Hoth, and Ruth had been using Lieutenant Pierce as her right-hand man. Captain Quinn had been content to stay off the frigid planet…more insistent than content, really…and Vette had overcome her distaste for him to stay on the ship as well, reasoning that even Captain No-Fun was better than Hoth. Ruth worried about Jaesa, even though she probably shouldn’t. Ruth couldn’t help but think the young and relatively inexperienced new Sith would have a hard time out there, so she had been finding lighter and safer work for her around Hoth’s main base. Meanwhile, Ruth had Pierce in the field.

In previous operations she had mostly sent Pierce on solo side jobs, anything that required lots of firepower and little finesse. Hoth reminded her why. His every piece of counsel was “blow it up” or “sod the rules, kill everyone in our way.” At least he kept this advice private; in front of others he was a model soldier, supporting his commander with unshakeable (if sometimes strangely grinning) dedication.

But when planning one-on-one: No, Pierce, we can’t just blow up the power station. No, Pierce, we can’t just gun down the Ortolans. No, Pierce, I’m not going to giggle at your impression of the Chiss guy’s accent…much. Stop that.

He was an Imperial, and a good one, that’s what mattered. But beyond that they were scarcely compatible. This was the difficulty of her military support: Ruth lived for the peace of a victorious Empire. Quinn lived for victory in the Empire’s war. Pierce lived for the war.

She could accommodate him when enemy territory was held beyond hope of negotiation. So when they decided on a mission in a minor White Maw pirate stronghold, Ruth let him take the gloves off. (The outer outer gloves. The gloves and the outer gloves were still necessary on Hoth.) At least it would mean some exercise. She disliked the necessity of killing, but if killing was necessary, well, the fight itself could be a real thrill.

“Time to go all out,” she informed Pierce as their speeders approached the base.

“Finally,” he said. “You won’t be disappointed.”

She dismounted, stalked around the last massive snow wall between them and the base entrance, and launched herself at the first set of guards.

It took three or four seconds for Pierce’s first rifle round to impact on a guard. “Should have prepared first,” he barked.

“What,” she yelled over the music of her sabers, “you worried?”

He answered that with a hard focused rifle burst that dropped the last standing guard before Ruth could get in range.

“We’re prepared now,” she said. “Right?”

“Just say the word. I’ll show you what I can do.”

Into the bunker and its winding hallways. They had looked over a floor plan before they left the Imperial base; Ruth hadn’t had quite the time she had wanted with it, but Pierce had spent fifteen seconds examining it and been ready to go with a recommended attack plan. The attack plan had, of course, involved a lot of explosives.

“That shouldn’t have worked,” she informed him, after the second major blast took out a full utilities corridor.

“Ha,” he said, and cocked his head, and kicked open a nearby door to reveal a dozen White Maw ruffians. “Hel-lo. Draw ‘em out and hit ‘em hard!”

She ran to where she could attack the pirates as they streamed out. “That may not have been – “

“What,” he called. “You worried?”

She got to work.

The fighting was glorious, she couldn’t deny that. She and Pierce cleared room by room, never minding the parts where they were wildly outnumbered. Everything was motion and adrenaline and the occasional guttural battle cry from her lieutenant. She couldn’t remember the last time she had swept through an operation for this long without stopping to confer or call home or reiterate the plan or…well…fuss.

They rounded the corner to their last stop, the command room that contained the computer data they needed. The floor was abuzz with activity, armed guards and assorted staff preparing for whatever their response to this attack was going to be. A catwalk above had several snipers who were actively on guard.

Pierce considered the scene. “Don’t like my odds here,” he muttered.

“Explosives?”

“Snipers’ll get me before I can deploy anything.”

She considered. “If I keep the snipers off you, can you blow the floor?”

“Yeah,” he said, “but they’re there and you’re here.”

“I can just about make that jump. Want to give me a boost to start?”

Pierce looked up at the catwalk. He looked at her. He looked at the catwalk. He looked at her. He chuckled. ”Like your style, my lord.”

On her mark he laced his fingers together and let her step up into his hands, then pushed. The Force and her own legs did the rest as she sprang up to the catwalk and got going, downing one sniper before he could raise his rifle, whirling toward the next few in a flurry of saber and excitement. A series of explosions beneath her shook the whole room and let her know that Lieutenant Pierce was hard at work. She cleared her catwalk and bounded down the narrow metal stairs to meet him on the floor, in the nook where their target computer awaited. She slid in a datacard and extracted the information they needed while Pierce worked on cleaning up a small smoking blaster shot in his armor.

Neither task took long. Ruth was still breathing hard; the frigid dry air of the bunker ripped like shrapnel in her lungs. But oh, the fight had been thrilling. “There,” she said, “we got the slicing codes for the first part of our little operation.” They stood there panting for a little while. Her muscles burned. And perversely ached for more. “If you’re tired,” she told Pierce, “we can call it a day.”

His grin was downright feral as he wiped sweat from the edges of his helmet. “I’m not even warmed up.”

Miriah stepped off the transport shuttle and looked over at Corso, waiting for his inevitable remark. He looked at her sheepishly, not able to help himself. “Can’t we ever go to a nice world?”he asked, grinning at her as she rolled her eyes. “At least it’s not hot,” he said, thinking of Tatooine and the sand that scorched as it worked into places sand ought not be. Ilum, in its pristine frozen state, was greatly preferable to that, he thought. Besides, he knew Mir would get cold soon, and he’d get to hold her close for warmth.

