game.
 * “Your move,” he told her, his eyes sparkling and his tone challenging. “I want to finish this game.”
 * “Interesting,” Palla said, rising and walking closer, both to him and the game table. “The kintan strider death gambit. Masterfully played indeed, but I gave you no other choice if you wanted to win. And you do, don’t you?”
 * “Of course I play to win,” he said, layering surprised tones into his voice. “That’s the point of the game.”
 * “And the higher the stakes of victory, the greater the victory, right?” she said sweetly.
 * “Absolutely,” he said.

Suddenly, he was aware of the fact that two of the acolytes were standing on his right side, having silently walked in from alcoves upon some hidden signal. Their presence might not mean much to a scientist, but to a trained warrior, everything about the way they stood and carried themselves screamed that they were ready for action.
 * “It has been fun indeed, Sarth Kraen, but this game is over. You have lost.”

Selu noted out of the corner of his eye that the two acolytes flanking him had drawn rather nasty-looking blaster pistols and were now pointing them at him.
 * “I don’t think so,” Selu said.
 * “It wasn’t just about the dejarik, you know,” she said. “Here I had hoped you would have seen that. How disappointing.”
 * “Believe me, I know,” said Selu. “And you’re right about one thing: The game is over.”

The Force came back to him in a rush as he opened himself to its refreshing currents of energy once more. Noting the locations of the two Mistryl who had drawn their blasters and were now pointing them at him, he let the surge of energy flow through his hand as he stretched out his arm towards them. The Force push slammed both of them into the back wall of the room with an audible slap, and they both collapsed limply, the weapons clattering on the stone floor from nerveless fingers.
 * “You,” Palla spat venomously, her arms working.
 * “Jedi,” hissed the lone handmaiden who still stood by the Matriarch’s side.
 * “Take care of this,” said Palla. “Do it quickly.”
 * “As you wish,” the handmaiden replied.

Selu was already in motion, flicking both his hands towards the cargo cylinder. When he and Spectre had examined it prior to his surrender, they had both noticed that a thick layer of some heavy metal had been placed around the inner workings of the core, apparently to shield it from scans. After some minor tinkering with the core’s housing, he had found that there was enough room to place a special package that would be concealed from scans by the heavy metal jacket, yet still be easily accessible when he needed it. He had deployed both the hatch to his package upon starting the final activation sequence, and now he summoned it to his hands.

However, the other handmaiden moved first, her hand impossibly fast, and only a quick flash of precognition gave Selu enough warning to leap back as a brilliant red blade of energy pierced through Palla’s chest, nearly stabbing through his breastbone as well. Only his quick motion saved his life, but the ridiculously hot point of the blade still seared his chest. As she withdrew the blade, Palla crumpled to the ground, her eyes widened in pain and disbelief, mortally wounded.
 * “I swore that I would make you pay for what you did to me. You said I would be yours when you found me, but you never held sway over me. Did I take care of you fast enough?” said the acolyte, her voice pure malice.

As she spoke, Selu recovered his balance and straightened, his lightsaber and shoto slapping into his hand. Looking up, he saw that the hood had fallen from the acolyte’s head, revealing her face for the first time, and what he saw made his blood run cold in his veins.

She was tall and lithe, her skull completely bare save for tattoos running along the sides of her temples. Her visage was scarred and battleworn, and everything about her stance and countenance told him that this was a deadly killer. Her blue eyes glittered with hatred and she smiled slightly at the sight of the fear written across his face.
 * “Asajj Ventress,” Selu said.
 * “Alive and in person,” she said, still smiling.

Selu knew of Asajj all right. One of Count Dooku’s dark acolytes during the war, Asajj Ventress had been one of three most feared commanders of the Confederacy. She had personally killed several prominent Jedi and had been involved in the deaths of many more. Skilled and ruthless, she had crossed sabers with luminaries such as Obi-Wan Kenobi more than once throughout the Clone Wars and survived, even besting Jedi Council member Kit Fisto on Ord Cestus.

Lighting both his saber and shorter bladed shoto, Selu set himself in guard stance of Ataru, altered to allow him to use a weapon in both hands, for the first time in many months. Asajj drew her second, wickedly-curved handled lightsaber from her belt and lit both of them, the two red blades backlit against the wall and arrayed against the long and short green blades. Words were unnecessary; these two, polar opposites in the Force, were destined to do battle, and nothing could sway the other from that choice. They stood there like that, framed for an instant, staring at the other as if trying see into the other’s mind, and then battle was joined as they both sprang to the attack.

