Beyond - Legends The End of All Light (Post-NJO AU: Anakin Solo, Jacen, Jaina, L/M, H/L, many more) Updated 11/29/14!

Haha, you're right. It was going to be but I think I've developed Emoticon Overuse Posting Disorder so I removed two of them.

Brusque? The *snort* was meant to = *amused snort*, not, well, other kinds of snorts.

Never mind.

 

Spike: Just caught up on the last two updates, YK. All running along nicely so far.

Thanks, I'm glad you enjoyed them

Although, Nightsisters? After their display in Backlash they'd get their asses kicked even worse than what the Tribe did to them!

This is very true. If it's any consolation, this was outlined in the plot of this fic long before Backlash and won't bear any resemblence to what happens in that story

Thanks for reading and replying





Magnuskn: Wait, you mean Anakin had a sex-change and married?!? That seems a tad of an extreme reaction to seeing Tahiri alive.



Hey, I said there would be some surprises in this fic, didn't I?

Although, maybe that's the reason they're not together now.

Oh, wait, you meant Leia.

It could be that too






Celsete: *slides into the post waving and grinning*
I'm alive, I promise! Sorry, I haven't replied in awhile; finals, a trip to California, and a obligation to exercise my own muse took precedence.

No worries, there's no rush on replying. Outside of finals, sounds like fun!

I'm back now, however, and all caught up!
These last few posts have been really great, Yobi!

Thank you, I'm glad you liked them

I'm especially impressed with how well you handled the massive info-dump in each one!

I appreciate that. I really hate doing them I'm happy to say chapter 8 will be the last one with lengthy backstory, so chapters will move quicker from there.

It's nice to see that Jaina's up and around, and my heart goes out to Jag...

We'll be seeing Jag in a few chapters to see how he's really coping...

I'm glad that Wrev's making at least a small effort to be nice to her... (I'm still cheering for that pairing, btw... )

I'm glad to see this is gaining so much support Wrev has a more substantial role in this story than the last one, if that means anything.

You scared me though, with one of your comments to another reader after they had mentioned how much they liked Kyp... You replied by saying that lots of people are going to die... was that a hint that Kyp's on that list?

I can't remember that, so I don't think that's what I was implying exactly. There's going to be some really horrible things that happen in this story and a lot of beloved characters that are going to die. Kyp could definitely be on that list, but I'm not saying he's any more likely to die than anyone else at this point. You'll see Kyp again in a couple chapters.

Anyway, I'm glad to see Luke back with his family. You write Ben really well!

Thanks! It was a nice break from all the life and death action stuff

And I couldn't help laughing when he told Tahiri to go to Dathomir... what an obvious set-up! (To us, anyway. )

Yeah, Luke seems to be stepping in to help his loved ones at the moment.

Well, that's about it for now... I'm a bit short on time for anything more in depth. I'm looking forward to Friday's post!!

Thanks and thanks so much for reading and replying





Dreadwar: So when's the next update, Yobi? And no, I don't mean which day, since I know it's Friday, I mean what minute?



I had something unexpected pop up on my schedule for tomorrow, so it could be earlier or later than usual depending on how things shake out. So I guess the short answer is, "I'm not sure."

And will we see Malig create a Force storn that destroys the entire galaxy and transports him to Earth just so he can kill Superman, and then travel back in time to 17 billion years ago to start off the Big Bang? Yes, I think he's that badass.



Wouldn't he need Superman to fly around the world a bunch of times backwards to go back in time?

But yeah, Malig could totally kill Superman







New post tomorrow. Hope you guys like it

 

Too bad. I'm aiming to get First this time, you see.

I even have a review ready to copy into the Post Message box, as soon as my 60-Refreshes-Every-Minute Program notifies me you have posted.

The review is:

"First!

Wow, great chapter, Yobi! You continue to excel as always! The last bit was GOLD! Really epic. The middle part was wonderful! And that bit where that something happened? Incredible!"



Or would that be cheating...

Well, if a Force storm can transport Darth Rivan into the future, I reckon Malig, who is more badass than even the Ancient Sith in my personal canon, could go back in time. Then again, it would be very Malig to manipulate Superman into doing his bidding, and then kill him with a have of his hand... and then use his Create-Life powers to create the Sith species, thus starting off everything evil and bad in the Star Wars galaxy.

Malig FTW!

 

Dreadwar: Too bad. I'm aiming to get First this time, you see.

Oh, well keep your eyes open then, post should be up in a few minutes

I even have a review ready to copy into the Post Message box, as soon as my 60-Refreshes-Every-Minute Program notifies me you have posted.
The review is:
"First!
Wow, great chapter, Yobi! You continue to excel as always! The last bit was GOLD! Really epic. The middle part was wonderful! And that bit where that something happened? Incredible!"
Or would that be cheating...

I liked it! Though you might want to change part of it to, "that thing at the end? What does it mean!?"

Well, if a Force storm can transport Darth Rivan into the future, I reckon Malig, who is more badass than even the Ancient Sith in my personal canon, could go back in time. Then again, it would be very Malig to manipulate Superman into doing his bidding, and then kill him with a have of his hand... and then use his Create-Life powers to create the Sith species, thus starting off everything evil and bad in the Star Wars galaxy.

Now this I like a lot! Malig manipulating Superman and then offing him only to create some sort of Sith utopia. Nice

Malig FTW!

Totally





New post will be up in a few. Hope you all have a terrific weekend

 

Chapter 7: After the Siege

The winds howled across the parched canyon below in pale yellow swirls of dust that rose and crashed like tidal waves. When each one crested, it sprayed a mist of grit from its depths to blur the glowing crescent of liquid violet sun sinking on the horizon, filling the air with a gleaming haze. Leia Organa Solo reached up to clean the lenses of her macrobinoculars with the soft cloth of her sleeve as the blown sand formed a murky film across them, threatening to scuff and scratch each plasticlear covering and making it even more difficult to see from their vantage.

"Nothing?" the man beside her asked when she frowned disapprovingly.

"Have a look for yourself," Leia replied, the device slumping in her hands before she handed it to her husband without taking her eyes off the canyon floor.

Han Solo accepted the macrobinoculars and lifted them to his own squinting eyes to peer down where Leia had been searching. While creased by deeper lines than had been present when they'd first met, his features were still as strong and handsome as ever, with a slightly crooked nose that had probably been broken more times than Leia cared to know and a lovely scar faintly slashed across his chin. The former smuggler's hair, which was mostly gray and not as thick as it had once been, was raked by the winds that whipped up from the bowl of the canyon.

They were perched upon a ridge of tan rock overlooking a serpentine valley that had been cut through the stone thousands of years earlier by a river and long ago dried up, leaving behind a cauldron of steaming dust.

There was nothing else to be found in the churning haze.

"I don't get it," Han said, his voice gruff with irritation. "Where could they have gone?"

"I don't know," Leia admitted. "They might have migrated elsewhere. Perhaps they have some secret hiding place they fled to during the attack on the Temple."

"We've been searching for days and running scans... I don't think they're here at all, sweetheart."

"Maybe they left the planet—found some usable ships in the Temple hangars and chose to leave Ossus all together."

Han turned to her, his brow flattened as though he thought Leia had just suggested they let C-3PO fly the Falcon. "You saw what the Raithians did to the ships in the hangars—did any of them look flyable to you?" he asked. "And besides, the Ysanna aren't exactly technological wizards. I never saw one of those spear-toting weirdos use anything more advanced than a slugthrower. You really think they could have taken a ship and even gotten off this rock? Let alone plot a course through hyperspace?"

"Okay, I admit it's a stretch, but some of them left their tribes and worked or trained at the Temple," Leia explained. "Others left completely. I'm just trying to think of all the possibilities."

The Ysanna were the descendants of the Jedi survivors who had inhabited the planet since the catostrophic effects of the Cron Supernova on Ossus thousands of years earlier. Though they were Force-sensitive, they had long forgotten the ways of the Jedi and formed a simpler civilazation of warrior tribes in order to adapt to the planet's unforgiving and unstable environment.

"Well here's another possibility I think is more likely," Han replied. "After Kre'fey's Fifth Fleet and their new Raithian best buddies got done raiding the Temple, they marched out here and exterminated the Ysanna tribes for kicks—seems right on their vector if you ask me."

Leia's forehead creased softly as she squinted out over the dust-swept valley for some clue in the dying sunlight of Ossus's primary. "We haven't found any bodies."

"It's been a year, darlin'—dead bodies don't exactly stick around that long in the wild."

"They did in the Temple."

Her husband's features turned grave at the reminder of their trip through the remains of the Jedi Temple. Ten months earlier, an Alliance fleet led by Admiral Traest Kre'fey and their Raithian allies had launched an attack on the Jedi sanctuary after the Order had been branded as traitors. Ostensibly, the invaders were there to take the Jedi as prisoners, but Leia saw little evidence inside the Temple ruins of their efforts in that regard.

The Temple—where she had spent the three years previous in rigorous study and training to become a full-fledged Jedi Knight—was half-crumbled and honeycombed with gaping blast holes. Its corridors and vaunted halls that had seemed so sacred before were now littered with the remains of mangled sentinel droids, lightsaber-scarred Raithian bodies, and dead Jedi Knights. Leia had recognized many of them, though they'd badly decomposed since the battle, and the ruptured Temple had clearly been unable to keep Ossus's carrion scavengers from creeping in...

Kam Solusar's corpse had been the hardest for her. He'd been with her brother Luke since the beginning of his quest to rebuild the Jedi Order, had stood at his side loyally through every conflict as a friend and ally, and even helped to train Leia's three children in the ways of the Force. Kam had survived one Jedi purge under the Emperor only to die in another, giving his life so that his wife Tionne and the students they cared so much for could escape.

It hadn't seemed right to leave him and the other fallen Jedi to decay in the Temple ruins, but they couldn't give them proper Jedi funeral pyres without risking drawing unwanted attention to themselves if the Raithians had left a presence behind in the system.

"Yeah, well, those were a little easier to find," Han said finally.

"True," she admitted. "But let's not forget why Luke sent us out here in the first place—there were Raithian forces deployed here recently. They had to have come back for something."

"Yeah—us," her husband snorted. "They are looking for Jedi to return—nothing more."

"Maybe..."

"What do you think, Munchin?"