Miriah looked around her, and figured she’d haul jets to the Jedi temple ruins, at least at first, just to get a feel for this place. She set off toward the settlement, looking over her shoulder at Corso, who was still looking around the shuttle pad. “You coming?” she asked him.

“You got it. Right behind you, Captain.” He lifted the two packs of gear and shuffled off, appreciating his view of her as she strode toward the shelter. He didn’t know what was wrong with him lately, she’d proven to be more of a distraction than ever since they’d left Voss. I didn’t think it was possible for this job to get more complicated, he thought, but Voss had changed his mind. He was lost in thought as he stumbled down a frozen ramp, missing the patch of ice his heavily treaded boot slipped on. Down he went, the packs eliciting an “Ooof” when they landed on him. Miriah hurried back to help him up, tsking about watching his step in this ice.

“Don’t worry bout me,” he chuckled at her, as she brushed snow off them both, her gloved hands stiff with ice already. He could see her shivering under the dozen layers of clothing she’d put on. They walked to the quartermaster, discovering that the entire place was essentially packed ice. Corso could hear Miriah grumbling, muttering something about “damned frigid wasteland of a planet, no heat even inside.”

Miriah glared at the quartermaster, then turned her sullen gaze on her partner. “Don’t know why you’re looking at me, you’re in charge,” he told her, turning to the other man. “We’ll be fine, thanks.” He took the lead then, heading out to the speeder path. “Might as well keep moving, darlin’. Warmer that way.” He took the rented speeder from the vendor and turned it, gesturing for Miriah to climb aboard. When she did, he sat behind her, touching her every point he could to transfer some warmth to her. They took off at a moderate speed toward the Jedi ruins.

When they arrived and dismounted, Corso looked around with wonder. “Now we’re fighting to reclaim Jedi ruins? What have we gotten ourselves into?” He turned his confused look to Miriah, who was jumping up and down trying to keep warm. He shook his head at her, “I’ll say one thing, traveling with you is never dull.”

Under stealth, they moved through the ruins, Corso marking reference points on the map in his head, Miriah shaking so hard she was afraid she’d break stealth. When they made it back to the speeder, she’d had enough. “Let’s go back and I mean back to the ship. I’ll freeze to death out here.” He nodded, but when she tried to fire up the speeder, they discovered it had indeed already frozen. Miriah dismounted, kicking the disabled speeder with her numbed foot, then jumping around on the other, muttering curses worthy of a Nar Shadaa gang member.

When Corso had unpacked the portable solar generator and heater from his pack, she stopped hopping to stare. “Oh!” she said, “You’re a genius!” When the heater had thawed her a bit, she injected kolto in her injured foot, and for a few moments she was warm and happy.

“The heater won’t last all night, though, the generator doesn’t have enough time to charge, it’s almost dusk now,” he told her, prepared to trek in the bitterly cold night. “We can travel by foot, or wait til morning, your choice.”

“Grrrr, I guess we’re camping, and you know how much I like camping even in decent weather conditions,” she told him, testing out her foot before putting the three socks and her boot back on it. “Let’s at least drag our stuff back to that little ice cave closer to the entrance.”

When they’d found the spot, they unpacked what they’d need, rations, water and sleeping bags. Miriah maintained it was too cold to eat, and sat wrapped in her sleeping bag, coiled up in a little ball. They shared quarters on the ship, but now she was keeping her distance? I’ll never figure out women, he thought. Instead of voicing that thought, he simply said her name, opening his sleeping bag to her.

She didn’t need to think about it, she hastily climbed in next to him, setting the stealth generator up so that they could remain undetected by any passers by. He arranged her sleeping bag around them for extra insulation, and settled in, his natural heat generation quickly warming them both. He tried to remember that they were on a hostile planet in less than ideal conditions, but his senses were filled with her and he was definitely having trouble focusing on anything else.

“Corso?” she whispered, “Remember when you asked why we were doing this? My oldest sister is a Jedi.” He didn’t say anything for a minute, wondering why she hadn’t told him that before. He had no real issue with Jedi, he just didn’t know any personally. “For that matter, my mother and father as well.” They lay there, silent but not uncomfortably so.

“So you want to fight for these ruins for your family?” he asked her, not surprised at all when she nodded. “I get that,” he told her, kissing her head. He felt her relax against him, and just before he fell asleep, he whispered, “Anything you want, Captain.”

Crezelle yawned, rolled over in her bed, and lazily tried to let sleep eat another hour of time. Hyperspace travel from one sector to the next could take weeks, even over a month if the astrogation maps were out of date. It was near the end of particularly long trips like this one that she would grow sluggish, sleeping nearly as much as she was awake. She could get up, but most mornings like this she would doze lazily, letting her mind wander to every point in her imagination and memory. Some times the best things in life were the simplest.

Eventually her mind and body would become too restless to continue this morning ritual, and give way to daily tasks on ship. Shower, breakfast, check on each of the crew members to see how they fare. Diagnostics on the ship. Debriefings for individual crew projects. Even strengthening the social bonds between her and her crew was a task to be kept up to date. With a lot as dysfunctional as the one she was given in her life, keeping a cohesive community within her ship was a feat in itself.

