This above all: to thine own self be true,

And it must follow, as the night the day,

Thou canst not be false to any man.

(Shakespeare, Hamlet)

A sulky Corellian teenager, with bilateral ocular cybernetic implants and papers naming her as Tanera Beg, disembarked from an Imperial transport on the space station in orbit about the world of Korriban. A fierce-looking Sith Lord, bearded, hawk nosed, yellow eyed, accompanied her.

After the formalities which even Sith had to undergo on entry to Korriban, the Lord marched his charge into the shuttle, then, from the landing pad, along the short path, up the broad ramp into the Sith Academy, and straight to the Acolyte entry reception.

"I am Lord Retrost. I found this misbegotten scum lurking in the underworld of Corellia. She is Force-sensitive. You will enrol her as an Acolyte." His tone allowed no possibility of compromise.

"Y-yes, my Lord", said the unnerved reception clerk, a weedy looking older man with watery eyes and a prominent Adam's apple balancing the slave collar on the back of his neck. "She is .. rather older than most of our entrants and we normally expect them to have received training and assessment at an off-world academy before coming to Korriban. I'm not sure ..."

Retrost leaned across the desk, looming menacingly over the now pale and sweating clerk. "Did you hear what I said?" An ominous red nimbus began to form around him.

The clerk gulped. "Of c-course, my Lord, I was not questioning you ... it's just that there is some difficulty in placing older Acolytes and the less-trained, w-we need to balance the classes ... " He was flicking frantically through lists on his screen.

Lord Retrost folded his arms and waited, exuding a dark aura of impatience.

Finally, after what was only a couple of minutes but which probably felt to the unfortunate clerk like several lifetimes, he found something hopeful and gabbled quickly and defensively, "I have a possible place for her, my Lord, but it is not completely suitable and her training will not start for another week. Overseer Quinag's group is scheduled to undergo their final trials in four days and then we have a total of fifty-three older Acolytes who will be assigned to him. That is already five above the normal maximum but perhaps the Overseer will let her be added to that group. Most of them have already had some training but ...." He trailed off, still sweating.

"I will speak with Overseer Quinag. Arrange an Academy induction day and assign her a place in the Acolyte quarters."

Without looking at her, he snapped his fingers peremptorily at Tanera. "Girl, here, give this snivelling worm your details."

The teenager slouched across from where she'd been leaning on the wall behind Retrost and plonked her ID down on the desk. She let some of her Force power leak out, and put on a malicious grin as the clerk flinched. She felt Retrost's approval.

The clerk entered all the information, regaining his composure as he went through the familiar routine. Finally his terminal spat out a number of small thin datacards, each with a different colour code. He inserted them into a basic datapad, naming them off in a bored monotone as he did so. It was obvious that he'd gone through this many hundreds of times before.

"These are your Acolyte ID, your Korriban Academy registration card, a map of the Academy buildings marked with the permitted areas for an Acolyte and your assigned quarters, and your Acolyte Requisitions allowance card. Two sets of Acolyte clothing and one training saber are provided, all other requisitions will need to be endorsed by your Overseer or a Sith of Lord rank or above. You'll need your registration card for meals in the Acolyte Refectory. Messages from your Overseer will be indicated by this red light, messages from anyone else will be shown by the purple light. Do not lose this datapad, it will be reason for punishment."

He snapped the cover of the datapad back into place and handed it to her along with her ID, careful not to actually touch her fingers.

"Your induction day will begin one hour after dawn tomorrow and you will meet the Instructor at the top of the ramp at the main entrance." He glanced apprehensively at Lord Retrost, who nodded curtly.

"Satisfactory, eventually."

The clerk started sweating again.

Retrost ignored him and locked his gaze on Tanera. "You will report to me in the guest quarters in two hours. If your formal training is not to begin for a week, I will use that time for initial instruction. I will see to it that you do not disappoint me."

She shrugged. "Yeah, whatever."

Instantly she was flung across the corridor, colliding painfully with the wall and held against it by a crushing wave of Force power from Retrost. "You will learn respect, girl. Let this be your first lesson in the Academy. Do not cross me."

The clerk discreetly faded backwards from his desk, as far away as possible from the coldly angry Sith Lord. A couple of Acolytes who'd been approaching the desk stopped well short of it and tried to pretend they weren't noticing anything.

Tanera managed a faint resentful croak: "Yes, my Lord."

Retrost released his hold and she crumpled to the floor, pulling herself up to a sitting position with not quite hidden fury.

"Two hours", Retrost repeated, and stalked off in a flurry of robes. The Acolytes almost threw themselves out of his way.

Twelve years earlier

Reler was four years old when she first discovered that she could see things other people couldn't, mostly colour. She didn't know it was colour, as such, because Miralukans didn't see colour and never talked about it, she just knew it was something different. The cool red dwarf sun Aber, which shone dimly on her home planet of Alpheridies, was irrelevant to Miralukans. They didn't use eyes to see, only the Force. But for most people, that just meant ordinary seeing, shapes and patterns and where things were so you didn't bump into them.

To her, though, the world was all outlined in different lights, not just ordinary light and shadow which didn't have any proper colours, only greys. She didn't have any words for the colours but she could recognise them. The hills and rocks were brown and black and grey and purple and lots of other colours, but always dim and never changing. Water light might be sparkly silver in rivers or smooth bluey grey in lakes. Plants had a quiet greeny bluey sort of colour which was brightest in spring and almost black in winter. Animals were brighter than plants and tended to orangey yellows and sometimes spiky red if they got scared or angry or fierce. The pet nekarr cat that belonged to their neighbours was mostly orange, but when it was stalking something, it went very quiet and the colours went very dark and almost vanished, which she thought was very clever.

People were brighter still and had all sorts of colours, often mixed, and always changing. She began to figure out that this happened when they were happy or sad or excited or angry, and she could tell when people were lying or telling the truth. She was fascinated by this, and spent a long time watching everyone and everything. She got the reputation of being a thoughtful young girl.

She asked her mother about these special colours one day. Her mother explained how most people didn't see what Reler did, and her own colours went mixed, purple and blue pleased and proud and muddy brown worried-scared all at the same time. But there was no falter in the warm happy golden loving colour behind them.

"It makes you very special, dearest", and she hugged Reler and kissed her.

"How is it special?" enquired the little girl.

"Every Miralukan can use the Force to see, but not many see very much. You can see much more than most of us."

"But why is that scary? Are you frightened of me now?" Her face was full of worry.

"Oh darling, no, never!" Her mother hugged her even more tightly, and the muddy brown colour went swirly green sad instead. "It means that one day, when you grow up, you'll have to go away and do important things, maybe even off-planet and then you won't be here with us any more. But that's a long time off, and you'll always be my own little Reler who I love very very much, that'll never change."

Relieved and happy again, Reler snuggled close and watched the warm golden glow of love spread out to enfold her. I'm special, she thought. I wonder what will happen?

Differentness is difficult for a child. She continued to watch, thoughtfully and quietly, but never talked to anyone else about what she saw, and hid her thoughts as much as possible. She tried to be like the hunting cat, as silent and unobtrusive as she could be.

At school she was quiet and obedient and worked diligently, and all her teachers praised her, but although she was perfectly pleasant, she never made any close friends.

After a while, her apparent standoffishness attracted the attention of the class bully, Sepi (there's always one). He was big and strong, and liked beating up smaller children when he could get away with it. He began to sneer at her, supported by his sycophants, and when she took no notice of that, started to do things like stealing her books and throwing them into the rubbish bins, or leaving them out in the schoolyard in the rain.

She didn't react, which only infuriated him even more.

When she was ten, things came to a head. Sepi confronted her in one of the corridors between classes, supported by his hangers on, and with a few other children around who simply watched, maliciously, curiously, or uncaringly. He accused her of telling on him to a teacher.

This was nonsense, Reler hardly talked to anyone, including the teachers, but there was no-one else to stand up for her. She looked up at him calmly. "I wouldn't tell on you, I'm sorry for you. You're scared of the whole world and think you have to be big and tough and nasty to beat it. If trying to upset me makes you happier, I don't mind."

His aura went red with fury and he leapt at her with fist raised.

Without thinking, she pushed him away with a gesture of her hands, never touching him. He was hurled across the corridor and hit the wall with an audible thud. There were a few screams and gasps, then all the other children scattered, leaving her alone with Sepi who was now howling on the floor.

Reler gazed at him, aghast at what she'd done, with no idea how she'd done it, and no idea what she should do now.