Han's question was directed at the third person huddled with them behind the rocky outcroppings on the ridge, crouched tightly to his right. She was a slender girl with a long mane of wavy, dark blonde hair and large, unsmiling blue eyes. Despite what Han called her, ignoring her many protests to the contrary, the girl was named "Maichen."

She was only twelve years old and had seen more horrors and misery in her short life than any person deserved—but that seemed to be true of nearly everyone who lived in the swath of space controlled by the Raithian Empire. When Han had found her on the Raithian world Oscurra, Maichen had been in the midst of execution, death-marched down a long pier by a group of armed Raithians who were intent on dumping her into a dark and raging ocean where a great creature was waiting to devour her and a crowd of onlookers cheered in frenzied glee. According to the Raithians, she had been sentenced to death as a Jedi, an accusation Maichen firmly denied, insisting that their belief in her Force-sensitivity stemmed from a misunderstanding over some possessions her mother had left her when she'd died.

Unable to stand by and watch as the girl was fed to the ancient crustacean that broke the surface of the dark waters for its ritual sacrifice, Han stepped in and saved Maichen from the creature, and the girl had been with them ever since, returning with the Jedi team when they left Raithian space. She slept in the student dormitories on the secret Jedi sanctuary Halo, but when she was awake she was rarely far from Han.

"What do I think?" The girl seemed perplexed.

"Yeah. You're sort of a Jedi or something," Han explained. "So what's the Force telling you?"

"I'm not a Jedi," Maichen replied flatly, her lips pursing as she folded her bony arms across her chest. "You know that—I've told you that."

"Yeah, yeah," Han said, brushing her protests away with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. "Whatever you say."

"It's true!"

"All right, fine—don't get so defensive. I believe you."

The girl scowled at him. "No you don't."

"You're right, I don't."

"And my name's Maichen—I've told you that too."

"Got it," Han nodded apologetically. "Now, do you mind giving me your non-Force-aided opinion on what happened here, Munchin?"

For a moment, Leia was certain the girl was going to rebuke Han for his teasing again, but her dark blue eyes slid instead to the yellow clouds of wind spilling across the valley below and her young features seemed burdened by sorrow. "I think the Raithians took the Ysanna."

Troubled glances were traded between Han and Leia before Leia turned her own gaze back to Maichen. "And why do you think that?"

The youngster's brow furrowed further, as though deep in thought. "You said the Ysanna are like Jedi," Maichen said. "The Raithians always take Jedi."

Leia frowned. "Do you know why?"

There was a moment's hesitation before Maichen shook her head of fluttering blonde waves. "No."

In the Force, Leia could feel that the girl was keeping something from them—perhaps even lying about what she knew—but she decided not to press Maichen on the issue. The Raithian refugee was coiled in a bundle of emotional scarring that went far deeper than any of them could hope to mend in a short conversation on the ridge, and if Maichen's mother had been a Jedi killed or captured by their Sith enemies, it was not a wound Leia wished to pick at for the time being.

"I think we've gotten as much out of this as we're going to," Han announced, pushing himself to his feet and putting the macrobinoculars inside Leia's pack. "Let's get out of here."

Neither Leia nor Maichen were inclined to argue with him on this. They'd been on Ossus for days and had yet to find a shred of evidence as to the Ysannas' whereabouts. Leia hated to return to her brother with nothing after traveling all the way there to investigate, but it didn't appear there was much choice. Perhaps the Raithians had returned to the system to kill or capture the Ysanna—after all, they'd certainly committed themselves to rounding up the Jedi and whisking them off to Apollyon since entering GA space. Maybe their interest in Force-sensitives didn't end with them...

Maichen took the lead as the trio hiked across the ridge, retracing the trail their boot heels had stamped in the dusted rock moments earlier, while Leia fell in at her husband's side, keeping pace with his long strides. The tan poncho swaddled around Leia's shoulders rippled in the warm updrafts from the valley as the dark clouds overhead were stitched by tangles of sideways lightning that crackled and flashed, revealing a maze of glowing veins that shot through the gloom.

Ossus's unusual atmosphere was the result of a great catastrophe provoked by the use of Sith Magic in the Cron Cluster thousands of years earlier—in all likelihood, it was the descendants of this order that had become the Raithians and returned to known space.

In her bones, Leia could feel that the disaster that these Sith would cause would be far greater, and scar the entire galaxy forever.

Without meaning to, her brown-eyed gaze settled on Maichen's back, watching as the girl's tiny shoulder blades shifted beneath her tunic and her long, slightly unkempt blonde hair bobbed as she marched forward. Being around a child so often was a persistent, inescapable reminder of Leia and Han's own children, and with it came an undertow of grief and bitterness. She could scarcely look at Maichen without her thoughts drifting back to Jacen and the pain of losing him to the dark side.

Leia still couldn't accept it. When she'd first learned of her son's fall, she'd believed that there had been some sort of misunderstanding—that Jacen had been tricked into joining their enemies and betraying his family, and that bringing him back to the Light would be a simple matter of explaining this to him.

She knew that her son was not a Sith.

But as time wore on, she also remembered that he was not rash or driven by his emotions, that his descent would not have been taken along traditional Sith paths, and thus, neither would his return.

Han must have noticed the way she was watching Maichen and caught the glint of sorrow rimmed in her tired eyes. "We'll find him," he said, reaching out and taking her hand. "We're going to find him."

"When?" Leia demanded, her usually measured tone turning sharper than she had intended. "It's been a year since Jaina told us about Jacen and we've done nothing for him. The only one of us who's even really tried to make contact with him was Anakin, and that was just because he wanted to kill him."

The woman saw her own pain at the memory mirrored in her husband's fallen features. It had been a horrible fright learning how close they'd come to losing both their sons to the dark side because of Anakin's misguided grief—or how close they'd come to losing them in a more permanent way at Centerpoint Station when the brothers had tried to destroy each other.

Anakin had returned broken and wounded in more ways than one, and Leia felt that, in the end he would still need saving himself. What little she and Han had been able to do in the months since hadn't been enough to heal him completely, and in some ways he seemed more lost than ever. It was every mother's greatest fear— that she might not be able to do anything for him, that no matter how hard she tried, Anakin's salvation would ultimately rest in his own hands.

What if Jacen's does too?

She recalled her own brief experience with the dark side, when she'd been captured by Callista Ming's cult and mind-twisted by her, ultimately giving into her own grief and anguish over what had happened to Anakin and everyone else during the Yuuzhan Vong War. It had been so hard for her to let go of it all...

"Hell—I'd say now if we knew where the kid was," Han said.

"That's the problem, Han—I can't feel him at all. Even when he was captured by the Yuuzhan Vong and everyone believed he was dead, including Jaina, I knew better. I could feel that my son was alive, feel him out there in the galaxy through some part of myself... but I just don't any more. Jacen could be dead for all I know. There's just nothing."

Han grimaced, but clenched his jaw in an effort to regain his façade of confidence. "We'll find him, Leia. He can't stay hidden forever. And when we do find him, we'll bring him back—get him away from this monster."

"I'm afraid it won't be that easy."

"It never is."

"No, I mean—Jacen has always been the Jedi's moral nav computer, and had the kindest heart of anyone I've ever known. How many times have you looked to him because you wanted to know what he thought was right? I know I have many times over the years... Since he began training with Luke as a teen he has weighed his decisions carefully, sometimes agonizingly so, to ensure what he was doing was the right thing. Jacen's not like Anakin or even Jaina—they're headstrong and impulsive, so quick to react—like you. I'm afraid that if Jacen really has fallen to the dark side, that it's a choice he made after careful consideration because he believes it's right, and I don't think we're just going to be able to convince him otherwise."

"So he didn't fall—you think Jacen chose the dark side? Why would he do that? Why would anyone do that?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "But I know our son, and I just can't see him giving into anger or greed or anything else we know of that leads to darkness. When we do find him, Han, I just don't know how we're going to pull him back."

Han sighed, looking even more troubled. "I know, but we'll find a way—we always do." He gave his wife's slender hand a reassuring squeeze. "We're going to bring him back."

"And if he doesn't want to be brought back?"

"Then," Han said, patting the old DL-44 blaster pistol at his hip. "We'll make him."

Leia's brow arched curiously. "You're going to make our son relinquish the dark side at blaster point?"

"Hey, I got you to marry me by shooting you with a blaster—granted, that was a lot easier case to make given my roguish charm and devastating good looks—"

"Devastating?"

"Devastating," he affirmed. "Let's face it, sweetheart, you couldn't really help yourself. It wasn't a fair fight—"

"Because of the blaster?"

"Because of this mug." Han gestured to his grinning face. "The blaster was just to make you appreciate I was more than a pretty face."

"Ah—I didn't realize that."

"You were probably too dazzled by my handsomeness."

"What was the point you were trying to make again?"

"Got lost in my eyes, did ya? That's okay, I don't blame you. My point is, that I think the general principle applies here. I do some of my best convincing with a blaster in my hand."

Leia shook her head, grateful to Han for his attempt to raise her spirits and even feeling a slight flicker of confidence in the comfort provided by the familiarity of their banter.

"I don't know where you get your delusions, fly boy."

"Don't worry, Princess—you're not half-bad looking yourself."

"I appreciate that. Now, will we be taking the ship home or are we all going to be climbing into your rapidly inflating head and riding that back to Halo? I have a feeling there's plenty of room."

Han grinned. "Well, at least you'll be traveling in style."

A sigh came from Leia's thinly-lipped mouth rather than laughter as she felt a wave of guilt over what they were joking about. "Han, be serious for a minute. How are we going to find Jacen?"

The lopsided grin stretched across her husband's face shrank to a troubled frown almost immediately as Han abandoned his masquerade and turned thoughtful. "I don't know... but when we get back to Halo, we'll talk to Luke and figure something out. We've been running around the galaxy doing the Jedi's errands enough to earn a break from it for awhile. I'm sure he can spare us for now. It seems like this war has come to a standstill anyway since the strike on Apollyon and the Remnant joined our side."

"I don't know about that—" Leia started to say, but stopped herself from explaining as a tall, willowy woman appeared ahead of them, mounting the steep path from the valley floor to the ridge.