The other Mistryl in the room, though initially struck with shock by the rapid change of events, soon came to their senses and, unsure of whom to attack, charged both of them. However, Selu and Asajj were already on a battle plane above mere mortals. Guided by the Force, their blades struck at each other, parrying blaster bolts or incinerating throwing knives on each backstroke. Lunge met parry, feint met counterattack. The two red blades scythed towards Selu again and again, and time after time, he evaded or blocked the attacks, each combatant giving or gaining ground in turn. Selu blocked both of Asajj’s sabers in close between them with own two blades, timing it so that a Mistryl-thrown razor would decapitate Asajj and end the fight quickly. In response, Asajj quickly recognized the trap, shoving him backwards and disengaging her weapons to spin towards the knife. Selu quickly slashed in a defensive form in front of him lest she follow up the blow, but her attention was diverted for a brief instant. Selu’s trapping of her arms had delayed her enough so that the hurled weapon penetrated her guard and sliced her upper arm, but failed to do any more damage then draw blood.

Snarling with anger and pain, she blocked his quick follow-up blow and followed it up with a Force shove that sent him sliding across the floor to bash the back of skull painfully against the wall. If he hadn’t slowed his velocity with the Force, it was possible that the bone would have shattered, but even still, the impact caused him to see stars. As he scrambled to his feet, Asajj leapt through the air like a bird of prey, blaster bolts ricocheting from her twin blades, but not toward him. As she landed, she quickly sliced through the three or four Mistryl who had been attacking the two Force-users, sending them flying to the ground in three or four pieces as limbs fell from bodies, heads fell from necks, and two halves of a torso hit the stone floor with a steaming slap. Selu noted with no small satisfaction that Helsi seemed to have lost her head, but this was no time for indulging in such distractions, so he put the thought out of his mind.

Selu vaulted towards her as she turned towards the last Mistryl, but Asajj was ready for him. Selu’s danger sense sparked, and he jumped up in mid-air as Palla’s throne lifted off the ground and sailed beneath him at high velocity, fueled by her telekinetic will. His feet just barely scraped the bottom of it instead of it slamming into him, but Asajj found a use for the chair despite its failure to hit Selu. The throne barreled into the last Mistryl, who had been crouching in a sharpshooter’s pose at the back end of the room and vainly firing a blaster rifle at the elusive Dark Jedi. The momentum of the throne was such that, although a final blaster bolt splintered the Fijisi wood backing, it rammed into the Mistryl and went kept going. The result was the throne and the Mistryl went flying through the stained glass window at the end of the hall, shattering the window into crystalline shards and falling to disintegrate on the ground several dozen meters below. No one even noticed Jenna Zan Arbor, who had found cover and observed the entire battle thus far, flee through a side hall. Selu and Asajj were too busy to care.

With the other Mistryl dealt with, Asajj returned her full attention to Selu and their blades clashed once more. However, slaying the Mistryl had only seemed to enhance Asajj’s form, and she pushed Selu back into a corner, his parries just barely fending off her advances. However, just before she could push him back and corner him, he leapt back and bounced his legs off of the wall to vault over her head and land behind her, striking as he flew through the air. She was waiting for the blow to fall, but he followed it up with a furious counterattack, immersing himself fully into the Ataru form. It was a fast, powerful style of combat that involved quickly engaging an adversary from a variety of angles, until their defense was overwhelmed. Properly used, Ataru could be devastating effective, particularly against a single opponent that the practitioner could concentrate all his efforts against, battering down their guard and approaching from unanticipated directions. It was also exhausting if used in a prolonged duel.

Selu pushed Asajj back, his sabers hissing and sparking as they made contact with her crimson blades, and twice he penetrated her guard. The first time, his blade lanced across the side of her head, but while the slight burn seemed to anger her, Seleu knew that there was no real harm done. The second time, he attacked high and brought her blades up only to knock her legs out from under her with a low, sweeping kick. That time, he had run his blade along her other arm, but again, the injury was minor. Though he was pushing her back, keeping her too occupied to counterattack, he was aware that his advance was slowing. He couldn’t land a lethal blow and once his strength ebbed, she would counterattack. Desperately, he called on the Force even more, hurling dropped vibroblades or datapads or anything else lying around at her even as he attacked, but Asajj dodged or parried the weapons each time. As Selu mentally grabbed and hurled a datapad to hit her between the shoulder blades while slashing at her head, Asajj blocked his slash and spun outside, the butt of her other saber striking his arm. Stunned, Selu was distracted just enough to not expect the datapad he had summoned missing its intended target and striking him in the solar plexus with the exact effect he had planned for Asajj.

Falling back, unable to breathe, he batted away her first few blows, but she knew he was vulnerable now and wouldn’t let him recover. Her swift strikes beat down his guard, and each sloppy block left him with another graze. Pulling in close, she gave him a vicious head butt, and then followed it up with an elbow to his already bruised ribs even as they blocked each others’ sabers out wide with both arms. Selu was ready, though. Dropping his shoto, he struck at her midsection and connected, doubling the Dark Jedi over. Ducking and rolling to avoid her counter-slash, he came up with both his saber and shoto, ready to continue the fight, when suddenly Asajj struck hard, her blades slicing low and beneath his own. One particularly forceful blow knocked his shoto out of his hand and he had no chance to recover it as she kept coming. Selu leapt back into a somersault and over one scarlet blade while keeping his lightsaber held across his body to protect against a follow-up strike, but his left foot was slow jumping over the second blade and it sliced across the back of his calf.