A teacher erupted from a nearby classroom, having been attracted by the noise. He checked Sepi and told him crossly to stop crying, there was nothing broken. Then he looked at Reler, who was still standing there horrified at herself. His aura showed nothing more than resigned acceptance, not anger, which was puzzling, but all he said was, "Headmaster's office, both of you, now."

She trailed after him with Sepi, who was still snivelling. She whispered, "I'm really sorry" to him, but he only snivelled more.

Once they got to the Headmaster's office, the teacher told them to wait outside. He went inside for a few minutes, then came back out and got them.

The Headmaster looked sternly at them both. But he's not angry underneath, thought Reler.

"Sepi, tell me what happened."

"She ... she ... beat me up and threw me on the floor!" He snivelled more.

The Head raised a cynical eyebrow as he looked from Sepi, who was bigger and stronger than some children a couple of years older than he was, to Reler, who was smaller and skinnier than average for her age. "Really? Now try telling me the truth."

Feeling rather nervous, Reler piped up. "Actually it is true, sort of. I ... I'm not sure what happened, exactly, but I pushed him away, only I never touched him, and ..." Her voice died away and she wiped away a couple of tears of worry and fright.

"I see. And why did this happen?”

“I .. don't know, exactly?” She wiped at her eyes again. He brusquely pushed the box of tissues on his desk across towards her.

She took one and wiped her eyes. Then she took another and tried to give it to Sepi, but as her hand moved towards him he gave a terrified yelp and jumped away.

The Headmaster looked at the other teacher and jerked his head towards the door. Understanding, the other teacher took Sepi by the shoulders and steered him out. “Come on boy, let's you and me talk about this somewhere else.”

“It's all right, Reler”, the Headmaster said gently. “I'm not angry, I just want to know what happened.”

Thus encouraged, Reler stammered out the story of her encounter with Sepi.

The Headmaster listened, leaning back in his chair, a thoughtful frown on his face. When she finished, he nodded. “I thought it would be something like that. Your parents did warn us that your Force-sensitivity might show itself, but I'm sure none of us expected this, precisely.” He gave Reler a wry smile.

Even more confused, she asked timidly, “I don't understand. You mean my parents told you about me?”

“Of course, they had to. We all needed to be prepared for this, but you seemed quite settled here and coping well, so we thought nothing would need to be arranged so soon. However, there won't be a problem. But I'm afraid you can't stay at this school any longer.”

Reler found the Culu Memorial Centre very strange at first. She'd been so used to suppressing and hiding her talent that it was hard to deal with being in a place where it was not only accepted but encouraged. As she had at her first school, she remained isolated and self-contained, but this pleased her instructors. Being able to set herself apart and deal with things entirely objectively, unencumbered by feelings, was a positive asset.

It soon became apparent that not only her strength but also her ability with the Force was exceptional. She mastered Force techniques in only a few lessons, where others took weeks or months of painful practice. She quickly became known as one to watch, a future Master, maybe even a member of the Jedi Council.

Her parents were proud and loving, but could not help feeling a little uncertain about this daughter who was so different and consequently becoming so far apart from them. It hurt, but she pushed the pain aside as much as she could. There is no emotion, there is peace, she told herself constantly. She concealed this, too, from her instructors, who only saw her detachment as a positive thing.

When she was fourteen, Master Diabaig, who oversaw the training academy part of the Memorial Centre, called her into his office.

She bowed on entry, but remained silent, projecting an aura of peace.

Master Diabaig surveyed her through the Force, marvelling again at how much strength and control she had.

He cleared his throat and spoke. "Padawan, you have done very well in your time here, have you not?"

She shook her head. "It is not for me to judge, Master. I know I can outperform most of the other Padawans, but this is not a matter for pride, it is simply how things are."

"Most, Padawan Reler?" The Master quirked an eyebrow at her. "You know full well that you have surpassed everyone, even your instructors."

He waited a moment for her reaction, but there was no disturbance in her outward serenity.

"Hmm, well, yes." He looked down at his screen, which was evidently displaying her records. "From all the information I have, you have now reached the point at which we can teach you nothing further. If you remain here, you will only become frustrated, and perhaps try to train yourself, which may not be the best thing. I have therefore arranged for you to go to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, to continue your training under the guidance of greater Masters than I."

"Coruscant?!" It was both a question and exclamation, and her appearance of peaceful acceptance slipped aside, with a more normal fourteen year old's excitement and nervousness showing through.

He smiled briefly. "You have great potential to serve not only the Jedi, but the galaxy itself. It would be wrong to let that potential go to waste, and I believe it will be better for you, as a person, to fulfil it, to use your power as it should be used."

"To go away, leave Alpheridies, my family, everything...?"

The Master nodded sympathetically. "It will be hard on you, but the Force will sustain you. Paradoxically, it will make you a better Jedi. Severing all ties, becoming only yourself, reliant on the Force. You will achieve a balance and power on Coruscant which I believe you will always find difficult here, with the guilt and doubt you feel about your family."

Off-balance, she looked confused. "How did you know? I mean, I thought I had that hidden so well no-one could ever see it."

The Master chuckled. "Reler, you are by no means the first adolescent girl to pass through this academy. Your skill at concealment is quite astonishing, but powerful as you are, you are still a fourteen-year-old girl who is very different from her parents, a girl who still loves them and is loved by them, but knows they will never understand her, and has to deal with that separation."

"I thought I was dealing with it", she said, and tried to smile calmly, but it didn't quite come off. She was quite staggered that the Master found her so predictable. In a way, she almost resented that she could be so ordinary, when she knew very well she was extraordinary. But that was pride, which had to be rejected.

The Master watched her with a faint smile, probably knowing pretty much her exact thought process.

"Coruscant .." she mused. "I never thought I would go off-planet, let alone see the centre of the Order."

"Not many of us Miralukans do go out into the wider galaxy. It's a very different place, I should warn you. Hard, cold, dangerous, not just because of the war but because of life itself. Few follow the Jedi ways, even in the Republic. You have been very sheltered up to now. Coruscant is sheltered too, in some ways, but you will meet many different people there and begin to learn about other places." He adjusted his mask a little and added, "And no doubt shock the Masters with your abilities."

She let herself laugh a little at that. "I have to confess I am eager to progress further, and I hope I can at least interest people, even if not shock them."

"So you are agreed then? You will go to Coruscant?"

Reler nodded. "Yes, I must. I have felt for a while that I was not achieving anything here, that there was more. The Force wants more from me."

"Your connection to it is stronger than anyone I have ever met", said Master Diabaig. "My precognitive skill is not particularly high, but I am certain you are destined for great things."

Reler was meditating in her quarters adjoining her Master's rooms when she became aware of voices in the next chamber. She withdrew herself further into the Force, communing with the light, floating in it like a great pool of shining water, shutting herself off from every distraction.

But her Master entered her room and stood waiting politely. Although he was silent, she knew that he was there, and reluctantly drew herself back to the normal world again.

Standing up, she bowed to him. "Master, what do you wish?"

He didn't respond, instead surveying her with a faint frown.

"Is something wrong?" she asked. She could sense concern, annoyance but not directed at her, and uncertainty. That was unusual and a bit worrying.

"Hmm, well, that's difficult to answer." He smiled a little, deliberately pushing his feelings away. "It's not what I want, it's the Jedi Council. They have a proposal, a possible task for you."

"A task? As part of my training?"

He shook his head. "No, your formal training is complete. Of course there is always more to learn, but you could pass the Jedi trials at any time. However, I have held you back because of your youth. The Jedi carry a heavy burden in these days of war. I would keep you safe and innocent a while longer."

She blinked at him. "I could pass the trials?"

"I doubt you would even break a sweat. I have never known such a talented Padawan as yourself. You will do great things in the Order, I know it, but I had hoped not just yet."

"Master, I ... I don't know what to say."

He waved his hand, sending a calming and reassuring thought to her. "You need say nothing. Come, I must take you before the Council."

As they entered through the great door which led to the Council's part of the Temple, Reler could sense unusually strong feelings from within the Council chamber: excitement, stern resolve, a portentous atmosphere of some great undertaking. A knot of uncertainty developed in her stomach, and she damped down her feelings, hiding in the long-ago-learned shadow of the hunting cat.

Her Master felt this, and paused in their walk up the corridor to the chamber itself. He turned to face her, resting his hands lightly on her shoulders and looking at her with deep concern.