She was dressed in brown Jedi robes enfolded by an old sun-faded leather surcoat and well-worn calf-high boots. A pair of equally leathery hands peaked out from the baggy sleeves, rough with the calluses of a lifetime of fieldwork, which had similarly left the rest of her body thin and wiry, with long corded limbs of sinew wrapped in flesh tanned from days toiling in the sun—even after a year on Halo, and significantly paling, she still looked several shades darker than Leia's own milky skin. Her deeply-lined face was framed by a ratty nest of pale yellow hair tangled in unkempt knots and strands of white that spiraled and looped and frizzed down her back.

Her name was Baliss Phlora, and she had come to the Jedi Order after the Battle of Denon to escape a team of Raithian soldiers who had stormed her farm to collect her. Baliss had the misfortune of being visited by Jedi Master Kyp Durron shortly before the war, who had learned of her Force-sensitivity and sought to recruit her—the Raithians, apparently, had learned of this as well. The result was Baliss joining the Order for lack of any other choice, and Leia had taken her on as her apprentice.

While reluctant to embrace the Way of the Jedi, there was no denying the power of the Force in the thirty-eight-year-old woman. Baliss's power had manifested itself in her farm on Rivisa 6 which she had unconsciously nurtured with the Force for years, producing record crops and becoming something of a local legend in her small village.

Their relationship had been a stormy one, with Leia often preoccupied with the other duties and concerns the war had forced on her, and Baliss begrudging the Jedi for the loss of her simple life, but the months since Leia had returned from Apollyon had been productive ones, creating some semblance of harmony between the pair and putting the farmer on a proper path towards Jedi Knighthood.

"Did you find anything?" Leia said when Baliss was near enough that she did not have to shout.

The other woman shook her blonde head. "No, not really. There were a few scraps of clothing and some old clay bowls in one of the caves, but no sign of any of these Ysanna."

Though Baliss was the only person present who had been on Ossus during Kre'fey's siege, she had only just arrived on the planet and was too busy recovering from injuries to have met any of the natives.

"Clothing? Was there any evidence of some sort of struggle?"

Again, Baliss shook her head. "No, just old things left behind. Like your friends just packed up and left."

"Great, so we're all in agreement," Han grumbled. "This trip was a total waste of time. Now let's get back to the ship before those over-sized packrats find something else to charge us for."




The ship in question was a heavily modified Baudo-class star yacht that looked more like a manta-shaped sea creature that had crawled out of the sea and died. The "packrats" Han Solo had referred to were its enterprising and perpetually-bartering Squib owners who had flown them to Ossus.

Han had made it clear more than once that he wished he'd been able to take the Falcon, or any other ship for that matter—in fact, if C-3PO had been there, he could have informed everyone that Captain Solo had made this exact complaint no fewer than thirteen times since setting out from Halo for the former Jedi stronghold. But Jaina had taken his beloved Millennium Falcon to Dathomir with her Jedi buddies and Halo was running low on ships that could be used that wouldn't immediately draw attention to themselves if spotted. The only thing the Squibs' star yacht drew were stares of disbelief and laughter.

The Second Chance, as it was called, was tattooed by a maze of unsightly welding marks and stacked to the point of absurdity with attached freight compartments, forming a tower that threatened to overbalance the entire conglomeration. If it had been a sea-faring vessel instead of one that traveled through space, Han was pretty damn sure the thing would have capsized the moment it left the dock—and equally certain that the Squibs would have demanded compensation from the dock's owners.

It was settled down on a relatively flat stretch of rock several kilometers from the ruins of the Jedi Temple where the last of the day's sunlight outlined its homely shape and the evening gales rocked the wobbly thing back and forth on its landing struts. As the group of searchers approached, its large loading ramp was just raising shut to be peppered by the hiss of windborne sand.

Han didn't like the looks of that at all.

He braced himself as he and Leia made their way up the freight-scuffed landing ramp with Maichen and Baliss trailing closely behind, and entered the Second Chance's dimly-lit corridor only to find it all but barricaded with stacks of plastine crates and carboplas barrels.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me!" Han grumbled, smacking one of the crates with the palm of his hand. "What in the blazes have they done now?"

"I'm almost afraid to find out," his wife admitted, studying the clutter calmly.

Han decided she was in shock and went about trying to squeeze through the slim spaces between the cargo jamming his path—something, he realized with more than a little agitation, that would have been easier a decade or two ago when he was slightly more svelte. He managed to get past the first three blocks of crates before he dislodged a barrel balanced precariously on the edge on an old spinglass chair that looked strangely familiar. The barrel toppled over and hit the Second Chance's dark gray deck plating with a loud bang that brought three furry bipeds out from the cockpit to investigate.

"What are you doing, Solo? Trying to destroy our entire inventory?"

Murder was blazing in Han Solo's glower as he looked up to see the Squibs peering around an old metal box spattered by a cluster of melted pits. They were no taller than Han's waist and covered with short slate blue fur. Oversized doe eyes rimmed by dark lashes were set aside by the short muzzles on their rodent-like faces, all crowned by long tufted ears that had perked up in alarm at the clamor.

"What the hell is all this stuff?" Han demanded.

"You mean our new merchandise?" one Squib said.

"Or the stuff you broke?" questioned another as he stared disapprovingly at the upturned barrel.

"You're going to have to pay for that, you know?"

The diminutive traders had a maddening tendency to pick up where one of them left off in a thought, speaking fast, and typically adding things to some deal they were concocting so quickly that it became a blur and Han had difficulty keeping track of which one said what.

"I'm not paying you a credit," Han growled indignantly.

"One credit? Oh, you're in a lot deeper than that, Chief," said Sligh—he was sure it was Sligh this time—one of the two male Squibs.

"Yes, we can calculate your bill for you now if you like," added the other male called Grees.

"Flying you here had its expenses, after all," Emala chimed in. As the only female, she was more easily identifiable for her slightly larger eyes and longer ears.

Flying the Solos to Ossus hadn't exactly been a choice for the Squibs, and it certainly wasn't their end of some bargain that had been struck. The three traders were more or less prisoners of the Jedi Order after having helped Jacen Solo infiltrate Halo several months earlier, though they claimed they did so under the threat of imprisonment by the Raithians and unaware of the possible ramifications for the Order, which was probably true.

Since their diversion, they had stayed at Halo to "help" the Jedi, providing assistance that typically manifested itself in the form of a Squib attempting to trade them relatively worthless scrap they'd carted to the space station in the Second Chance. Han would have simply taken the vessel himself to Ossus without the Squibs, but the little beings had been eager to show their loyalty to the Jedi and begged for the chance to transport them, reminding Han that it was their ship and they had the right to fly it. Leia took pity on them, and Han had to admit it would be handy to have the Squibs piloting the ship if they ran into a Raithian picket along the way so as to avoid discovery.

As Grees shook his head at him, however, Han realized what a horrible notion that had been.

"Fuel ain't cheap, you know?"

The Millennium Falcon's captain folded his arms across his chest as he gave the tiny creatures a sideways look. "You fueled up at Halo—for free."

"Yes, but burning that fuel takes a toll on the engines over time—they don't last forever. We're charging you for the wear and tear."

"Caused by the free fuel we gave you?"

"Yes."

"There's also the matter of compensation for the danger you're putting us in."

"And the labor."

"And the in-flight meal."

"You made us split a pair of ration bars you stole from Halo's stores and handed us a jug of water I'm pretty sure you bled from the heating system," Leia said accusingly, eyeing Sligh as she emerged through the wall of crates to stand at Han's side.

"And? Someone has to pay for them."

"Those were our daily allowance anyway," Emala explained.

"We're free to do with it what we will," Grees added.

Sligh nodded in agreement with his associates. "And we chose to sell them to you."

"Even if you don't exactly need the extra calories..."

"Cute," Han sneered.

"You also need to reimburse us for the heat you humans are so fond of." Grees rolled his eyes.

"And your seats."

"And the artificial atmosphere."

"You're charging us for air?" Han asked in disbelief.

"And gravity," Sligh clarified.

"That's quite a bargain."

"Two for one."

"You won't find a better deal on Ossus."

"If you don't have the credits to pay us, we are open to trades of equal or greater value."

Whatever indifference Emala tried to convey was lost as all three Squibs shifted slightly and their ears wiggled as though it was all they could do to contain their excitement at the prospect.

For Squibs, trading was everything, and the process of bargaining was more important than what they actually received in the transaction. The more complex the trade, the more the Squibs seemed to enjoy it, preferring to trade items that were difficult to compare and confusing their customers with fluid terms and convoluted haggling.

"You're dodging my question," Han said, putting his hands on his hips as he glared down at all three of the blue-furred creatures. "Where did all this stuff come from? It wasn't here when we left."

The Squibs exchanged questioning glances between themselves and even a few chutters of Squibbian before Grees looked back to Han and responded.

"This is our newest line of merchandise," he said. "We just got it in."

"We're very excited about it," Sligh added.

"Newly salvaged from the ruins of the Jedi Temple," Emala beamed.

"What?" The question came from both Han and Leia in unison, shot with the same spike of disbelief and anger.

"Yeah, we decided to do some scavenging while you were gone."

"You don't have to thank us."

"Though you could have helped us hump it all back here after all we've done for you," Sligh said.

"I don't believe this!" Han seethed.

Again, Leia was calmer, but the subtle tremors in her soft features and round brown eyes told Han she was even more furious than he was. "You went into the Temple and took things?"

The three Squibs nodded, blinking up at the Solos in complete obliviousness to their indignation.

Han shook his head in disgust. "You're grave robbers."

"Not robbers!" Grees protested.

"We're preserving ancient Jedi artifacts," Emala qualified.

"We found them, they're ours," Sligh added, folding his arms to show how offended he was by the accusation.

"No one else seemed to be using them."

"We did this for you, really."

"Yeah, we were going to give you Jedi the first opportunity to buy the stuff from us."

"But don't expect a discount."

"Not after the way you've acted."

"Buy it from you?" Han snapped, his hand falling to his hip to draw the blaster holstered there, but Leia reached out and caught him by the wrist before he could pull the weapon free.

"No, Han," she said, a warning in her eyes as she stared at him. Leia waited until he released the butt of the blaster to release her own grip on his arm.

"You should listen to your mate, Solo," Grees said.

"Yeah, we'd hate to see you get hurt," Slight added.

All three Squibs puffed their chests out confidently.

