<A small starship, hyperspace>

 

Helen sighed. This was getting completely out of hand. Her voice was sharp. “Zinoa… Stop that.”

 

The Trandoshan stopped where she was and froze as Cradaask snarled at her. The Hunting Boar was not a large ship and Cradaask had made his opinion of the wounded Trandoshan female quite clear. It was only made worse by her cringing when Helen so much as looked at her. Zinoa had apparently expected to be made a slave, or worse, by Helen and when the human woman hadn’t the Trandoshan outcast was thrown into complete confusion. She respected Helen of course, only a fool would not be on a ship full of Trandoshans at least somewhat in her employ. None of whom liked the Trask clan one bit, and all of whom found Zinoa and her weakness to be beneath contempt. Of all the crew, only Der’Daask, the medic, even tolerated the newcomer at all. All four of the others were barely civil at the best of times, which this was not.

 

Zinoa’s current submissiveness was not helping things. Trandoshans as a whole valued strength, cunning and skill. Weakness of any kind was abhorrent to them. The fact that Zinoa had been totally outclassed by her opponent and then been left alive by Helen’s father was…unsettling to the Daask clan hunters. To them, the only good enemy was a dead one. Helen was strange by their standards, but she knew how to act around them, and truth be told, she liked the Daask clan hunters she worked with. They were rude, crude and socially unacceptable, but under all that, they were decent sorts who did what they did not out of bloodlust or desire to hurt others, but to make a difference for their clan. And they were making a difference, especially now that Helen had joined them. Helen was more analytically minded than most of the others, so she helped with planning and organization, leaving the others to handle things like, oh, blowing stuff up and causing general mayhem.

 

Bounty hunting was not a cheap enterprise and it was hard work. Helen had to smile slightly as she recalled the way she had originally thought hunters worked, that is, run in, blast everything and leave to collect a bounty. Truth be told, some hunters did just that, they were the ones who gave all bounty hunters bad reputations. But they were few and far between. Most bounty hunters could not afford the astronomical fines that might be levied if they shot the wrong person or blew up the wrong building. So research and planning were keys to the job. One had to know where the target was, what he was doing and what to expect when one went to apprehend, or…not. Helen wasn’t so keen on the other types of bounties, the ‘wanted dead’ ones. But the bounties that the crew had taken were all on scum, people whose absence wouldn’t be missed by anyone but other scum. But that meant they had a job to do, and their ‘guest’ was getting out of hand.

 

It wasn’t that Zinoa wanted to cause problems, she was just bored with lying about. Her body’s natural regeneration had sufficed to allow her to recuperate very quickly after Der’Daask had saved her life. But now by her very presence, she was causing trouble, so… The Trandoshan woman tried to genuflect again and Helen sighed.

 

“Come with me, Zinoa.” Her tone brooked no argument and the other two Trandoshans watched with some amusement as the small human led the larger Trandoshan into her office and shut the hatch. Helen sat in the chair behind her desk and waved Zinoa to another. For a moment, the Trandoshan looked worried, but Helen shook her head. “Zinoa, I went to a great deal of trouble not to kill you. Give me a bit of credit. I won’t kill you now unless you give me a reason. Cradaask and the others however…”

 

Zinoa sat, obviously uncomfortable. “…want me dead.” Her Basic was only slightly accented. She was well educated and well trained. It wasn’t her fault that facing the combination of Will Kalenath and Istara Andal had totally outclassed her ambush team. Not that she saw it that way.

 

"No." Helen shook her head. “They don’t want you dead; they don’t care one way or another. They care that you are not acting like a Trandoshan. More like a Correllia chicken lizard.” Zinoa sat up straight at the insult. She opened her mouth, but then closed it. Helen waited, but the Trandoshan didn’t speak. Finally Helen broke the uncomfortable silence. “Zinoa… What should I do with you? If you keep acting like this, one of the other crew is likely to kill you out of hand. Are you trying to get blasted?”

 

Zinoa stiffened. “No.” She said quietly. Whatever she had been expecting, she had not expected Helen to launch herself over her desk, throwing the stuff on it every which way. The smaller human grabbed the Trandoshan by the front of her ship sit and literally hauled her out of the chair. Helen was smaller than Zinoa -actually Helen was fairly average in size for a human- but working with Trandoshans had built her strength up significantly.

 

“I don’t believe you.” Helen’s voice was cold as she slapped the Trandoshan, once, twice. “Fight me!”

 

"No..." Zinoa stared at the human woman. Helen was maybe half her mass. “I… No, I must not.” Instead of responding, Helen slugged the lizard woman. Then she kicked the lizard, hard.

 

<Fool!> When Helen spoke it was in cold and clear Dosh. <If you don’t fight, I am going to beat you to within an inch of your life. Fight, you spineless excuse for a Trandoshan. Fight!> She punctuated her sentences with slaps. <Your mother was a hamster and your father smelled of elderberries!> She slapped the Trandoshan again.

 

Between the insults and the slaps, which did little damage but were humiliating, Zinoa lost her temper. With a roar, she grabbed Helen. Well, she tried to. Every time she swung, Helen simply wasn’t where the punch went. She was so enraged she barely heard Helen speaking. She was so focused on grabbing and hurting the woman that she totally missed the woman’s dodge and slide to the side that allowed Helen to take Zinoa to the floor hard. She grunted in pain as a heavy weight landed on her back and her arm was hauled back in a totally unbreakable hold. Zinao shook her herself, trying to figure out what had happened, but when she tried to move, a pull on her wrist had her stopping. Helen might not have a mass advantage, but she had position and leverage. Helen’s voice was soft.

 

“Better. It seems there is some true Trandoshan left in you." Helen said coldly. "The Trask clan has not totally inbred it out yet.” Zinoa snarled again and tried to throw the smaller human off her back, but a stunning impact had her back where she had been. Helen’s voice turned actually gentle and kind now. “You lack skill in fighting smaller and more agile opponents. That can be remedied. I actually had no idea how to fight Trandoshans before I came aboard. I learned quickly. Zinoa, what am I to do with you?”

 

"I don't know." Zinao spoke softly, muffled because half of her face was pressed hard to the floor. “All I knew was being Zinoa’Trask, warrior and hunter of clan Trask. Now… What am I? Nothing…” Shame colored her words. The weight left her back and her arm was released. She looked up to see Helen step out of reach, smart of the human woman. She stared as Helen went back around her desk and sat again, as if nothing had just happened.

 

“You are not nothing. You lack purpose at the moment. That also can be remedied. What would you like to do?” Helen had one eye on her terminal and one eye on the Trandoshan who was just now climbing to her feet a bit shaky at how easily Helen had taken her down.

 

Zinoa sat in her chair again, her face eyes alive with wonder at this change in Helen. Where before the human woman had been kind and gentle while Zinoa had been recuperating; now Helen was hard as nails, fast and tough. In short, Helen was a very capable woman, far better than Zinoa herself as a matter of fact. The Trandoshan stared at the floor before responding.

 

“I don’t know." The lizard woman admitted. "All I know is hunting, fighting and killing. It is all I have ever known.”

 

"Zinoa..." Helen’s eyes were both on Zinoa now. “Don’t tell me you have no other interests at all. Come on? Art, music, basket weaving…?”

 

"What?" Zinoa stared at Helen, her eyes alight with curiosity for the first time in a while. “Why?”

 

"Zinoa." Helen sighed. “I can’t keep you here. I am not a slaver, and you are treating me as one. The crew will kill you eventually if you keep acting like this.”

 

Zinoa froze. “I…”

 

"Zinoa, its okay." Helen shook her head. “You don’t intend to, that is obvious to anyone with eyes. But you do it. Every time I pass, you bow and cringe like I am some kind of deity. Zinoa…” Helen’s voice was exasperated now. Zinoa shook her head. She had no idea at all how to handle this. Now Helen’s voice was kind again. “Have you done anything except fight, ever?”

 

"Yes, but..." Zinoa stared at the human woman. “I… Oh, it is silly…”

 

"No, silly is acting like I am some sort of deity." Helen snorted. “Silly is genuflecting to me. My MOM doesn’t like people genuflecting to her, and she is a queen. Me? I’m just an ops planner for a bounty hunter ship now.”

 

"Understood." Zinoa sighed. “I… What was that song you were singing when you found me?”

 

"That?" Helen smiled sadly. “It was an ancient tune, it is called ‘Bind me not to the pasture’. It’s about soldiers coming home after a war.”

 

"Yes...A haunting melody." Zinoa nodded. “I liked it. I… I like music. But I cannot sing.” Not anymore… She thought with a pang.

 

"Indeed?" Helen smiled. “Have you tried recently?”

 

"Oh?" Zinoa stared at her before laughing coldly. “As if that would go over well with my old clan?”

 

"Well..." Helen smiled a bit. “You are not with them now, Zinoa. Here… Listen…” She hit a control and soft music filled the office. It was the tune Helen had been singing. Zinoa found herself humming along with it. Helen’s voice was soft. “I can’t keep you here, Zinoa.”

 

“I know.” Zinoa nodded. Her voice was sad. “I do not intend to be disruptive, it just… happens.”

 

"I know." Helen nodded. “I have made some calls, I have found a place for you. One I think you will like.” Her hand came up with a dart gun, a soft sound and Zinoa slumped in her chair, falling so slowly to the sound of sad, soft music. She was singing along with it as she fell asleep.

<Some time later>

 

Zinoa came awake to the sound of an irate female voice. “You know, would it be too much to ask for one of our ‘special’ patients to arrive by walking, instead of being tranked, in stasis, carbonite or something?” Zinoa shook herself, but gentle hands held her down on the surface she was on. “Oh, no… None of that, young warrior…” Zinoa’s eyes gradually focused on the being who was holding her, a female Cathar who was wearing a medical tunic.

 

"What?" The Trandoshan was confused, so she focused on speaking as clearly as she could. “Who are you?”

 

"I am in charge here." The Cathar smiled at her, but had her lips tight over her teeth. In Trandosahn society, showing one’s teeth was a challenge. “My name is Katherine. You are Zinoa, right?”

 

"Yes." Zinoa nodded slowly, aware of an ache in her head now. “I am Zinoa. Where am I?”

 

She looked about her. The room was a standard medical ward, bed, monitors, medical equipment ready to use, a droid sitting idle nearby. From the gravity, she was on a planet, but the climate controls of the room were good, she couldn’t tell what kind while lying here.

 

"You are in no danger here unless you bring it upon yourself." The Cathar nodded and stepped back. “You are on Tattooine, at a clinic in the city of Anchorhead. May I ask what clan…?” The medic broke off as Zinoa stilled.

 

Zinoa looked away. “I have no clan.” She was startled to feel a gentle touch on her arm. She looked up into the concerned eyes of the medic.

 

Katherine sighed. “I don’t know a lot about your people. But I assume that being clanless is a very bad thing, correct?” Zinoa nodded. Katherine slumped. “Well, I can’t wave my hands and make it all better. All I can do is make sure you are fully recovered before you go out to do… whatever it is you plan to do.”

 

"I..." Zinoa shook her head. “I have no idea what to do. I was a warrior, a hunter. But I was not good enough.” Shame colored her words. “Now, I am nothing, weak, pathetic.”

 

"Indeed?" "Katherine raised an eyebrow. “From the evidence of injury that I have seen, you were nearly killed by whatever you faced. If you had been weak, it would have killed you.”

 

Zinoa shook her head slowly. “You do not understand. To save my life, I gave up clan, family, all ties…I…” To her absolute horror, she felt her eyes start to burn. For a Trandoshan to cry…well… it took a lot. To her surprise, Katherine turned away. She stared at the Cathar, and then nodded. Katherine might not have known much about Trandoshans, but she knew one of the proud warrior people would be greatly dishonored or insulted if people saw her cry. She stammered out words now, her Basic becoming accented and broken as she fought her emotions. “Healer… I… I cannot… I must…”

 

Katherine didn’t turn back. “There is no dishonor. You have been hurt; your body is not yet fully recovered. Rest and heal, young warrior. I will have a proper meal sent in for you. You should stay in the bed for at least another hour, by then your body’s regeneration will have kicked the residue of the sedative out.” Without looking at the Trandoshan, the Cathar walked out of the room, leaving Zinoa to stare after her in wonder.

 

How did she know how to react to my weakness if she did not know us?

 

<A few minutes later>

 

Zinoa was amazed. The food was good. Oh, who was she kidding? It was incredible! Now if only the human would stop staring at her. She finished another bite and met his gaze levelly. Her voice might have been a bit on the cool side. “Is there a problem?”

 

"No." The boy shook his head. “I am to collect the dishes after you are done. I am sorry, I meant no offense. I have never met one of your people before.” Zinoa stared at him. He was young, perhaps, twenty human years old, and his face and body showed signs of serious injury. He walked stiffly, as if in great pain. And his face was a mask of scars both old and new. His voice was quiet. “If you wish me to leave I will, I was just curious.”

 

"No, no matter." Zinoa felt something flare in her, something she had no words for. She shook her head. “I am not…” She snorted sourly. “I took no offense young human, but another might. Many of my people take offense very easily and react to being angered… badly. I know I did, before…” Before she had been beaten nearly to death, before she had given up clan, home and family to survive, and before she had changed from Zinoa’Trask to this shamed, weak and pathetic creature.

 

The boy nodded. And then to her surprise he spoke in Dosh. Rough and difficult to understand, but he was trying. <I am Marcus.>

 

Zinao smiled slightly. When she spoke it was in Basic. “Less ‘Ah’ sound, and more deep on the consonant. Like this…” She spoke slowly. <I am Zinoa>.

 

"Thank you." Marcus nodded. “I like to learn as much as I can. Less chance of giving offense by accident if I know as much as I possibly can.”

 

"That is good, but..." Zinoa sighed. “Marcus, no matter what you do, you cannot please everyone. What might be pleasing to one of my people, would likely be insulting to a Mon Calamari.”

 

Marcus nodded again, but then he winced. “I under… I understand.” Zinoa stared at him. Was his skin supposed to be that color?

 

Zinoa’s voice was quiet. “Marcus?”

 

"No..." Marcus stood up. Well, he tried to. Zinoa was out of the bed in an instant and caught him as he fell. His voice was low, pained. "Got to..." He shuddered, his head slumping.

 

"Marcus?" Zinoa was at a loss. “Marcus!”

 

Zinao stared wildly around, unsure what to do. She saw a buzzer on the wall. She hit it and a moment later the door burst open. Katherine stood there, and two guards as well. The guard’s blasters didn’t move from Zinoa who froze.

 

Katherine’s voice was soft. “Zinoa…. What…?”

 

Zinao laid Marcus gently on the ground and stepped as far away from the boy as she could, her hands clasped over her head. The guard’s blasters tracked her slowly. Marcus spoke up from where he lay.

 

“No… Katherine… No… It wasn’t her…” He shuddered and passed out.

 

"Marcus?" Katherine came in and slowly knelt down beside Marcus. “What happened?” She asked carefully.

 

"I do not know." Zinoa didn’t take her eyes off the guards, and her voice was quiet. “He collapsed. His skin changed color and he fell. I caught him and hit the buzzer.”

 

“That is not a buzzer Zinoa." Katherine said with a sigh. "That is a general alarm. Every guard in this place just went on full alert.” Zinoa’s eyes went wide at that, but Katherine was looking at the boy now and shaking her head. “Idiot child.” She muttered under her breath. “I have told him, and told him and told him not to push this. But he insists on hurting himself. I swear this time I am locking him in the bed.”

 

Katherine busied herself with the boy and Zinoa just stood there, unsure of what to do. Neither of the guards had relaxed. The Trandoshan obviously didn’t know what to do, and after a moment, Katherine looked up and took pity on her.