"Don't worry, Reler. I know what they are going to ask, and it is not what I would choose for you, but this decision must be yours to make. Whatever you do, know that you have my support, always. Don't feel pressured into doing anything."

She smiled up at him. "Thank you Master, that means a great deal to me. I've never really told you how grateful I am for your teaching and guidance and constant support."

"In truth, my dear Reler, I did very little. The Force draws you into itself, you learn directly from it. All I had to do was give you a small nudge here and there. And some sparring practice, of course. You learned and enjoyed it, and travelled deeper into the Force and to the Light, and that is all the thanks I ever needed."

She looked down, embarrassed. "I will miss you, Master."

He smiled and sighed at the same time, dropping his hands from her shoulders. "I suppose that warns me what decision you will make. But be mindful of your feelings, Padawan. Let the Force guide you, not sentiment or a desire to prove yourself in the trials."

"Yes Master, you are right, as always." She looked up and smiled at him again. "We had better not keep the Council waiting any longer."

They entered the wide circular chamber, the first time Reler had seen it and she was hard put not to gawp like a common tourist. This, this was the fount, the centre of everything. The room was huge, high domed, and would have dwarfed the Masters in their chairs, had not their stature in the Force given them a presence far beyond mere physical existence.

The strongest feelings of all emanated from a Jedi who was standing before the Council. She recognised him, as she did most of the Masters, although she knew very little about them. She had met Master Nomen Karr a few times, and been impressed with his single-minded devotion to the Light Side, but also a little scared by his intensity.

Her Master bowed to the Council. "Masters, I bring my Padawan Reler before you, as requested."

She bowed in turn, feeling the pressure of their eyes on her.

"Welcome, Padawan. We thank you for your willingness to hear us." The greeting came from Grand Master Zym himself, a Kel Dor whose expression was hard to read but his voice sounded kind, even through the breathing filter. "We have taken much interest in your progress. All our Padawans are important to us, but it is rare and precious to find one so close to the Force at such a young age."

Reler listened, keeping herself in the hunting cat's shadow.

Master Zym gestured to Nomen Karr. "Master Karr came to us a few days ago with a proposition, one which he believes could also include you. We have debated this, and now ask you to hear him, then consider what he says and give us your decision in due course."

This was interesting. Reler looked at Karr, whose aura was faintly visible to her even though she wasn't looking for it, red-purple-silver and bubbling with intensity, eagerness, certainty.

He nodded to Zym and looked at Reler. "Padawan, I will be brief now and we can go into longer explanations later. As you know, we must constantly guard against the attacks of the Sith, not only on the Republic but on the Order itself. I believe that, if they have not yet succeeded, they are certainly trying to penetrate the ranks of the Jedi. I propose to do the same to them. To enter their halls of darkness, even as far as Korriban itself, pretend to be a Sith, and find out their war plans from within. And, if you are willing, I believe you can do the same. Your youth, and the specific ability to hide your true feelings - as you are doing at the moment", he flashed a quick smile, "should enable you to enter the Sith academy, learn as they do, pretend to become a Sith, and find out everything about them from the inside."

She did not disturb her concentration with so much as a flicker of her eyes, though she was aware of all the other Masters in the room, and could see a spectrum of feelings: outright opposition, resentment, varying degrees of distaste both for the idea itself and for trying to involve a Padawan, grim acceptance (a small majority), reluctant support.

Karr continued. "This is no small undertaking, not something I can ask lightly. It will mean years of separation from the Order. It will mean plunging yourself into all the horrors of the Dark Side, exposing yourself to potential corruption. But your other great asset here is your connection to the Force, which is stronger than most, even those here in this room. This will keep you safe, hold you in the Light, even as you appear to embrace the Dark."

His certainty of rightness bothered her. Not because he was wrong, but because he left no room for doubt or other thoughts. She had a vague premonition that this absolute certainty would lead to his downfall in the end, although it was hard to articulate what she felt about him. But about the idea itself, yes. The Force called to her, almost in spoken words: This is what I/all want for you. This is what I/all made you for.

But she kept all of that out of her visible feelings. The hunting cat silently prowled around the room, watching, waiting.

"Thank you for explaining, Master Karr." She smiled politely, then looked back to the circle of the Council. "Masters, may I ask a question?"

"Ask anything you wish, Padawan. It would not be fair to refuse that." A female Togruta Master was the speaker, one she didn't know. One with grim acceptance of an unpleasant necessity.

"Thank you, Master." She looked down for a moment, assembling her thoughts. "What you ask of me is that I turn my back on the Jedi Code, all the principles of honesty, of openness, of walking in the Light, and go to live a life of deception and darkness, maybe for many years. Obviously the Council have agreed that I be approached in this matter, and therefore you believe that I can do it, and are willing that I should do it. But do you want me to do it?"

There was a mixture of sighs and frowns from around the table, but a few smiles. "An excellent question, Padawan. You penetrate straight to the heart of the matter." The Togruta again.

Master Zym stood up, facing her as an equal, which surprised her. "I will speak on behalf of the Council. The answer is no, we would not want anyone to do it, least of all a young and inexperienced Padawan who may be one of the greatest hopes for our Order. You prove your potential by your question: asking not about the physical danger but about the spiritual danger, which is far greater. The loss to the Dark Side of one so young and powerful would be a tragedy worse than your death, and you will necessarily be living in such a way that corruption will be close around you at all times. But Master Karr is convinced, and our own knowledge of you leads us to believe, that you are strong enough to resist and hold true to the Light. Therefore we agreed that it should be put to you. Nevertheless, the decision is entirely yours and we will respect it. Whether you choose to stay or to go, you will lose no standing in our eyes."

There were various murmurs of affirmation from around the circle.

"You should know that the situation is becoming desperate, Padawan ..." began Master Karr, but Master Zym's voice cut through his like a lightsaber.

"Silence, Master Karr! There must be no pressure on Padawan Reler, she must make the decision freely."

He looked at Reler again. "Whatever the situation is, and Master Karr's assessment is not shared by all of us, it is unimportant. Do you have further questions, Padawan?"

Reler considered. She already knew what the decision had to be, Karr's attempt at influence had been completely unnecessary. But if she simply accepted now, they would think she had made her choice too quickly and possibly blame Karr, which would be unfair.

"No Master Zym, I have heard all I wish for now. I would ask for an hour to meditate with my Master and consider the proposition. Perhaps I may have more questions then."

She and her Master went into the meditation chamber. Reler automatically went and sat down cross-legged on the mat, as so many hundreds of times before, but her Master remained standing. She looked back and up at him. "Are you not going to meditate with me, Master?"

"Ah, Reler, this is not necessary, and you know it's not. Your decision was made even before Nomen Karr finished putting his proposal to you."

She grabbed a cushion lazily with the Force instead of getting up, and twisted round to face him, settling herself in a more comfortable position. "How did you know?"

He sat down on the bench at the side of the room. "You've been my only Padawan for nearly two years. If I don't know you by now, who would? Oh, don't worry, no-one else would pick up on it, you really do have a remarkable gift for hiding things." He smiled, but with some sadness.

"I know this won't be easy, Master. I don't want you to think I'm just going because I'm ... I don't know, excited about being a hero for the Order, or something."

He nodded. "You have your head screwed on. And really, you're so self-effacing that no-one could reasonably accuse you of seeking a heroic epitaph."

She grimaced. "Not an epitaph, Master. That's a bit too morbid ... but if I don't come back you could maybe name a bathroom after me, or something."

That got a small laugh out of him.

"Master, this is important. It is necessary, Master Karr is right. And I can do it. The Force is calling me to do it. I don't even know why, but I do believe this is my purpose. I know that I have to go."

Present day again

As instructed, one hour after dawn the next morning found Tanera at the top of the ramp outside the Academy. The sun had not yet risen far enough to reach down into the valley and it was comparatively cool, but the air was still bone dry and she could feel it sucking the moisture out of her skin, leaving it tautly uncomfortable across her cheekbones.

Two other Acolytes were already there. One was a Twi'lek with pale green skin and hard yellow eyes in a bitter, resentful face. As she came up, he turned away, apparently a deliberate act of disdain. But when he turned, she could see, between his lekku, that he had marks on his neck, like burn scars in a geometric pattern. With a slight shock she realised that they must be from a slave collar. No wonder he was bitter.

The other appeared Human, tall and handsome, with suntanned skin, dark hair mostly shaved except for two broad stripes across the top of his head, and startlingly green eyes. He was standing in a military-looking pose, stiff and upright, almost at attention, but he gave her a relaxed and friendly smile as she came up. He had an air of confidence and competence which made him appear older than he was, but she thought he was probably about the same age as she was, maybe a year or so older.