"Are you stopping me because you wanna blast them?" the Millennium Falcon's captain asked, looking to his wife in hopeful desperation.

"No, it wouldn't accomplish anything," Leia said. "Besides, maybe this is for the best. There were things I would have liked to have salvaged from the Temple but I didn't really think we had time. The Squibs might have done us a favor after all."

"That's a smart girl you have there, Solo."

"Hard to believe she married you."

"Must have been some sort of life-debt situation."

"Don't let her get away though."

Han looked back to his wife, trying hard to ignore the Squibs' little voices. "You're killing me with this, you know that?"

"I know," she smirked, patting his shoulder. "But there could be something valuable in all this that the Jedi wouldn't want to lose."

"Oh, there is," Emala proclaimed, cracking open one of the crates after her furry hand tapped the control panel on its side. She reached her little arm in to the shoulder and fished something out. The female Squib rubbed the item against her furred-cheek before handing it to Grees and Sligh to do the same.

Sligh then held the treasure up for the Solos' inspection. "This is Kyle Katarn's tooth-scrubber!"

The former Princess of Alderaan's brow wrinkled as she looked at the contoured handle and slightly splayed bristles. "How do you know that's even Master Katarn's?"

The Squib looked at the tooth-scrubber closely before pulling it tight to his body and glaring suspiciously up at Leia. "How do you know it's not?"

"Okay, I think we've seen enough," Han groaned in exasperation. "Let's just get this tub of bolts off the ground and get out of here."

"Hey, are you all right, Cap?"

"You're looking a little red in the face."

"Want us to pump in some more of that oxygen you love so much?"




An hour later, Maichen sat alone on a long plasteel footlocker as the Second Chance lumbered through hyperspace, its deck thrumming soothingly despite the rattle it caused amongst the obscene stacks of cargo piled throughout the star yacht. She was in one of the holds, rubbing at an old scab on her right knee for lack of anything better to do, the lines of dried blood making a tight array of horizontal stripes in the seams of flesh, like the first half of a grid that had been laid down.

The Squibs’ vessel didn't have a game table or food processor or vid screens like the Falcon did. Its owners seemed concerned only with how much freight they could cram inside of it. The holds had been cramped when they'd journeyed to Ossus—they were even more crowded now.

Maichen's fascination with her knee waned and she looked around, studying the hold for something else to keep her occupied. She could just make out Baliss Phlora's side through the hatchway, where the apprentice was seated in an unclogged spot on the corridor practicing her meditations. The Solos themselves were in the cockpit, making sure the Squibs didn't fly them into a star or something worse.

Maichen was glad—she didn't like it when they hovered over her.

Especially Leia.

The little girl spotted the barrel Captain Solo had knocked over, still laying on its side and occasionally making slight rolls forward and backward in response to the subtle oscillations of the ship's hyperdrive. She hopped off of the footlocker and walked over to the barrel, curious to see what it was inside that the Solos were on the hook for buying.

Maichen hefted it upright with a grunt of effort before setting it almost soundlessly on the deck and popping its lid open. The light inside the crowded hold was too shallow to make out the barrel's contents, so she reached inside, groping blindly until her little hand closed around something long and cold and metal.

She pulled her prize out into the dim pearlescent light and found herself looking at the hilt of a Jedi lightsaber. Maichen's eyes glazed over as she turned the weapon over in her dirt-smudged hands, testing its grip, tapping its tough, rounded pommel, and even squinting down into the emitter plate to see if she could spot anything of its insides.

It was very much like the lightsaber the Raithians had found on her when they'd arrested her on Oscurra. They'd also rummaged through her satchel and taken the transparent cube she'd had hidden there before she was quickly sentenced to death—fed to a beast that dwelled in the dark waters that splashed all over that planet.

But Captain Solo had saved her from her fate.

She hadn't known why at the time, and it had taken her awhile after to realize why he had intervened.

He helped her because he believed she was someone else.

A Jedi, even.

Maichen remembered how one evening after they'd first come to Halo, Leia Solo had visited her sleeping chamber with a cup of hot coco in each hand. She gave one to Maichen, telling her that it was a favorite drink of Master Skywalker since he was a boy, and sat down on the end of the girl's bed. Maichen hadn't cared much for it. The drink tasted strange to her and made her tongue feel fuzzy, but she stayed quiet and pretended to sip at it as Leia spoke.

She was warm and motherly in her attempts at conversation, offering a few friendly anecdotes and many smiles to the youngster before her features turned grave and she made it clear to Maichen that if she ever wanted to talk about what had happened to her mother, or to Maichen on Oscurra, she could come to Leia and Han.

Maichen had nodded and said "okay," many times, but told the Solo woman that she didn't feel like discussing it. Leia had understood, no doubt assuming that Maichen's avoidance came from the young girl not wishing to relive the trauma she had suffered at the hands of the Raithians, and maybe that was even true, in part.

But the real reason Maichen didn't want discuss it was far simpler—if Maichen had told her the truth, Leia Solo would have killed her.

 

First

WOW!!! Was a simple and small chapter but left us with tones of questions. Can't wait to find out what the girls story is, when will we find out, what sort of jedi relics did they get. Great job. As for the other chapters I can't wait to see what's going on, on Dantooine. Hopefully things end well for Anakin and Tahiri. Can't wait for this weeks post.

 

the girl is just Maichen she is great

 

THIRD

I'll admit it, I laughed at this. It was hilarious. Sounds like a child (Sligh) arguing with an adult (Leia). That also explains why Kyle wasn't able to take Jacen down. he hadn't brushed his teeth

Maichen...that would have been LOTF Leia, not YK Leia. You have nothing to fear, I hope

Great post, can't wait for more.

 

oooo so who is maichen really? Great chapters Yoda...I especially loved Tahiri calling Luke and Old Man!!

Looking forward to the next

 

This is why I love Han.

Another excellent chapter with yet another shocking ending.

 

Love the Han/Leia banter, and the squibs always provide a bit of humor. Who is Maichen, and why would Leia want to kill her if she found out the truth? That is the mystery....

 

voxynking: First

Nicely done

WOW!!! Was a simple and small chapter but left us with tones of questions.

Yeah, there are a few mysteries in there, like what happened to the Ysanna and who Maichen really is

Can't wait to find out what the girls story is, when will we find out, what sort of jedi relics did they get.

We'll get some idea about the Jedi artifacts along the way. Maichen's story will be revealed a little beyond midway through the story.

Great job.

Thansk!

As for the other chapters I can't wait to see what's going on, on Dantooine.

That will be in chapter 9

Hopefully things end well for Anakin and Tahiri.

Might see them in chapter 9 too...

Can't wait for this weeks post

Should be up on Friday.

Thanks so much for reading and replying






Maggy: the girl is just Maichen she is great

Is she?

Thanks for reading and replying






GMK: THIRD

Great job

I'll admit it, I laughed at this.

Nothing to be ashamed of

It was hilarious. Sounds like a child (Sligh) arguing with an adult (Leia). That also explains why Kyle wasn't able to take Jacen down. he hadn't brushed his teeth



All this time, the secret to Kyle's power was good hygine. Didn't see that one coming.

Maichen...that would have been LOTF Leia, not YK Leia. You have nothing to fear, I hope

Yeah, it's hard to know why she'd think that

Great post, can't wait for more.

Thanks and thanks for reading and replying Will be a new chapter on Friday.





Diamond: oooo so who is maichen really?

Good question. Something tells me the answer won't be good

Great chapters Yoda...

Thanks!

I especially loved Tahiri calling Luke and Old Man!!

Tahiri's funny Even if Luke is getting up there in years...

Looking forward to the next

Should be up on Friday.

Thanks for reading and replying






Treborani: This is why I love Han.

He's the man

Another excellent chapter with yet another shocking ending.

Expect another surprise to end chapter 8

Thanks so much for reading and replying I'm glad you liked it






dm1: Love the Han/Leia banter, and the squibs always provide a bit of humor.

Glad you found it funny It was nice to interject some of that given how serious everything else is right now.

Who is Maichen, and why would Leia want to kill her if she found out the truth? That is the mystery....

Yep She could be another spy for Malig, though it seems unlikely he could have anticipated their meeting and Han rescuing her on Oscurra, so maybe we can rule that out?

Thanks for reading and replying






Thanks again, everyone

 

Great update! You really captured the essence of Han & Leia, and the squibs were more irritating than ever. I totally forgot about Baliss, but Maichen is quickly becoming more intriguing than ever. I wonder what happened to her holocron, and why would she be so sure that Leia would be hostile towards her?

Naturally, Leia displays uncanny insight regarding Jacen. Unfortunately, she is all too right about him.

 

Uggggh, Squibs. I think one should get a Force Point every time one of kills one of those.

So, maybe we just saw where all those corpses for the pyres come from, which we saw in the preview? I am still hopeful that it won't be another quasi-purge.

Good banter between Leia and Han.

And about Maichen... interesting mystery. She obviously isn't a spy like that Zeltron Jedi, but I think there may be some connection to that dark side machinery Malig is building. We'll see.

Don't forget to answer your latest PM.

Excellent chapter!

 

Maichen is quite the mystery... hmmm.
Squibs!

 

L0B0: Great update!

Thank you

You really captured the essence of Han & Leia, and the squibs were more irritating than ever.

More loveable, you mean

And thanks again, I'm glad Han and Leia worked in this chapter.

I totally forgot about Baliss,

She's easy to forget given how little she's been in the series, but she does have an important role to play and we'll be seeing her a lot more in this fic.

but Maichen is quickly becoming more intriguing than ever. I wonder what happened to her holocron, and why would she be so sure that Leia would be hostile towards her?

All will be answered about Maichen a little more than mid-way through the story. She apparently has some deep dark secret

Naturally, Leia displays uncanny insight regarding Jacen. Unfortunately, she is all too right about him.

Jacen got himself into this and it's probably going to come down to him getting himself out. That doesn't mean others can't help though...

We'll have to wait and see.

Thanks so much for reading and replying





Magnuskn: Uggggh, Squibs. I think one should get a Force Point every time one of kills one of those.



*Covers the Squibs' ears*

If it makes you feel any better, that may be the last real scene with them in the fic

So, maybe we just saw where all those corpses for the pyres come from, which we saw in the preview? I am still hopeful that it won't be another quasi-purge.