A massive burst of pain exploded in his calf and raced up his leg in a shockwave of agony. Instead of landing on both feet from the rearward aerial maneuver, his injured leg collapsed beneath and he fell backwards ungracefully to land on his back. The Dark Jedi smiled and Selu could feel the dark sider gleefully preparing to kill him. Her next set of attacks knocked his lightsaber from his weakened grip, sending it flying across the room with a clang as it hit a pillar and fell to the floor.
 * “Come on, Jedi,” she taunted, blood dripping from a cut on the side of her head. “Is that all you’ve got?”

With her lightsabers held high over head, she swung one final blow at Selu that would open him up from throat to groin. Selu called upon his last reserves of strength for one last burst of Force power and both his lightsaber and shoto flew back to him through the air and ignited, forming a cross of green energy in mid-air that blocked her strike and would have continued by slicing through Asajj. However, catlike, she whipped her body and up and over the whirling blades, a Force nudge of her own sending them flying out to land near the stained glass window. As she landed above his head though, Selu, his skin and cells almost burning from overexerting himself in the Force, jumped to his feet facing her and opened himself to an esoteric Force technique that Plo Koon had taught him without the auspices of the Jedi Council. His eyes glowed with energy and the tang of ozone filled the air. Selu could feel the currents flowing through him as he summoned as much of the Force to him as he could manage for this last, desperate technique. Known as Electric Judgment, it turned the Force into strands of brilliant energy similar to the dark-side Sith lightning; indeed many Jedi feared that the technique was too close to Force lightning.

The currents of green Force energy slammed into Ventress and raced up and down her body, electrocuting her and sending her flying twenty meters backward, but even as Selu, his face contorted with pain and the effort of continuing such a draining technique, sent the bolts shooting into her, he noted that her sabers parried the energy mid-air, diverting and absorbing the energy. The Force burned through his body, and he could feel the heat and residual effects racing up his arm even as he hurled the bolts of pure Force power at the dark one. Then she landed, and Selu could maintain it no longer. That was the last weapon in his arsenal, and she knew it. Utterly drained, he still held out his hand and twitching fingers numbly, but no more energy emerged from the tips of his smoking fingers.
 * “It’s over for you,” said Ventress, walking forward. “You are finished.”

Then Selu felt the pressure on the blood vessels in his neck and brain, felt his feet lift off of the ground, and was helpless to do anything about it. While the technique for blocking such Force assaults was relatively simple, in his weakened state he was defenseless and they both knew it. She slammed him to the ground on his face with bruising impact, but released the pressure. Fighting against the pain shooting across his face, against the sensation that his head would explode, he got to his knees somehow, trying to stand, to armor himself against this dark malevolent being. Again, she squeezed on his blood vessels and slammed him to the ground, this time even harder, and Selu heard the crunch of his nose breaking. There was a scream of pain and Selu recognized that it was his, his vocal chords hoarse from the involuntary sound and the knives of agony reminding him of his fractured ribs. He coughed and spat up blood, gasping for breath. Looking up, he saw Asajj smiling maliciously, walking towards him with both of her sabers at the ready and knew that he was completely, utterly dead.
 * Freighter Hawk-bat
 * “Set it down there,” said Sarth, indicating a docking bay next to a monolithic skyscraper jutting from the cityscape.

Jorge complied, but suddenly a group of Mistryl came running out of a doorway, brandishing weapons. Apparently they had taken issue with his flat disregard of all instructions and transmissions from the docking bay control. Not every Mistryl was too distracted to notice his brazen landing. Thankfully, whatever was going on above them in orbit had distracted virtually all other Mistryl resources away from them, or else they would have been dead a thousand times over. A laser turret traversed to track the Hawk-bat, but one pass from Spectre’s and Milya’s fighters blew it to pieces. However, the group of Mistryl on the ground was carrying blaster rifles, and if they got into position, they could flank anyone trying to disembark from the vessel. Jorge tried to traverse the freighter around to hit them with his nose laser cannons, but the damaged control surfaces and repulsorlifts were sluggish. Suddenly, a laser cannon bolt lanced out from one of the Hawk-bat’s lower turrets into the Mistryl and those that weren’t vaporized by the blast went flying and didn’t get up. A second blast from the turret hit the doorway, melting through the security door and another pair of guards.
 * “Gotcha!” said Cassi from the turret controls.
 * “Good shooting!” said Sarth, somewhat surprised at her fierceness.

After one more pass to make sure there was no further resistance, Spectre and Milya set their two starfighters down next to the Hawk-bat and clambered out of the craft, the ex-trooper in full armor and Milya in some sort of Echani light battle gear, their respective weapons ready. Spectre had his customary WESTAR-M5 blaster rifle and sidearm, while Milya had her vibroblade and Selu’s pistol.