 

“What you did wasn’t wrong, Zinoa." Katherine said gently. "If it had been a bona fide medical emergency, as opposed to a young human’s stupidity, no one would have minded at all. But with our current situation… Well…”

 

"I understand." Zinoa shook her head slowly. “I will accept whatever punishment you decree.”

 

"For trying to help?" Katherine snarled. “Geez, Zinoa I would have to punish almost everyone in the clinic. Did you know that was an alert buzzer?” Zinoa shook her head and Katherine sighed. “Then you did the right thing. The wrong way, but the right thing.” The guards came into the room slowly, never taking their eyes off Zinoa who sighed and knelt. She held out her hands for binders. Katherine shook her head. “You have got to be… Hey, wait a second…!”

 

One guard moved closer to Zinoa, careful to stay out of his colleague’s line of fire. Zinoa didn’t move as the guard stepped behind her and spoke quietly but with command.

 

“Hands.”

 

Zinoa put her hands on her head and she didn’t resist as the guard pulled them behind her and something cold clicked shut on her wrists. Katherine was sputtering, but her focus was torn between Marcus and the scene with Zinoa.

 

"Healer." Zinoa spoke slowly. “I messed up, Katherine. I do not blame them for being… cautious. Where to?” She asked the guard in front of her calmly.

 

The guard met her eyes and there was grudging approval in the human’s. “Until we know what to do with you, you will stay in a cell.” Katherine was shaking her head, but the guard sighed. “Doctor, Cranna’s orders are clear. Until we can check her bon-fides, she is to be sequestered. The cells are the safest place.”

 

Katherine sighed. “Sometimes I really, really hate that slug. Fine.” Her voice was resigned. “I will check up on her regularly. You better get her decent meals, and for the love of the Force, keep Meelie away from her!”

 

Zinoa could only stare in wonder as the guard shuddered. But the human’s voice was crisp. “Yes, Ma’am.” A hand on her arms exerted pressure and the Trandoshan woman rose slowly. The guard ahead of her waved her out and she started off towards an unknown fate.

 

<Several hours later>

 

Zinoa had expected a dingy, dark and damp hole in the ground. This was not what she had expected. Yes, the cell was small, maybe five paces by five paces. But it was almost painfully clean and neat. The bunk, while really too small for her form, was comfortable. And the meal that had been delivered had been more than satisfactory. She had heard whimpers, screams and laughter from nearby, but nothing had happened to her. Maybe because she had a guard at her door? She had heard the guard outside explaining things several times to someone, telling that person to lave several times, each time in a gentle voice. The last time, she had heard laughter that had sounded insane. But then another cell had clanged open and screams had started in that one, mixed with sounds of… ecstasy? That made no sense.

 

She was dozing a bit, she had nothing else to do, when the door of her cell slammed open and a huge furred form walked in. Her eyes went wide as she recognized the Wookiee from descriptions. Olanagychew was a wanted Wookiee, a known companion to the being she had tried to ambush, Will Kalenath. She tensed. The Wookiee was well known for martial prowess, some stories stated that he had killed more beings with his hands than Will had with his guns. She gave herself very low odds of surviving an attack. But the Wookiee didn’t attack, didn’t move from the door in fact. She stared at him and then stiffened as a voice came. One she knew.

 

“You always do make a mess, don’t you Zinoa’Trask?” Another Trandoshan walked into the room and smiled at her expression. L’trask was shaking his head. “This is another fine mess you have gotten yourself into, isn’t it?” The chief healer of the outlaw vessel Stormhawk looked her over and shook his head again. His eyes however, were dancing. Much as she remembered her elder clanmate from way back when, when he had tossed her into the air and caught her as a nestling.

 

"I..." Zinoa shook her head. “I am not Trask. Not now.”

 

"Baloney." L’trask sighed. “Come on, we need to talk.”

<An hour later>

 

Zinoa had expected many things when she had woken in the ‘care’ of Cranna the Hutt’s people. Cranna didn’t like the Trask clan, and it was reciprocated. The Trandoshan had expected to be interrogated, maybe tortured and then killed. She never expected to be having dinner with a relative, sort of relative anyway. She poked at her food, unsure about this. L’Trask looked at her from across the table.

 

They were sitting in a small private suite. L’trask had given her a tour before saying one of the rooms was hers if she wanted it. She had glanced into the room and been astounded. While not palatial buy anyone’s standards, the room was more than comfortable. It was set up for many different species, a sand bath as well as a water one in the refresher gave her all kinds of ideas, but right now, she had to focus. L’Trask was speaking.

 

“Come on, eat. You are too thin, Zinoa. The injuries you sustained had your regeneration working overtime.” The older Trandoshan put words into action, slicing off a chunk of meat and stuffing it into his mouth. She looked at him and he smiled at her. She shook her head ruefully and started eating. As he ate, L’Trask spoke. “I don’t know all of what happened to you, but I do know Will was involved.”

 

"Yes." Zinoa nodded as she ate. Her feelings on the soldier who had defeated her were ambivalent at best. But the Wookiee that sat glowering at her nearby was a pointed hint that insults might not be such a good idea at the moment. When she spoke, it was slow and careful. “He is good.”

 

L’Trask nodded sadly. “That he is. And his history with the clan gives him an edge in dealing with members of the clan.” Zina noticed that L’Trask didn’t say that either of them were still in the clan. She filed that away for review later. L’Trask shook his head slowly. “Zinoa… The clan was always out for his blood, but I asked him not to kill.”

 

Zinoa nearly spit out a bite she had just taken. Her voice was incredulous when she managed to speak. “You asked him…?” She broke off, unsure if she had given offense, but the Wookiee didn’t move.

 

"Yes." L’Trask nodded as he took another slow and careful bite. “No matter how the clan feels about me, in my heart I am still Trask. And my memories of you and the other nestlings are memories that I treasure.”

 

Zinao felt something. Something she couldn’t define. Something that she was sure she knew the name for, but… It was odd. Whatever it was wasn’t something she dealt with regularly. She shook her head and winced as L’trask glowered at her, his eyes went to her plate and she smiled slightly as she picked up another bite. Her voice was low. “I do not understand.”

 

L’Trask nodded. “When I left the clan, I knew they would send hunters after me. I knew once they figured out who Will was, who had slipped right through their claws, they would go after him as well. What would have happened?” Zinoa swallowed audibly and L’trask nodded. “Yes. At best dozens of lives lost and no gain. That human…” L’Trask shook his head. “He scares me, Zinoa.”

 

"But..." The frank admission had the female Trandoshan freezing. She shook her head slowly. “You work with him.”

 

L’Trask nodded slowly. “I do. And that makes me more afraid. I know what he is capable of. I have seen it firsthand. Zinoa, you have faced the man. Why did he leave you alive?”

 

Zinoa winced in memory. When she spoke it was low, worried. “Because the female human with him asked him not to. He slaughtered the team I was with. He and that woman. He…” She was shaking now, lost in her memories. She barely felt it when scaled arms enfolded her.

 

"It’s okay Zinoa." L’Trask’s voice was gentle. “He is terrifying. And I say that as someone who I think he counts as a friend. He is quite probably the most cold blooded individual I have ever met. I hope so anyway. If there is someone, somewhere, more of whatever he is, I certainly never want to meet them.” She looked up and his eyes were dancing.

 

"I..." Zinoa reached up and slowly returned the embrace. “Thank you, I… I failed. And I was dying. Helen saved me. I am obligated to Helen, and I couldn’t stay with her.”

 

"I know." L’Trask nodded slowly. “She called me.”

 

"Huh?" Zinoa stared at him. She couldn’t keep a note of disbelief out of her voice. “She called you?”

 

L’Trask grinned. “I do know her. I have treated her often enough. She and those crazy Daask clan fools get into enough scrapes even when they are not trying to find Will’s daughter.” He shook his head. “Zinoa… What the flarg possessed the Elders to send C’Trask of all people? They had to know how Will was going to react. C’Trask’s reputation… They had to know how Will was going to react.” The late and unlamented bounty hunter C’Trask had possessed a reputation for brutality and mistreatment of his marks exceptional even among brutal and amoral bounty hunters.

 

"I don’t know." Zinoa shook her head. “I had no idea. I was told he was just another bounty. I asked why four cadres were being sent after him, and… I was punished for asking.” She hung her head and then stiffened as L’trask hugged her again.

 

"Oh dear." L’Trask’s voice was sad. “Zinoa… I don’t know what is going to come of this. If Nia dies or that pod makes it to whatever Sith it was sent to… You saw him Zinoa. What will he do?”

 

"He will... He will..." Zinoa bowed her head and spoke a word in Dosh. <Vendetta.>

 

"Yes. For his daughter... Yes he will." L’Trask nodded soberly. Blood feuds, or Vendettas were not uncommon in Trandoshan society. But when one being took on an entire clan, that one being either had a death wish, or was incredibly good at what they did. Will was firmly in the latter category. Although L’Trask had suspicions… The older Trandoshan sighed. “What is worse... He has access to weapons of mass destruction and uses them.”

 

Zinoa shivered, and the arms that enfolded her tightened in sympathy. She had heard about the large baradium device that Will had detonated on the Sith world of Korriban. And the briefing she had received on the man, as skimpy as it had been, had warned of the possibility of nerve gasses. He was well known for using them as well. The thought of either one of those horrible weapons going off in her home city… Even if it wasn’t her home anymore…. Just the image was horrific. But then she couldn’t stop shivering. A gentle hand touched her on her scalp and L’trask cursed.

 

"Girl..." His voice was gentle. “Zinoa, when was the last time you slept, without being sedated?”

 

"I..." She shook her head. “I don’t know. A while…” Now she was falling, no, she was rising? She stared up and couldn’t restrain a wince as she looked into the face of the Wookiee who was carrying her. But she couldn’t summon the energy to be afraid. Sleep claimed her before she could summon energy to do anything.

 

<A few minutes later>

 

L’Trask finished putting his niece to bed and sighed as he covered her. Olanagychew was looking at him as the Trandoshan stood and moved slowly to the door. The Wookiee moved out and after a moment, L’Trask shut the door behind him. L’Trask sighed at the Wookiee’s expression.

 

“Go ahead, Olana.” His voice was quiet as he moved to sit back at the table.

 

<Do you have any idea how dangerous this is, doc? She is a hunter, a killer. Her team tried very hard to kill Will and might have succeeded if not for the woman with him.> Shame colored the Wookiee’s soft words. Will was his oath brother, the Wookiee had sworn a life debt after Will had rescued not just Olana, but his sister and many others from a Sith slave mine. Will had been in danger and Olana had been busy baby-sitting an information broker.

 

L’Trask nodded. He understood Shirwook well enough, having dealt with Wookiees for a long time now. He couldn’t speak it, but he understood it just fine. “Tell me something I don’t know furball. Like where else can she go? You… You saw…?” It wasn’t really a question.

 

<Yes.> Olana slumped. <I saw. She is broken, hurting, in pain. You wish to heal her?> The Wookiee’s voice was neutral.

 

"If I can." L’Trask sighed. “It wasn’t her fault Olana. She was following orders. Ah…” He shook his head sadly. “She was such a good one, all bright and bubbly. And always singing. The Scorekeeper cannot be happy with what the idiots running the clan have done to that poor child. And then she faced Will… Part of her did not survive that encounter. They abandoned her to die by all accounts. She owes them nothing.”

 

Olana sighed deeply. <I know.> When he looked up, there was no give in his expression. <Doctor, my orders are to keep you safe while you are off the ship. Even broken, the female is dangerous.>

 

"I know." L’Trask nodded. “Which is why as soon as she is reasonably stable, we care catching a ride back to the ship.” Olana stared at him. “Is there anywhere else in the galaxy where she might have a chance to be herself? And not be a danger to herself and others?”

 

<You...> Olana’s eyes went wide at that. <You cannot be serious.> L’Trask just stood there and the two stared at one another before Olana sighed. <Fine, you get to explain it to Boss.>

 

“Won’t that be fun?” L’trask said as he sat to finish his meal.

 

Olana sighed as he sat as well. <You have a very strange definition of fun, doc.>

<The next morning>

 

Zinoa was a bit bemused by this. First she had been a guest (maybe a slave even if Helen had been totally against that idea), then she had been a patient and then a prisoner. And now, she was a guest again? She shook her head slowly as she followed L’Trask up the ramp of the small ship.

 

When she had woken, she had felt a lot better. She was almost fully recovered physically. Emotionally, spiritually? Not so much. She found herself humming in the refresher when she had cleaned herself and stopped herself cold. Music wasn’t frowned upon in Trandoshan society, but her choices of music had widened a few eyes. Ballads of war, fighting and death were acceptable. Happy songs of peace and love? They were not, or at least, not in her clan. And then L’Trask had brought her breakfast and an offer. And what an offer…

 

"I..." She shook her head as she followed L’Trask deeper into the ship. “I think…” she broke off as L’Trask stopped to look at her.

 

“Yes, Zinoa?” The doctor’s voice was neutral.

 

"L'trask..." Zinoa sighed. “I don’t see how this can work. I mean… They hate the Trask clan. Aside from you.”

 

L’Trask patted her on the shoulder. “Zinoa, I don’t know if this is going to work or not. I give you my word that no one will hurt you unless you bring it on yourself. Be yourself, be honest and work hard and things will work out. If it doesn’t work out, as long as you don’t do anything too dumb, we can probably set you up with something somewhere else. So, just give it a try.” For just a moment, the older Trandoshan looked old and tired. “Please…?”

 

Zinoa stared at L’Trask. “I… I don’t want to hurt you… I…” Her voice was soft, scared almost. “I don’t know what to do.”

 

L’Trask sighed and then gathered his kin-lizard in his arms. She relaxed a little in his embrace. She wasn’t normally touchy kind of Trandoshan, but with him, it didn’t seem to matter. He was twice her age for one thing, and gentle. He spoke softly. “That’s okay, Zinoa, we are making this up as we go.”

 

"Indeed?" She couldn’t help it, she laughed. “Sounds familiar.”

 

L’Trask snorted. “Yeah, it does, doesn’t it? You can call me ‘Uncle’ if you wish, even though I am not really.”

 

Zinoa smiled, a bit sadly. He wasn’t really related to her except very, very distantly, the Trask clan was a large one. She returned his embrace and spoke softly. “Close enough. That is what I called you when I was a nestling. Times have changed. Have we?”

 

"Ah..." L’Trask sighed as he released her and stepped back. “Everything changes Zinoa. Everything. Sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse.”

 

"Uncle... I need to know..." Zinoa met his gaze calmly and spoke evenly. “Are they going to shoot me? For being who I am?”

 

L’Trask shook his head. “No. They will be upset. I…uh… Well… I won’t tell them until we arrive that you are with us. Otherwise, Boss is going to tell me to drop you somewhere.” Zinoa froze and L’Trask shook his head. “Hey!” He affected hurt pride. “You are the only family who has talked to me in eight years. If he tells me to ‘get rid of you’ I know a few places where Trandoshans are not unwelcome.”

 

"Um..." Zinoa thought for a long moment. “Will I be a threat to you? To the ship?”

 

"A threat?" L’Trask looked at her. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

 

"Then..." Zinoa shook her head. “Maybe you should just… ‘Drop me off’ as you said.”

 

"Zinoa…" L’Trask grimaced. “If I do, how long will you last? As you are?”

 

Zinoa tensed, but then relaxed a bit. A scared Trandoshan? A weak Trandoshan? She slumped. “About as long as it takes for another of our people to find me.” Most Trandoshans would react to her inability to act Trandoshan as the Daask clan hunters had. Badly. The only reason Cradaask and the others hadn’t killed her had been Helen.