It's possible, though we didn't get mention of Han or Leia building any pyres. I will say that the pyres seen in the trailer weren't from a purge.

Good banter between Leia and Han.

Glad you liked it. I was afraid Han might come off as too flippant over Jacen.

And about Maichen... interesting mystery. She obviously isn't a spy like that Zeltron Jedi, but I think there may be some connection to that dark side machinery Malig is building. We'll see.

Yeah, it's hard to see her in the same role as Hala Rozess, but I suppose we'll have to wait and see

Don't forget to answer your latest PM.

Reply sent

Excellent chapter!

Thanks and thanks for reading and replying






TSF: Maichen is quite the mystery... hmmm.

One that will be solved eventually

Squibs!

Rock!

Sorry, just finishing your thought for you

Thanks for reading and replying






New post should be ready to go on Friday. We're going back to Coruscant in this one, as well as a surprise stop somewhere else...

 

Thanks for the assist, now they won't hear me coming.

 

I literally laughed out loud when I read this







New post tomorrow

 

Obliged to be of service.

 

Yay! Han's back in action! The Squibs are um, uh...weird. Munchin has a secret! I wonder what it is? Sorry I missed so much, I was finishing up school work. Rock on, Yobi!

 

Hopefully not like thtat
you?re not more than half a sleep the time YK posts



YodaKenobi:

Chapter 5: Lure

Every tree was her landmark, every creek identifiable by the sound of their purling waters. There were no surprises waiting for her at the crest of a hill or the bend of a stream.

That?s really lovely
I think those are the bestest landmarks

The morning was cold and so overcast nothing could be seen above the trees except for gray. There was no trace of division in the solid ceiling of clouds save for a few tendrils of darkness bleeding through where the condensation had grown heavier. They were stubborn clouds that refused to rain or even move, but appeared to have swollen too densely to merely lounge in the sky. A light fog hung in the air from treetops to roots, drowning the world in front of the Witch in a frosty haze.

How awesome is that ?!?

"Just drop the weapon, braids," Wrev Caster grinned. "Make it easy on both of us."

Ooops caught

The Dathomiri Witch grabbed his arm as best she could and used the leverage to get the man on her back before he could regain control. Then she hurled Wrev over her shoulder and into the trunk of a crooked tree. A loud crack sounded as Wrev's back crashed into the ashen trunk and left a bright tan split up its length.

ROFL - I hope he didn?t break anything he might need later





"You really don't want to know," Jaina lied. "Let's just say I think it's in your best interest to answer my questions."

LOL she is really mean

"I can show you some techniques to maintain obedience if you desire."

That sounds a bit after nightsister

The Witch considered this for a moment before she looked back to Tenel Ka. "It would probably be best if I showed you."

[image=http://frankthetank.files.wordpress.com/2010/04/admiral-ackbar.jpg]





Wrev Caster was a tall man with light brown hair that fell well past his narrowed blue eyes and two days of beard stubble running across his jaw and upper lip. Like the rest of the Jedi team, he was dressed in typical civilian spacer garb?synth leather black jacket, fastened shirt, and dark trousers.

Some might say ?sexy?

"Great," she lied, trying not to betray the truth of the pain in her joints or throbbing that ran up the muscles around them with each step.

Four months had passed since Jaina had returned from the Raithian planet Apollyon as part of a Jedi team that rescued Luke and the other captive Jedi Masters?four months since her legs were so crushed she couldn't even stand. The young Jedi Knight had spent two of those months immersed in extensive bacta treatments to mend her bones, and was still struggling with some pain and mild muscle atrophy.

Brilliantly - why does she go on a hike then?

Death.

It?s a trap

"You did well, Lura V," announced a smooth, female voice.

She not only sounds like a nightsister - she is one ...

"Drop your weapons, Jedi," she sneered.

Anakin will have a lot of work ahead





Chapter 6: Home Again

Mara Jade Skywalker's ocean of red hair was tousled and matted in a beautiful mess, spilling across her pillow and his, dancing down her neck and shoulders, curling on her cheek, while a single wavy tendril hung over her closed eyes like a blindfold. Shafts of light stretched over her bare back in bright segments that bleached her already milky skin a starker white and exposed clusters of barely visible freckles. The wonderful line of his wife's back and bumps of her spine ended in a skirt of bunched sheets, from which emerged a single naked thigh draped warmly over Luke's hip.

Awesome picture there





"Yes, but I didn't mean that litera?never mind." The Jedi Master waved his hand to dismiss the issue as he remembered who he was talking to. He was fortunate the protocol droid

 

Magnuskn: Obliged to be of service.



*Moves Squibs to secure location*





Rohan: Yay! Han's back in action!

Yep, with Leia too

The Squibs are um, uh...weird.

I think you mean "awesome"

Munchin has a secret! I wonder what it is?

We'll find out a little over midway through the story.

Sorry I missed so much, I was finishing up school work. Rock on, Yobi!

No need to apologize, there's no rush on replying. I hope all is well with school

And thanks for reading and replying





Maggy: That?s really lovely

Thanks!

LOL she is really mean

I think it's "smart"

Brilliantly - why does she go on a hike then?

Cause she can't just sit still and do nothing?

ROFLMAO

Heh.

How do you come up with such things?!

I just get in touch with my inner-Squib

and I agree with Magnuskn

Noooo!

Is it something like ?Crazy Chicken? ? now wait that would mean Vergere ? ohh ? a whole new meaning to the chicken

I have no idea what you're saying here

Aww come one girl, that?s Han you talk about - he would have helped anyways

Maichen doesn't understand things like compassion or selflessness.

Why would she think that?

Good question.

great updates, YK

Thanks and thanks for reading and replying





New post will be up in a little bit

 

*sneaks in before the new post*

I'm out of time for anything in depth, but WOW! Evil cliffie!!

I'm really looking forward to finding out what's up with Maichen... although with you, I know I'll have to wait awhile.

~Celeste

 

Celsete: *sneaks in before the new post*
I'm out of time for anything in depth, but WOW! Evil cliffie!!

Yeah, the one at the end of chapter 8 is way worse

I'm really looking forward to finding out what's up with Maichen... although with you, I know I'll have to wait awhile.

That's true It will be months and months, but not nearly as long as waiting to see Malig's face

Thanks so much for reading and replying

 

Chapter 8: Fallout

No structure piled atop the sprawling, durasteel-caked terrain of Galactic City was as recognizable as the mountain-sized Senate Rotunda at the heart of Coruscant's most prestigious district. It lay in the center of a long, flat expanse of gray permacrete at the zenith of a colossal superstructure where the most ambitious of Coruscant's skytowers gave way for kilometers and surrounded it like a crown.

This plateau was known as the Avenue of the Core Founders, and it was lined by crudely sculpted metallic statues of thirty-meter-tall humanoids with long, spindly limbs that bore giant staffs. Behind their stone pedestals were rows of multicolored flags twisting in the daytime breeze, all of which dwarfed the tiny beings making the long march across the concourse and mounting the deceptively steep flights of permacrete stairs to the Great Door, emblazoned with the seal of the Galactic Alliance.

The Rotunda itself was an enormous dome perched over a slightly tapered drum-shaped body that shimmered in the late morning sunlight like a great shield to protect the galaxy from injustice—or as Mulla Habbas—former Kuati Senator, Minister of State, lover of all things edible, and current corpse— had once described it in private: "Like a giant, overstuffed cupcake."

Its insides were far different, and certainly nowhere as sweet as Habbas's analogy.

Most of the Senate Building's interior was occupied by a vast spherical cavity of black walls ringed by more than a thousand darkened repulsor pods called the Grand Convocation Chamber. In each of these pods was a representative of one of the Galactic Alliance's members, be it from a planet, system, entire sector, or corporate interest, and their respective haggle of datapad-wielding aides and advisors. At the center of the chamber stood an elevated podium that towered up more than thirty meters and was bathed in a shaft of white light that beamed down from the ceiling.

Standing on this podium, was the Senate Speaker, the Minister of State, a scribe, two aides, a pair of Senate Guards, and the Galactic Alliance's Chief of State.

Fyor Rodan gazed out across the abyss of the Grand Convocation Chamber and tried not to look like his head was killing him. When his pale eyes became unfocused, he realized the array of repulsor pods moored to the curved walls made an endless series of overlapping concentric circles that was absolutely hypnotic.

He blinked and tried to keep his attention on the sole pod that had detached from its alloy nest and was currently hovering in the immense gulf of empty space between the podium and the chamber walls. A tall Elomin with rust-colored skin and a flood of violet septsilk robes ringed by bands of gold trim scowled across the Senate from the center of the pod while the microphone built into its short podium augmented his deep, raspy voice for the chamber to hear. He had a noseless face that left deep nostrils smashed at the top of his nasal passages and long, pointed ears. The eyes above those nostrils were deeply set in sunken sockets, beady things the color of burst capillaries that seemed as wicked as the four flesh-colored horns that snaked out crookedly from the top of his skull.

"... Demand an investigation," Hykynnan R'og was saying, an expression of disgust curving like a hook down his long face. "If the Jedi can infiltrate our capital so easily and escape unscathed, nowhere is safe. They can launch guerilla attacks anywhere, ambush our fleets, or harass our shipping lanes."

And that's your real point of concern, isn't it? Rodan thought cynically. R'og was the Senate Representative of the Mining Guild—an impressive feat for an Elomin, but perhaps unsurprising when one realized how much power the relatively small species possessed. Their homeworld of Elom was the lone source of lommite, the principle ore required in the creation of transparisteel and durasteel, making it crucial in the construction of ship armor and viewports, as well as many skytowers and bridge supports throughout worlds like Coruscant. The Elomin had wisely wrestled control of Dorvalla Mining away from its human founders under threat of a complete ban between each contract negotiation for two decades, and it was only a matter of time before they used similar leverage to broker for more power within the Mining Guild itself.

The Guild was clearly terrified that the Jedi would begin targeting its ore shipments, destroying Elom's and many of the mining corporation's only source of real wealth—and given its importance to the Alliance fleet, it seemed like a good idea to Rodan.