As soon as the boarding ramp was down, Sarth was on his way out to join the two others on the floor of the docking bay.
 * "Stay with the ship,” Sarth told Jorge and Cassi. “We’ll be right back.”
 * “But,” Cassi started to protest.
 * “No time to argue. If we’re not back in ten minutes, take off and get out of here. D’you hear me? Leave!” he said.
 * “I love you,” she said. “Come back.”

Sarth stopped from buckling the gun belt around his waist.
 * “I love you too,” he said, kissing her quickly. “I’ll be back, but if I’m not, don’t wait.”

And then he was off down the boarding ramp of the still idling Hawk-bat, running to catch up with Spectre and Milya.
 * “So what’s the plan?” he shouted over the noise of the freighter’s engines. “How do we find Selu?”
 * “I have no idea,” said Milya.
 * “Look out! Company!” called Spectre, and all three of them dove behind one of the starfighter nacelles as a pair of Mistryl sprung out into the docking bay area, blaster rifles blazing in attempt to flank them. Spectre and Milya quickly took pinned them down with suppression fire, but their position was rapidly becoming untenable.

Then there was a crashing sound from above, and they looked up to see a sizable wooden chair and a body shatter through an upper level of the stained glass window that dominated the side of the skyscraper to land on the ground below and disintegrate. The distraction of the falling objects was enough time for Spectre and Milya to put down the two flanking guards with tight, controlled bursts.
 * “There wasn’t any explosion to knock that out of that window. That means Selu’s up there,” said Sarth grimly. “I’m going in. Are you with me?”

Both Milya and Spectre nodded.
 * “Run for the door; lay down covering fire; there might be more of them,” said Spectre.

The trio took off running for the main entrance, firing at any guards hiding in the doorway whenever they could. The sporadic return fire told them that hostiles were still present, but Spectre’s and Milya’s, and to a lesser extent Sarth’s cover fire prevented too many blaster bolts from sizzling their way. When they were about thirty meters from the door, Spectre hurled a smoke grenade into the doorway. The resulting cloud of thick smoke obscured them from view, but it also hindered his companions. Able to see thanks to the sensors in his helmet, Spectre rushed forward and put down the last guard with a body blow and vibroknuckler punch. Blinded by the smoke, she didn’t have a chance to resist and succumbed to his lethal, efficient strikes. Running back outside, he grabbed Sarth and Milya and hauled them both inside the building.
 * “Hurry,” he said. “Turbovator, over there. Get in while it’s still clear.”
 * “Wait just a minute,” said Sarth, spying something out of the corner of his eye as he entered the building. “I have an idea.”

Selu Kraen, having struggled to his knees once more, waited for the final blow. Part of him wondered how long Asajj would torture him, but Jedi did not know pain, or so it was said. He had no more resistance to offer; he just wished she would end it soon. The look in her eyes told him that he about to have that wish granted.
 * “Stop right there,” said a new voice off to his side.

Selu turned to see his brother, Spectre, and Milya, all with weapons at the ready.
 * “Get out of here,” he said hoarsely. “You can’t stand against her.”
 * “You’re right,” said Sarth, with a gleam in his eye and a datapad in his hand. “But these can.”

There was metallic rumbling sound, and wheeling into view rolled a pair of droidekas. Grinding to a stop on either side of Selu, they unfolded into their tripod-legged combat stances, four pairs of blasters tracking Ventress. She snarled an animal snarl of rage, but the droidekas had deployed flanking Selu; if she finished him off first, they would gun her down. There would be a time for this Kraen later- it was time to make good her escape. Asajj quickly dug her lightsabers into the floor below, carving a circle out of the floor in less than a second. As the first blaster bolts fired from the droidekas, she and the stone plug she was standing on dropped down into the inky blackness. Stung and humiliated, she slipped off into the night. Never before had mere droids managed to best her, and while she had been defeated before, this latest one angered her more than the others. However, the dark side had called her away from the battleground and told her to take flight and so she withdrew. Following her instincts, she summoned the power of the dark side to her and sped through the city like a whirlwind, her blades extinguished, and once again cloaked and hooded. As Asajj disappeared to plunge down several stories, Selu lost his balance, tottered, and collapsed on the floor.
 * “Selu!” cried Sarth, running up to his brother, the other two following behind.
 * “Sarth . . . what are you doing here?” Selu asked weakly.
 * “I’m here to rescue you,” said Sarth.
 * “Check . . . core first,” he said.
 * “Core? What core?”

Selu weakly pointed off towards the large cylinder and Sarth ran off to investigate it, Spectre following with weapon at the ready to protect him.
 * “What’s it do, Selu?” called Sarth over his shoulder.
 * “Knock out the planetary shield- should be ‘bout done,” said Selu, as Milya knelt down beside him.

Sarth immediately began tapping keys and examining the core, growing increasingly worried. While he believed Selu, everything about this piece of machinery made no sense. A quick diagnostic and a fast hacking sequence later, the real configuration and purpose of the cylinder was made clear to him.
 * “Selu, did you activate this thing?” he asked.
 * “Yes, already launched final activation sequence,” Selu said.