"Temple, where did you hide Kaliyo's tequilla?

Kaliyo, she won't hide your booze if you don't give her reason to.

No SCORPIO, you use the test dummies for that, not the twovee unit.

Vector, keep your hatchlings out of the medbay, or i can't be responsible for what happens to them if they get into Lokin's projects.

Okay Lokin, i'll get you the samples by lunch, but i want to know EXACTLY what you need them for."

Check the progress of the flight. Landing in a few days. Got to keep the body in shape despite being in a small ship. Crezelle picked up the vibroknives she kept for practice, and headed to the cargo bay.

******

Vector kneeled off to the side in the cargo bay. It was quiet here, he could listen to The Song and the voices of the hive easier here without distractions. For the most part anyway. Despite all his mental training, killik joining, and tranquil composure he was able to maintain, he still enjoyed secretly watching his wife during her afternoon exercises. He could ask any time and she would more than gladly show him all he wanted, and then some, but there was some mischievous fun to be had, nobody being able to tell where his solid black eyes were looking as he seemingly sat in deep meditation, unaffected by all else around him. Despite sharing his life, his bed, his love, and his entirety with the galaxy's most adept agent, he was able to have this little secret right under her nose. She did not notice as he couldn't help but grin ever so slightly. The fingerlings surrounding him chattered in a mirror or his secret glee.

Her body in motion always captivated him. A combination of martial arts, stretches, and even dance were incorporated into her routine. The flash of the vibroknives as she weaved them into imaginary targets, the sound of her breathing intensifying, a low growl sometimes escaping her lips as she lunged at another invisible opponent. The curves of her body as she flexed and stretched. Fresh sweat mingled in the air she stirred about, and he couldn't help but selfishly breathe it in deeply. Stray locks of hair at the sides of her face swung with her movements like a dancer's skirt. Everything played out in a song that enraptured him, right down to the deathly fierce display of wrath her aura flickered and swirled in.

He blinked. Something was off with her aura. He rubbed his eyes and focused hard on his wife, now with only concern in his mind. Before he could even voice the question in his head, his host of fingerlings chimed in his head " we see it too!" their chattering and clicking of excitement caught Crezelle's attention. She looked over to find the joiner, gazing intently in her direction, the look of concern soon became one of realisation.

" Did i interrupt your little meeting? Your friends seem rather restless" The chiss raised an eyebrow curiously. " And why in the galaxy are you looking at me like that, i haven't let my training slip THAT much this trip" she flexed and poised her body to emphasise the point.

Vector smiled. " No, it's not that..."

" Then what ...? Your'e still hard to read as ever some days. What's going on in that little buggy head of yours?" She teased, walking up to him, and tapping him on the nose playfully." The star signs have frozen again? Electrons singing at you? An old joiner ex-girlfriend just told you in the hivemind that she hooked up with a colocoid? Come on, what's the little secret? And why won't your friends stop buzzing around me like i've been dipped in honey? Wait, that's an idea for tonight... " She grinned with an absent look in her eyes, imagining the potential. " I mean, without your friends."

" The nest always is overjoyed when it hears the notes of a brand new song" He tried his best to think of how to break things to her. " We noticed something about your aura... IN your aura. Like a tiny star amidst the swirling clouds of a nebula, it's there. A beautiful, new, spark of life.. " He looked away, almost seeming sheepish at the prospect of what he was saying.

" We weren't sure at first, but it is there. A second aura. It's beautiful. We wish you could see it."

She paused, and staggered backwards. " Wait...you mean...?"

Still smiling, he walked up to her, and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and nodded in silence.

A million questions came into mind for her. She had wanted children, and had even discussed the probabilities with Lokin on the matter. From what little knowledge they both had on chiss-human mingling, they theorised it would take years of trying before any results were made. This was much sooner than that. She was unprepared.

How will she continue her work in such a dangerous career?

What will the crew say?

How will she properly raise a family in this lifestyle?

Will it be healthy, being a hybrid?

As if he knew, he squeezed her reassuringly. " You are not alone in this, agent. New life can sprout in turmoil. Many mothers of many species have reared their offspring in the face of uncertainty, and against the odds for as long as The Song has played, and many will continue to long after us." She smiled as he kissed her forehead.

" And unlike many of them, you won't be alone. "

...okay. i think i wrote my fill of fluffs.

i always pictured him being overly engrossed with the magic of creating a new life in the galaxy, watching her expanding belly and the aura dance within it like it was the most awesome thing he had ever seen, babbling on and on about the first notes of a new song, circle of life, yadda yadda yadda

One of the aggravating factors in how much I hate the incident is the fact that I had reached my chance with Pierce less than two hours previously, had hesitated for several minutes, and had ultimately gone with "My character would never ever hurt Quinn like that." And I turned Pierce down. And then I fell facefirst into a pit full of "Here's how Quinn will choose to thank you."

Stars, I hate that man.

14 BTC. Kaas City, Dromund Kaas.

"Brigs, what is this?"

Darth Ehran Niral was speaking to someone off the holo camera. Colran waited. Of course his father was going to play up the drama.