She hadn't responded to his smile, but was staring at him, and he gave her a quizzical look. She nearly smiled in return, but then remembered that she was a sulky Corellian now, and just nodded with a grunt that might have meant anything, and looked away from him across the red-orange sand towards the high cliffs, ruined tombs and gigantic statues.

He had looked a little hurt for a moment, but then shrugged slightly, and all three of them stood in silence, with a thin wind whining in their ears and whipping sand grains round their feet, and a few desert vultures screeching hoarsely as they circled slowly above the ruins in the sun-warmed morning updrafts.

Tanera wondered vaguely how they'd both got to the Academy, whether the Human really was ex-military and the Twi-lek an ex-slave, what their stories were. No doubt she would find out, over the next months and years. If they survived. She squelched that thought and rehearsed her own background story again, as Master Karr had coached her.

Back to twelve years earlier

Rubh'an Dunain's father was a Sergeant in the Hapani military, and was often away for several years at a time. The first time he properly met Sergeant Dunain was when he was five years old. His mother had been excited and on edge for weeks before his Daddy's company was due to come back for a whole six months of R&R. Rubh'an was excited too, but without quite understanding. The last time his Daddy had been home, he was only aged two, and that was just a baby and babies don't remember anything. Now he was much more grown up. He hoped Daddy would remember him, but was a tiny bit scared that he wouldn't.

His mother showed him holos of his father, some with Rubh'an as a baby, and lots with his father in uniform, with his platoon on exotic planets, or on parade. Sergeant Dunain was big and strong and handsome and carried an assault cannon as easily as a blaster pistol. His mother told him that his Daddy was a hero and the best man in the galaxy, and Rubh'an listened and listened and wanted to believe every word.

The day finally came, and they went to the spaceport. They went early so Rubh'an could watch the spaceships going in and out, which was a special treat. One day he would be in one of them, he told himself. When he was big and strong and had a uniform like Daddy.

When they'd seen the military transport come down, Rubh'an and his mother went down to wait at the hangar lifts. There were lots of other families there. Rubh'an knew most of them, because the military families all tended to live in the same area around the barracks. Everyone was excited, all talking happily and noisily. The children were doing a lot of running around playing games and chasing each other, and Rubh'an joined in with as much excitement as everyone else.

Eventually the lifts started to disgorge the soldiers and there was even more noise and excitement. There were a lot of people crying, which confused Rubh'an, but his mother explained that sometimes grown-up people cried when they were very very happy as well as when they were sad. He still didn't understand, but at least he was reassured that they weren't unhappy about their soldiers coming home.

Suddenly there was his Daddy, looking just like the holos. He ran across to them and threw his arms round Rubh'an's mother in a long tight hug. His mother cried a little bit, but smiled a lot too, so Rubh'an knew it was happy crying. He stared up in apprehensive admiration at this huge and splendid man who was strange and familiar at the same time.

After a few minutes, his father stopped hugging his mother and looked down at Rubh'an. "So, this is my fine big boy", he said with a smile as bright and warm as the sun. He dropped to one knee in front of Rubh'an and opened his arms. "Will you give me a hug?"

Rubh'an sort of wanted to but he was still not quite certain, and hesitated. "Are you really my Daddy? Do you remember me?"

The man laughed. "Absolutely I am, and I couldn't possibly forget you, you're the most special boy in the galaxy to me. Look at this."

He reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a mini holoviewer which he switched on. It began to cycle through lots of holos of Rubh'an, from a very tiny baby up to his first day at school a few months ago. "I've carried that around with me everywhere. I missed you enormously, and I couldn't be here while you were growing up, so I asked Mother to send me a new holo of you as often as she could."

Rubh'an looked up at his mother, who smiled down at him with loving reassurance and nodded. "Every time I took a holo of you, I sent a copy to Daddy."

So he looked back at his father and announced seriously, "All right, I will hug you."

Both his parents laughed at the solemnity, and his father swept him up with his big strong arms and hugged him close. His mother happy-cried a bit more, and his father pulled her into the hug too. All around them were people doing the same, all happy and laughing and hugging each other. Rubh'an considered this for a few moments, then he said "I like being a proper family, it makes people happy", and his parents laughed some more.

The next six months were a wonderful time in Rubh'an's life. He spent all the summer holiday with Daddy looking after him while Mother went to do her job. Daddy took him out everywhere, to the museums and the zoo; to the barracks where his Daddy's platoon adopted him as a mascot and had a little uniform made just for him (he practically lived in it until he grew out of it); to play football with other boys and their fathers; or just for long walks and ice-cream and feeding the ducks on the river.

When school started again, Daddy came to meet him nearly every afternoon after school and they would go off and do things together. Sometimes Mother came too, which was nice, but being with Daddy all by himself was special. By the time Sergeant Dunain had to report for his next tour of duty, Rubh'an knew for certain that he definitely had the most wonderful Daddy in the whole galaxy.

The memories of those six months faded, as a five-year-old's memories always do, but he never lost his fixed determination to grow up as much like his father as possible.

When he reached puberty, Rubh'an began to go through the normal changes and upheaval that every young man has to endure. His father was (by design) on a home tour for those few years, and gave him a lot of serious and supportive talks.

But some of the changes were not what normal boys went through. Rubh'an gradually realised that he had become aware of something outside the 'real' world, some vast silent powerful stuff, which was all around, inside and outside and flowing through everything. He discovered that he could actually use this, like moving things just by thinking about it, and if he concentrated hard, to feel people's emotions and sometimes know what they were going to do. The more he tried to do that, the easier it got, particularly in sports, where his uncanny skill at somehow always being in exactly the right place at the right time became almost legendary. He didn't talk to his father about this new ability, sensing that it was something beyond ordinary life changes.

Reading around, he figured out that this powerful stuff was what was called the Force, and that most people couldn't see it or feel it, and fewer still could use it. Those who could feel it were called Force-sensitives, and those who could use it pretty much had to spend their life using it, either as a Jedi in the Republic (which sounded cold and unpleasant, tightly controlled with no emotion allowed) or Sith in the Empire (which sounded angry and dangerous, with nothing but uncontrolled emotion).

But I can't be a Force-sensitive, he thought with dismay. I'm going to be a soldier, follow my father, I don't want any of that. I have to hide it.

So he did his best to conceal it, and gradually lessened his sporting abilities, deliberately making mistakes now and again. He tried never to use the Force, but sometimes it just happened, and the Force would sort of push its way through him and do things. Fortunately such times were rare, and although a few odd things happened around him, no-one seemed to notice.

By age fifteen he was already a senior cadet in the military youth wing. His determination to follow his father had never wavered, and, although he had the choice at age sixteen to continue education at the military academy, which would put him on the officer track, his father had gone in as a private and worked his way up the ranks, so Rubh'an didn't even have to think about his decision.

He went to the recruiting office about a month short of his sixteenth birthday. He passed all the physical tests with ease, but when he got to the final entrance interview, which he expected would be no more than a formality, the recruiting officer was reading through his record with a thoughtful frown. Rubh'an knew the officer, who lived in the next block to his family, and was a bit worried.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked.

"Oh no, Rubh... Cadet, more the opposite." The officer grinned at him. "Sorry, have to do this formally. You should have put a sir on the end of your question."

"Yessir", said Rubh'an automatically, and saluted.

"Sergeant Dunain is a good man and a credit to the army, and I can understand why you would want to follow in his footsteps. But I think you have more potential. You're quick-minded, think on your feet, and with your physical fitness record and abilities, I'd recommend you for Commando unit training. You'd be accepted, no question. If you wanted to go for it."

Rubh'an gaped at him. "Commando training!? Sir", he added hastily.

"It would still be soldiering, and you'll do a lot of learning on the job, but you will also get a lot more intensive training and education on top. You don't have to decide now, go away and think about it for a bit." The officer gave him a friendly smile. "Give my regards to your parents."

"Sir." Rubh'an saluted and left the office, his mind in a whirl.

His parents reacted very differently. His father was instantly overjoyed, and beamed proudly at Rubh'an. "My son, picked for Commando training. You'll go for it, of course. I can't tell you how proud I am!" He gave Rubh'an a great bear hug. "This is fantastic news! We should go out and celebrate!"

But his mother was very quiet, and although she smiled, Rubh'an could sense that she was unhappy, almost frightened. He disengaged from his father's hug and went over to her, dropping to his knees beside her chair.