 

"Yes." L’Trask nodded. “I can help you Zinoa. It will take time, and not a little of it. But I can help you.”

 

"Okay, I will try." Zinoa smiled a little. “Thank you Uncle.”

 

L’Trask smiled back. “You are welcome, come on, we lift in a few minutes.”

 

Zinoa grinned. “At least we don’t have to worry about my baggage.”

 

L’trask smiled at her. “Indeed not.” Inwardly, he was jumping for joy however. A spontaneous grin, she was recovering. Now if only he could get Boss to understand, and this ride might not be all fun and games either.

 

<Two hours later>

 

L’Trask watched with barely concealed worry as Zinoa played Dejarik. The Wookiee Olanagychew was one heck of a Dejarik player, but it seemed he may have met his match. Zinoa moved a piece into a commanding spot and trounced another of Olana’s pieces, and the Wookiee reacted by cursing loudly in Shirwook. Olana jumped from his seat and started pacing, growling. Zinao sat where she was, petrified.

 

L’Trask sighed. “Olana…” His voice was a bit on the stern side and Olana stared at him, and then at Zinoa, who was obviously terrified. L’Trask moved to stand beside his ‘niece’ and laid a clawed hand on her shoulder. “Zinoa… It’s okay. That’s just how he deals with losing. Badly.”

 

"I…" Zinoa stared from the Wookiee to the other. “I should let him win…” She slumped and moved to wipe the board. But two furry paws took her hands before she could touch the controls and held them tight. She looked up slowly and Olana, his face stern, shook his head slowly. She stiffened, afraid to even move as Olana moved her hands gently back to her lap and laid them down there before stepping back. The Wookiee shook his head and spoke in a low tone to L’Trask.

 

L’Trask smiled. “I know you don’t speak Shirwook. So I will translate until you learn, if you wish to. He says ‘No, don’t let him win. If he wins all the time, he will never learn how to play better. He is happy for an opponent who isn’t afraid to beat him. Everywhere he goes, people say ‘Let the Wookiee win.’ He says he doesn’t enjoy hurting people; he is just good at it.’” L’Trask’s voice was weary.

 

Zinoa stared from L’Trask to Olana and something in the gray furred form’s eyes… She met the Wookiee’s eyes and nodded slowly. “So am I, but I don’t enjoy it either.” She waved at the board. “Shall we?” Olana smiled widely and sat again. “New game?” Olana shook his head and Zinoa smiled a little. He was going to play it out to the bitter end; she would have done no less.

 

<Five hours later>

 

Zinoa was finally asleep. She and Olana had gone at it tooth and claw on the Dejarik board. She had taught Olana a few things and Olana had taught her a few. And it was amazing; L’Trask thought the two of them might actually be on the way to becoming friends. She would likely still be trying to figure out one of Olana’s utterly evil moves if L’Trask hadn’t insisted she get some sleep. It would be stressful when they arrived at their destination. L’Trask came back into the common area to find Olana staring at the board with a rapt look on his face.

 

"I am amazed." L’Trask smiled. “Finally met your match, eh, furball?”

 

Olana looked at him and admiration was in his eyes. <She is good.>

 

L’Trask smiled. “You were throwing the first game, weren’t you?” Olana smiled at him and L’Trask shook his head. “Every time I think I have you figured out, you do something strange.”

 

<Just to keep you on your toes, Doc.> Olana shook his head slowly. <She is…a good being. You heard her humming.> L’trask nodded.

 

“Yes.” The healer’s word was quiet. “She used to sing all the time. Until the Elders took offense.” For a moment, L’Trask looked old, tired and sad.

 

Olana looked at him. <What did they do to her? She has a wise heart for one so young. In a hunter, that is unheard of.>

 

"Yeah." L’Trask shook his head. “I don’t know what they did, and I won’t ask.”

 

<Doc...> Olana sighed. <You know Boss will. He has no choice. He has to maintain security.>

 

"Yes." L’Trask sat heavily. “I know.”

 

<Okay.> Olana looked from the doctor to the Dejarik board. <Well, I can say this with absolute sincerity. That young one is good. Sneaky and the same time, honest. A very rare combination. Whether she can be trusted or not, that remains to be seen. You know what will happen if she can’t be trusted.> It wasn’t a question.

 

"If..." L’Trask spoke softly. “If it comes to that, I will do it.”

 

<Let me.> Olana shook his head and continued kindly. <Doc, you are not a killer. If it must be done, let me do it. I will make it quick, clean and painless.>

 

"No." L’Trask shook his head. “She is my family, Olana.”

 

Olana looked at the Trandoshan he called friend. <And if Boss orders us to kill her? Can you pull a trigger on one of your family?>

 

"I..." L’trask sighed. “I don’t know Olana, I just don’t know.”

 

<I hope you don't have to.> Olana slumped. Then he stood up and walked towards the cockpit. <I will be in the cockpit if you want to talk.> Then he was gone. L’trask sighed a then stood up himself. He started towards the small medical area of the transport, he would inventory the supplies they had onboard, send requisitions for what was needed. The mindless work would keep him from thinking. From imagining what was going to happen in about five more hours. And then maybe, maybe he could sleep.

 

As he started opening cabinets he shook his head. I have done all I could. Now it is up to you, Zinoa’Trask. I just really hope you can prove to Boss that you are trustworthy. Or this will have no happy ending… He shook himself and started inventory, trying to get the tune Zinoa had been humming out of his head. Something about ‘Bind me not to the Pasture’.

<Five hours later>

 

Zinoa was scared out of her mind. She had been less than enthused with what L’Trask had told her about what was going to happen. But she figured that she really didn’t have much of a choice. Either the crew of the Stormhawk would kill her immediately, or more likely, they would interrogate her, and then kill her. After all, she and her team had gone after one of their crew. They had failed spectacularly, but that was beside the point, she had tried to kill the man. A gentle hand on her arm steered her and she nodded slightly. She had been even less than enthused when told she would be blindfolded for the walk from the ship to wherever they were taking her. Being blind was not fun. Of course being drilled by multiple blasters would be even less fun, so she had acquiesced without complaint. The grip on her arm was gentle, but solid and truth be told, she needed the help to walk.

 

When she had woken, L’Trask had been there along with two armored forms. She had complied with every instruction. L’Trask had apologized quietly as he had bound her wrists in front of her and ankles with a hobble chain. But she hadn’t taken her eyes off the two Stormhawk marines. For their part, neither of them had taken their eyes off of her. They had also been very careful to keep their rifle muzzles pointed at her despite L’Trask being in the way. Zinoa was not about to endanger what might be the only member of her kin who would still talk to her, so she had quietly, meekly even, complied with all instructions. After her limbs had been bound, she had been placed on her feet and a loose hood had been placed over her head. Whatever it was made of, she couldn’t see anything through it, and then they had started her off. She had felt a ramp. Then she had heard lots of noise that was normal in hangar bays or flight decks, then a hatch hissed shut behind her and she was walking endlessly through darkness.

 

Being blind was no fun at all, she decided and she hissed a little as she stumbled just a bit. The hand on her arm gave a gentle squeeze that she took for reassurance and then guided her to the left. She followed without comment. A hatch hissed in front of her and she tensed as a voice came to her ears.

 

The female voice sounded bemused. “Do you have any idea how much trouble you just caused, L’Trask?”

 

The voice of her kin-lizard spoke from nearby. She felt a bit bereft that he wasn’t the one guiding her, but then again, she was dangerous. It wouldn’t make sense to have him in the position of a potential hostage. L’trask’s voice was weary, as if he hadn’t slept recently. “Yes. I do, Gaia.”

 

His simple words had Zinoa tensing. Was he in trouble because of her? What had she done to him? The hand on her arm twitched and she followed the instructions. The hand led her to what felt like an examination table and then several hands helped her get up onto it. It was fairly comfortable as examination tables went, and she lay back and tried to relax as her bonds were removed. She didn’t resist as other restraints were locked into place. These were stronger, and more comprehensive as well as being totally beyond her ability to break in any way. She ignored them, trying to hear what was going on around her. A clawed hand patted her shoulder and she relaxed just a little.

 

“Watch your eyes, Zinoa.” L’Trask’s gentle words had Zinoa shutting her eyes tightly and then she felt the hood come off. “Ok, you can look now.”

 

Zinoa opened her eyes and smiled at L’Trask who nodded and smiled back to her. Then she looked around. She was in a fairly standard medical examination room. All around her equipment hummed, some of it she could identify, some of it she couldn’t. Then she saw something that had her stiffening in the bonds that held her tightly in place. The creature’s many eyes on their stalks were all looking at her. She had never seen that species before, but it looked…hungry.

 

L’Trask looked at the creature and shook his head. “You are scaring her, Gaia.”

 

Half of the creature’s eyestalks turned to look at L’Trask and when it spoke, it was the female voice from before. “She is not scared of just me, are you girl?” Zinoa would have nodded, but her head wouldn’t move. Gaia sighed. “Smart girl. I won’t hurt you child. Your name is Zinoa? Mine is Gaia.” The voice was gentle now, and despite her fear, Zinoa felt herself relaxing. Whoever this being was, she wasn’t going to kill Zinoa out of hand, probably. “You have an appointment, L’Trask. Don’t keep him waiting.”

 

L’Trask nodded, but his gaze went back to Zinoa. “Zinoa… I have to go for a while; I have to talk to some people. Gaia will do a complete examination. I will be back as soon as I can.”

 

"Did..." Zinoa made a face. “Did I get you in trouble?” Her voice was quiet.

 

"No." L’Trask snorted. “I got myself in trouble. I can do that just as well as anyone else.” He patted Zinoa’s shoulder and then turned to Gaia. “Be gentle.” Then he was gone.

 

Zinoa stared after him for a long moment before turning her eyes back to the strange creature, which was also staring after him. A mass of ripples went through the huge jelly-like body as the creature turned back to face Zinoa. The Trandoshan could not resist a shudder as the being came a little closer and many eyes looked her over. Gaia’s voice was quiet.

 

“I have never seen him so worried." The creature said softly, unsure. "Who are you, young one?”

 

"I..." Zinoa closed her eyes. “I am Zinoa, of no clan. But before…. I was of the Trask clan, and I called him ‘Uncle’, even if he wasn’t really my ‘Uncle’, he liked being called that.”

 

"Uh..." Gaia stared at her. “Trask clan… Oh dear…”

 

Zinoa sighed. “Do whatever you must, just… whatever you do, don’t let them hurt him. He was kind to me. He didn’t need to be, but he was always kind to me. I…” She shook herself as much as she could in her bonds and sighed again. “Do what you must.”

 

"Easy, young one." Gaia rolled closer and there was a peculiar note in her voice when she spoke. “I will be as gentle as I can girl, I swear it.” Zinoa tensed as a pair of tentacles reached out towards her, but then they touched her something odd happened. She was tensed, but her body relaxed of its own volition. Matter of fact, she couldn’t move at all! She tried to speak, tried to scream, but nothing came out and the huge form sighed again. “It will be okay. Sleep, child…” Another tentacle touched the side of her head and she was still screaming silently as darkness claimed her.

 

<Not very nearby aboard the ship>

 

“Have you lost your mind?” The cold, clear words of Stormhawk Boss had L’trask tensing. The fully armored form sat behind his desk in his spartan office and just shook his head.

 

"I don’t know." L’Trask shook his head slowly. “Maybe. But she needed help and she wasn’t going to get it. Cranna has a history with the Trask clan hunting me, just as this ship does.” The Trandoshan shook his head. “Boss, I knew this was going to be a problem, but I couldn’t just leave her there. She was…” L’Trask felt his eyes burn and he looked away. He tensed as he felt a hand on his shoulder.

 

“What, doc? What is wrong with her?” Boss’ words were soft. The human didn’t try and look the healer in the eye, Trandoshans did not cry in public, it simply wasn’t done. And as long as neither acknowledged the tears that were falling now, it would be fine.

 

“She is afraid.” L’Trask said simply.

 

“And?” Boss prompted quietly.

 

L’Trask shook his head. “Of everything. Istara and Will very nearly killed her, and then she believes she had to give up everything she believed in to survive. She feels she failed her kin, that she failed herself, and she is afraid of everything. You know how my people feel about cowards.”

 

“Osik…” Boss cursed softly. “Doc… Why? Why bring her here? You have to know how the crew is going to react.”

 

"Because..." L’Trask sighed. “Because anywhere else I could have left her, she was going to die. She was such a good kid before they twisted her into a ’perfect’ hunter. Always singing, always laughing. I…” L’Trask froze as Boss spun him around.

 

“Doc, are you asking me what I think you are asking me?” Boss’ voice was quiet, but commanding.

 

"Yes." L’Trask nodded. “This may be the only place in the galaxy where she can heal, where she can be herself. I ask that you put her name forth to join the crew.”

 

Boss stiffened into immobility. “Doc…” Then the armored form sighed and went back around his desk. He was shaking his head. “Always the hard way, huh, doc?” L’Trask remained silent and still. “You know I can’t decide this on my own. I will put it out at the meeting tonight. You better stay away from it, doc, it’s likely to get… loud.”

 

"I know." L’Trask nodded slowly. “I am too close to this, Boss, I can’t…remain…objective… I…” He broke off and turned away again.

 

Stormhawk Boss sighed. “I know. Gaia and Hawkir will do what they can for her. Does she know what you planned?” L”trask nodded silently. Boss’ voice was sour now. “I am glad someone did. But you know the crew’s judgment will be final. Nothing I say or do will change that.”

 

"I know." L’Trask nodded as he turned back to face Boss. “I know. If it comes to it, I will do it.” He dreaded the thought of shooting his ‘niece’ but if it came to that, he would prefer that he did it, rather than some vengeance crazed crewperson. At least if he did it, he would make it quick and painless.

 

"Okay. I don't like this. You shouldering this, but okay." Boss sighed again. “Well, what am I to do with you then? You willingly and knowingly brought a security risk aboard. A bounty hunter of a clan that hates our guts.” L’trask remained silent and there was a long silence. Finally Boss spoke softly. “Until further notice, you are confined to quarters. Gaia and Hawkir will cover your shifts. Go on, get out of here.” L’trask nodded and left the room. Once he was gone, Boss shook his head slowly. “Of all the people on board, why did it have to be his niece…?”

<Some time later>

 

Zinoa woke up scared. That was nothing new. She had woken afraid ever since she had… She froze as a quiet voice sounded from nearby.

 

“Hello.” The voice was pleasant. Zinoa’s eyes shot open and she stared at the female Cathar sitting just out of reach beside the bed the Trandoshan was lying in. This wasn’t a being she knew.

 

“Um… hello?” Zinoa said a bit shyly. She wasn’t sure what had happened after she had been sedated. The last thing she remembered… She stiffened. The last thing she remembered was the odd alien knocking her out. She stared around. She was in a different room from the medical bay she had fallen asleep in. It looked like a fairly standard shipboard room, bed, desk, several chairs, one of which the Cathar was sitting in. The Trandoshan tried to sit up and couldn’t. She wasn’t restrained, just very weak. “Wha…?” She asked in a quiet voice.

 

"It’s okay Zinoa." The Cathar smiled gently. “I am Nine, we use numbers instead of names aboard because it’s safer for members of our families, such as they are. You feel weak because the docs put you through the wringer. It is standard operating procedure when we get a newcomer aboard. But in your case, we had to be extra sure.”

 

"What?" Zinoa looked at herself, but there didn’t seem to be anything physically wrong with her. “Why…? Oh… yeah…” She slumped. “Because of who I was.”