"My lord," said the someone, "when Colran called I - "

"Oh, it has a name, does it?"

Back when he was a Sith acolyte Colran would've felt ashamed, would've waited for permission to speak. Now, though: "Father. I'm coming to visit."

Ehran looked at his youngest son for one half-second of withering scorn. Then the holo image snapped off.

*

The Niral compound was some ways west of Dromund Kaas. Here, amidst his father and brothers, was where Colran would have to start his return to Sith society. The prospects of a Jedi padawan had been less than inspiring; from Dromund Kaas he could begin this crazy plan to start using his Sith influence for good. He could call the strange blue-eyed woman who had challenged him to try, let her know that at least one Sith was ready to help. But first he had to earn the right to reenter his own house.

He crested the ridge above the estate and saw a lot of guard activity around the gate. A welcoming party. He would just as soon skip butchering his own household guards. He parked his speeder and worked his way around the high wall to a back door. The right user could run a slick Force trick to access the catch in the gate and get in.

The estate was oddly quiet. Colran kept his hood up as he slipped into the house proper and started toward the heart of the building, the great Niral audience chamber.

When he first heard the crackle of Force lightning, he started running.

He rounded a corner of one hallway and saw several unmoving figures. Combat crashed someplace further in. Into the great hall's antechamber: people, fallen, everywhere. Guards in livery. Guards in unfamiliar armor. People in robes. He didn't have time to stop and examine, not with the sounds coming from the audience chamber.

He ran in and took quick stock. Four people lying unmoving on the floor. One crawling, lightsaber drawn in one hand, toward one of the still figures. No, not quite still. The wounded Sith with the saber was going for a killing blow on - the target lifted his head enough for Colran to see his face - none other than Darth Ehran Niral.

Father. Colran didn't hesitate to reach forth and turn the crawling Sith's saber up into its bearer's face. A quick telekinetic push, a quick kill. Defense. Colran strode past the stranger and knelt next to his father.

Ehran was in bad shape. His aged face was livid, his expensive robes smelled scorched from the battle. He scowled fiercely at his son.

"You almost got something right," gasped Ehran. His first words to Colran in fifteen years. "Stripping my support, weakening my name in the city, getting the right people to turn a blind eye. I've been waiting for the blow. But you should've known better than to come yourself. Even wounded as I am, I can take a failure like you."

"I'm not here to fight you, father. What happened? Who are these people?"

"They're true Sith. I know why they're here. You, however, have no excuse to be in my house."

Colran scanned the room with his senses and picked up a poorly-masked ball of excitement nearby. He turned to a shadowy nook behind a pillar. "Come out. Who are you?"

A slim masked figure in either dense metallic armor or a mostly-cyborg body walked out into the light. "Colran the legendary Jedi,” it said in a feminine voice. “I wasn't expecting you. If you're not going to kill your father I'll have to ask you to step aside. I've worked too hard to get here."

"Darth Osetta," said Ehran.

"Ehran. I'm so sorry it took me so long to set up for this."

"After so many years of our little shadow dance, I thought you lacked the nerve."

"Not likely. Your eldest is dead at your gate, old man. Your second is dead in a pleasure house in Kaas City. Your third is dead in the antechamber here. Your youngest will fall soon. Then everything you have will be mine. Last I heard, you and the boy were on bad terms. Would you like to strike him down yourself?"

"I appreciate you leaving me that chance."

"Father, you don't mean that. If we band together we can - " Colran’s sentence ended in a grunt as Ehran shot one hand forward with a spear of lightning. It hit like fire and pain and...and life, somehow. Like something he had forgotten a long time ago, something bright and red and right.

Colran didn't strike at his father. Instead he backed off and pulled together the tremendous concentration to Force drag the strange woman into place squarely between Colran and Ehran. The old man's next lightning strike hit her, and she lashed back in kind. Good. Good. This Darth Osetta first, and then...then what had to happen would happen.

She absorbed Colran's initial attacks without so much as flinching, and she kept her attention and her unmerciful Force lightning stream on Ehran. Ehran fired back weakly, his Force demonstration spitting and nearly falling short.

Colran started throwing things. Decorations, the fallen useless blasters of the dead, anything that might damage her.

She put up a shield and sent a devastating, blinding burst of Force power at Ehran. Colran yelled wordlessly and, with a sudden strange ease, tore her shield aside to close crushing force around her mask and helmet. Enemy. Crush. Kill. This was the way.

He let Osetta fall and ran to kneel by Ehran’s side. His father’s Force aura was weak, getting weaker, with raw damage far beyond what mere blades could have dealt.

"Don't...touch me," said Ehran, before Colran could set a healing hand on him. "I don't know...why you returned...and...I don't care."

"Be quiet. I'll get you fixed up."

”Don't. touch. me.”

Stars strike me down, thought Colran, if I ever treat my child as you’ve treated me. He had expected he would have to play this by anger. He had been right. “I'm not here to beg your approval, father, I'm here because I finally have a use for this house's resources. I just didn't expect it all to leap into my lap when I arrived on planet. Anything useful you want to tell me before I remake House Niral?"

“It pains me...to die, knowing that...that I have only you to carry my name...Jedi."