"What's wrong, Mother?"

She smiled at him lovingly and stroked his hair. "No mother likes seeing her son go into danger, or grow up and leave home. You're a big strong man now, not my little boy any more, and I have to let you go, which is a hard thing to do. And I have a strange feeling that this will take you into terrible places, far far away from us. But you're my good, kind, faithful, fearless son, and I'm very, very proud of you. I know you'll always be yourself, you'll defend others and do what's right, and danger will never stop you. Which is just as it should be."

A long time later he remembered his mother's premonition, and wondered whether she too was Force-sensitive.

Rubh'an took to Commando training like a nexu cub to hunting, and with something of the same fierce enjoyment. He soon discovered that Hapani Commandos had many different roles, working everywhere from handling siege jobs for the civilian police force to infiltrating behind the lines in the toughest of war zones.

Each individual unit was a small elite team, who worked with each other on a basis of total trust - necessary, when their lives depended on it. Some had particular specialisations such as explosives or communications, but all of them were highly trained in as many areas as possible. Rubh'an quickly became exceptionally good at hand to hand combat and the use of all types of close quarters weapons, from vibroknives to electrostaffs, but he was nearly as proficient with blaster pistols and assault cannons and all guns in between. He also learned rapidly about covert movement and infiltration, whether in a battlefield trench, a jungle, or an office block.

He tried not to use the Force, and none of his unit seemed to notice that he was hiding anything. Nevertheless, sometimes he used it without thinking, particularly if one of the team was in danger. And it was a large part of his proficiency in close-quarters fighting, because, even without meaning to, he could often see exactly which way his opponents were going to move and what they were going to do.

He'd been a Commando now for two years, and they'd just come back from operations on one of the other planets in the Consortium. A band of guerillas had been running terrorist operations, trying to destabilise the planetary governor in order to install the deputy as someone more sympathetic to their views. Both the terrorists and the deputy had been dealt with satisfactorily, but it had been a hard few months and they were hoping for something a bit easier for a rest.

It seemed like they'd got their wish when Commander Aultbea reported their next orders to them. "We're assigned to a foreigner, an agent of Imperial Intelligence, assisting him in local operations here on Hapes IV. Seems there are some border negotiations going on with outsiders, and this agent has been sent to mess up the Republic's attempts at encroaching on our territory."

"What does he want us for?" enquired Corporal Creagan, who'd joined the squad a few months after Rubh'an and with whom he was firm friends.

"Guess we'll find out. Can't be anything too tough, we can be doing this in our sleep." The Deputy Commander, Lieutenant Breaca, looked hopeful.

There was general laughter. Breaca was well known for grabbing the opportunity to sleep wherever and whenever he could. Despite that, he was never anything other than wide awake and focussed on operations.

"I'm sure you'll get some shut-eye in somewhere, Lieutenant. Back to the Agent, my understanding is that he'll be covertly removing, discrediting or subverting any representatives and officials who are supporting the Republic, while preventing them doing the same to those sympathetic to the Empire. Empire is favoured by the high ups, they seem to deal better with us, so." He shrugged.

"Anything from planting incriminating evidence to assassination, then, I guess?" asked Rubh'an.

"That's about the size of it. But as always, you know the squad motto." The Commander raised his fist in the air.

"Ready for anything!" they all shouted together, fists raised, and grinned at each other.

The representative's office was at the very end of a long corridor. There was no-one else in sight, and no holocams in this part of the building. Rubh'an, Creagan and the imperial agent did not relax, however, moving quietly and carefully, Creagan scanning the corridor ahead for any traps or alarms. There was one laser barrier, easily circumvented. There were voices from inside one of the rooms, but the agent worked briefly and silently on the door lock, putting a temporary jam on it, and they moved on.

They reached the right door, but the agent unlocked the room opposite instead and they slipped inside, still silently. Rubh'an and Creagan exchanged questioning glances, but their orders were to support the agent in whatever he did, not query it.

He ran a bug scan, which came up clean, then explained in a low voice. "Corporal Creagan, you wait in here, Corporal Rubh'an can come with me. If we get interrupted, an unexpected backup could make all the difference. Alternatively, if we get caught, you can lie low and then get the message out." He smiled and winked, and Creagan grinned. "Good thinking, sir."

The agent chuckled. "Naturally, this is what I get paid for. If anything happens, you'll hear it, but don't come out unless I specifically shout for you. I'll decide on the spot whether we can all three get out or whether we don't have a good chance and you'll need to take a message instead."

"Yes sir", said Creagan, and saluted. "Lucky dog, Rubh, you'll get all the fighting."

Rubh'an grinned. "I'll save a few for you if I get the chance."

"I'd prefer to get in and out unsuspected and undetected as planned", the agent pointed out.

"Yes sir", said both young men in unison, and exchanged resigned grins.

The agent snaked a tiny camera through a crack in the door to check that the corridor was still empty, then he and Rubh'an slipped out of the office again and across to the representative's room. It was the work of a moment to override the lock, and as soon as it slid to behind them, the agent re-established the lock with an alarm to warn them if anyone else tried to enter. He repeated the bug scan, then got a small conical device out from one of his myriad pockets and flipped a switch on its base.

Rubh'an's ears buzzed and started to feel blocked up. He shook his head and rubbed at them, puzzled.

"Sound dampener. Just a local one, enough to cover this room. I doubt we'll make much noise, but just in case." The agent went over to the holoterminal and started to remove the maintenance panel.

"I've been hoping to get a chance to talk to you on your own." The agent smiled at Rubh'an as the young man watched him busily connecting a small datapad and starting the process of slicing into the representative's holocall records.

"To me, sir? Why?" Rubh'an was surprised. He liked the agent, who was clever, cheerfully cynical, and obviously enjoyed his job as well as being very good at it, but hadn't expected the agent to be interested in him.

The agent waited a moment for a patch to install itself, watching lines of code scroll rapidly up the datapad screen, then looked back at Rubh'an. "You're strongly Force-sensitive, but you hide it. That makes you unusual, to say the least."

The young man's shock showed for a moment but he had himself under control again in an instant. "No sir, you must be mistaken. I'm just an ordinary soldier."

The agent smiled and shook his head. "A Commando, hardly ordinary. But I've met enough Force-sensitives that I can see and feel the signs. Don't worry, if you want things to stay this way I'll keep your secret. But you should know that others may recognise it too, and they might not have your best interests at heart."

Rubh'an hesitated. He hadn't thought of that, but he'd been relying on keeping his Force-sensitivity hidden. If other people could see it, then things might get complicated.

"Suppose I was, sir, what difference would it make?" he asked cautiously.

"People who can use the Force have a large amount of extra power and many arcane abilities at their disposal. That makes them dangerous, therefore a threat which must be controlled or may need to be removed. It also makes them useful to anyone who can manipulate them. Or gain their friendship and loyalty."

"How could I avoid that, sir?" He decided that he might as well be honest. There didn't seem much point denying it now.

"You can't." The agent gave him a sympathetic look, his blue-grey eyes softening. "No need to keep calling me sir, by the way. Call me Cipher, or Twelve, it's been my code name so long I've forgotten what my real name is." He started uploading doctored holoterminal records from a datacard which he'd produced from another pocket.

"Is it really obvious? I mean, how likely is it that anyone else would spot it?"

"Put it this way, Rubh'an, to me it shines out of you like a beacon on a starless night."

Rubh'an scratched his head. The glow from the Transitory Mists surrounding the Cluster, and particularly on Hapes IV with its seven moons, meant that nights were never dark, but he understood the analogy well enough. "I read about the Jedi and Sith, sir. Cipher, I mean. But I didn't like the sound of either of them. I just wanted to follow my father and be a soldier."

"Understandable." Cipher Twelve nodded. "I followed my father too, though slightly differently. He's a high-ranked Moff, an Imperial sector military commander. I was chosen to serve the Empire in a different way, but I have no regrets about being part of Imperial Intelligence." He'd apparently finished his work on the holoterminal, and had replaced the maintenance panel, but showed no disposition to stop the conversation.

"How long have you been an imperial agent?" Rubh'an was curious now.

"Most of my life, it seems." Twelve chuckled. "I entered training at sixteen, now I'm forty-two. I have to be honest, I've lasted a lot longer than most active agents. I've done ten years as a Cipher, that's double the average survival time. But this is my last mission, then I'm retiring and going back home to work in Intelligence Headquarters. And to get married." He smiled, a soft faraway look in his eyes.