Sarth turned back to look at him, and his face turned ghostly white.
 * “This is no ordinary computer core,” he said. “It’s a giant time bomb.”
 * “What?” said Selu, incredulous.
 * “How much time is left?” asked Spectre.
 * “About a minute,” said Sarth.
 * “Get the ship up here now!” screamed Milya into her comlink.

Spectre leapt forward and scooped up Selu in a fireman’s carry as Sarth and Milya began running for the end of the hall. As more Mistryl appeared from the hallways near the dais and began firing at the fleeing figures, the Hawk-bat lifted off the ground and floated on a cushion of repulsorlifts up to the window. Angling the ship so its main cargo ramp was extended parallel to the floor of the building, Jorge held the ship there and waited. Leaping out through the hole in the window first, Milya flew through the air first, followed by Sarth, and finally Spectre and Selu. Spectre just barely managed to make it, his chest and Selu’s leg slamming into the edge of the boarding ramp. Milya and Sarth hauled both of them onboard and they scrambled into the belly of the ship as Jorge accelerated away.

As soon as the ramp was up, Jorge redlined the sublights, sending them streaking across the sky, clawing for altitude. As the rescue party reached the cockpit, the whole ship was shaken by the force of a shockwave sweeping across the city. A brilliant white fireball blossomed in the building as the bomb detonated. Spectre noted that the shield relays, apparently controlled from in or near that structure, had gone offline, and that Emberlene was now defenseless aside from whatever strength was already in orbit. Sure enough, in space, the already beleaguered Mistryl lines wavered and then broke as ship after ship poured past them to inflict damage on their world.

However, even as the Hawk-bat shot into the sky, all Selu could do was to stare blankly back at the mushroom-shaped fireball rising into the sky. The explosion momentarily even blotted the slowly rising sun of Emberlene. A new day and a darker era was about to dawn on the Mistryl, and he was responsible for it.
 * “Looks like an old-fashioned nuclear fission weapon,” Spectre said. “Pretty large yield, too. The radiation off of those is deadly, especially in an urban area.”
 * “It’s my fault,” murmured Selu.

As air strikes from the attackers began to exploit the suddenly defenseless world, causing additional fires to rage on the planet, Selu could do nothing but feel the disturbances in the Force from all the dead and dying and know that it was his fault. The giant fireball was soon complimented by dozens and then hundreds of other explosions and fires as justice and retribution were meted out on the warmongering planet with a vengeance.
 * “What have I done?” he said.

Then his vision swam before him and he collapsed onto the deck.

17
Milya glanced down at the man lying unconscious on the bed she was sitting on, hooked up to the meager life support equipment available on the ship. Gently, she stroked his arm, amazed that he was still alive. The injuries he had sustained would have been enough to kill another man, but Selu continued to breathe, though at this rate, he might not survive the trip through hyperspace to Commenor. What was most disturbing though was that his heart-rate monitor showed that his heartbeat was steadily weakening. As her fingers touched his arm, his eyes fluttered open and she realized that he was awake.
 * “Hey,” she said. “How are you feeling?”

Selu stared at her for a moment, as if trying to remember who she was.
 * “All those people dead,” he croaked. “All my fault.”

It took her a second, but then Milya realized that Selu blamed himself for the detonation of the nuclear weapon on Emberlene and the subsequent attacks on the planet.
 * “No, no, it’s not your fault,” she said. “You didn’t know.”
 * “Doesn’t make it right,” he said. “I can’t live knowing- knowing that I killed them.”
 * “You didn’t do it to kill civilians, Selu. You did it for your brother. For your family. That was a good thing,” she said.
 * “No. It can’t be,” he said. “You don’t understand. Just leave . . . alone.”

The words hurt Milya, but she slowly got up. Perhaps it was best if she tried not to upset him too much. However, as she stood in the doorway, she realized what was happening. Selu’s injuries alone couldn’t account for his degenerating condition, unless he no longer bothered to cling to life at all. By all rights, a man of his stamina should be able to recover. No, he was sending her away so he could die and that epiphany halted her like a stun blast. She turned back on him.
 * “Don’t do it, Selu,” she said.
 * “Do what?” he replied, with the same faint, hoarse voice.
 * “I know you don’t feel like living anymore, that the guilt is consuming you,” she said. “You can’t let that happen to you.”
 * “Why not?” Selu said. “Look what I’ve done.”
 * “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “There is nothing you can do to bring them back, Selu, but throwing your life away is pointless.”
 * “Justice,” said Selu through clenched teeth. “For murder. And punishment for crimes against the galaxy. I deserve it.”
 * “No,” she said. “Not judgment. That’s not the way.”