"I’ll enjoy undoing the horrors you’ve dedicated your life to, father. Goodbye." Colran laid his carefully practiced control over the running current of his anger, and he set his hand on his father's forehead and pressed rest there. Darth Ehran's wounds would kill him this night, but he wouldn't be suffering for it.

Then Colran reached to his father's side and claimed his lightsaber. Eight years an apprentice, seven a padawan, and here is the first weapon I can call my own. Jedi build their own first sabers...but Sith take them.

Brigs crawled into the doorway. "My lord," he said weakly.

Colran wiped his eyes and ran to kneel beside his family's most faithful servant. "Brigs. You okay?"

A little blood was trickling down Brigs' temple. He was an average man of average build, tending into an average sort of middle age, but his determination and loyalty were unmatched. "She knocked me aside. Wasn't even allowed to fight. I'm sorry."

"You couldn't have stopped her." Colran firmly pushed Brigs to the ground and commenced the Force meditation to ease and heal his head wound. There would be no lasting damage, except to the man's pride. "How much can you tell me? Did you see who else came in?"

"Darth Osetta, five apprentices, some soldiers. I summoned the guard. Your brother Fyne fell at the gate. Took two apprentices with him. Your brother Lendlan stood with me, here. But Osetta came in with her three. They knocked me out. If you killed her people in there, then any remaining enemies on the grounds would be mere gunmen."

“I missed my brothers by less than an hour, then.” Not that their welcome would have been any warmer than Ehran’s.

“Seems that way. I’m sorry, my lord.” Brigs examined his face. “You’ve grown a bit since last I saw you. I don’t know what brought you back, but I’m glad to see you. This place needs a Niral.”

Colran sprang to his feet when he heard someone running down the hall. But the guard captain who appeared was in Niral livery. He looked uncertainly at Colran, waited until he saw Brigs' nod, then saluted smartly. "My lord. The grounds are secure. Is Darth Ehran...?"

"Darth Ehran has fallen, as have Lords Fyne and Lendlan. But the attacker is dead." Colran finally pulled his hood back. "I don't know if you remember me, captain, but I am Colran Niral. I'm in charge now."

My Warrior Ruth never knew her father’s family, and perhaps that’s just as well. They were evil. They got screwed in another standard Sith power play, another part of their membership in the Sith system. Eventually Colran and Ruth will get screwed for trying not to be part of the Sith system. In summary, being Sith is really depressing!

Darth Ehran would’ve approved of his granddaughter’s career rise and fiercely disapproved of how she insisted on being merciful and reasonable the first 90% of the way.

I just remembered that Ruth will inherit this house after Colran dies. I’d better figure out what she does with it. She could hang out there in her spare time. It really is prime brooding real estate: an old house half lost in darkly overgrown gardens under a perpetual twilit rainfall.

I got the "I'm getting promoted!" speech right after he tried to kill me. You think I'm signing that, boyo, you're very much mistaken.

Kaliyo's companion quest where you discover she has been selling secrets to Wheezer since the beginning occurred for me right at the transition to Quesh. After I broke into Intelligence archives to figure out what the heck was going on. And I'm already a double agent. My god like I'm not under enough suspicion as it is.

I never really liked Kaliyo, but I so much wanted to shoot her right then. I could think of no good reason to keep her alive.

Quinn acts any differently if your affection with him is low at the time. Whether he says anything like 'I'm okay with doing this' or even 'I've wanted to do this.'

Kaliyo's Wheezer quest is the other point where I do not comprehend why I can't kill the offending companion. I love her. I consider her one of the sexiest companions I've met. Wynston has a great time with her. She needs killing. There is no way that scene ends except with 'You're too dangerous for me to let you walk away alive and too malicious for me to let you stay.' There's really no good time for that scene to come up.

I still really like the woman, perhaps because 'treacherous' and 'dangerously insane' were baked into her appeal from day one. But she should be dead, dumped in an unmarked grave next to Quinn.

No, the conversation is no different to my knowledge. He expresses the same amount of regret at having to (try to) kill you. My warrior being male meant I didn't have the added complication of the romance arc.

Thing is, Kaliyo is an interesting character. It came as no real surprise that she was running some kind of angle; cashing in on her connection with your character. The writers showed you all along that she lies and stabs everyone in the back. So from that standpoint, I don't hate her.

Maura stretched lazily, the ship’s internal lighting controls signaling early morning. As she stretched, her foot met the solid presence of muscled leg, which only twitched in response. She looked over her shoulder, a little surprised to see Aric still there. He usually was so concerned about the rules and anyone knowing they were together that he made plans to be gone back to the crew quarters by now. She smiled and shifted toward him, still facing the door, when he grabbed her and drew her against him.

“Hey, what’s this?” he growled softly, his voice raspy from sleep. He traced his finger along the tattoo on her shoulder. “I didn’t see this before, but then again, we usually don’t have a lot of lighting.” She laughed at his observation.

“Yes, I’ve had that a long time now.” She didn’t offer any further explanation, but he persisted.

“I know you’d never get a tattoo that didn’t mean something, Maura.” He moved to sit up, “but if you don’t want to talk, I’ll..” He was stopped by her arms around his shoulders, pulling him back to her.