"We cannot allow ourselves to be terrorized this way," R'og continued as one of his aides cued up a vid recording that was transmitted to the other repulsor pods and Rodan's own podium. He glanced down to see the now familiar footage of Anakin Solo and Kyp Durron cutting down a group of Raithian soldiers on the bed of a prison transport hurtling through Coruscant's skylanes. "These outlaws have subverted justice, freeing the traitors who helped them before their trial could even begin. They killed eight brave Raithian soldiers in the attack and cost this government more than twelve million credits in damage. Honored beings, this cannot continue."

On the screen, Anakin Solo's blue eyes looked up coldly at the camera hovering near his head as if noticing it for the first time. He extended his hand and suddenly the camera was zooming out rapidly before the recording erupted in a blur of white static.

It was the hottest item on the HoloNet—Fyor had seen the recording no fewer than three dozen times in the two days since Wedge Antilles and the other Corellian prisoners had escaped in the Jedi ambush.

"What exactly is it you would like investigated, R'og?" questioned Senator Gry'vla of Bothawui, his black lips peeling back to show his locked fangs. "That our forces are spread too thin to even protect the Galactic Capital? That the Jedi can strike us anywhere, anytime, they wish? That Chief of State Rodan is incapable of protecting us? These are things we already know—no need to waste the taxpayers' credits on that one."

A ripple of bitter laughter worked its way through a handful of pods in the Convocation Chamber at the Bothan's remark. Sieva Gry'vla was no rival of Hykynnan R'og—the pair came down on the same side of several issues, making R'og as close to a political "ally" as one could be with a Bothan. The bronze-furred Senator hadn't interrupted to shoot down R'og's committee investigation—he'd done so because he couldn't resist an opportunity to take a shot at Rodan.

He was part of a small but rapidly growing faction that were beginning to see the Chief of State as an ineffectual leader—which was different from the other factions who wanted him removed because they believed him a tyrant, a liar, a thief, or a blood-thirsty killer.

Rodan's support amongst the people was slipping fast, an ocean of goodwill that was always afforded in a time of war drying up as though it was under Tatooine's suns, and the Chief of State couldn't have cared less.

He had bigger problems.

Much bigger.

Dorrin Kogg banged his giant ceremonial scepter against the metal floor of the Chief of State's podium in response to the laughter. The Senate Speaker was a mountain of a being with narrowed yellow eyes and the extra lungs indicative of his species, giving him a commanding voice. "Order!' He called. "Order! Senator Gry'vla, you will wait until you have been recognized to speak."

"My apologies," the Bothan smiled, offering Kogg a shallow bow. "I trust it will not take the Chief of State as long to recognize me as he does an attack, or else we could be here for quite some time."

More laughter snaked cruelly throughout the rotunda, but Kogg resisted the urge to bang his scepter again and avoided responding to Gry'vla's taunt, contenting himself instead with a hard stare in the Bothan's direction. Finally, he turned his attention back to the red Elomin in the pod hovering in front of the podium. "You may continue, Senator R'og."

"That is not quite what I had in mind, Sieva," R'og said, sneering up at his Bothan peer. "While I do believe we should investigate the breakdown in security, examining weaknesses in the hopes of shoring them up, I'm not convinced that was really the problem. My esteemed colleagues on the Security Committee assure me that the prison transport's route and time of departure were secrets known to only those at the highest levels of the military, yet the Jedi seemed to know exactly where and when to launch their attack. How is this possible? Certainly even Jedi can not glimpse the future with such clarity."

"What are you suggesting, Senator R'og?" Minister of State Ta'laam Ranth asked from beside Rodan, impatience drenching his red eyes.

"I'm suggesting that some of our most trusted officials in the military and this body have leaked information to our enemies!" the Elomin hissed, thrusting his long index finger and its sharp nail down to punctuate each sentence. "That there are traitors amongst us! And I demand an investigation to root them out!"

Oh Sith.

A gasp of surprise pulsed through most of the Senate and was immediately followed by a raucous barrage of hurled accusations and self-righteous cries of indignation. Fyor Rodan found himself bracing the podium, trying hard to seem unfazed as Dorrin Kogg's scepter was again hammering the metal floor between them, but he could see his knuckles go white and he wondered if all the color had drained from his increasingly-gaunt face. He was so stunned he didn't even see Mon Calamari's pod detach from the chamber wall and float into a challenging position near R'og.

"That is a very serious accusation to make," proclaimed Senator Kragil, the barbels dangling beneath his wrinkled chin quivering with contempt. "You bring the integrity of this institution into question?"

"I do," the Elomin replied unapologetically, thrusting his chin out.

A new chorus of outrage erupted intermingled with ringing cheers of support. Even the Gands in the pod to the podium's left emitted a string of reedy thrums that could be heard to show their agreement, while a giant blue Ortolan on the other side of the metal canyon trumpeted her stout trunk and let her floppy ears droop in an expression of disdain. Rodan's supporters, like the Bith Senator from Clak'dor VII and Tya Tuban of Sullust were equally vocal in their disapproval, but it seemed too faint for the Chief of State's ears.

It had been fewer than five months since Fyor Rodan had chased a leak within the government under the implicit threat of death at the hands of the Sith Lord called "Darth Malig." The trail had led him to two esteemed Senators and one of the highest-ranking officers in the Alliance fleet. Fyor had kept his discovery secret, framing the pesky Intelligence Director Ayddar Nylykerka for the crimes of the real traitors so that they could continue their work and he would be free of the Tammarian's interference, while at once satisfying his would-be executioner.

The Elomin's investigation threatened to expose that lie, because Fyor Rodan knew the origins of this new leak, and knew where the hunt would lead...

He wanted to stand up and object, to call the allegations ridiculous, insulting, or even treasonous if he thought he could swing it. He wanted to use every power granted him by the Senate to forestall any hearings, to reprimand R'og and his cohorts in the Senate, to flat out kill the entire idea of a leak with his bare hands—but he couldn't.

To do so would cast the shadow of suspicion on himself and expedite his own demise.

So he stood there at the podium, his features grim and gray, his back so rigid his spine might have snapped from the quake of Kogg's scepter against the floor, quietly fuming as the Senate exploded in its special, refined form of pandemonium.

The Senator from Brentaal could scarcely contain his excitement as he detached his repulsor pod from where it had been anchored and sailed into the open near Hykynnan R'og. "I second Senator R'og's call for an investigation," the human declared with a practiced frown of distress. "Any traitors amongst us must be rooted out. The presence of a single collaborator undermines all that we do here."

Lyrm Qwo, the Gossam Senator from Felucia didn't even bother extricating her pod from the angled rows clustered across the chamber, simply activating her mic amidst the roar of discord and drawing the bobbing hovercams to her like a swarm of flitnats. "I move that the delegations from the Corellian System be removed from all committees and barred from intelligence briefings pending the completion of this investigation."

"On what basis?" Kragil demanded.

"Oh please," Gry'vla sneered. "We all know it was the Corellians who had the Jedi free Antilles. Their treachery at Centerpoint made their loyalties quite clear."

"This is outrageous!" Senator Kavissica shouted. The blue-furred Selonian pounded her fist against the railing of her pod. "On behalf of Selonia and our sister delegations of Drall, Corellia, and Talus and Tralus, I move for a vote of censure against Senators Gry'vla and Qwo for their incendiary and slanderous accusations!"

Rodan found himself scanning the tiers of repulsor pods for Senator Triebakk of Kashyyyk and Relequy A'Kla, daughter of Elegos A'Kla, who represented the Camaasi people, his eyes pleading with them to intercede in this mess, but knowing they could not without implicating themselves. They were the Senators his own investigation had led him too, the true traitors who were helping the Jedi, and if they were to step in and try to obstruct the proposed search for the leak all eyes would turn on them. A'Kla gazed back at him sorrowfully while the Wookiee's expression was more difficult to read, but Rodan saw only refusal in the creature's dark eyes.

"What of the disappearance of Admiral Kre'fey and the Fifth Fleet ships?" Rodan followed the booming voice that rumbled over the strife to see Senator Bryne of Metellos adorned by a scowl of suspicion. "There is much we still do not know about their vanishing, and if they truly were ambushed by Jedi forces, is it not likely their clandestine mission was compromised by this same leak within the government? Any investigation that proceeds would be remiss not to follow that trail for a possible connection."

The mystery of Traest Kre'fey's disappearance with over half of the Fifth Fleet was one without any duracrete answers after more than three months. What they did know was this: Kre'fey had launched his fleet without the approval of acting Supreme Commander Jacen Solo; no one else within the military seemed to know why or for what; there was no record or evidence of any kind detailing even where he'd planned to go; and perhaps most peculiar of all, the Fifth Fleet warships had apparently mobilized without ninety-five percent of their crew.

This, by almost anyone's estimation, was simply impossible.

How could ships that required thousands—sometimes tens of thousands—as an absolute skeleton crew to operate possibly fly with mere handfuls on board?

Interviews with those left behind had revealed nothing, even under threat of criminal prosecution and dismissal, and Kre'fey's personal records showed even less when a team of Alliance slicers led by Ghent had poured over them.

Kre'fey and his fleet had simply disappeared.

Popular opinion was that Kre'fey had been displeased with Rodan's management of the war and hired thousands of mercenaries in order to take the fight to the Jedi directly, only to be ambushed by them and obliterated. A few suggestion Kre'fey was actually a traitor and had taken his forces to the Jedi to form an alliance, though this was easily dismissible in Rodan's eyes, knowing it was Kre'fey who'd led the assault on the Jedi Temple at Ossus only a year ago—he couldn't see either side getting over that so quickly.

The Chief of State's gray eyes flicked over to where Senator Gry'vla was standing in his pod, his lips pursed tightly beneath his short muzzle and his furry hands clasped at his waist. Rodan would have expected all of Bothawui to be outraged over the disappearance of Traest Kre'fey. The Bothans were notorious political backstabbers, but they were also fierce defenders of their kind against outsiders and publicly revered those who rose to prominence as the missing Admiral had. Yet little had been said over the incident from the Bothan worlds, and Gry'vla had made no official motions within the Senate in the months that followed to determine what had become of Kre'fey and the Fifth Fleet—as he made no attempt now to second Senator Bryne's proposal.

He knows something, Rodan thought grimly.

The sphere of angry shouting swelled throughout the Convocation Chamber, and the repulsor pod encircling Senator Triebakk and his protocol droid translator finally left its moorings and joined the fray swarming around the Chief of State's podium. A great Wookiee roar rumbled over the din, followed by a mournful warble of ululations in Shyriiwook.