"Oh... err... congratulations." Rubh'an smiled awkwardly.

Twelve looked back at Rubh'an again. "I'm just showing you that agents are people too, and we have real lives as well as our covert existences. My fiancée is another agent, we worked together for a while, became friends, then more than friends."

"Uhh, sir... Cipher, I appreciate you being so open with me, but I don't really understand why. Or what this has to do with me being Force-sensitive?"

"Mmm, I've started, so I suppose I'd better finish."

Rubh'an looked confused.

Twelve smiled ruefully. "It was a sudden idea I had, a way to do something for Imperial Intelligence, but now I'm not so sure it's fair to even mention it to you."

Rubh'an shrugged. "It's a bit unfair to stop now, sir. Cipher."

Twelve looked down at his datapad, frowning slightly, and made a couple of adjustments. "Fair enough then. Let me explain the background. There is a problem within Imperial Intelligence. The Empire is, theoretically, a system of order. The Sith rule, the Military control, and Imperial Intelligence works behind the scenes to make sure everything runs smoothly and any mess produced by the Sith or the Military gets cleaned up, sorted out, or preferably prevented before it happens. We are, to a large extent, the main preserver of Imperial order, ensuring a peaceful and stable life for our citizens."

Rubh'an nodded his comprehension. "Something like what we Commandos do."

"Indeed, which is another reason I thought of this. Can you see what difficulty might arise within Intelligence, given the system I've outlined?"

Rubh'an thought for a minute. "You can't work directly for either the Military or Sith, or they would interfere and stop you doing what's needed?"

Twelve looked up at him, clearly impressed. "That was very quick indeed. Yes, exactly. We work with both, but we can't afford to let ourselves be controlled by either of them. Unfortunately, it's hard to maintain that independence - relatively easy with the military, but not with the Sith. As I said, they rule. The Dark Council has twelve members, each nominally responsible for a specific area of policy, a “Sphere”, with ministers who report to them and vast armies of bureaucrats who do the actual work while the Sith busy themselves with internal politics and power plays. I, for example, am currently working within the Sphere of Expansion and Diplomacy and nominally under the control of Darth Ravage, but in practice, I've never seen him or spoken to him and most likely never will. I just deal with the bureaucrats."

Rubh'an was nodding again. He understood plenty about politics and power plays; there was a permanent state of often violent and not infrequently fatal rivalry between most of the members of the Hapani upper classes. The Hapani Royal Court and the Royal Ministers were also in a constant state of mostly subterranean turmoil, which occasionally broke out into minor skirmishes or sometimes discreet (or not so discreet) assassinations. Meanwhile, the various officials and bureaucrats of the civil service just kept the Consortium running anyway.

Twelve continued. "But there are different factions within the Dark Council who struggle with each other. Mostly this has stayed within the Sith, but there's been a recent disturbing trend for them to abuse their power and use Intelligence or the Military to fight their battles by proxy. As a result, the Empire as a whole suffers. There are Agents and others within Intelligence who belong, in effect, to specific Sith, who are under direct Sith influence and control, and who don't work independently but in a partisan fashion. They may be prevented from doing their work, or interfere with other work because of their various masters' wishes. But there is also a group which is trying to fight back and escape, get Intelligence back to true independence again."

"And that's where you are, right?" Rubh'an was eagerly on the scent now, believing he could see where this was going. "You want me to get into the Sith and take over Intelligence instead and hand it all back to you?"

Twelve looked astonished. "That would certainly be ambitious. And fatally impossible, regrettably. There are several Dark Council members involved, and you would have no chance against them. Infiltrating the Sith, yes, that was the wild idea I had. Once there, you could try to get yourself into a position where you could gain information about their plans and rivalries and pass it on to us, maybe help us find ways to avoid things, or change them, or at least reduce the impact."

He rubbed his chin. "But it would be extremely dangerous in any case. Sith training has an appallingly high rate of casualties, and, while there are Sith who are honourable and even compassionate, they're very much in the minority. Most are driven by the urge for ever more power at the expense of everyone else, and that applies to the Dark Council most of all. I can't ask you to do this. It was unfair of me even to have thought it, let alone suggested it."

Highly encrypted message from Cipher Twelve to Keeper One

Have discovered strongly Force-sensitive Hapani, Corporal Rubh'an Dunain, full details attached including my assessment report. Willing to infiltrate Sith on our behalf. Informally recruited him to Intelligence pro tem, once mission complete, suggest I return with him to neutral territory for training, then offer him to Sith as newly discovered.

Twelve double checked the line security then hit send. The message and its attachments vanished and the screen dissolved into the waiting pattern again. He knew he should switch it off and go to bed, it was past midnight, but he just sat staring at it.

I'm tired, he thought. I've been in this job too long. Rubh'an's a nice boy, it was too easy to manipulate him. I think he'll be strong enough to survive the Sith. I hope so. How many have I recruited and trained and then sent out to their deaths?

He gave himself a stern mental shake. What he did was necessary. He was loyal to the Empire, to Imperial Intelligence. There was still no question of that. He switched the screen off and went to get some sleep.

***

Three weeks later.

Message from the Imperial Ambassador to the Hapani Royal Court to Imperial Intelligence Headquarters, Dromund Kaas, copied to Darth Ravage of the Dark Council

Dear sirs,

 

I have the unfortunate and melancholy task of informing you of the death of your agent, Cipher Twelve. A full report is appended. In short, he ran foul of a Hapani Royal Assassin. In a sad twist of irony, he was not the intended target; he merely happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

 

You have my personal guarantee that the assassin has been dealt with suitably; indeed, I understand that he lived only moments past his victim, thanks to the alert actions of the Commando team who were working with Cipher Twelve.

 

Please be assured of my sincere regrets and my deep appreciation of the support given to our endeavours by Cipher Twelve and Imperial Intelligence. His service to the Empire as observed by myself was outstanding, and, despite his death, I believe he will have done sufficient to ensure our success in the ongoing negotiations. The Republic's hand has been greatly weakened by his work.

 

My sympathies to his family and friends.

 

Gool Knowe

at the Hapani Royal Court

representing His Exalted Majesty the Emperor

and Darth Ravage of the Sphere of Expansion and Diplomacy

***

A week further on.

A short message with very simple encryption from Rubh'an Dunain to Keeper One, Dromund Kaas

Dear Keeper One,

 

I hope this letter won't come as a surprise to you. Cipher Twelve talked to me a few weeks before he died, and he told me that he would let you know about me, and if anything happened to him I was to contact you.

 

I've already resigned from military service and I'm not on Hapes IV any more. I'm not hiding, exactly, but I've got myself to Terephon which is pretty much the back end of nowhere in the Cluster and I'm not going to see anyone I know here. You can reach me at the Endless Light Hotel at the spaceport. The Terephon system is right in the Mists so there's no holocomms, it'll have to be by mail like this message.

 

If you don't know who I am and what this is about I'll be happy to explain it in person, but Cipher told me not to put too much in writing.

 

Yours sincerely,

Rubh'an Dunain

***

Keeper One read the message and pursed his lips. Poor lad. Undoubtedly feeling very unhappy, confused and frightened by now. (In this he did Rubh'an an injustice. The young Commando had been taught a lot about adapting and coping with many sorts of hostile situations. He wasn't very happy, but was more bored than anything else. He couldn't afford to go hunting, and there wasn't much else to do on Terephon.)

He looked up Terephon and discovered it was on the Hapan Spine trade route, which connected directly with the Perlemian Route. Intelligent choice by the boy, if he'd actually though of that. No problem getting there and back. He alerted some of the other members of the conspiracy, picked one of his many identities, booked his passage for a week ahead, and sent a short mail message to Rubh'an telling him not to worry, he was on his way.

Oh, I am really liking this!!! Hmmm, now where did I leave my popcorn.....

Thank you Adwynyth usually has a supply of popcorn, but I might have imported it into another thread somewhere *wanders off to look*

(On Nar Shaddaa a week or so after this meeting between Dr Lokin, Keeper One, and Minder Forty-nine, who is Cipher Twelve's younger brother, and Lokin's subsequent conversation with Cirean, who was Cipher Twelve's fiancée.)

The young recruit, clearly ill-at-ease, hovered nervously in the doorway of the main room in the lodgings Keeper One had organised for them in the Corellian Sector. He was tall and broad, over six feet and plenty of muscle, but all arms and legs still with the gangliness of youth. Once he's filled out properly, he'll be formidable, Cirean thought.