“It’s just a tat, Aric, nothing more. Something my sisters and I did a very long time ago. Now, we’re awake early, I’m sure we can figure out something better to do than talk.” She smiled at him, then frowned as he pulled away.

“Why can’t I know you, Maura? I thought this,” gesturing between them, “was more than just fun.”

She sighed, “It IS more than just fun, but we have so little time together as it is…” She put her head on his shoulder. “It’s really kinda silly, now, and I’d forgotten it was there for the most part.” She took a moment to gather her thoughts. “I told you my father is dead, right?” He nodded, waiting for her to continue. “He was a Jedi, a poetic soul who wrote things in his journal that were so beautiful, they’d make my sisters and me cry. He was killed on Coruscant, months before my youngest sister was born.” Here she sat up, pulling the sheet to cover her. “He wrote this poem, about the stars in the sky and how his stars weren’t in the sky but appeared in miniature form, smiling at him over a meal every day.” She reached back and let her fingers graze the ink on her left shoulder. “Thus the stars, three of them. One for each of us. My older sister’s is the largest, the yellow one. Mine is in the middle, the blue one, and my younger sister’s is the purple one. She never knew him, and it haunts her to this day. We got these tattoos, all identical, the day I left for the academy.”

Maura hadn’t thought about the tattoo or her sisters in quite a while. They all had separate lives, and it wasn’t unusual for months to go by without them talking, but just now, telling Aric about them, she felt ashamed that she’d been distant.

She got up to dress, and Aric watched her, silent. She turned to brush her hair when she felt him behind her, taking the brush from her hand and running it down the russet waves himself. “ I know how protective you can be, Major, but your sisters need no protection from me. I want to know you, and your family. “ He kissed her shoulder, where the tattoo now lay under cortosis weave.

They were very late for morning formation.

“Are we absolutely sure Dr. Lokin isn't going to get hurt doing this?” Brei'yu asked as she pulled dark brown leggings up to her hips.

“Lokin can take care of himself,” Adris answered, his back turned while Brei was dressing.

“Then why are you here? Get out, voyeur.”

Adris chuckled and left the room, seeking Vector. Locating him on the bridge of all places, Adris handed him a set of wrap around eye shields that would cover his black eyes completely. “You ready to do this?” he asked as Vector studied them.

“We are prepared. We know our part but we are not clear about Brei'yu.”

“Listen, Vector. You're going to see things, and hear things that you aren't going to understand. I can't give you any answers. It's really not my place. If she doesn't want to talk about it, just respect that alright?”

Vector regarded Adris with a calm eye. “We will not ask if she wishes not to tell. And we will not speak of what we see and hear.”

“Good man. Go get dressed, we don't have a lot of time.”

“As you wish.”

Brei'yu sauntered toward Adris and he had to do a double take. Her body was clad in loose robes the color of dried mud. She'd let her hair down and it fell straight down her shoulders, one side tucked behind an ear naked of her usual jewelry. But oddest of all, trailing behind her by four or so steps was Vector, his black hair hung free around his face instead of being combed back and he had on the black, opaque shield Adris had given him which sat on the bridge of his nose, covering the entirety of his eyes. He too was dressed in brown robes, sashed with a darker brown cloth and from the cloth dangled a lightsaber.

Brei'yu was good. Vector wasn't even sweating in the Tatooine heat.

She walked up to the bar and took the seat three down from him, Vector put himself on her other side and silently clasped his hands. To Adris's left, a man sat alone, a glass of water before him. He looked up and then down the bar passed Adris as though the agent wasn't there, his gaze assessing, curious.

Brei'yu quietly ordered water for her and for Vector and then sat in silence, her eyes straight ahead and a little unfocused, as though listening to something unseen or unheard by others. The man to Adris's left finally got up and walked over. When he reached Brei'yu's side she turned and looked up at him, as though having sensed his presence all along.

It was a little spooky.

The man pressed his hands together and gave a half bow. “I didn't realize the Council was sending a Master out here,” he said. His voice was flat and accentless.

Vector didn't speak, didn't acknowledge the man's presence. Brei'yu cocked her head as though in confusion. “I'm sorry,” she said politely, her words rounded with a well known Alderaan dialect. “I'm afraid I don't understand. We're not here on Council business. Just passing through, actually.”

Now it was the man's turn to be confused. “The Council didn't send you here to help find Master Vossan? Master Eriz Vossan?”

“No,” Brei'yu said. “Master Vec and I are here because there's rumors that the rakghoul plague has escaped Taris and migrated here. You haven't heard?”

The Jedi sat, stunned. “No, I hadn't. Master Eriz was studying the balance of life on planet. I wonder if this has anything to do with his disappearance.” The Jedi glanced back up. “I'm sorry. I'm Jeksian Gan.”

“It is good to meet you, Jeksian. This is Master Vec Hyl. I am his Padawan, Bree Yunvas.”

Adris drank from his glass to hide a smile. Brei'yu had insisted that keeping important details as close to the truth as possible would make for a better lie. She's also told Vector to speak as little as possible and the man was doing an admirable job so far.

Jeksian looked across Brei'yu to Vector who still had not acknowledged him. “It's an honor to meet you, Master Vec.”

Vector's face turned slightly and he gave a nod. “And you,” he said in a low voice, disguising his Imperial accent with short flat vowels.