"The honorable Triebakk asks that we cease our pointless squabbling and work together for the good of the galaxy," the sparkling silver-plated droid translated. "A wroshyr tree is only as strong as the roots that keep it planted in the ground and nourish its body. We must stand together if we wish to endure. Instead of focusing our energies on escalating this conflict, let us use the opportunity to reach out to the Jedi forces in hopes of negotiating a peaceful resolution—"

"Oh, go climb a tree, furball!" A mocking voice interrupted from the gallery, followed by a wave of jeers at the Wookiee's proposal.

It was clearly not the reaction Triebakk sought to illicit, but for Rodan, the bedlam his call for peace ignited brought a pale smile to his grave mouth. The disarray would give the Chief of State the authority to call the session to a close without hearing charges of him stifling debate—or at least, without hearing as many of them.

He signaled Kogg and the big Sermarian nodded, before reaching for the chamber controls arrayed across the podium and toggling the line of gleaming switches that cut power to the microphones in the hundreds of repulsor pods at once. The rotunda didn't go silent, but the tumult was severely muffled without the aid of microphones, even as the crowds of angry Senators raised their voices to unintelligible screams in order to be heard.

"Since this body seems incapable of coming to order, the Senate will take a short recess to see if we can regain our composure," Rodan said. And for me, a long recess. He wouldn't be coming back for the day—the best procedural hydrospanner he could through into any plans for investigation was to obstruct them with his absence. It wouldn't stop R'og's committee from proceeding, but it would slow them down, and what Rodan needed more than anything was time.

The gray-haired man nodded to Dorrin Kogg again and the Senate Speaker palmed the podium controls to initiate the platform's retraction. They descended quickly, sinking through an empty circle cut in the durasteel floor that sealed soundlessly behind them, cutting off the bevy of objections still swirling around in the Convocation Chamber above without a response and setting the podium down on the floor of the Chief of State's holding office.

Through the wide arched doorway that led to a small working office, he could see the outline of a single guest already waiting for him, and turned to the others on the newly landed platform with a fresh wave of anxiety. "Get out of here, all of you," he insisted, waving his hands towards the chamber's exit. "I want to be alone."

Understandably insulted by his abruptness, both Dorrin Kogg and Ta'laam Ranth responded with glares of annoyance before shuffling out behind the Senate guards and slightly frightened aids and scribe, who put their heads down and scurried out of the circular room with quickened steps as though trying to escape unnoticed. Rodan didn't even wait for the alloy double doors to sweep shut behind the group, turning on his heel and padding to the office with his black and gold Commenorian robes rippling at his heels and frustration punctuating every step.

His visitor was seated casually near the entrance to the modest office in front of a long, crescent-shaped desk of polished metal, with one hand thumbing through a glowing datapad and the other occupied by a sterifoam cup of stimcaf with a ribbon of steam bleeding from its lid. When she'd finished bringing the cup to her lips and sipping daintily, she balanced it on her knee without sparing a glance to ensure it would not tip.

She was a demure woman in her mid-forties with ivory skin and coal-black hair secured in a practical tail that just managed to brush the collar of her dark commander's uniform. Beneath the glow of the datapad's luminous screen bathing her features, was a pair of dark emerald eyes, intelligent and alert as they scanned a flurry of reports.

"That did not go well," Lorra Klorne said without looking up from her work.

"Oh, thank you, Captain Obvious for another brilliant deduction," Rodan murmured bitterly as he stepped by her chair to make his way around the desk. "And here I was thinking the session had gone wonderfully. Once again, I'm humbled by your superior observation skills."

"It's Commander Obvious, actually," the woman responded without a trace of a smile.

"My mistake." Rodan plopped down in the high-back synthleather chair at the heart of the desk and immediately activated a small scanner to sweep for recording devices. When he was satisfied that the room was free of bugs, he swiveled to one side and bent over to reach a low cabinet built into its interior.

"What are you doing?" Klorne looked up from her datapad for the first time since he'd entered.

"Getting a drink of course," he said, retrieving an aged bottle of Mechutchion's Corellian whisky and a four-sided glass tumbler which he promptly slammed on the top of the desk. "My head is killing me."

"What are you going to do about this investigation?" she asked, studying him dispassionately.

The Chief of State poured a shot, the bottle making its hurried glugging before he lifted the tumbler and threw it back, swallowing the liquid inside that burned a sweet, expanding sun his chest. "I haven't a clue."

"You can stall it?"

"For a while maybe, but not for long—not without garnering more suspicion, and thus, making their investigation even easier. I may as well go see an execution droid now and ask to be put out of my misery... Do you have any idea what they're going to do to me when they find out I'm the leak?"

The woman nodded. "The same thing they'll do to me and everyone else who's helping the Jedi."

Rodan's gray eyes stared into nothingness as his lip was drawn back in a sneer of self-loathing. "I don't know why I'm sticking my neck out like this."

"You're doing it because it's the right thing to do, Fyor," Klorne said, her own gaze seeming to soften for a moment. "And because you bear responsibility for all that has happened."

The Commenor natives face was blank as he looked up at Commander Klorne, not betraying the pulse of alarm he felt at her words. Did she know the truth? Rodan wondered as a thousand panic-fueled questions swirled within his racing mind.

But just as quickly as the surge of fear jolted through him, it was put to rest, and Rodan returned to the constant, nauseous state of unease he'd been trapped in for more than a year. Klorne didn't know anything—couldn't possibly know. If she did, Rodan imagined she would be pointing a blaster at his head right now.

A flash of a memory burst over his vision in grays, of a blaster pistol in his own shaking hand, its muzzle rattling like a metallic echo to his teeth chattering loudly in his skull, and a man beyond that weapon pleading for his life...

Fyor Rodan swept the memory away with more effort than should have been necessary and tried to forget all the horrible things he'd done since making the worst decision of his life.

It had begun more than two years ago when Rodan was simply the begrudging Senator from Commenor, still resentful of his failed bid for the office of Chief of State and the dubious circumstances of his defeat. An untraceable HoloNet communication had come into his home routed through several relays at the edge of known space from his older brother.

Tormak Rodan had always been trouble. From the time they were small children, Tormak had been full of mischief, testing his parents' patience with his behavior and eventually that of law enforcement officers on Commenor, while Fyor was the mature, responsible one. It was no surprise to anyone that Tormak had fallen in with the lowest form of scum in the galaxy like Jabba the Hutt and eventually settled into a "career" of smuggling illicit goods for more than three decades. Though the two had seldom talked in those years, and saw each other with even less regularity, Tormak's lifestyle had been a liability to Fyor's political career since the beginning, hindering his chances in every major election.

And it appeared that he'd finally gotten in over his head.

Tormak had been arrested beyond the Outer Rim by some mysterious patrol that claimed he'd wandered across their borders and pleaded with Fyor to negotiate for his release. Though Fyor despised the man, Tormak was still his brother and he could not refuse the request when Tormak's life was hanging in the balance and Fyor had the power to save him.

Fyor had taken his personal star yacht and a large sum of credits to an unremarkable point in the Unknown Regions where he'd agreed to meet with his brother's captors, but when he arrived he was surprised to learn that they didn't want credits or political favors. They didn't want anything from him really.

Instead, they had come to offer Fyor Rodan something.

It became obvious almost immediately that their interception of Tormak had been no accident—he'd been detained as a means to engineer this meeting with Fyor himself. Their chosen representative was a gangly creature called "Faybol" whose features were hidden behind an exotic black mask and a tattered scarlet cloak. They met on the bridge of a Raithian cruiser where Faybol offered Fyor Rodan everything he'd ever wanted.

The cloaked alien revealed to Fyor evidence he'd somehow obtained proving the first election for Chief of State of the Galactic Alliance had been secured through blackmail. He produced several recordings that depicted Talon Karrde and Lando Calrissian extorting votes from Senators away from Rodan in order to ensure Cal Omas' election, and even a damning piece where Karrde and Calrissian discussed their shameful operation with Jedi Master Luke Skywalker. Fyor had long suspected the Jedi had been involved in his defeat and was filled with fury and dark delight at finally seeing evidence of their crimes.

The offer was simple: Faybol would give the holovids to one of Rodan's political allies near the eve of the next election, forcing a disgraced Omas's defeat at Rodan's hands while simultaneously exposing Skywalker and the Jedi for the corrupt sorcerers they truly were. The Jedi would be similarly pushed out of the government in the wave of outrage that followed, and Fyor would be free of them once and for all. In addition, the Raithian Empire and their vast armada would join the Alliance, further bolstering their military to protect them against the threats the GA faced in the wake of the Yuuzhan Vong invasion.

It was as if Faybol had materialized out of nowhere to make Fyor's dreams come true.

But like all dreams, Fyor would have to wake up at some point.

In exchange for these gifts, all Faybol asked was that Rodan remain silent while the Vagaari— a brutal race of slavers and pirates the Raithians had long ago conquered— invaded Kuat. The crisis that followed would create a galaxy-wide panic with fears of the previous war still painfully fresh in their collected psyche, and the Raithians would arrive as saviors, demolishing their own slaves in an orchestrated war meant to permacrete their position as heroes of the Alliance.

Rodan was not a monster. He felt regret for the lives that would be lost at Kuat, and even some sympathy for the savage Vagaari. But with his brother's life hanging in the balance, what choice was there really? He could have everything he wanted with just a little sacrifice for the greater good...

Or at least, that was how he had rationalized his decision at the time.

He played his part as Faybol had instructed, and for a while, it had been Fyor's dream come to life.

Omas was disgraced and later arrested under suspicion of election tampering and treason, while Rodan ascended to his rightful place at the head of the Galactic Alliance. The Vagaari were annihilated in a battle at Denon and the Jedi, including their leader, Luke Skywalker, were either imprisoned with Omas or exiled.

But just as Rodan's moment of triumph felt complete, he was awoken by the true nature of his bargain. Faybol introduced him to the real power behind the Raithians.

Darth Malig.

A Sith Lord.

They brought Rodan to the GFS detention facility where Omas was being held and ripped the former Chief of State from his cell. Then, the Dark Lord instructed one of his Raithian guards to relinquish his sidearm to Fyor.

"Kill him," Malig said coldly. The voice beneath his mask was both ghostly and metallic.