 

"Yeah." The Cathar, Nine, nodded. “Yeah, we had to be sure you were not carrying anything. It wouldn’t be the first time someone tried to get something nasty aboard.”

 

"I...see..." Zinoa thought about that for a moment, and then she shook her head slowly. “Would the medics at Cranna’s clinic have missed something like that?”

 

Nine sighed. “They have before. They are not perfect. But the good news is that you are clean, and you and are very clean, inside and out now.”

 

Zinoa stared at the Cathar and then her face changed color as she took the Nine’s meaning. “Yuck…” She said quietly.

 

"Yep, yuck." Nine smiled at her. “The good news is that you are done with that. The bad news is that now you get to go through another wringer.”

 

Zinoa couldn’t restrain a gulp. “Uh… Do I want to know?” She asked carefully.

 

Nine nodded. “You need to.” She said quietly. “L’Trask told us that he suggested to you that this ship might be a good place for you. What do you think?”

 

"I..." Zinoa seemed to wilt. “I don’t know. All I know about this ship is what I was told by my Elders. But since I have not been chopped into bits and served as a meal…” She grinned a bit forlornly. “I have no idea what to expect.”

 

Nine snickered a bit at that. ‘The day is young, girl. But okay…” She became serious. “I am the official crew representative. That is, I handle things that they want handled. And right now, they want to know about you. L’trask is a respected member of this crew. He has saved the lives of almost everyone aboard at one time or another. He has made his position quite clear. He wants you aboard, to be given time to heal, to learn and to come to grips with what happened to you. What do you want?”

 

"Me?" Zinoa stared at the Cathar. “What?”

 

"Zinoa..." Nine shrugged. “What do you want? It’s important, if you don’t want to be here, it will cause all kind sof problems. All kinds of worse problems I should say.”

 

"What do you mean?" Zinoa stiffened. “My being here is causing problems?”

 

Nine nodded. “Zinoa… Your clan has hunted this ship and her crew for a long time. And not just those who can fight back. Several family members of crew have been taken or killed by Trask clan hunters.”

 

Zinoa stared at the Cathar. “What?” Her voice was incredulous.

 

Nine sighed. “You have to know that they will do anything to get to Will…” She broke off as Zinoa made a small noise. She stared at the Trandoshan. “Zinoa?”

 

Zinoa barely heard Nine. Her eyes were large as they looked at Nine, but obviously, they didn’t see the Cathar. No, she was seeing something far different from the kind cat woman. She was seeing green eyes. Will Kalenath’s cold, dead green eyes as he looked her over in preparation to gunning her down. A droid might have had more emotion that that inhuman face. And then she wasn’t seeing him. She was seeing something else, something worse. She shivered a bit, trying to get the image out of her head. But the scowling Elder was reaching for her again, the shockstick in his hand. She heard Nine speaking again, but she couldn’t respond. Another voice was speaking to her, but she couldn’t focus on it. She couldn’t…

 

Zinoa’s cheek suddenly stung and she was pulled back to reality. A very different one from what she remembered before she had been paralyzed by her fear. She was sitting up in her bed and a warm body held her as she shivered. Nine’s voice was soft, concerned as furry arms held her.

 

“Was that necessary?” Nine's voice was sharp. "We know about flashbacks."

 

"Yes." A new voice said. Zinoa looked up into kind eyes as a human in Jedi robes stepped back a pace. His voice was even. “Hello Zinoa. I am sorry for striking you, but I had to get you to focus on the now, rather than the past. Sudden pain works sometimes and is often gentler than drugs or the Force.”

 

"I know." Zinoa nodded slowly. “Thank you. I… I haven’t had one that bad in a while.” It had taken Helen some time to calm Zinoa down from her last one. She felt the arms that held her tighten a bit as Nine gave her a squeeze.

 

"Oh girl..." Nine’s voice was calm and gentle but held horror underneath. “What did they do to you?”

 

Zinoa tried to focus, but she couldn’t. Suddenly, she couldn’t even breathe. The Jedi reached out again and Zinoa braced for another slap, but instead, the Jedi laid a gentle hand against her head and her fear…vanished. No, it didn’t disappear, but it receded and it wasn’t as strong. She gasped out words as her body relaxed. “Th… Tha… Thank you…” She slumped and the arms that held her lowered her gently to the bed.

 

"I am glad to help." The Jedi nodded as he stepped back again. “You are welcome, Zinoa. I am Hawkir Strum. How old are you, Zinoa?” His voice was moderated, even and gentle. It soothed her as Nine withdrew a bit.

 

“Twenty two standard years. I…” Zinoa’s face burned with shame as she recovered slightly. Not only had she made a complete fool of herself in front of strangers, but she had made a complete fool of herself in front of strangers she had been supposed to be trying to impress.

 

"Easy." Nine patted her hand where it lay on the bed. “It’s okay Zinoa.”

 

"No." Zinoa shook her head. “No, it’s not. I… I don’t know what to do…”

 

"Zinoa." Nine looked at her, and Zinoa could swear that compassion as in the other female’s eyes. “What do you want to do?”

 

"What do I want?" Zinoa slumped. “I want to go home, but… I can’t. Even if I did… I would be killed in seconds if I appeared like this.”

 

"Huh?" Nine looked at her. “Why can’t you go home, Zinoa? I know the Trandoshan view on cowardice, which this is not, but there is something more, isn’t there?”

 

Zinoa felt odd, but put it down to whatever had been done to her before. She shook her head. “I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t talk about it.” She put the slur in her voice down to her emotions. She had literally no way at all to know that she was still being drugged and every response was being monitored and recorded.

 

"Please." Nine’s voice was still gentle. “Zinoa… It’s important. When did you leave Dosha?”

 

"I..." Zinao sighed. “Nine standard years ago.” She didn’t understand the hiss that came from Nine or the sudden intent look of the Jedi. “What?” She asked blearily.

 

"You were... thirteen?" Nine stared at her. “Why would they send you out at thirteen? You cannot have been trained properly by then.”

 

Zinoa shrugged. “Big for my age. And…” To her horror, she started to cry. “They wanted me dead. I was useless… And now, I am again…” But when she looked up, neither of the observers was looking at her. Her eyes went wide as she saw Nine and Hawkir both looking away, giving her time to stop crying without being seen by them. She shook herself, focusing on her breathing. She managed to stop crying in a short while. “Thank you.” She said quietly as she shook her head.

 

"Who?" Nine’s voice was intent now. “Who wanted you dead, Zinoa?”

 

Zinoa shuddered, but managed to control her grief. “My parents.” Whatever the Trandoshan might have expected, the stunned sound that came from Nine and the hiss of disbelief that came from Hawkir were not it.

 

"I..." Nine’s voice was hushed, disbelieving. “Your parents wanted you dead?”

 

Zinoa nodded, and when she spoke her Basic was quick, jerky. “Didn’t hunt, didn’t follow scorekeeper as others did, didn’t obey, got punished too often, embarrassment to family… Sent me off to hunter cadre. Told to ‘Die well’. Elder of cadre… He…” She broke off, unable to continue.

 

Nine was leaning close now. “Zinoa, what did he do?”

 

Zinoa was shaking her head, and trying to cower away. “No… No… Please don’t make me remember that… please…” She was begging, a horrible thing for a Trandoshan to do, but she didn’t care.

 

"Come on girl, easy..." Nine was pulling the Trandoshan up and held her as the lizard shuddered, trying to control her emotions. “What happened, Zinoa? We need to know.”

 

"I..." Zinoa laid her head on Nine’s shoulder and tears were falling freely now. “I was given to the cadre. As a toy.” Nine stiffened and then hugged the Trandoshan tighter. Zinoa continued in a dead tone. “They abused me, but… Then he took me. He said he was going to ‘cure’ me. The Elder, Grul'Trask.” She couldn't keep a shudder from working it's way down her spine when she spoke his name.

 

"Zinoa." Hawkir’s voice was low and gentle as he stood nearby. “What did he do Zinoa?”

 

"He..." Zinoa’s voice was empty of inflection, but her eyes were full when she spoke again. “Three years. Every day for three years, he would spend the day breaking my bones, and then ‘instructing’ me in the proper worship of the Scorekeeper. Usually with a shockstick. Even the rest of the cadre, when they found out, they were appalled. But they didn’t stop him, he was an Elder.”

 

"My god." Nine squeezed Zinoa tight. “How did you survive?”

 

Zinoa slumped. “Played along, after a while. He was suspicious of course. But in the end, he was convinced that I was ‘converted’ to the proper faith. He was elevated and promoted for his success with me. I… I wanted to serve the Scorekeeper, but killing people never seemed right. Wanted to…” Her voice was weary now. “Wanted to make a difference…” She was weaving now and Nine laid her gently back on the bed.

 

Nine’s voice was gentle. “Sleep, Zinoa. No one will hurt you now. Rest.” The Trandoshan looked at her and Nine smiled. “It will be okay.” Zinoa took those kind words into slumber with her.

 

<Nearby, a few minutes later>

 

Stormhawk Boss sat at the desk and sighed as he stared at the screen that showed Zinoa sleeping. The lizard woman was twitching in her sleep, even the drugs she had been given couldn’t keep her nightmares at bay completely. His voice was quiet. “You believe her.” It wasn’t a question.

 

Nine nodded. “Both Gaia and Hawkir concur. The injuries she sustained left permanent marks in her skeletal structure. According to both of them, the injuries were not faked. It may be a long range plan of some kind, but… Her responses… Bad enough to be given as a ‘toy’ to a group of Trandoshan hunters, but then to be thrown to the tender mercy of a religious fanatic? Boss, the crew is unanimous.” Much of the crew had been watching the interrogation; after all, they had a stake in possible future crewmates. “We will give her a chance.”

 

Boss nodded slowly. “Okay, Hawkir…” The Jedi nodded. “Move her back to Medical. She is not to be left alone at any time. Nine… Would you mind being a mentor to her?”

 

Nine smiled sadly. “What else can I do?” Her voice held bitterness.

 

"Nine?" Boss looked at her. “Are Gaia’s therapies helping at all?”

 

"They are." Nine nodded slowly. “A bit, yeah, but I won’t be able to fly again for a while.” The inner ear damage she had taken during a dogfight had been… extreme. She hadn’t realized until much later just how extreme. The one, and only, time she had managed to get behind the stick, in a simulator, she had managed it for two minutes before becoming violently ill. Gaia had promised to help, and the Islanian’s medical ability was nothing short of astounding, but there were limits.

 

Boss nodded to all of the undercurrents to Nine’s words. “We will keep you busy. We do need you.”

 

Nine nodded. Then she saluted and left the room, Hawkir following silently. Boss stared after them for a moment and then shook his head and stared at the screen again. When he spoke it was quiet. “I promise you this, girl. If you are telling the truth, that Elder won’t get another year older. If Will doesn’t kill him, we will…”

<A day later>

 

“I do not understand.” Zinoa was more than a bit confused by how things had changed so rapidly. She had woken in Medical, under the care of Gaia and Hawkir again, but this time, she had been treated well, fed and cleaned and then she had been given this…

 

The uniform she was wearing now was a simple jumpsuit. But it was anything but simple on close inspection. The actual fabric, if her touch wasn’t deceiving her, was some kind of light armor. Add then the boots... She usually didn’t wear boots; most shoes wouldn’t fit her clawed feet, so she was totally unused to having things on her feet. But the boots also were armored, and they were comfortable, if odd. They were unlike any boots she had ever seen, thinner, yet stronger than any leather or plastic she had ever encountered. She smiled in wonder as she scratched one with a claw tip, but it left no mark. Whatever they were made of was strong! She had needed help to get into them, since she had never worn boots before, but Nine was patient and kind.

 

"Oh?" The Cathar was sitting nearby smiling as Zinoa put the new clothing through its paces. When she spoke, her voice was quiet. “What do you not understand?”

 

"Why?" Zinoa shook her head slowly. “Why are you being nice to me? I know I said a bunch of things when I was… I think I was drugged. Wasn’t I? I expected to be shot, or spaced.”

 

Nine sighed. “Zinoa, you are hardly the first person to come aboard who has a history with us. Hell, we have even had Sith aboard, and that was not fun at all.” Zinoa’s eyes went wide at that and Nine shrugged. “The enemy of my enemy and all that, but it wasn’t easy, not by a long shot.”

 

Zinoa stared at the Cathar for a moment and then shook her head slowly. “I understand the boots, sort of. They feel weird, but then again, I have never worn boots before. But why these?” She was staring at a pair of gloves, large gloves that had three fingers; they seemed to be made of the same strange material. Likely they were just her size, like everything else.

 

Nine smiled a bit sadly. “We go into battle an awful lot, Zinoa. Far more than we want to. So, everyone aboard has to be ready to help out, we have no space or resources for deadweight. So… Do me a favor… Reach behind your collar.” Zinoa did as instructed. “There is a tab that should be properly situated for a claw there, if it’s not, we can adjust things a bit. Pull it.”

 

Zinoa blinked but did as instructed. She was startled when something popped off the back of her outfit. She froze. “Uh… What did I do?”

 

Nine nodded. “Reach down carefully and pull the mass up over your head. Once you are wearing the gloves you won’t have to worry about accidental punctures, but you will lose a little dexterity.”

 

"Um..>" Zinoa frowned as she did as ordered. “I didn’t have a lot of that to begin with… Whoa…” She smiled as she realized that what she was seeing was a hood. But it wasn’t decorative, as soon as it came down over her face; it slid down to her collar and latched with a click. She heard a soft hissing and the hood inflated a bit. “Is this what I think it is?” She asked in a delighted tone.

 

Nine smiled. “It is an emergency vac suit. We have taken hull damage in the past, enough to depressurize the ship on occasion.” Nine looked away for a moment, obviously lost in memory, and from her expressions not good memories.

 

"Oh." Zinoa slumped. “I am sorry.”

 

Nine snorted. “For what? It wasn’t your fault.”

 

"Um..>" Zinoa shook her head. “How do I get it off?” She asked as she explored the hood carefully with her claws.

 

Nine smiled. “On the chest piece, right below the neck in the middle, is a button. Hit it with a closed fist twice.” Zinoa did as instructed and stared in amazement as the hood unlatched and retracted. Nine spoke again, this time in a warning tone. “You only have about an hour’s worth of air in there, and the hood is much more fragile than the rest of the suit. But it can and will save your life if the ship takes hull damage again. I wish we had possessed these things before now. Might have saved a bunch of lives.” Her voice was sad now.

 

"I don't understand." Zinoa shook her head slowly. “Nine, this has to be expensive. This suit alone has to be incredibly expensive. Why waste it on me?”

 

"It's not just you." Nine sighed. “We all wear those now, and before you say anything, you need to know, this whole ship is wired for sound and video. So watch what you say, Internal Security has no sense of humor.”

 

Zinoa nodded. “I have seen the cameras, and I understand. With all the enemies that this ship has, I am amazed that you trust me at all.”

 

Nine shook her head. “We don’t.” Zinoa stared at her and Nine shrugged. “We can’t. We will give you a bit of freedom aboard. Abuse it and there is only one punishment. Clear?”

 

Zinoa nodded. “Clear.”

 

"Good." Nine smiled. “Enough gloom and doom, ready for a tour?”

 

Zinoa nodded as she picked up the gloves. She stared at them for a moment. “I…uh… I might need some help with these… I can’t seem to put my finger on the problem.”

 

Nine snickered at the Trandoshan’s tone and came to assist the younger female. “Keep your sense of humor, young one, it will keep you sane.”

 

Zinoa snorted as she and Nine struggled to get the gloves on. “Sanity is overrated.”