Jeksian leaned into Brei'yu lowering his voice. “That's a mask? Is Master Vec..?”

Brei eyed him and his brazen question. “He's Miraluka. That means he's blind, but he can hear perfectly well.”

“I meant no offense,” Jeksian said quickly.

Brei'yu opened her mouth to answer but was cut off when Ensign Temple burst into the mostly empty cantina.

“Help,” Raina panted. “I need help. I need...” she looked desperately over the room then spotted Jeksian at the bar. “Jedi! I need Jedi! You must help.” She rushed to him, holding her hands out imploringly.

“Calm down,” Jeksian said. “Start from the beginning.”

“My uncle,” Raina wept. “That thing, I think it's killed him. We were south of the Dune Sea, in the cave system. There's edible roots there and we were gathering. That.. .that thing came out of no where. Uncle told me to run. Please. Please help.”

“What did this thing look like?” Brei'yu interjected.

“It... I'm not sure. It was gray. Squat. Roared like an animal but was up like a man.” Raina scrubbed her face. “I was so scared I just ran.”

“Rakghoul,” Brei'yu said. “They are here.” She turned to Jeksian. “We're going to have to go. Even if it's just one rakghoul, it could turn dozens of people in days. Dozens more will die.”

“Let me help,” Jeksian said. “I remember the rakghouls on Taris.”

Got you. Adris thought.

Brei'yu looked at Vector who nodded once and stood. “Alright,” she said, having gotten the okay from her Master. “But we have to be fast. You stay here,” she pointed at Raina.

The Jedi and his associates rushed from the cantina to their speeders as Raina watched. When they were out the door her tears dried up and she took the seat next to Adris.

“We'll give them 10 minutes and then make our way out there,” Adris said. “Nice fat tears you had going there.”

Raina pulled her tunic aside, showing Adris a red spot of blood on her thigh. “I stabbed myself right before I came in.”

Adris cursed and reached in his backpack for a medpack.

Vector raced over the sands of Tatooine and felt strangely free. He didn't often worry that his appearance was off putting to others, but for the first time in a long time he wasn't getting strange looks and questions because his eyes were black.

Now he got them because they thought they weren't there.

People were so disgustingly short-sighted sometimes.

They reached the cave where Raina had directed them, identifying their target by the two cold speeders that sat out front. Twilight was falling over the desert and the sky blazed with reds and golds and oranges that were unique to this world. Shadows had already descended into the cave mouth making them look like hungry monstrous maws. Even Brei'yu briefly hesitated.

Vector stepped up beside her and hid her body with his own as she activated the homing beacon on her speeder. She pulled out a lamp and took a breath.

“We might not have a lot of time. If that man is still alive then he's certainly injured,” she said as she climbed to the entrance.

Vector and Jeksian followed and Brei'yu walked in, almost immediately pointing out signs of the place being a rakghoul lair. The cave turned out to be more of a tunnel system than a real cave and Brei'yu stopped at the first junction, clearly unsure where to go. She glanced helplessly at Vector for a moment. This hadn't been in the script.

“The Force will guide us,” Jeksian said with certainty. He pressed his hands together and bowed his head and Brei'yu quickly copied the gesture. The Jedi glowed with a faint golden light and Vector looked on with interest. Then he lifted his head. “That way,” Jeksian said, pointing down the west tunnel. “I feel suffering that way.”

As the young Jedi started forward, Brei'yu fell in behind him and mouthed to Vector 'Suffering?' That definitely wasn't in the script.

The rakghoul attacked at the second junction, leaping from the shadows with a scream and bounding into Brei'yu, knocking her over. Jeksian pulled his lightsaber free and moved to corner the beast. Brei'yu rolled to her knees. “Now Vector!”

Vector grasped his stolen lightsaber and advanced on the Jedi, cracking him soundly on the back of the head and catching his body on the way down. Vector laid Jeksian on his back and the Jedi groaned.

“We don't have a lot of time,” Brie'yu said as she fished under her robes for the syringe Lokin had given her. She gently injected Jeksian with it, putting him in a twilight that would allow him to hear and understand her. As she heard Adris and Raina jogging up the tunnel she pulled off her gloves. Across the room Dr. Lokin stumbled out from behind a rock, naked and scratched. Adris arrived and handed him clothing then crouched next to Brei'yu.

“Is he ready?”

“We're about to find out. Jeksian,” Brei'yu said, putting her hands on his cheeks and rolling his face toward her. “I want you to remember your 15th birthday. Do you remember? There it is.” Her eyes fluttered mostly closed as Vector watched. “Jeksian. Two months ago were you on board a Republic starhopper called the Crimson Pointe? Yes, yes you were. There was a woman on board with a nine year old boy. She had blonde hair and a scar over her right eye. Did you see her? Do you remember that woman?”

Adris stood and told Raina to go watch the entrance. He ordered Lokin back to the outpost to ready the makeshift medical bay. Both left reluctantly. He turned to Vector.

“She is reading his memories,” Vector said quietly.

Adris sighed. “You gave me your word you won't speak of this. Your hive won't speak of this. This didn't happen.”

“We will bury the memory in the collective unconscious. Should it ever be found again, it will be long after we've gone and will not matter.” Vector looked down at Brei'yu who was still asking Jeksian questions, pausing to watch what he was showing her every so often. “How does she do it?”