His response was just to stare at her.
 * “You have to let go,” she said. “Forgive yourself.”
 * “I can’t do that. A million people just died because of me.”
 * “Yes, you can, because nothing you can do will bring them back, Selu. If I could learn to forgive, you can too.”
 * “What are you talking about?”
 * “Selu, believe me when I say that I hated the Sun Guards who killed my parents. I wished they would die a thousand slow deaths every day. I hated my life and I hated myself. They took everything from me, Selu- every kriffing thing- in front of my very eyes and then they took my life too. They didn’t physically kill me- that would have been too easy. Instead, they claimed me as their own. It took me sixteen years to stop hating, stop brooding. That was when my adopted Sun Guard mother Fini found me when I was hiding after being beaten by some of the other trainees, crying and hurting and ashamed. She taught me to forgive my enemies, Selu, and forgive myself, and by then I could finally learn to love my adopted parents, while I still had them.”
 * “How could you?”
 * “Because there was no other way I could live, and I wasn’t ready to die. I know that I’m still alive for a reason and I want to learn what it is. Dying is the easy way out; it’s the cop-out. Do you want that?”
 * “It hurts to live,” said Selu.
 * “As Mama Fini told me, sometimes pain is how we know that we’re alive. Your family needs you. Your ship needs you. And—“
 * “Yes?”
 * “I need you. You’ve done so much for me already by giving me a place here,” she said, a tear slowly trickling down her face. “Don’t give up on us now.”

Selu closed his eyes for a moment; his pain-racked senses insignificant compared with the inner conflict raging within him. His Jedi training, his past experiences, they all weighed in on the decision, but in the end, he was free to choose for himself. Everything she said made perfect sense, but there was a part of him that knew he was guilty, that he deserved at the very least to die. Jedi were responsible for saving life, for protecting it, and he had just caused the incineration and irradiation of countless beings on Emberlene. Ignorance of the plan was no excuse; he had accepted the Car’das offer willingly, partially to pay the Mistryl back for what they had done to his family, and he had enjoyed that prospect too. While it wasn’t the most purposefully wrong transgression he’d made, it was certainly the greatest in terms of lives lost. From what he could tell, their entire world was burning, being destroyed by others, but only because of what he had done.

Still, he ached with the pain, and knew that the burden was too much to bear. If he let his guilt remain, it would consume him. Forgiving himself for what he had done was the only possible process to allow healing, and he knew it. While the Jedi had been the guardians of justice, they had also sought to display compassion to others. Could he extend some of that same grace towards himself? Selu simply wasn’t sure, but he knew that he should. He felt the sensation as Milya’s tear dripped off of her face and splashed on his arm, the salt water cool to the touch, and at that nanosecond, Selu knew she was right and made his decision.
 * “All right,” he said slowly. “I can let it go, forgive myself for- for everything.”
 * “Oh, Selu,” Milya said. “I know you can do it.”
 * “And we’ll be right here with you,” said Sarth, standing in the doorway.

Selu looked up and saw that the entire crew was clustered around, looking in on him with concern in their eyes.
 * “The cap’n would have your guts for garters if you gave up on us,” said Jorge.
 * “Don’t leave me now, brother,” said Sarth. “We’re just getting started.”

Cassi just smiled at him concernedly.
 * “That’s not how we got off of Boz Pity,” said Spectre. “I thought Jedi were smarter and tougher than that.”

Considering his background, that was about as emotionally expressive as an ARC could get.

Selu felt a wave of gratitude and awe wash over him at the thought of so many people caring if he lived or died. Recovery from these traumatic experiences would not be easy, but he could do it, could get on with his life. Milya was right: life was too short to be mired in regret forever. Only by crossing out the deeds of his past and continuing in the light could he remain certain in his purposes. His friends and family would be there to help him, and he would be there for them. While he would never forget what had happened on Emberlene- the image was embedded with holographic clarity in his mind- in time, he would able to recall how it changed him and allowed him to grow as a person. For now, he tried to express his sentiments as best he could, but only a pair of syllables came out.
 * “Thank you.”

As he said that, Milya noted that the heart-rate monitor was pulsing steadily, and she smiled. It would be far from easy, but she knew that Selusda Kraen was going to pull through.
 * Commenor, one week later

Waiting in the cozy Munto restaurant, Sarth Kraen casually sipped his drink, trying to will away the anticipation rising within him. He had been waiting for this moment for many days now, and now it was so close. Beside him, resplendent in a new shimmering light blue dress, Cassi noticed him fidgeting and smiled.
 * “Don’t worry, Sarth. They’ll be here soon.”
 * “I know,” he replied, but that didn’t really help.

Seated around the table, he couldn’t help but take in the faces of his friends. They were all here, it seemed. Spectre, Jorge, Milya, Cassi, and a newly recovered Annita Daowot were all sitting around a comfortable table tucked away in the corner of the restaurant.

Sarth had been concerned at first about tension between Cassi and Annita when he had suggested that she come to the party, but Cassi had told him that her jealousy had been petty and apologized, surprising him. Now they were sitting around the table, chatting as if there had never been an issue between them. Sarth didn’t know how that had come about, but Cassi and Annita had had a talk and apparently settled matters between them. Furthermore, Sarth had spoken with Annita regarding Selu, and she had understood, promising to keep their secret despite the potential ramifications of that choice. She had said it was the least she could do to repay him and his crew for all they had done. Sarth had trusted her before, but apparently whatever Annita had gone through in the past few days had made her much more amenable to him. However it had come about, Sarth couldn’t help but be pleased by the outcome. Taking Cassi’s hand in his, he smiled and waited. He was soon rewarded by Jorge’s observation.
 * “Here they are!”