 

<Two hours later>

 

The tour had been fast, but comprehensive. They had started in Medical where Zinoa had woken that morning, and then visited the main hangar bays. It was odd, Zinoa reflected, to have landing and launch facilities separated, but it did make sense. This way, if a damaged ship crashed on landing, it wouldn’t mess up the launch facilities. And she was astounded by the number of fighters she saw in various stages of preparation. Aurek class tactical strikefighters, four Chela class interceptors, even something she was sure was an old Star Saber –a museum piece if anything was, but in prime condition- all looked to be in readiness for combat. Her tour of the bridge spaces had been quick and silent, the armored form of Stormhawk Boss had given her a small nod as she had passed, and she had been to unnerved to say or do anything. Mess halls, workshops, a small library, two rec centers, her mind was whirling at all the stuff that had been packed into this ship. Then she stopped cold.

 

"A pool?" Her voice was incredulous. “Who puts a pool on a spacecraft?”

 

Nine grinned at her. “We do. Swimming is good exercise and… Oh hello, One Eighteen.” Her voice was cool now.

 

A young human woman was coming out of what was obviously a locker room, toweling her hair. She froze on seeing Nine. “Uh… Hi Nine…”

 

Nine’s face was impassive. “You missed our last session.” Zinoa stared from one to the other; the human didn’t seem to notice her.

 

The girl gulped and stammered. “I… Uh… That is, I had a full diagnostic to run. I was delayed.”

 

Nine crossed her arms and looked stern. “One Eighteen, enough is enough. You have missed two sessions in a row, and three before that.” Nine looked at her closely and sighed. “You have been drinking again, haven’t you?” The girl shook her head, but Nine shook hers. “I can smell it, even over the shower. Girl… You are never going to get better unless you face this.”

 

"I..." One Eighteen shook her head quickly. “Nine, I need to get…” She broke off as Nine shook her head.

 

“You need to get back to your quarters and explain to your dad where you have been, next session is this afternoon. Be there, or I am coming looking for you. Clear?” Nine’s words made it clear that if the girl didn’t show up, Nine would probably bring a rope with her when she came looking.

 

"Clear." The girl froze. “Nine… I…”

 

But Nine had heard enough. She stepped close and grabbed the girl in a tight hold. “How much have you…? Aw crap… Come on…”

 

"No." The girl protested, but didn’t struggle, Zinoa noticed. “Nine, I have to be on duty in…”

 

Nine shook her head. “Come on, girl, to Medical with you. You are going to be very sick in the very near future. Zinoa, we can continue the tour later, can you…” She broke off as the girl in her arms convulsed. “Aw crud… Zinoa… help me with her please…” Zinoa came close and lifted the girl into her arms easily. Nine made a face. “She is going to be sick all over the place. Gaia dosed her with something to inhibit drinking after her last incident.”

 

Zinoa snorted. “Won’t be the first time I have had someone be sick on me, back to Medical…? Uh…?” She realized she had no idea where she was or how to get back to Medical.

 

Nine grabbed a handful of things out a convenient locker and started off. “This way and try not to… Aw man…” She was almost in time with the trash bag, catching most of what One Eighteen spewed. Some of it hit the floor, but not a lot. Most of what she missed landed on Zinoa who shrugged. “Idiot girl.”

 

Zinoa waited until she was sure the One Eighteen was done before starting off, tryignto keep the bounding of her cargo minimal. “What happened to her?”

 

"Not her fault, not really." Nine sighed as she finished cleaning up the small mess that remained and followed. “She was captured by the Sith and tortured. They are very good at breaking people. But we were in time, mostly.”

 

"Okay." Zinoa nodded and then stopped as she felt One Eighteen start to shudder. “Here we go again…”

 

"Yuck." Nine shook her head as she held the bag to One Eighteen’s face. “This might be a long walk…”

 

Zinoa snorted. “I don’t have anything else to do today.” Nine snickered at that and then focused on the girl in the Trandoshan’s arms. Finally, One Eighteen was done and Nine withdrew the bag, just a little.

 

“How do you count Jagganath?” Nine asked quietly when they started off again. Jagganath score was an important facet of Trandoshan society, with each point bringing them closer to their goddess, the Scorekeeper. But most Trandoishans counted hunts and kills to claim Jaggnath.

 

"I don't know." Zinoa sighed. “Nothing feels right, but fighting and killing truly feel wrong. Every time I have had to, I feel that the Scorekeeper disapproves.”

 

"I am glad. Not everyone is a killer." Nine smiled as she discarded the full bag and pulled another from the handful she was carrying. “Then we need to find you something that does ‘feel’ right for you.”

 

"Yeah." Zinoa smiled a bit forlornly. “Easier said than done.”

 

Nine smiled. “Nothing worthwhile is ever easy, Zinoa… Case in point…” One Eighteen was gagging again. The Cathar held the bag to the unconscious girl’s face again. Zinoa shook her head, this would indeed, be a long walk.

<Eight hours later>

 

Zinoa hadn’t been sure what to expect when Nine had suggested she come to the ‘session’ as Nine called it. But when she entered the room, the four others in the room nodded to her and smiled. Nine was sitting with the three others. One Eighteen was sitting looking like something a Nexu had dragged in, her face an almost Trandoshan scales shade of green. The girl hadn’t stopped throwing up until they had reached Medical. Gaia had been…less than enthused. The strange creature, Zinoa had finally determined that she was an Islanian whatever that was, had spent almost twenty minutes berating the young human for stupidity. Nine and Zinoa had left soon after they were sure that the medics didn’t need them. Then Nine had resumed the tour, and Zinoa’s head was whirling. There were so many facets of this ship, so many things working together to make this ship one of the deadliest in the galaxy and a home for a whole bunch of strange people. But now, she was here, but to do what? She wasn’t sure. It was a small room with five chairs laid out in a circle, the Trandoshan’s trained eyes noticed that the chairs were just far enough apart that no one could reach any of the others easily. Four chairs were occupied,a nd the fith, right beside where Nine sat, was empty. A small table with what looked like snacks was set up against a wall. Otherwise the room was bare.

 

"Hello." Nine smiled at her. “Zinoa, come on in, take a seat, we have refreshments on the table there. But no booze.” Her voice was hard now as she glared at One Eighteen, who flinched. Zinoa smiled at the girl as she stepped toward the indicated table and then stopped. Someone had been reading up on her people. Nestled in the group of snacks was a bowl that stirred a little. She stared at it, and then at Nine, who smiled. Nine nodded. “We thought you might like that.”

 

"Wow..." Zinoa stared at the bowl and then slowly picked it up. Indeed, it had the live worms that were a delicacy among her people. She smiled. “Thank you.”

 

"Well..." Nine sighed. “This is going to be rough enough, for all of us. You have met One Eighteen, this is Sixty Three and Ninety Seven.” Zinoa nodded to the two others. A human female with golden head fur and a Twi’lek female with green mottled skin smiled and nodded back to her. One Eighteen would not meet her gaze. Nine waved Zinoa to the sole unoccupied seat, and the Trandoshan sat carefully. She hesitated as she took a bite from the bowl, but none of the other occupants reacted, so she swallowed carefully. The delicacy tasted as good as she had imagined. Her orange eyes lidded themselves as she enjoyed the pleasure. But then she shook her head and set the bowl aside.

 

"I..." The Trandoshan’s voice was quiet. “This is good, thank you, but I should save some for later. I assume that this ‘session’ is about my… um…” She broke off, unsure of how to say what was on her mind.

 

"Actually, no." Nine shook her head. “These sessions are where we talk about things that we don’t normally talk about in public. What happens in this room stays in this room.” Zinoa stared at her, and then her gaze went to where the security camera was moving in its endless circuit. Nine smiled a bit savagely. “We have to maintain security. But…” She keyed a remote and the camera stopped whirring. Nine smiled at Zinoa’s expression. “We have an hour now.”

 

Zinoa felt herself freeze. To be free, even if just for a little while, from the omnipresent all seeing eyes that covered her… She wasn’t sure how to react. Nine took pity on her and spoke to the Twilek called Ninety Seven. “Cul’tai, how are you now?”

 

Zinoa stared from Nine to the Twi’lek who smiled at the Trandoshan. There was a bit of melancholy to the smile however. When she spoke it was lyrical and quiet. “While we are not in public, we can use names. I… I don’t have any family left for people to threaten anyway. Except the ship and people will threaten them regardless. To answer your question, Sylvie, I… I don’t know.” Zinoa stared at the Twi’lek, her heart lurching as she realized something. The woman’s face was a mask, underneath the hard exterior, there was pain. She didn’t know how she knew it, but she did. Zinoa was trying to figure out what she was feeling when the Twi’lek spoke again. “You made me promise, but I… I don’t know. It hurts so much and I can’t…” The Twi’lek was crying now.

 

Nine, or Sylvie as she apparently was known here, sighed. “Cul’Tai, you are stronger than this, you need to be strong. For your family.”

 

"My family?" Cul’Tai shook her head slowly. “The ship? Or the ones who were violated and murdered in front of me…? I…” She shook her head quickly now. “I feel so torn, so… Barren. I want to go on, Sylvie, but…”

 

"Cul'Tai." The Cathar’s voice was intent. “How do you feel now? What do you feel now?”

 

Cul’Tai sighed sadly. “I feel… anger… fear… I don’t hurt. Gaia, L’Trask and Hawkir have taken care of the physical pain but… But they can’t…” Zinoa stiffened in her seat as One Eighteen snorted derisively.

 

"Wuss." The young human girl’s voice was dismissive. “Go ahead, blow your brains out, no one will…” She broke off as the Cathar glared at her.

 

“Brianna, shut it.” There was no give in the cat woman’s voice now. The human woman looked at the Cathar and froze from whatever she saw in Sylvie’s eyes. Sylvie’s voice turned sorrowful. “Cul’Tai…”

 

Cul’Tai was shaking her head slowly, and no one moved as she drew her blaster. She stared at it as if it was something she had never seen before. Zinoa felt something, something she hadn’t for a long, long time. She started to hum a tune. All eyes turned to her, but then she was singing.

 

 

The tune was ancient, the words likewise, but the song was apparently fairly well known because by the time she started the verses a second time, three of the others were singing with her. She met Brianna’s eyes and the other woman was crying. Drawn by an impulse she couldn’t define, she rose from her chair and knelt in the middle of the circle. Then she changed tunes. This one had been popularized by a Bith band whose name translated as Atmospheric Logistics.

 

 

Her voice cracked about halfway through the tune, but she kept on singing. She was crying when she finished the piece and couldn’t move, couldn’t look up. She was sure she had horribly embarrassed herself, and maybe alienated… She was astounded when a pair of arms enfolded her. She looked up to see Brianna crying hard. Another set of arms encircled her and lekku stroked her head gently. Another set of human arms encircled her and then furry arms encircled them all. Zinoa tried to stop crying, but couldn’t, whatever was holding her wasn’t letting go. She started another tune, this one different. A Correllian band called of all things Adults Sans Headgear had popularized this one.

 

 

She was sure she had transgressed when the song ended and no one spoke. But then Cul’Tai laughed out loud. “You are crazy girl… I like you…” Zinoa could only shake her head as the others hugged her again.

 

Zinoa’s dry eyes met the Twi’lek’s. “Better?”

 

Cul’tai smiled widely. “Yes, thank you.” Zinoa felt something go snap inside herself and she felt… Whole, for the first time in a long, long time. People liked what she did. She did something she enjoyed and wasn’t berated or punished for it. “You have a powerful gift, girl.”

 

"Gift?" Zinoa sighed. “Not very Trandoshan-like, my ‘gift’.”

 

“Who cares?” The hard words came from Brianna who hugged the Trandoshan again. “You have a gift, a gift of music, one I can only envy.”

 

"Envy?" Zinoa shook her head. “Anyone can sing.”

 

"yes, anyone can." Brianna shook her head. “But you… You can make music. There is a massive difference.”

 

Zinoa shook her head slowly, but Sylvie’s voice had them all looking to where the Cathar sat back in her chair now. “You know, I think we can help each other, all of us. How many songs do you know, Zinoa?”

 

Zinoa stiffened. “I uh…well… I had to study in secret, I had to keep the others from finding out, or I got punished. Usually they just broke my arm, but once they ripped it off.”

 

"Huh?" Cul’tai stared at her. “They tore your arm off?”

 

"Yeah." Zinoa sighed and nodded. “I disobeyed an Elder and he got upset. It regrew…” She flexed her clawed fingers.

 

"Gah." Sylvie smiled a bit forlornly. “No one is going to do that here. But would you mind… singing for us, the ship I mean…? You have serious talent girl. And no one will rip your arm off if you say no.”

 

"Um...?" Zinoa snickered. “Not even a Wookiee?”

 

At that, a laugh circled the room. Sylvie was chuckling as she waved the others back to their chairs. “Not even Olana would do something like that. Come on, we have thirty minutes left to get through before the camera comes back on. But now, we have something to look forward to.”

 

Zinoa blushed as Cul’tai and Brianna helped her to her feet. Singing didn’t look like hard work, but it was. She was staggering as she resumed her seat and she had to take two bites of the worms to settle her stomach.

 

"Okay." Sylvie smiled and turned to the other occupant of the room. “Olee, how was your week?”

 

The other human looked from the Trandoshan to the Cathar and smiled. “Boring.”

 

"Good." Sylvie smiled widely. “That is what we like to hear…”

Edited September 27, 2012 by kalenath

<Some time later>

 

“I don’t know about this…” Stormhawk Two Sixteen as she reminded herself she was now, she tried never to call herself Zinoa at all, was nervous. Actually, she was more like terrified. Her companion smiled a bit sadly.

 

“You will do fine Two Sixteen.” Stormhawk One Eighteen, who was also known as Brianna, was sitting nearby with an unaccustomed smile on her face. The girl was still prone to moods, but, with the Trandoshan’s willing assistance, they had both improving daily. But now both were trying something a bit different.

 

The Trandoshan took a pair of deep steadying breaths, and then nodded to her companion. In unison, both stepped into a darkened room. As they had rehearsed, both took three steps and separated. Despite the very dim light, it was still easy for the lizard woman to find where she was going, a low podium. The others smiled at her as she passed and she smiled back. This would either be incredibly good or incredibly humiliating. She reached the podium and stepped onto it. Just as she stopped in front of the microphone, a bright light came on, dazzling her. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see One Eighteen standing ready in a spotlight of her own. She could barely see the theatre in front of her, but it looked packed. She looked to the side and nodded. The music they had rehearsed so much started.

 

It had taken some doing, but they had managed to put a decent band together. It was somewhat stereotypical, but a Bith was on the Loo horn. And Forty Seven, one of the engine techs, could make the thing wail like nobody’s business. A human whose number was Two Hundred Three was playing the drums. Nine was on the synthesizer, the Cathar had a huge grin on her face as she made it dance as she had once made her starfighter dance. Two Sixteen listened to the beat and as she waited for her cue, she remembered.

 

When Stormhawk Nine had proposed this crazy idea, the being formerly known as Zinoa had been dead set against it. When she sang, it was personal, for personal reasons. She was no holo-vid entertainer. She sang because she wanted to, because she could now and for no other reasons. But Nine had persisted. The Cathar had been kind, gentle and absolutely hell bent on getting this to happen. Zinoa had been adamant that she not do it, until One Eighteen had gotten in on it. The human girl had all the grace of a steamroller droid when she found something she enjoyed and what she enjoyed was this. The Trandoshan started off soft and the human moved in time with the music.