“Brei'yu is Force sensitive. She'd never be Jedi or Sith, even with training. But this thing she does, reading surface thoughts and memories, she does it through physical contact and the Force. I don't think she even knows how to works, just that it does.”

Brei'yu stood, finished with Jeksian. “Darth Leyra was on the Crimson Pointe and she had the kid with her. Jeksian didn't speak to her over much, he knew she was a Force sensitive but not that she was Sith. He did over hear her talking to a Master Sayo Vixxel? She said they were debarking at Carrick Station. But according to Jeksian's latent memories, she actually got off before he did, when they docked briefly on Alderaan. I'm going to hazard a guess that that wasn't her final destination. So she's lying even to random Jedi. Where ever they're going, she doesn't want them found.”

“We'll have to go to Alderaan,” Adris said apologetically.

Brei'yu set her jaw and looked about to argue. But she caught herself and let out a long breath through her nose. “We'll talk about that. But first we have to get him out of here.”

Jeksian woke on his back in a well lit room, his head aching in rhythm with his heart beat. He groaned and covered his eyes with his hand.

“Good, you're awake.”

He looked over to see Bree sitting on a table, her legs dangling over the side. Her face was bandaged under her chin down her neck and her shoulder was wrapped up. Master Vec stood behind her, getting kolto injected into his arm.

“What happened? Is everyone okay?” Jeksian asked, rolling slowly on to his side.

“You don't remember?” Bree asked with surprise.

“Careful, son,” said a male voice behind his head. Jeksian looked up to see an elderly doctor grin down at him. “You took a massive knock to your noggin. You're going to want to take it easy.”

Bree nodded in agreement. “What do you remember?”

“Um, we went into the cave and... it gets fuzzy.”

Bree looked sympathetic. “That rakghoul knocked you around pretty good before Master Vec could draw its attention. But you weren't scratched or bitten, so you don't have to worry about that.”

“That girl's uncle?”

“Alive. Being saved for a snack or something. You did good, Jek. You were a big help.”

Jeksian laid back on the bed. “I wish I could remember.”

Brei'yu was pulling her Jedi costume off before she'd even completely made it onto the ship. She'd left Jeksian in the care of a giant Trandoshen whose name she didn't catch because she didn't want the lizard looking too close at her. He'd been a good kid and she was grateful they had managed to work The Plan so he didn't sustain any serious injury. He was just looking for that missing Jedi Master anyway.

As she pulled a tunic over her head there was a knock at her door. She keyed it open with some impatience. “Adris I don't really... oh. Vector. I'm sorry. I thought you... never mind.”

Vector stood outside her room. “We wanted to tell you, Agent, that your secret is safe with us. We know that if Imperial Intelligence, or any Sith knew what you could do, you would be in danger. And we don't want that for you. But we are curious. Could you... could you...” Vector trailed off, suddenly unsure how to continue. “Actually, perhaps it is better if we do not ask.”

Brei'yu leaned on the door frame and crossed her arms. “Vector, don't call me Agent. But now you have me curious. Could I what, now?”

Vector fidgeted, which was very unlike him. “Could you do the same to us? The younglings are hatching and the hive will be singing the Song of New Cycle. We... we would like to share it with you.”

Brei'yu felt her mouth drop open. “I... Vector. I'm... I'm touched. But, I would be inside your head. Anything you thought while I was there would be shared with me.”

“We are very good at controlling our thoughts,” Vector answered.

Brei'yu thought it over for a moment. The connection would go both ways. Little bits of her thoughts and emotions would be picked up by him as well. Was it worth risking? She wanted to hear the song, but did she want Vector to know how badly she wanted to hear it?

“Okay. Sit down. Be comfortable.” Brei'yu lead him over the her bed where they sat with their backs against the wall. She took his bare hands in hers and looked into his eyes. “Just relax. I do all the work here.” She flicked the switch in her mind that sparked the connection and then...

There were people and thoughts and feelings and joy and singing and color in her mind. Vector was there and he latched on to her right away, guiding her, steadying her. Her world sang as the hatchlings were born.

In their minds, Vector held her and she celebrated with him.

Part of the reason it went a little long was that I included the connection between Brei and Vector at the end. It was going to be a separate story but I thought last night that it was perfect place to include it. This takes place right after Confessions and Communications Breakdown. I changed my mind and decided both conversations were about the Plan after all.

I tried really hard to stay out of Mary Sue territory with Brei. I'm overly paranoid about that kind of stuff. But the paid job Adris took to find Darth Leyra and her son was the whole reason Adris needed Brei'yu to join with his crew in the first place. She's got that thing, and he needed her to use it for him. Someday I'll write how they met and what exactly happened on Alderaan. So yeah, I don't want Brei to fall into super special category just because she's got a thing, which is why I put really heavy restrictions on it.

Through physical contact only, and since no one can know what she can do because imagine what Imperial Intelligence would do to get their hands on that kind of ability, she can't use it on people who are fully awake and conscious because they'll remember. And everyone knows that memory is notoriously unreliable. Our brains create memories of things that never happened on suggestion. So it's not the be all end all solution to finding something or someone. Am I over explaining this? Brei didn't spring from Mary Sue did she?