"Hi", she said, with a friendly smile. "Come on in and find a seat."

He smiled shyly in return and sat rather stiffly in the nearest chair.

"I guess this is all still very new and strange to you at the moment." She gave him a sympathetic look.

He cleared his throat. "Yes ma'am, I've never been out of the Cluster before, though I've been off-planet for operations."

"No need to call me ma'am, just Cirean will do. Or Agent, if you really want to be formal."

"I'm not sure really." He grinned a bit sheepishly. "Keeper One said that the Sith are in charge, that I should start practicing being sort of proud and arrogant and stuff, but it's not easy."

"No, it won't be easy at all to start with. I'm impressed that you're willing to do this."

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking embarrassed. "You know I've been trying not to be Force-sensitive?"

She nodded. "Yes, I got your background file and Cipher Twelve's report." She stumbled a bit over Twelve's name.

"Cipher told me about you. I'm really sorry, he was a good man. I liked him a lot. When he talked to me about maybe doing this", he waved his hand around vaguely, "he told me Hapes IV would be his last mission, and then he was going home to get married. He was happy." He rubbed the back of his neck again. "I don't know whether it'd be any consolation, but it was very quick. And I killed the assassin who got him."

She looked away, fighting back tears. "I don't actually know what happened, exactly."

"Do you want to know?" He sounded uncertain.

She thought about it for a moment. "Yes, I do want to know."

"It's kind of difficult. To talk about it. Explain." He rubbed his neck again, clearly a nervous gesture. "Well, it was supposed to be just a routine job for Cipher, he was going to plant some doctored files on the 'net terminal in a delegate's office to discredit him with the Republic. My squad were assigned to him when he got there, we'd been working with him a few months."

He'd started slowly and jerkily, but as he got into the story he began talking faster and more fluently. "This night we were just there for emergency backup, didn't expect to need us. Then he sent an alarm to say he'd detected a stealth sig, so my commander sent me and a squadmate – Creagan – down across the balcony level. We were in the Hall of Representatives, the north section. It's built like an open square, big atrium with some seats and stuff on the ground level, with offices at the back and sides, more offices on the mezzanine and a balcony level running round the top with some meeting rooms. Cipher was on ground level and he'd done what he needed there in the server room. Now he was needing to get up to the mezzanine offices, and the stealther was between him and the stairs." He gestured around, describing the space with his hands as well as words.

"It had to be one of the royal assassins, they're the only ones allowed to use that tech. We were up on the roof, so me and Creagan just came down through one of the skylights. We were supposed to create a distraction, draw the stealther off, so we started making a noise like we were breaking a door down and sure enough the stealther started heading for us. Cipher started moving, but there was another one who got him from behind. I saw .. sort of, through the Force, it's kind of hard to explain. So I left Creagan to keep the first one occupied and used the Force to jump down off the balcony right where the assassin was and shot him point blank. But it was too late for Cipher. I'm sorry."

She was sitting quite still, listening, but as he finished she wiped away some tears. "As simple as that." She swallowed. "Thanks for telling me."

The boy looked nearly as upset as she was. "I could've stopped it, you know. If I'd only used the Force sooner. I felt what happened to Twelve because you get a sort of connection to people, when you know them. But if I'd used the Force properly, looked round the area, I could've seen the second stealther and warned him. So it's kind of my fault."

"Oh Rubh'an, no! You mustn't ever think that, it's not true!" She was horrified. "You've been carrying that around with you all this time? You poor boy!"

"I was scared you might hate me when you found out. But I had to be honest with you." He was rubbing his neck again, almost crying himself.

She'd jumped up from her own chair and went over to put her arm round his shoulders. "I'll never hate you, absolutely not! Training you, helping you with anything I can, we can do it in Twelve's memory. You mustn't feel guilty, but if you're going to insist, think of this as ... I don't know, a way of atoning?"

He was still stiff and uncertain in her embrace, but he looked a bit happier. "Thanks ma'am .. Cirean, I really appreciate that."

She went and sat back down, as he added, "I have to use the Force now, Cipher was right about that too. He said sooner or later I'd be found out, and to be honest, once I'd jumped fifty feet down off that balcony right in front of an invisible assassin, there was no way I could hide it any more. I'm sorry to leave the squad, but they understood."

She nodded.

"And it feels right, doing this. The Force wants me in it, somehow. I can't explain that either." He shrugged, looking confused and embarrassed.

She gave him a grin, albeit a bit strained. "Don't expect me to know anything about the Force, I just shoot things."

He smiled in return, starting to relax. "Me too, but I guess that'll have to change."

Enjoying this quite a lot.

Nice to hear, thank you

It will be interesting to see where all the threads intersect.

I'm getting quite interested in that myself ... I've had to start keeping a spreadsheet of all the various characters so I can remember what they're doing

A couple of days later, Rubh'an and Cirean took one of the regular shuttles down to Hutta, where she took him to the only known decent cantina on the planet, on the outskirts of Bilbousa. The food was plain but good, the place was kept as clean as possible, and it actually had working air conditioning and particle filters.

"Afternoon young lad, Cirean." Keeper One smiled cheerily at them as Cirean brought Rubh'an over to the table where he was sitting with Forty-nine and Lokin. "Good to see you again, I hope Cirean is looking after you."

"Yes sir ... Keeper." Rubh'an blushed self-consciously and then did a wide-eyed double-take at Forty-nine.

"No, I'm his brother." Forty-nine smiled ruefully. "A lot of people do that."

"Oh... I guess he never got a chance to warn me. If that's the right word." He blushed even more.

Forty-nine gave him a sympathetic look. "Don't worry about it."

Cirean butted in. "Looks like I'd better do introductions ... you know Keeper One, that's Minder Forty-nine, and the unusually silent bearded one over there is Dr Eckard Lokin, also known as Fixer Fifteen."

Lokin rubbed his beard. "Nothing wrong with being bearded."

"Depends what you let grow in it." Cirean grinned. "Which, knowing you, might be anything from a rare bacterial colony to a baby lizardbat."

"Hey!" Lokin objected. "We're not playing brother and sister right now, you don't have to make up insults."

"I know, I just enjoy it." Cirean smiled sweetly at him.

Lokin rolled his eyes. "Sometimes I think the only purpose of my existence is to provide amusement for you."

Cirean walked round and patted him patronisingly on the head. "And you do it very well, too."

Keeper One was chuckling. Forty-nine was grinning, and leaned over to poke Cirean in the ribs. "Come and sit down, both of you, and Cirean, stop upsetting Lokin or he'll feed you to his man-eating nanobugs, or whatever it is he's breeding at the moment."

"Programmable self-replicating cybernetic viruses for bloodstream toxin filtering", Lokin corrected him. "They're nowhere near ready for use yet, but I will certainly be looking for experimental subjects for Phase I trials eventually. Any poisoning victim would do." He eyed Cirean.

Entirely unabashed, she grinned and flopped down on the chair between Lokin and Forty-nine. Rubh'an sat down on the other free seat between Lokin and Keeper One. He was beginning to feel relaxed and reassured by the banter (as they'd intended). Like his commando unit, these people seemed obviously a close-knit team, experienced, capable, knowledgeable; secure in their abilities and friendship, trusting one another.

"So, welcome to the conspiracy, lad." Keeper raised his glass in salute. "What'll you have to drink?" He waved at a nearby serving droid.

"Uh... just water for now, thanks."

Lokin nodded approvingly. "Keeping a clear head, very sensible with these three."

Cirean looked indignant. "As though it wasn't always you who blagged our way out of everything. Rubh'an, don't listen to him."

The droid had produced a glass of water and put on the table in front of Rubh'an before rolling away again. He picked it up and took a sip before tentatively joining in the banter. "I guess I have to be careful with everything now, so that would include all of you."

Keeper One laughed uproariously, Cirean giggled, Forty-nine chuckled again and Lokin smirked. "He's a fast learner, Cirean. What have you been telling him?"

"I didn't need to, he's very quick. Already knows a lot of stuff, his Commando training was impressively thorough. We've been swapping infil and obbo stories."

Rubh'an nodded, pinkly embarrassed but pleased.

"Excellent", said Forty-nine. "Does this mean the timetable can be advanced?"

"I'd say so", Cirean nodded. "Depends on the two oldies though." She grinned at Lokin and Keeper One.

Lokin narrowed his eyes. "I'm exactly two months and three days older than you."

"It's the beard", observed Keeper One. "Why I never grew one myself, they have a very aging effect."