 

 

The music picked up the pace, the human girl started moving faster and the Trandoshan was smiling widely as she hit the refrain. Now she was dancing slightly, in time with the music. She could dance, but the moves that the human, who insisted that the Trandoshan call her Brianna in private, was nothing short of incredible. Trandoshan anatomy simply wouldn’t bend the ways that One Eighteen was contorting herself. It was carefree, for the first time in a long, long time, One Eighteen was free to be herself, and in such a setting as this. When the first piece finished, there was a long silence. For a moment, Zinoa felt fear again. But then the auditorium seemed to explode with the applause of at least a hundred beings of various kinds, all of them shouting approval. The Trandoshan turned to her dancer and smiled widely. The human smiled back. They both took a bow and set themselves again.

 

As prearranged, the Trandoshan gave the cue to start the next piece. This one was very different. She had actually picked it out herself from the mass of music that had suddenly appeared one day in her quarters. She had suspicions who had provided it, but no one would confess. The drums started rough and ready, then the synthesizer came in and right on cue, the Trandoshan came in, she felt rather than saw Brianna start her routine.

 

 

It was not a new song, this one, but it was still powerful. As she hit the refrain, she was started to hear voices join in from the crowd in front of her. But it worked, it sounded marvelous! She hit the final verse and now it seemed everyone was singing.

 

“We can’t afford to be innocent, stand up and face the enemy, it’s a do or die situation, we will be INVINCIBLE!’

 

If there was ever a song that called to her and the people that she called family now, this was it. They were all that each other had now. Some had kinfolk hidden away in an Enclave somewhere, but for most of them, this was it, this was all the family they would ever have. They knew in their hearts, each of them, that they were not invincible, this was no fairy tale, not work of fiction, but for just a moment, they could rise in unison, fist upraised. And she was amazed to see every single member of the audience on his, her, or its feet when she finished. All shouting. “More! More! More!”

 

The Trandoshan looked at her dancer, and the human girl nodded slightly. They had said two pieces, but the response they were getting was nothing short of exhilarating. They had been working on other pieces of course, the two of them. It had been mainly therapy for the two of them, at first anyway. Zinoa loved to sing and Brianna loved to dance. They had arguments of course, and even a couple of knockdown, drag out fights. Fights in which Zinoa had worked at being very careful not to hurt the human woman. Brianna was not a trained fighter, but she had such anger in her as Zinoa had rarely seen. She beckoned to her partner as she stepped away from the podium for a moment.

 

Her voice was low, to keep from catching the mike. “The March?” The human girl grinned widely, but then she frowned slightly.

 

“How is your voice?” One Eighteen seemed a bit concerned; the Trandoshan had been pushing herself to her limits.

 

Two Sixteen thought for a moment before smiling, her throat hurt, but it was manageable. “I have one more song in me. Are you good?” The human had been pushing herself past her body’s limits as well. The two nodded to each other and resumed their places. The crowd hushed into expectant stillness.

 

The Trandoshan spoke softly, but the acoustics of the room were good, even without the mike in front of her. “We will do one more piece. I am afraid that is all we are good for, but… if you all are nice to us; we might be persuaded to do this again.” A wide grin split her face as a chorus of cheers swept the auditorium. Now, the Trandoshan’s voice took on a solemn note. “This one I dedicate to all defenders, everywhere. All of those who put their lives and souls on the line to defend others, no matter their calling, creed, or caste. We call it ‘The March’. It is an ancient song, with ancient lyrics. Truth be told, I don’t know what a lot of the words mean myself, although I am trying to find out. I will let the tune speak for itself.”

 

She cast a clawed hand at the drummer who beat his deepest drum, a steady beat, a marching beat. Then the Loo horn came in, sounding deeper than usual, far away… Then the drums and horn were going together and it seemed to be coming closer. Then right on cue, she began.

 

‘Axes flash, broadswords swing, shining armor’s piercing ring...'

 

She hit the refrain and everyone was on their feet. ‘…How many of them can we make die?’

 

By the time she had tie she had reached the final verse, everyone was singing along with her. Then the music cut out and in the sudden silence, she sang alone.

 

‘Dawn has broke, the time has come, move your feet to a marching drum…’

 

She hit the refrain and she was amazed that the walls of the room didn’t explode outward from the sheer noise that resulted from a hundred beings singing it in unison, mostly anyway. Not that this tune needed voices to be in harmony, if anything, the discordance made it even more powerful. The final words were deafening, from so many throats.

 

‘…HOW MANY OF THEM CAN WE MAKE DIE!’

 

She finished the final refrain and bowed deeply. She turned to where One Eighteen stood and extended a clawed hand. The human came to her and they embraced, and then both of them left the stage to thunderous applause.

 

<A bit later>

 

The Trandoshan was exhausted. Fighting and running had never tired her out like this. She was actually a bit worried, but L’Trask was smiling as he refilled her water.

 

"it's okay." His voice was gentle, but held awe. “You used a bunch of muscles you don’t normally. Of course you are exhausted. That was incredible, the both of you. All of you…” He smiled to the group that sat around Two Eighteen’s quarters recovering from their exertions. The Bith nodded as he sipped his drink. The human who played the drum smiled as well as he massaged a sore arm. Nine was picking at a small dinner she had helped prepare after they had returned; none of them had the energy for anything more extravagant. And One Eighteen, was lying on the couch, her legs stretched out and a cold compress over her face as she dozed a bit. “That was… I don’t have the words, girl… I have seen many incredible things since I left Hsskor, but that…” He patted the younger Trandoshan’s shoulder gently. “That was absolutely amazing.”

 

Two Eighteen nodded slowly as she sipped, savoring the cool water. “I don’t know how often we can do that. But it was fun.”

 

“Yes it was.” Came the tired voice from the girl on the couch. “We rock!”

 

<An hour later>

 

Eventually, the group recovered enough to stagger off to their own quarters to get some much needed sleep. L’Trask remained however as his kin-lizard lay down on her bed. As soon as the others had left, he spoke quietly. <We have a problem, Zinoa’Trask.> His formal phrasing had her stiffening.

 

She stared at the being she still called uncle and nodded slowly. <The clan.> It wasn’t a question.

 

L’Trask nodded. <They know you are alive, and I am pretty sure they know you are here. I… um…correspond with a few of our kin on occasion. One of them told me to watch out, that you were marked for death as well as your sire and dame.>

 

Zinoa felt her guts freeze at that. Yes, her parents had shipped her off in disgrace, but they were her parents… <What can I do?>

 

L’Trask looked grim. <This is almost certainly a trap. For you, for me, for any of the crew they can snatch.>

 

Zinoa sighed deeply. <Then we had better make some plans.>

 

L’trask nodded. <Indeed.>

<The next day>

 

“No.” The word was actually kind and gentle, but the female Trandoshan show stood at attention in front of the desk shivered anyway. The armored form of Stormhawk Boss shook his head. “Out of the question.”

 

When Zinoa and L’Trask had worked out what to do, they had both known that this would be the hardest part of it. Boss was a hard man, a fair man and a man totally dedicated to his ship and crew. And now, one of his crew wanted to throw herself into the line of fire. While she tried to form a response, Two Sixteen let her eyes rove around the small office. But there was nothing to focus on, probably intentionally. There was no furniture in the office except the Boss’ desk with a terminal, two chairs in front of it, and a chair behind it where the armored form was sitting, even through the helmet, Boss was obviously staring at her in disbelief.

 

Boss spoke again. “Two Sixteen, I understand, better than you might believe; I understand what you feel right now. But you know it would be a trap.”

 

"I know." Two Sixteen nodded. “The part about my parents was a bit too much. While I do love them still, they…” She looked away for a moment. When she continued it was quiet. “They never loved me, I don’t think. At the very least, they never understood me. I never fit in, I never…” She was shivering hard now and she stiffened slightly as Boss stood up. “Boss… I…”

 

Boss came around the desk slowly and she was totally unprepared for the armored form to place his arms around her. But then she relaxed slightly into the embrace. She didn’t fully understand why the Stormhawk crew had taken her into their hearts, but they had. Boss gave her a squeeze and spoke softly. “We cannot lose you Two Sixteen. You are special. The boost in morale that you give us is only the smallest piece of why we like you.”

 

The response to the concert had been overwhelming. Everyone on this ship was apparently asking each other ‘When is the next one?’ But they didn’t press her. She had a job now, she was an assistant engine tech, and even if the Stormhawk’s systems were far more advanced than the engines she had worked on in her hunter cadre, an engine was an engine. She enjoyed the work, as hard and dirty as it was. It was something she could do, something she knew how to do. If there was one thing she had never minded, it was getting her claws dirty fixing something. Many beings, especially many Trandoshans, thought of maintenance as a black art. But an ounce of prevention saved a bucket of sweat. She tensed as she remembered who had told her that. Her dad. Boss squeezed her again and she relaxed a little.

 

"I..." Two Sixteen sighed. “Boss. I know it’s a trap. They want me dead, but they also will want information on this ship, and they all know how I felt about my parents. I don’t want to endanger the ship, but I am. The Trask fleet has left Hsskor. I don’t know why. They can’t find this ship, but they are obviously up to something. Knowing them, something bad for this ship and her crew. I may be your best means of finding out what.”

 

"Oh?" Boss gave her a small shake. “And you getting yourself killed will help us… How?”

 

"They wouldn't kill me." Two Sixteen shook her head. “Not immediately. They will want information on where I have been and what I have been doing. They cannot know for certain that I am here. And even if they do… Boss, we need to know what they are up to.”

 

"No." Boss shook his head. “Two Sixteen… If they take you, they will interrogate you and we may not be able to save you.”

 

"I know." The Trandoshan nodded. “But I can do this. You need information and I can get it for you. I know for a fact that the clan was ordered to find the pod that C’Trask had. Maybe they have more information on that.”

 

"I... I can't believe I am contemplating this..." Boss shook his head, but his posture was resigned as he let her go and stepped back. “You know how dangerous this will be. Can you do it? Act as you did once?”

 

The Trandoshan straightened herself up and snarled at him. “Try me.”

 

Boss turned to the door and it hissed open. The Trandoshan hadn’t thought she could get that stiff, but she managed as Will Kalenath walked in. His eyes were on her, but they were not the cold, dead orbs they had been. No, these eyes were alive, sad and tired and… She stared at him and then she nodded slowly. “They may have information on your daughter. I can get it.”

 

"Two Sixteen." Will shook his head slowly. “You have courage to spare. I am glad I didn’t shoot you.”

 

"Me too." Two Sixteen smiled a little. “But you are wrong about courage; I am scared out of my mind right now.”

 

"So?" Will nodded as he sat in one of the chairs. “True courage is being afraid and not letting it stop you. True courage is facing your fear and doing what needs to be done. But you have done enough. Let me handle this.”

 

Two Sixteen shook her head. “How many will you kill, Two? How many nestlings and breeders? How many?” Her voice was quiet but she didn’t take her eyes off of his.

 

"Ah girl..." The man who was one of the most wanted beings in the galaxy at the moment sighed and shook his head. “Two Sixteen, if you go, they will snatch you, interrogate you and then kill you. Which would be a massive waste of talent. Your singing is amazing.”

 

The Trandoshan sat abruptly in the other chair. Her legs suddenly didn’t seem to have the strength to hold her up. “You… You were there…?” She hadn’t seen him, but then again, she hadn’t seen much past the first three rows.

 

"I was." Will smiled, and his smile would not have been out of place on any Trandoshan face. “Sneaking around is what I do.” But then his smile gentled. "You are amazing. We don't want to lose you."

 

"I... am not sure how to take that, actually." The Trandoshan nodded slowly. “Do we know how they found out? Or what they know?”

 

"No." Will shook his head. “According to my ‘sources’ they don’t seem to know anything. Just that you vanished and were seen leaving Tattooine with L’Trask. That means they know you are here, or at least strongly suspect.”

 

The female in the chair shuddered. “Do I want to know how you got that information?” Will shook his head and she nodded. “So… Wait a moment…” She shook her head slowly as if contemplating something. “If they don’t know what has happened here, or why…?” Her eyes took on a speculative cast as she looked from Will to Boss who both recoiled a bit.

 

"No." Boss shook his head. “Not going to happen. You show your face out there and you are snatched. Don’t think I don’t know you that you tranked yourself before coming in here to stay calm.” The Trandoshan stiffened, she had been discrete.

 

“Boss… I…” She shook herself. “I can do this. I played the part for six years. I can play it now.”

 

Boss looked from the lizard woman to the quiet man sitting in the other chair. Will shrugged. When the soldier spoke, it was quiet, thoughtful. “We have hit a bit of a dead end with the shipping data. Amarath assures me that she can find out more, but it may take some time. We do need to keep tabs on what that clan is doing.”

 

"I..." Boss shook his head. “I do not like this.”

 

The woman in front of him nodded. “The needs of the many, Boss. I can do this.”

 

"You won't be going in alone." Will sighed. “Not a chance.”

 

The woman looked at him. “You show up and all hell is going to break loose.”

 

Will smiled darkly, and his expression gave her goosebumps. “Provided of course that they see me...”

 

<Three days later, on space platform near the world of Kuat>

 

Zinoa’Trask snarled as the droid brought her drink to her. And that was totally in character for her. She was wearing clothes that she had stolen, and carrying as much firepower as she could scrounge. She paid the droid and sat back watching the clientele of the cantina come and go. Most of them gave her a wide berth. Two of her people were sitting in a corner, but they were Holsk clan, a minor house that stayed out of the feuds of the larger ones. Comments that she had overheard said that they were muscle for a small time crime lord named Guvas, whoever the flarg that was. Not that it mattered. The two had taken one look at her and avoided all contact. The fact that she was wearing obviously scavenged armor and carrying a motley assortment of weapons wasn’t what had made them recoil however. It was the look on her scarred face.

 

L’Trask had offered to try and make cosmetic damage to her face, but she had declined. Anything too superficial would not be believable and would essentially be an instant death sentence. Instead, she had asked Will to hurt her, and the man had, reluctantly. A baton, a chair and other improvised weapons had made sufficient impacts and damage to her body to kill any being without a Trandoshan’s natural resilience and regenerative ability. The loss of an eye was bothersome, but it was totally believable. If she had been, as she had put in her communication, left for dead, then she truly had to look the part. Will, Boss and L’Trask had all promised to heal the damage. She had thought Brianna was going to attack Will on her own when the girl had first seen what he had done to the Trandoshan. And even after it had been explained to her, the human woman was still irate. Brianna ina rage was impressive to say the least…

 

A shadow fell over her and she looked up into cold orange eyes. The male Trandoshan looked her over. <Zinoa’trask.>

 

She met the gaze of the lizard evenly with her single eye. Her blaster was in hand under the table. Her voice was cool. <I don’t know you. Your markings are of Trask clan, but they can be faked.>

 

<Who would dare?> The lizard facing her stilled into immobility and all noise in the cantina stopped as his rifle rose a fraction of an inch at the insult. But then he snorted in laughter. <I am Juo’Trask.>

 

<Okay.> Zinoa smiled thinly, but her blaster didn’t move from its aim point. <Join me for a drink, then? Clan brother?>

 

Zuo’Trask shook his head. <No time sister, we have a meeting to attend.>

 

<No.> Zinoa shook her head slowly, never letting her eye drift from her enemy. <I just got my drink.>

 

The male lizard moved to sweep the drink off the table and Zinoa raised her hand. Her blaster was visible now and aimed. His rifle was out of position to shoot her. For a moment, nothing moved in the cantina. Then the male lizard hissed in approval. <Finish your drink.>

 

Without taking her eye off of him, she reached down, picked up her drink with her free hand and drained it in one gulp. Then she rose. <Where to?>

 

The male Trandoshan smiled. <After you, we go to a dump called the Spacer’s Rest. Our people have… commandeered it. You are late.>

 

<You try getting away from those people, ‘brother’…"She snapped. "...then talk to me about timetables.> Zinoa didn’t move from where she stood and the other lizard nodded in approval.