Sarth turned and saw Selu, newly released from the medcenter, along with Lena and Samtel, walking into the restaurant. They made their way through the maze of crowded tables slowly until the reached the group’s table. As they took their seats and ordered, Selu readily accepted the chorus of greetings and welcome backs he received from his friends and family.

As they ate, they had no serious or weighty conversation, unwilling to discuss graver matters that would disrupt their relaxation. Being able to completely blot out any concerns hanging over their heads was a welcomed balm after weeks of stress and uncertainty. Finally, only after the remnants of a fine repast were cleared away and only the second or third round of drinks remained, did their conversation slip into matters of greater significance. After all the stories were told, and the loose ends were wrapped up until everyone understood what was going on, Samtel leaned in and posed a question.
 * “So, what lies in the future for the Hawk-bat now?” said Samtel.
 * “I’d expect that would depend on her captain,” said Sarth, looking at Jorge.
 * “Why do you look at me for?” said Jorge. “I’m not the captain.”
 * “But I thought since Cap’n R’hask is- well- gone, that you’d take over,” said Sarth.
 * “Once upon a time, I would have thought as you did,” said Jorge. “But watching the cap’n go out like that and me not saving him, I couldn’t take his place after leaving him like that. That’s not what a captain does for his crew. I’m just not cut out for it.”
 * “So what are you going to do, Jorge? The ship’s yours legally,” Selu put in.
 * “I personally am going to stay here on Commenor,” he said. “I heard there were some openings in Munto for a tapcafe owner, and I’ve been in enough of them to know how they run. The cap’n left enough money for us that I should be able to do all right by myself and cover the payment, assuming it’s okay with the law, that is,” he said, turning to wink at Annita.
 * “I don’t know,” she said with mock severity. “I might just have to come by and make regular checks on your establishment to ensure that it’s following regulations.”
 * “Your presence would be most amenable,” he said.

Sarth, bewildered, looked at Selu. Was Jorge flirting with Annita? A law enforcement officer didn’t seem to be his usual type, but it sure seemed that way. Selu caught his glance and shrugged. Stranger things had happened, though Sarth fully expected to hear the full story later from Cassi or his mother.
 * “Okay, so that covers you, Jorge, but what about the rest of us? Do we come work in your tapcafe?” asked Cassi.
 * “Sure,” said Jorge. “You can be a waitress, Selu can be a bouncer, and Sarth over there can be a doorstop or menu holder or something. He’d be perfect for it.”
 * “No thanks,” Cassi replied, rolling her eyes.
 * “In all seriousness, I think the Hawk-bat should be turned over to one of you. She’s a fine ship, and I’d hate for her to pass on to strange hands.”
 * “Who were you thinking of?” asked Selu.
 * “Well, don’t you know?” Jorge said.
 * “Uh . . . no,” Selu said slowly, and then realized that Jorge, Cassi, Sarth, Spectre, and Milya were all looking at him.
 * “You mean me?”
 * “Of course,” said Jorge. “You’d be a great captain.”
 * “You’re kidding, right,” he said. “Some kind of get-well joke?”
 * “Do we look like we’re joking?” asked Spectre.
 * “Wait- you all talked this over beforehand, didn’t you?” said Selu.
 * “We did,” Cassi admitted.
 * “We had a dull crew meeting and it was decided unanimously that you would be the best captain for the Hawk-bat,” Jorge confided.
 * "You’re loyal,” said Sarth.
 * “You’re intelligent- for a Jedi,” said Spectre.
 * “You care about people,” said Milya.
 * “You know what you’re doing- some of the time. Well, more than Sarth does,” said Cassi.

Sarth shot her a hurt look, but she just smiled sweetly at him. Selu looked around the table.
 * “If you are really sure about the giant mistake you’re about to make,” he said.
 * “We have faith in you,” Milya said.