"I'll remember that tip." Rubh'an smiled, and was rewarded with smiles and chuckles all round.

"You do that, lad. Hold on to your youth as long as you can, you don't realise what you've got 'til it's gone." He sighed mournfully and shook his head, making his fat jowls wobble.

"Apart from the fact that you're enjoying yourself far more now than you ever did during all those years undercover on Coruscant or as Keeper of Intelligence", Forty-nine pointed out.

"True, true." Keeper cheered up. "Count my blessings, eh?"

"So?" Cirean looked from him to Lokin and back again. "When can you start work with Rubh'an?"

"I'll let you go first", said Lokin, looking at Keeper One. "I have a few things to tidy up, but I should be able to bring my leave forward and get back here in a few weeks."

Keeper One nodded. "No problem for me, I can be as flexible as needed. Timewise, I mean, I don't bend so well these days." He patted his ample belly and laughed merrily at himself.

Forty-nine looked pleased. "Good, the shorter the time I have to keep Cirean off the books the easier it'll be."

He looked at Rubh'an. "Seems my brother made a very good choice in you. But, be honest with us." His expression was serious now. "Are you having any second thoughts, doubts? Because we won't force you to go through with this. If you want out, say the word and you can stay here in neutral territory, or we'll have you back in the Cluster, or even in Republic space if you'd prefer that, within a couple of days."

Cirean, Lokin and Keeper One all nodded in agreement. "I already told him that", Cirean said.

Rubh'an shook his head positively. "Absolutely not, sir. I knew this was the right thing to do as soon as Cipher starting talking about it." He flushed with embarrassment again. "I can't really explain it, but there's something pushing me to do this. The Force, I guess." He shrugged.

Keeper One patted him on the shoulder. "First lesson in undercover agent Sithiness, lad. Never explain. You decide what to do and that's it. Sith don't have to rationalise or justify anything."

"With the result that they're frequently irrational and unjust", Lokin grumbled.

Forty-nine shook his head. "Dangerous thing to say, even amongst us. Better, don't even think it."

"If it wasn't for their ... hmm ... activities, we wouldn't even need to be here", Lokin pointed out.

"Err", said Rubh'an tentatively.

They all looked at him.

He blushed, but spoke up. "I guess it's a case of it is what it is, and we've got to deal with it. Sort it out first, worry about it afterwards, and be ready for anything. That's what we said in the Commandos."

Cirean laughed. "I told you I didn't need to teach him much. You'll do brilliantly Rubh'an, no question."

Lokin nodded. "Yes, you're right, Rubh'an. Or should we call you "My Lord", to get you used to being in charge?" He smiled blandly.

Forty-nine and Keeper One both smiled but Keeper One shook his head. "Remember, we're starting at the bottom. You'll be an Acolyte first, barely above a klor'slug larva as far as other Sith are concerned. But let's leave that for now, we've established that you're ready, willing, and obviously more than able." He clapped Rubh'an on the shoulder again. "We're lucky to have you. Now, how about some food?"

Rubh'an wasn't quite sure what to make of Keeper One. This fat, jovial old man who laughed and joked with everyone, and never seemed to take anything very seriously, wasn't the sort of person he would have expected to be in charge of anything, much less Imperial Intelligence. But Cipher Twelve had said Keeper One had been head of operations for Intelligence for many years and even though he'd retired, he was still the head of the group that was trying to regain control.

So when Keeper One started his part of Rubh'an's training and took him to Mezenti spaceport, Rubh'an didn't know what to expect.

Once there, they lounged on one of the benches in the large open area for a couple of hours, watching people come and go, and speculating on what sort of person they were, their probable profession, their standing in the hierarchy of Nar Shaddaa society or the galaxy in general.

This was fun and Rubh'an enjoyed it, learning to observe little things, not only the way someone dressed, but were their clothes cheap or expensive, new or well worn? Not only whether other people deferred to them or barged them out of the way or ignored them completely, but if there was deference, was it genuine respect or out of fear, and if they ignored the person, was it just not caring or deliberate avoidance? Did they carry their own bags or have someone do it for them? Did they have weapons, and if so did they look as though they knew how to use them?

"You're building up a picture, d'you see?" said Keeper One. "Figuring out who a person is all the way down, not just the outward appearance. That fine businessman in expensive fashionable clothes, imperiously ordering the droid about down there, he has to order droids because no-one else will actually listen to him. You saw the scorn on the faces of his two underlings following him out of the lift. A lot less real importance than he wants people to think."

Rubh'an nodded. "Yes, and his datapad, latest model, flashy and high-tech but he doesn't seem all that sure about how to use it. So not that competent either?"

"Probably right. Excellent." Keeper One nodded approvingly. "What about that Rattataki in the old dark grey clothes over that side?"

Rubh'an considered the Rattataki man, who was standing perfectly still and patiently at one of the enquiry desks while a couple of spaceport officials buzzed around sorting something out. The grey clothing, on close examination through Rubh'an's discreet holobinoculars, was indeed well-worn with a few patches and frayed edges, but turned out to be high grade cortosis-weave armour, thickly protective but tailored to allow rapid, flexible movement. A metal case with a thumblock was on the desk in front of him, and he carried a small but very workmanlike blaster pistol in a quick-release magnetic holster. No-one else was queuing behind him, though the next desk had half a dozen people in a line with no-one attending to them.

"Well... he looks not very important at first glance. Very plain-looking clothes, and quite worn, but when you look close they're expensive very high quality armoured stuff. That blaster he's got, it's kind of small and not in-your-face, but it's a top of the range Mabari and the grip has shiny bits on it which suggests a lot of use. The mag holster most likely means he does something where he might need it in a hurry. There's a couple of bulges on his arms which might be other concealed weapons, dart projectors or something like that. He's completely calm and relaxed, high level of confidence, not tapping his fingers or shifting his weight from foot to foot or getting annoyed. And he's got two people sorting stuff out for him and ignoring the queue at the next desk, so he must be a lot more important than he looks. And the people in the other queue aren't moving across behind him, so that confirms he's very important, or very dangerous. Or both. That case on the desk, it could easily be another weapon, stripped down rifle maybe. Could he be a bounty hunter?"

"I'm impressed, lad. You're very good at this indeed." Keeper One looked a little suspicious. "You didn't cheat, did you? No Force spying or prying?"

"No sir, not at all! Truth is I don't really know how. I can't see thoughts, only feelings sometimes."

Keeper scratched his cheek as he nodded again, fat jowls bouncing a little. "All right then. But it just so happens that you're one hundred percent right. That is a bounty hunter, and a particularly good one too. I know him, used him a few times for Intelligence contracts."

Rubh'an looked pleased with himself, but a bit uncertain.

"You're good at this, but you don't know why I'm making you do it, right?" Keeper chuckled.

"Not really", Rubh'an confessed. "I kind of thought it was just an observation exercise but I guess there's something more you're getting at?"

"Of course. Everything's for learning. For this, you're learning that you can't just judge a person from what they look like, and how they dress and act, but you also need to watch how everyone else treats them. We all react subconsiously to people as well as consciously. Acting a part, however good you might be, will only get you so far in deep undercover work. To really hide yourself you have to be what you appear to be. You get me?"

Rubh'an nodded slowly, comprehension dawning. "So, when I get to the Sith, I've really got to be Sith ... Sithy? Sithish? all the way down. It's not just disguising the outside, I've got to disguise the inside too."

"You are a quick learner, Cirean was right." Keeper One looked pleased and impressed.

Rubh'an looked closely at him. "So ... now I'm guessing you aren't what you seem to be. Just an ordinary happy old man enjoying his retirement, never really cared about his job but just used to muddle through his work without being very effective."

Without apparently twitching a muscle, Keeper One somehow changed. He turned the same sharp, forceful gaze on Rubh'an that he'd used on Lokin a few weeks before. "Absolutely right, lad. But it fooled you for long enough, just as it fooled the Coruscanis, the Sith and plenty of others for a good many years."

Rubh'an blinked and gulped a bit. With the hard light brown eyes boring into his green ones, he suddenly felt that Keeper One was actually a very dangerous person. Unconsciously he slid sideways a little along the bench away from him, and, weaponless, reached inside himself for the Force as a defence.

Keeper One grinned and clapped Rubh'an on the shoulder, reverting to his jovial persona. "You're safe enough with me, lad. Come on, now you're beginning to understand what's needed, let's go back to the lodgings and start discussing ways and means of how to do it."