 

<Come then, sister, our hunt continues.> The other Trandoshan started off at a rapid pace, leaving Zinoa to follow as she could. She still hurt, but the pain was passing. And she could keep up easily, the crowd made way for the two armed Trandoshans. Unseen by any, a shadow moved in other shadows…

Edited September 27, 2012 by kalenath

Zinoa’Trask followed her guide, all of her senses on hyper alert. She was stumbling a bit, but her guide never let up the pace and she didn’t complain. A hunter either kept up or died when on the hunt, and she had always managed to keep up, even when she didn’t want to. And now, she really wanted to be anywhere but where she was going. They approached another cantina and her eye didn’t miss the several large shadows that watched them from areas around the entrance. At least three of the shadows carried heavy weapons and as she approached, she saw all were armored and ready for a fight. She felt a glimmer of fear wake in her belly, but she squashed it ruthlessly. Now was not the time.

 

Juo’Trask stopped at the entrance to the cantina and nodded to the door. She nodded to him as she stepped into the cantina. Her weaving was not an act; she was nowhere near healed from the punishment she had taken, both from Will and from an altercation while she had been in transit to the first cantina. Some beings simply had no sense at all. A Trandoshan, even an injured one, was more than a match for a pair of would be thieves no matter WHAT she looked like. As she stepped in, she stopped to let her eye adjust to the darker room.

 

It was standard spaceport cantina. If it was true to form, it had two main room and two storerooms behind the bar. She was standing in the entry hall, the smaller of the main rooms while her eyes adjusted and she took in the scene. The Spacer’s Rest had a long bar with a very scared looking human bartender serving drinks to a huge crowd of Trandoshans. It had several booths, most of them also with Trandoshans sitting, but instead of drinking, they seemed to be planning, checking weapons and armor, and generally looking like they were getting ready for something. As she entered, all of the Trandoshans turned to look at her and more than one raised weapons. She snarled at them, her hand on her blaster.

 

<What?> She asked caustically as she entered the main room. None of the weapons lowered and she snarled again but then everything stopped as a small gasp came from near the door.

 

<Zinoa…?> Zinoa spun, her hand on her blaster, but then it fell away as an older Trandoshan female came into her field of view slowly. <Zinoa… By the Scorekeeper, what happened to you?>

 

Zinoa’s voice was flat. <Krundra’trask. Mother.> The older Trandoshan recoiled a bit, and every single Trandoshan in the large room tensed. <You sent for me?> Her words were cold now. Her feelings on the being who had borne her into the world were mixed at best.

 

The female Trandoshan stared at her, shock all over her features. <I… Zinoa… I…>

 

Zinoa turned her back on her mother and walked to the bar. Amazingly the hard bitten, rough and ready crowd of lizards made way for her. She slapped a credchip on the bar and snarled at the barkeeper. <Juma. Now.>

 

It was an open question whether the barkeep understood Dosh, but he nodded slowly anyway. He poured her drink and stepped back. She sensed a presence behind her but she didn’t turn. Her hand was still on her blaster.

 

<Zinoa...?> Her mother’s voice was quiet. <What happened, Zinoa?>

 

Zinoa knocked her drink back in one gulp and slammed the glass back onto the bar. She spoke to the barkeep. <Another.> When he filled it, she took it in her hand and turned slowly to face her mother. When she spoke it was quiet and very, very angry. <What happened? Ask Grul. He is here, I know he is. I would recognize his stench anywhere.>

 

Krundra shook her head. <Zinoa...>

 

"Right.> Zinoa snorted. <Like he would not come to see his ‘protege’ get the snot kicked out of her, again? He enjoys causing and watching pain be administered. He sent us to die, and why? Because I wouldn’t sleep with him!> At that a stillness swept the room.

 

A voice came from a corner. <That is not true Zinoa’trask. You had a mission.> Zinoa fought to keep her face still as an elderly Tandoshan stood up from the booth. All of the warriors made way for him. He looked her up and down and his voice was quiet. <You failed.>

 

<You never told them, did you? All the methods you used? Did you?> Zinoa laughed at him and every lizard in the room stiffened. <Yeah, I failed. I wondered why you sent just the five of us after one of the most dangerous men in existence. You knew he had a companion. You knew we had no chance against the two of them, and when I called for help, you asked ‘Why?’> She shook her head slowly. <I wondered, at the time, and later. But it makes sense, we were not the actual kill team, we were bait. I have no problem being a pawn to catch a larger prey. What I do have a problem with is you and your son throwing us away so that he could make the kill.>

 

<Be silent, brat.> Grul’Trask snarled at her. <My son is dead. Thanks to you incompetence.>

 

Zinoa met his angry eyes with her single one and shook her head slowly. <My incompetence? Your son had the dubious honor of being the single worst hunter I have ever seen. Using sniper rifles? Poisons? Wht not explosives? Why not blow up the whole fracking station to kill one man? You and your 'family’ disgust me.> The word ‘family’ was in Basic and every Trandoshan in the room froze at the insult. Basically, she was calling an Elder a coward who hired his killing out to whoever charged the least amount of money. But she wasn’t done. <You are not a hunter, you are pathetic. You and everyone who follows you are idiots. You have no idea what you have done, what you are doing.>

 

<Oh?" Grul smiled thinly at her. <What have I done then, girl?>

 

<I had wondered. I think many of us have.> Zinoa sighed. <I wondered, at the time, why Will Kalenath didn’t kill us, why he went out of his way not to kill us.> A stir went around the room at that, but Zinoa didn’t take her eye off the Elder. <The Daask clan captured me, interrogated me and then took me to Tattooine and dropped me there. I met the one you fear there.>

 

"You are a fool.> Grul snorted. <I fear no one.>

 

Zinoa met his eyes and hers was so cold not that the Elder took a half step back. <Then it is you who is truly a fool. I have seen what waits for you and your followers in the shadows, and it scares me.> At that the whole bar went still again. For a Trandoshan to admit such a thing, in public…

 

<Zinoa...> Zinoa’s mother came closer. <Zinoa… stop… What are you doing…?>

 

<Stay where you are Krundra’Trask.> Grul’s words were cold. <This young one needs more discipline.> Zinoas guts seemed to freeze as he drew a shockstick from his belt. He took a step and stopped as Zinoa laughed. He snarled and started towards her again and then everything stopped as Zinoa drew a silver sphere from a pocket and it started to tick. The barkeep looked at it and bolted. No one gave chase.

 

<You can beat me, you can burn me, you can shoot me, you can cut me, you can shock me but for the sake of the Scorekeeper, stop boring me.> No one moved for a moment and Zinoa smiled widely. It was not a nice smile. <He never planned on me leaving this room alive, did he tell you that, ‘Mother’?> The word ‘Mother’ came out heated and Krundra stepped back a pace.

 

Krundra looked from the Trandoshan with the shockstick to the other with the ticking thermal detonator. <No.> Her voice was quiet.

 

Zinoa nodded slowly. <I bring you word from L’Trask.> At that name every Trandoshan in the room hissed. <Grul knew that Will Kalenath was sworn not to kill the clan. He knew that L’Trask had taken a vow from the human. I know this because L’Trask himself told me this.>

 

<You...> Grul’s face was a study now, rage, fear, loathing and disgust all warred. <You have consorted with a traitor.>

 

Zinoa snorted. <You are one to talk. How much money have the redblades given you for selling out your own people?> At that all of the soft activity in the room stopped again. The Sith had invaded Hsskor, the Trandoshan homeworld, had enslaved millions of Trandoshans. Money talked, and nerf osik walked, but…

 

Another voice came from the corner. <Zinoa… Turn it off.> Her eye went wide as her father stood, a blaster in hand pointed at her.

 

<Zab’Trask.> Zinoa sighed. <Well, everyone is here then. I might as well say this now. Will Kalenath has declared Vendetta against your clan. He was not serious before, now he is. How many kin have you lost in the last few months? Dozens? Hundreds?>

 

<Put it down, brat.> Grul shook his head. <You are not leaving here girl. Put the charge down and your end will be swift.>

 

Whatever he was expecting, he was not expecting Zinoa to laugh. <And I should trust you now? After all the times you have lied to me? Now you lie to save your own skin? I think not. You are a Hutt in a clever disguise Grul. At least they have a reason to smell as they do.>

 

<You wouldn't.> Grul’s voice was calm now. <You would destroy us? Your clan? Your parents?>

 

Zinoa looked at her mother and father, and then sighed. But when she spoke there was no give in it at all. <They may have brought me into the world, but then they gave me up, gladly. To you.> Her eye narrowed. <Did you tell them what you intended? No, no of course you did not. You are an Elder. Whatever you say goes. I have a question then, ‘Elder’. How in the name of the Scorekeeper did you survive so long being such a coward as to need your prisoners, even members of your own clan, bound and helpless before torturing them?>

 

At that, her mother and father both stilled. But Grul just shook his head. <It was for the Scorekeeper girl. Surrender. Now.>

 

Zinoa nodded slowly. <I see. You count your scores by how much pain you inflict on helpless beings. Well, I am not helpless now, Grul. Try and hurt me. Please.>

 

Krundra stared at her daughter and then, unaccountably, she slumped and turned away. Zinoa’s father stared from his mate to his daughter and his blaster fell to his side. He bowed his head and spoke quietly. <Do what you must daughter.>

 

Grul stared from Krundra to Zab and then back to Zinoa. <You traitorous witch. Shoot her!> No one moved. <Shoot her!> He shouted, but no one moved.

 

Zinoa smiled thinly. <I want to kill you, Grul’trask. For the years you spent torturing me, in the name of your faith. But I am not that merciful. I have stared into the green orbs of hell, and I know what awaits you. When you sent C’trask after Will Kalenath’s daughter, it was a mistake, one that has and will cost your clan dearly.>

 

Zab froze. <’Your’ clan…?> His voice was small.

 

Zinoa felt her heart fall into pieces all around her at her father's words, but she continued in that same soft, cold voice. <You and Mother didn’t want me. Grul brutalized me in the name of his faith. I will find my own way, without you.> Now she looked at the pack of lizards who were between her and the door. <Get out of my way.>

 

Grul was smiling now. <You will not make it out of here alive. As soon as you…> He froze as Zinoa laid the thermal detonator down on the bar. It continued to tick.

 

She met his eyes and her voice was cold. <This is set on a life sensor. If I die, it goes off.>

 

Grul smiled thinly. <Oh you won’t die, but you will pray for it, traitor. Stun her!> No one moved and he snarled louder. <Shoot…> He broke off as he realized that none of his people were staring at him, no they were staring behind him! He spun and what he saw made him soil himself. <You…> His voice was hushed as Will Kalenath stepped into the room over the bodies of several guards, a silenced slugthrower in one hand. The other clenched tight on a remote.

 

Will didn’t speak, just shook his head slightly and fired. His pistol mad a slight thumping noise, almost as loud as a foot fall, almost. The slug took the lizard between the eyes and he dropped without a sound. No amount of bodily regeneration would heal a metal projectile traveling though brain matter. When Will spoke, the meager warmth of the room fled from his words.

 

“Anyone who doesn’t want to get killed, better clear on out the front.”

 

Most of the Trandoshans moved. Courage was one thing, but facing such a foe when he was prepared and no one else was? That was suicidal. Finally, only two were left. Zab’Trask and Krundra’Trask stared from their daughter to Will.

 

Zab’s voice was soft when he spoke and it was in Basic. “I didn’t know. Oh Zinoa, I didn’t know…” Zinoa didn’t look at him; her gaze was on her mother who slumped. Zab stared at his mate and snarled in Dosh. <You… You gave her to him… knowing…?> He strode towards his mate, his claws clenching. <You….!> He grabbed the other Trandoshan by the throat and lifted her off the ground. He was much larger than she was, and probably could have killed her quickly, except his rage wouldn’t let him. He threw her across the room. She landed in a booth as just lay there, stunned by the quick turn of events. Zab turned to face Zinoa, his face a mask now. <Go. You will always be my daughter, Zinoa, no matter what you call yourself.>

 

"We are on short time." Will shook his head. “You should take your mate and go before the rest of the clan tries an assault.”

 

"You...?" Zab stared at Will as if seeing him for the first time. “You will help her? Not kill her?”

 

"No." Will smiled, and this time, it was kind. “She is a treasure Zab’Trask. No I won’t hurt her. And I will protect her as best I can.”

 

Zab’trask nodded. “Thank you.” Then he strode to where his mate was just now regaining her feet. He grabbed her again roughly and, ignoring her cries of pain, lifted her by the back of her neck and carried her from the cantina.

 

Will walked to where Zinoa was standing, stunned. He looked at the thermal detonator, blanched and grabbed it. It went silent and shook his head.

 

“Leave fighting to the fighters please, you very nearly ran the timer out.” Zinoa stared from the detonator to him and then she was crying. Will took her in a gentle embrace. “Come on, time to go…”

 

The first Trandoshans to approach the door did so slowly. Will had taught their clan caution in the past. They stacked up for an assault as they had been trained and entered with weapons ready, only to find nothing. Nothing except a ticking silver sphere on the bartop. Being not very stupid, they ran. They had all made it to cover outside when an explosion was heard and the cantina seemed to shudder before falling in on itself.

 

In an alleyway nearby, Zab’Trask kicked his mate again. “You arrogant little piece of poodoo!!>

 

Krundra’Trask tried to struggle, but the clawed foot that held her neck to the ground was strong. <You… Are now… Eldest…>

 

Zab shook his head. <I know. And my first order will be that you are no longer my mate.>

 

Krundra stared at him. <No…>

 

Zab snarled as he pressed harder on her neck. <Don’t think I don’t know how you manipulated this entire series of events. And all because your daughter could sing and you can’t…> He leaned down close now. <But don’t worry, I will take care of the clan.> He twisted his leg sharply and a dull snap was heard. Krundra shuddered and went limp. Zab’Trask shook himself. <I will take care of the clan…> He repeated quietly. <Even when they are idiots...>

Zinoa wasn’t crying. She had hadn’t allowed herself to cry on the trip back to Will’s ship. Now she was just tired, sick, sore and miserable. Gentle hands moved her to a chair and helped her sit, and then withdrew. She barely noticed when a steaming bowl was placed in front of her. She stared at it, and then looked up into concerned green eyes.

 

“Hey.” Will’s voice was different. She had never heard him talk like this before. It was almost as if… Her thoughts broke off abruptly as Will spoke again quietly. “You need to eat.”

 

“Not hungry.” Zinoa said quietly, pushing the bowl away. She started as Will sat down across from her, his face sad.

 

Will spoke softly. “I know what it is to be an outcast, Zinoa. I know what it is to be alone. You are not. You will not be, we will not abandon you. But you need nourishment so your body will regenerate.”

 

"I..." Zinoa looked at him, but wasn’t seeing him; her eye was unfocused, distant. “Maybe you should, abandon me that is. I am pathetic, weak, soft…”

 

"Yeah." Will smiled a little. “Don’t forget easily distracted. You very nearly killed us both with that detonator. You knew I was there. Why the hell did you do that?”

 

Zinoa flushed. “I…”

 

"Zinoa..." Will shook his head slowly. “You never planned on leaving, did you? Despite what we agreed on?”