Selu was once again overwhelmed by the trust and faith that his friends had placed in him. He knew that Sarth had served on the ship for far longer than he had, but was willing to let his brother take the lead. The others similarly trusted him to take care of them, and he felt that the only thing he could do was fulfill their trust in him.
 * “In that case, I accept,” he said, cracking a grin. “Pretty sorry crew I’ve got, but I think I can handle them.”
 * “Aye aye, captain,” said Cassi, her own smile matching his.
 * “On a more serious note, what happened on Emberlene?” he asked.
 * “Well, the news holos are scarce on detail, but according to some friends of mine, a merc fleet hit them pretty hard. The planet’s been torn up. That’s good news for the sector, I suppose, with their raids ending and all, but bad for the folks living there. Poor rodders, if you’ll excuse the term,” said Jorge.
 * “I see,” said Selu somberly, the guilt rising for a minute. Quietly, he dispelled it, returning to the present.
 * “Are the survivors still coming after us?” he asked pragmatically.
 * “Not from what I’ve heard,” said Jorge. “After all they’ve been through; they have enough to worry about with just survival.”
 * “We’re free of them at last,” said Sarth. “Though not in a way that I would have wanted it.”
 * “No, certainly not,” said Selu.
 * “So where to, captain?” asked Milya, changing the subject to something a little lighter.
 * “Well, I figure we’ll clear space tomorrow,” he said. “The bad side to all this notoriety we picked up on New Holstice is that we’re going to have to live more on the illegal side of the law. You might not be able to associate with us, Annita.”
 * “I’ll give you a day’s head start because you bought me dinner,” she said wryly.
 * “Thanks. Speaking of money, I checked on the way here, and we’re eighty-thousand credits heavier now, thanks to the Car’das group, no doubt. I figure we could probably head out to Doc Vandangante and the outlaw techs and upgrade our ship for our new profession. We’ll have a fresh start- no obligations to anyone but each other. Unless, of course, my crew has a problem with that.”

There were no objections, and the rest of the night was spent in mirth and enjoying one another’s company. Old friendships were strengthened and new ones formed within the span of a few hours. Everyone knew that they would not be gathered like this again for quite possibly a long time. The galaxy was filled with uncertain times, and so they made the most of the moments. Still, at long last, the final goodbyes were said and the company parted ways.
 * The Outer Rim, several days later

Selu Kraen squinted critically at what he was offered, then turned back to the bearded heavyset man in stained mechanic’s coveralls standing beside him.
 * “I’ll take it,” he said. “The creds will be deposited in your account as soon as the job’s done, Doc.”
 * “Pleasure doing business with you,” replied Klaus “Doc” Vandangante. “We’ll take care of everything.”

Selu nodded and shook the man’s proffered hand as a tiny young blond-headed girl about three standard years old came running up.
 * “Daddy! Daddy! Whozat?” she said.
 * “This is my friend, Mr. Kraen,” Doc answered her. “Selu, this is my daughter Jessa.”
 * “Nice to meet you, Jessa,” said Selu, reaching down to shake her small hand gravely. “I brought you something.”

Reaching into his jacket, he brought out a small child’s holobook disk that he’d picked up in a shop on Munto and handed it to Jessa. Smiling, he gently patted her on the head, and then straightened up to face Doc.
 * It’s customary on some worlds to bring the host’s children a gift,” he said blandly.

Doc’s mouth worked for a minute, but then he regained his speech. Selu’s hidden point and knowledge of his dealings and family got the message across.
 * “I see. Well, you’ve proven your point, Selu. I’ll have the boys get to work right away, and don’t worry; I won’t cheat you more than I already have. You know too much anyway.”
 * “Good,” said Sarth. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Leaving Doc and Jessa, he walked back to where the rest of the crew was waiting.
 * “What did you get?” asked Sarth.
 * “He’s going to provide us with parts and upgrades for a number of our systems,” said Selu. “Sarth, I’d like you to help out his techs- keep an eye on them. But that’s not all.”
 * “What else is there?”
 * “Remember how we used those Eta-2s on New Holstice and Emberlene?” he said.
 * “Yes,” said Milya.
 * “Well, I managed to acquire a pair of starfighters from Doc that are small enough to fit inside our wingtip pods.”
 * “How did you do that?” Cassi asked.
 * “Well, combined with what we got from the Car’das group and that run to Nar Shaddaa we made on our way here, we had enough to cover it. They’re custom fighters, but Doc assured me that they were in prime condition.”
 * “Why do we need the fighters, though?”
 * “I figured we could always use them if we were hired to escort someone else’s ship. Just a bit more versatility for our role as independent providers of services and cargo ferrying. Of course, that'll mean someone will have to learn to fly them well,” he said innocently.
 * “You’re not turning pirate, are you?” said Milya slyly.
 * “Of course not,” replied Selu. “Privateer, on the other hand, is a completely different business.”
 * “If only your Jedi Masters could see you now,” said Sarth.
 * “If only they could,” said Selu, but the words no longer carried as much hurt as they once did.

As they rest of his crew walked back onboard the Hawk-bat, Selu lingered for moment, reflecting. In a few short weeks, his life had completely changed and he had gone through the good, the bad, and even the ugly and come out ahead. Even with all the horrific events that had happened, Selu had finally arrived where he was today because of his friends and family. The sacrifices that each one had been willing to make, the risks taken for one another had brought the crew closer to one another. Selu marveled at how fortunate he really was, despite all the pain and loss he and his companions had endured.
 * “Hey captain, are you coming?” asked Milya.

Selu, startled out of his introspection, turned to see her leaning on the boarding ramp with an easy smile.
 * “I’d love to,” he said.

And with that, he turned and followed her back into the ship to rejoin the others.
 * "You know," Selu said to no one in particular as he walked up the ramp, "I think I could get used to this."