It was the Way of the Sith, Rodan would soon learn. A rival had to be destroyed entirely in order to ensure he was incapable of exacting vengeance. But what Fyor felt in that moment was the full cost of his deal—the Sith owned him. If they could make him do this, they could make him do whatever they wanted, and if Fyor refused, he could be replaced just as easily as they'd supplanted Omas.

Malig wanted him to know this.

He saw the fear in Omas's eyes as Rodan leveled the blaster at him, the weapon shaking in his hand so badly he thought there was a good chance he might miss. He had hated Omas so much, despised him for taking the position that was rightfully his, but suddenly Fyor wanted nothing more than to spare his nemesis’s life. Omas begged for that life, but he also seemed to know that he could not be spared. Rodan could see it then without a doubt—that he was even more afraid than Omas... that his fate would somehow be worse then death.

His hand continued to tremble. The blaster rattled. Rodan's teeth chattered.

And he pulled the trigger.

A glowing hole scorched through Cal Omas that dropped him lifelessly to the unforgiving prison floor and the air around them swirled with discharged wisps of gray smoke and the acrid stench of burning flesh. Rodan stared down at him, fighting off a wave of nausea and the trembling fear that threatened to buckle his knees, knowing that it was only a matter of time before he would be next.

Still, he hadn't expected what came next, when a group of Jedi Knights infiltrated the then-capital of Denon and attempted to free their Jedi allies from GFS detention. They'd failed to free Skywalker and the others, who were whisked off to stars-only-knew-where, and were met with a ferocious Raithian opposition that seemed to have anticipated their arrival. But not before much of the Senate District on Denon was in shambles, and not before Mulla Habbas—Rodan's Minister of State, Kuati aristocrat, and devourer of cupcakes—was murdered by a Jedi.

Seeing Habbas's lifeless face gave Rodan a sort of mirror premonition to what he saw in Omas's. If Malig or his servants did not kill Fyor, then the Jedi eventually would. His schemes had left him caught in a trap from which there was now no escape.

One way or another, this was his future.

Some semblance of opportunity had shined on the Chief of State the second and final time he'd been taken before Darth Malig. The Sith Lord was displeased with the existence of a leak within the government and tasked Rodan with rooting it out, making it clear that if he failed to do so Malig would find someone else who was capable of running the Alliance.

There was, of course, no need for Fyor Rodan to ask what that meant for him.

Motivated by sleep-depriving trepidation, Rodan tracked the leak across Denon, following several hunches and even employing the illegal use of Federation Security's surveillance in order to find those responsible. The trail led him to a small band of traitors who were aiding the Jedi and Chiss in secret—Senators A'Kla and Triebakk, and Commander Lorra Klorne.

Rodan saw an opportunity and seized it. He pinned the leak on the GFI's Intelligence Director, Ayddar Nylykerka, whom had grown into something of an irritant and a threat, harassing him over prison detentions. This ridded him of Nylykerka and would keep Malig at bay for a time, effectively killing two wamp rats with one blast.

Then Rodan went to Klorne, told her he knew of her treason and that he wished to help. He made up a story about being duped by the Raithians and steadily realizing they were not who they claimed to be, that he'd been a fool to trust them and ostracize the Jedi. Klorne believed it because any alternative would have been absurd.

She knew nothing of the truth. He never told her of his dealings with Faybol or Darth Malig, and she, like the rest of the galaxy, knew only that Nylykerka was imprisoned on charges of sedition while the details of his alleged crime were sealed under the War Powers Act.

This was Rodan's only chance. If he could successfully play both sides against each other so that the ultimate victor believed he was a true ally, completely loyal to them, he might just survive this thing after all.

But if R'og's investigation went forward, Rodan could ultimately be exposed to both sides for what he truly was, and then it would only be a question of who was quickest to kill him for his betrayal—the Senate, the Jedi, or Darth Malig.

"So what do you suggest I do about it?" Rodan asked after a moment, pouring himself another drink. "I can't stall them forever."

"I guess... we hope that this war is over by then," Klorne replied solemnly.

"Oh, thank you, that's very helpful."

"Have you heard anything from General Solo?"

Rodan gulped down his second shot and winced before he looked back across the desk at the woman. "Are you joking? That boy never talks to me. He and the Raithians do whatever they want. Jacen Solo only comms if he needs something, and I haven't heard anything from him in over a month. What about you?"

Lorra Klorne shook her head. "No. I've done some digging but haven't been able to find anything. He's moved most of his fleet somewhere. They've pulled out of Chiss territory now, but there have been reported sightings of Raithian flotillas and full-scale fleets on a number of back-water worlds—Dathomir, Ossus, Mygeeto, Almania, Suarbi Seven, Yavin—"

"You may as well be speaking gibberish right now," Rodan interrupted curtly. "Why are they in these systems?"

"I don't know," the Commander admitted.

"Well see if you can find out. Have A'Kla talk to the Jedi and see what they know."

"I believe she already has. Skywalker is investigating."

Rodan resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "While he's at it, see if he can find out what happened to the Fifth Fleet. If this becomes a war between the Alliance and the Raithians, I don't think we're going to fare all that well with one of our fleets missing."

"I'm not sure Kre'fey would be interested in siding with us anyway," Klorne said, her green eyes seeming to stare past him into nothingness. "The Raithians asked me to attack Ossus before him, you know?"

"I didn't." Rodan leaned forward, suddenly interested in what the woman had to say.

"General Rénin came to me after Sien Sovv's death and tried to bribe me with the position of Supreme Commander if I would commit to attacking Ossus. He said he had your ear on the matter."

Again, Rodan tried hard not to let his face betray his true emotions. He had witnessed Sovv's execution at Rénin's hands, the late Raithian General and Sith Apprentice using his lightsaber to decapitate the Sullustan in Rodan's own office.

"I might have taken his advice," Fyor admitted. "At the time, I believed Rénin to be an honorable being—clearly I was mistaken."

Klorne waved his explanation off. "That's not what I was looking for. What I mean is that Kre'fey obviously accepted whatever Rénin was selling, because he talked Kre'fey into attacking Ossus. So, as I said, I'm not sure Admiral Kre'fey would be on our side even if he is still alive."

"But what did he offer Kre'fey? He was never made Supreme Commander."

"Not after that mess at Corellia, no. But maybe he would have if that hadn't happened, and if Rénin hadn't been killed."

"It's possible, though Rénin never said anything to me about it."

"I know the Raithians did something to him and the Fifth Fleet," the woman sighed. "The Jedi wouldn't ambush them."

"But what would the Raithians have to gain? Kre'fey and the Alliance are on their side—as far as they know."

She shrugged. "I don't know."

"Well you're just full of useful advice today, aren't you? What was it you said I should do about the investigation? Hope the war ends before it's completed?"

"You could try to encourage that a little," Klorne suggested. "If you were willing to come out against the Raithians, even just some criticism or throw a little support behind Corellia it might go a long way. Or if you were really bold you could use your war powers to kick them out of the Alliance and declare an actual war on them."

The options made Fyor feel like his whisky was coming back up.

"They'd have me killed if I showed the slightest tremble in my support, and we'd lose our advantage of having inside information... No, better they not know where my true loyalties are."

"I suppose that's true..."

Rodan thought frantically for something to change the direction of the conversation. "Anything else you wish to report to me, Commander?"

"Hm?" The woman looked up at him as though waking from a deep thought. "Oh," she said, her eyes darting back down at the datapad in her hand and began thumbing the controls. "There is this. We have not heard from the flotilla stationed at Zonama Sekot for at least three months. They missed their bimonthly report and we've been unable to reach them. It must be some sort of communications problem."


***


Wispy clouds of blue light wheeled around the Jedi Interceptor's transparent canopy as Kyp Durron tunneled through hyperspace on course for Zonama Sekot. The brief meditation trance he'd sunk into during the journey had relieved the physical exhaustion from the Coruscant mission but had done little to quell his emotional weariness.

Kyp was eager to return to Halo to see Mirax, Jysella, and Valin—his relationship with the latter having improved greatly since their dramatic escape from Apollyon. Valin and his sister seemed to have come to terms with Kyp and Mirax's relationship, and it felt as though they could all finally move forward if they could just be done with this blasted war.

For now though, the Jedi Master simply focused his attention on completing one last errand for Luke Skywalker. He would check in on Danni Quee, make sure everything was all right on Sekot—then he could go back.

The system Zonama Sekot had migrated to had no official name, and was known only to a handful of databases by its Imperial survey number, YKZ89515. There were a few uninhabitable planets and moons, but besides the Yuuzhan Vong and Ferroans, the only other beings in the system were the Alliance flotilla keeping vigil over the living world, and that would be Kyp's greatest obstacle in sneaking in and out unnoticed.

The navcomputer beeped and Kyp reached for his starfighter's reversion lever, pulling the instrument back and watching as the churning ocean of blue dissolved. But what he saw when the hyperspace portal vanished was not the starry black of space.

Instead, Kyp Durron saw hell.

He glimpsed it only for an instant before his green-armored interceptor was jerked violently off course and sent spiraling into the carnage. A blur of rubble peppered his cockpit's canopy, gouging long scratches and webbed pits into the transparisteel blister between Kyp and the angry abyss beyond. It drummed against the craft's stubby wings, sending low vibrations through the already powerfully quaking craft while a screech came from the astromech droid socketed on the starboard side when a whirling piece of metal debris split its dome open in a shower of white sparks.

Waves of competing energy pulled the starfighter one way and then the next, as though Kyp was caught in converging tides. Every warning and damage alarm in his cockpit seemed to blare at once but was nearly drowned out by the groan of protesting metal as the starfighter's durasteel frame was stretched to the limit. Through the maelstrom of swirling rocks and gases, Kyp spotted streaks of bright ejecta splashing into the void, belched from the system's star as though it was in its death throes.

The entire system had become completely unstable, orbital stresses crushing moons to dust and tearing planets from their paths, creating a vortex of displaced gravity pushing and pulling on everything around it. Black spot began to dot Kyp Durron's vision as his starfighter was flung along the edge of that vortex and slid backwards past a tumbling asteroid and shell of a hollowed Alliance Star Destroyer.

The last thought Kyp Durron had as he clung to consciousness was a terrifying one.

Zonama Sekot was gone.