 

Zinoa looked at the table she was sitting in front of. The common area of the small starship was spartan in the extreme. Lack of any identifying features made it impossible to tell who the occupant was, which was the whole point. The seat she was sitting in could double as a couch, or a bed, but right now, it was a chair. One she slumped into now. To make such a mistake, with ordnance no less…

 

"No." Her voice was low. “No, I messed up. I… I really thought I was over what my mother did to me, what Grul did to me. I…” She felt tears coming again and turned away. But then she stiffened as a weight sat on the seat beside her. She didn’t move as an arm encircled her shoulders. But then a hand started rubbing her back and her brave front collapsed. The floodgates opened and she was crying with her head pillowed on a strong shoulder. Her fear, shame and hurt cut deeper than any blade ever could. But the hands that held her were gentle.

 

Will’s voice was quiet. “It’s okay, Zinoa. My eyes are closed, I can’t see you. We are not in public. I understand your people well.” Then she stiffened as he spoke in Dosh. <Do as you must. But know this, I would welcome you as a daughter.>

 

<I…> It took a moment for the words to make their way through her skull, but then her eye went wide. <What did you say?> She asked in an awestruck voice.

 

Will continued in excellent Dosh. <You have done much for my clan, daughter of Trask. You have done great things; you have shown your courage, strength and skill. Your old clan may not see the strength in you, but I and mine do. You are a hunter without peer and your honor is unquestioned by any but fools. I and my clan have conferred, we would be honored to accept you into our hearts.>

 

<You...> Zinoa looked at the human face so close to hers now. His eyes were not cold, dark or tired now. Now they were filled with something she hadn’t seen in a long, long time. <You… You would adopt me…? Me…? An outcast whose sole skill is song?>

 

Will shook his head slowly. “That is not your only skill. You are a fully qualified hyperdrive technician. I have seen your work and it is excellent.” Zinoa shook her head slowly, to be given such a compliment now of all times… “This is hard for you, and will continue to be hard for you. Your former clan will not give up so easily. They will hunt you as strongly as or more so than they will hunt me. I merely shot an Elder.” Give that Elders in Trandoshan society were revered beyond all other figures, well… It was doubtful that the Trask clan could hate Will any more than they had anyway, but… He had made quite a mess.

 

"I know." Zinoa had to smile at the wry tone. Yes he had. Then she sobered. “I challenge their beliefs, their way of life. They cannot let me live, not having embarrassed them so strongly.”

 

Will nodded slowly. But when he spoke, it was in Dosh. <You do not need to answer now; you do not need to answer at all. But I would be honored to call you daughter. We would be honored.>

 

<I don't understand.> Zinoa felt faint. She shook her head slowly. When she spoke it was in Basic. “You would open your heart and home to a weak, pathetic coward?”

 

Will shook his head. “No, I would open my heart and home to you, Zinoa. You are not weak, you are not pathetic, and the fear you feel is something I know very well.” His voice held something now, something tantalizingly hard to understand.

 

Zinoa stared at the older human, her face working. “You…” But then she nodded slowly. “You are not a fool, you know what you face.”

 

Will smiled sadly. “I promised the being who sired you that I would take care of you, and I will. I keep my word. But just taking care of you isn’t enough. I want to see you happy. I want to see you smile.”

 

Zinoa was shaking her head. “Will… What you are offering me… I… I am unworthy…” Suddenly her cheek stung and she stared at Will, whose face had turned cold and hard. Almost Trandoshan-like in appearance.

 

<Stop that.> Will’s voice was cold now. <No one insults the being known as Zinoa in my presence. Do I make myself clear?>

 

Zinoa stared at him, her mouth agape. And then she rose slowly to her feet. Will let her go. She knelt slowly on the floor and put her head under his hand. Her voice was quiet and she spoke in Basic. “You would give me more than I would ever have asked for. I feel unworthy, inadequate. I am not a good being, Will Kalenath.”

 

The hand touched her scalp gently. <Neither am I, Zinoa’Trask Kalenath. Let the galaxy tremble, my daughter. If anyone harms you ever again, they will answer… to me.> The cold of space itself rang in his tine, but far from frightened, Zinoa felt uplifted by his words.

 

“F…Father…” Zinao broke down again and this time the gentle hands lifted her to her feet and held her as she sobbed. And this time, it wasn’t bad; family could see a Trandoshan cry.

 

<Eight hours later>

 

Zinoa was asleep. It had taken most of the trip back to rendezvous with the Stormhawk to get her to sleep, but now she was. In sleep, her face relaxed from its habitual frown and fearful look. Will sat by her bedside in Medical, his face sad. Her face was covered by bandages, her regeneration was working overtime, so the medics had several IV lines running to keep the girl hydrated and fed while she slept. He hated himself far more than anyone else could for hurting her so badly, especially now. The small room hummed with low noise of medical gear and monitors beeped as they did what they did, but Will didn’t see or hear any of that. All of his focus was on the sorely hurt girl in front of him. Her physical injuries were the least of her problems. A quiet voice came from the door. He looked up and smiled.

 

“Will?” L’Trask stood in the doorway, his face worried. He relaxed a bit as Will smiled at him, but then the human’s gaze went back to the slumbering form.

 

“Come on in, doc. I am expecting Boss in a few minutes too.” Will’s voice was low, so as not to awaken the sleeping lizard woman. Zinoa was very weak still.

 

L’trask entered the room and sat in another chair near the door. A few minutes later the armored form of Stormhawk Boss entered the room and closed the door. Boss nodded to the others as he stood in front of the door.

 

“What happened Will? " Boss asked. "Your after action report was vague, even for you.”

 

"Well..." Will glanced at the camera and the spoke softly. “Zab’trask now leads the clan.” L’trask stiffened and likely would have cursed aloud, except Will glared at him and then returned his gaze to the girl.

 

"Aw nuts..." Boss shook his head. His voice was quiet. “Aw, man… Will, you didn’t…”

 

"Plan went awry." Will spoke just was quietly. “I didn’t have a choice. Grul’trask was there.”

 

L’trask stiffened and Boss leaned forward. The armored form’s voice was intent. “You killed him?”

 

"Yeah." Will smiled a bit sadly. “It’s not like they could hate me any more than they already do.”

 

L’trask shook his head. “Much as I detest the thought of any more of my clan falling to you… He deserved it if anyone did. But I thought this was just an intel mission?”

 

"That was the plan." Will nodded. “It was, things changed. None of us expected Grul to be there, and when he showed up, it all went to hell. They were going to kill her. So she activated a backup she must have borrowed from one of my arms lockers.” He froze as Zinoa spoke.

 

The Trandoshan’s voice was slurred with drugs and sleep but it was understandable. “I am sorry about that Father…”

 

Both Boss and L’Trask froze solid at Zinoa’s words, but then L’trask smiled. “You said yes, Zinoa?”

 

Zinoa looked at him. “Yes, he has given this honorless one a place. He has given me a chance to redeem my Jagganath. He has…” She slumped and Will put a hand on her arm.

 

"It’s okay, Zinoa." His voice was quiet. “I want you to meet two people.” He hit his remote and the camera over the door went dark and silent.

 

L’Trask walked slowly to the bed and sat down beside it. He took her clawed hand in his and gave a squeeze. “Zinoa, I am L’trask Kalenath.” Zinoa stared at him, dumbfounded. “He gave me a place in his family, years ago. Welcome home, daughter.”

 

Zinoa was shaking her head as Boss came to her bedside as well, but then she stiffened as Boss removed his helmet and the face inside wasn’t at all what she expected. The female human smiled at her. “I am Hala Shinn Kalenath, he gave me a family again as well. Welcome home, sister.”

 

Zinoa was crying again as the armored form took her other hand in a gentle grip and gave a squeeze. Hala Shin AKA Stormhawk Boss smiled sadly. “We are all that we have, but while we stand, no one will harm you, ever again.”

 

Zinoa bit out words. “I… No… I… I am unworthy…”

 

Will sighed and then reached out quick as the tongue a dune lizard and slapped her lightly on an unbandaged part of her arm. “Stop that, daughter. What did I tell you about insulting yourself?”

 

Zinoa surprised herself with a laugh. “Please don’t beat me Father…” Her voice was humorous rather than fearful and the small strange family embraced again.

Zinoa relaxed in her chair as she finished her dinner. It was amazing how little had changed, but then, everything had. Her quarters were different now, a small compartment to herself as opposed to a shared dormitory with other crew. Of course the Stormhawk did not lack for space, but it still felt wrong for here to be in a room alone when regular crewmembers shared bunk spaces. Of course, she wasn’t a regular crewmember now, even if she wouldn’t discuss the actual facts with anyone, she was not alone anymore. She looked at the pair of mismatched beings who shared the table with her and frowned a little.

 

“…So the Trask clan had no idea where the pod was going either?” L’Trask, he still used that name for very good reasons –it was safer-, picked at his meal with a worried look.

 

Will sighed as he finished his plate quickly and efficiently. He was constantly surprising Zinoa, his cooking, while not five star quality, was not bad at all. She could get used to this. But he was talking. “Yeah. The Sith that sent the pod off was either a genius or certifiably insane, maybe both. “

 

Zinoa thought about that before speaking up shyly. It was hard for her to equate the kind, gentle human who sat across from her with the cold blooded killer who had stepped over four corpses to kill the elder who had tortured her for so long.

 

“Hmmm… Stasis pods are not small, and not easy to hide, the sensor images are distinctive….” She broke off as the other two looked at her and she looked hastily away. Who was she to interrupt these two?

 

L’trask spoke up. “Zinoa, relax. It will take some getting used to. I still have some misgivings at times, and I have been part of the family for almost… what is it now, Will?”

 

“You think you have misgivings?" Will asked with a grin. "How do you think I feel? Sometimes I wonder if I did go nuts ten years ago when I met you.” His tone was blatantly humorous and against her will, Zinoa snickered. She flushed a bit, but neither of the men acknowledged her embarrassment, so she relaxed. “What are your thoughts, Zinoa?”

 

"Hmmm..." Zinoa nodded slowly. “Stasis pods are rare and expensive. It would be noticed. So… Either it has to be camouflaged somehow, or…” She thought hard for a moment. “You say it started on Bothawui?”

 

"Yeah." Will nodded slowly. “But an agent named Vorren had no idea at all what was going on, that was clear when I faced him. So…” He blew out a breath. “Ravishaw’s apprentices were there. Information I recovered later said that he had three. Now he has one, and she is a mess.” He grinned viciously.

 

"Yuck." Zinoa shook her head slowly. “So… This Ravishaw is trying to lure you into a trap? That sounds… remarkably stupid of him.”

 

"He did." Will nodded, but his gaze was pensive. “He brought friends, luckily for me; I had called some rather odd allies of my own. He had an army with him. Ah well… back to the hunt then.”

 

"Okay." Zinoa blinked slowly. Her new eye itched, but she ignored it. Regeneration was never a fun thing. At least she wasn’t in pain anymore, not that L’trask would let her be. Her voice was quiet. “How can I help?”

 

Will looked at L’trask and shook his head. But there was no condemnation in his voice when he spoke. “Zinoa…” he sighed. “You are not a hunter, no matter what they tried to make you. You are not a killer, although you have. You are not like me, may the Force forbid you ever becoming like me.”

 

"I know, but..." Zinoa shook her head stubbornly. “I want to help. When you adopted me, Nia became my sister, and I want to help.” Now that she had a family that appreciated her for what she was, she didn’t want to lose any of it. She had never met Nia, but what she had heard, she liked. She paused, thinking. “Wait a moment… You said there were beings in the pod…?”

 

"Yes." Will sighed. “ Six small Twi’lek children. Probably a slaver operation… But It doesn’t make any sense. The pod wasn’t touched in transit as far as I could determine.” He broke off as Zinoa froze. “What?”

 

"I..." Zinoa’s voice was soft. “I heard someone in my old clan say that C’trask had more than one stasis pod on his ship. I know he dealt in slaves as well as bounty hunting. If that was the case… Was there any others there when you found his ship?”

 

Will stared at her. “Flarg me… No. The cargo bay was empty.” He was shaking his head. “A decoy. Son of a barve!” He was on his feet and pacing now. Zinoa recoiled slightly, but L’trask shook his head slightly and she relaxed. Will wasn’t mad at her. “I chased that stang thing all over the galaxy, and it was the wrong one…”

 

"So..." Zinoa spoke softly, almost afraid to draw his attention. “This Sith knew you were chasing him?” It wasn’t really a question, more rhetorical, but Will nodded anyway. Zinoa continued, thoughtful. “So it makes sense. Send one off visibly, and the other…”

 

"Right." Will nodded slowly. “The other goes slowly, another direction…” He looked as if he were going to hit the wall with his fist for a moment, but then visibly restrained himself. He shook himself, sighed and turned to face her, a smile on his face. “Thank you Zinoa, you just helped, a lot.”

 

The Trandoshan smiled as she relaxed. “I am glad… I…” She yawned. “Oh dear…”

 

Will and L’trask smiled at her. L’trask spoke. “Zinoa, you need more sleep to recover. You are not fully recovered yet, and if you really do want to do another concert tomorrow…”

 

Zinoa nodded, but when she tried to rise, she couldn’t. She was too weary. She snorted. “I can sleep here…” She slumped in the chair. It was actually fairly comfortable.

 

"Zinoa..." Will sighed, and his tone held exasperation now. “You will be more comfortable in the bed, and the doc needs to have his wicked way with you still.” L’trask made a rude gesture in Will’s direction, but the soldier just smiled.

 

Zinoa shook her head, and then with the help of both of the men, stood up slowly. She was very unsteady on her feet as she was led to her bed. Luckily it was only a few steps. Gentle hands helped her into the bed and she lay quiet as L’trask connected IV lines that he had disconnected so she could eat dinner. Her room had a bunch of medical gear in it, since her injuries had taxed her body’s regenerative ability to its limits. Will did nothing halfway, and when one was trying to infiltrate a Trandoshan clan, one either played the part to the hilt or one died. Zinoa had actually had to force the man to hurt her, but once he had resigned himself to it, he had done as she wished. She hadn’t expected the eye, but that had been the clincher for the clan, no infiltrator would maim herself just to get in the door. She was drifting as the medication in the IVs started working its magic again.

 

"Father?" Her voice was low and slurred as she drifted off. “Will you be at the concert tomorrow?”

 

Will’s voice was gentle as a hand caressed her forehead. “You better believe it. Then I hunt.” She was smiling as she drifted off.

 

<The next day>

 

It was a repeat of the previous performances. The hall was packed, the crowd appreciative. But now, everything was different even though Zinoa tried to act as if nothing was. She started soft as always.

 

‘I can read your mind and I know your story, I see what you're going through. It's an uphill climb, and I'm feeling sorry. But I know it will come to you…’

 

As always when she finished the song, there was a pause before the applause started. Then she started her second number.

 

 

By the time she was on the final verse, many of the crowd were singing along with the catchy little tune. She smiled widely, but then she nodded to Nine, who smiled and nodded back. Zinoa stepped up to her mike again and spoke softly, but the sound was sent clearly out around the auditorium.

 

“I found another ancient song that I want to dedicate to a friend. A man who has been very special to many of us.” She looked to the rear of the auditorium and saw a pair of green eyes looking at her. She smiled again. Brianna pulled a small flute out of a pocket and Nine produces a guitar of all things. That had surprised Zinoa, that Nine could play that too, but then again, it was all about manual dexterity wasn’t it? Just like flying had been. Brianna started it off, Nine joined in and then Zinoa started singing, her eyes on where Will was sitting.

 

‘Listen, children, to a story

That was written long ago,

'Bout a kingdom on a mountain

And the valley-folk below.

 

On the mountain was a treasure

Buried deep beneath the stone,

And the valley-people swore

They'd have it for their very own.

 

Go ahead and hate your neighbor,

Go ahead and cheat a friend.

Do it in the name of Heaven,

You can justify it in the end.

There won't be any trumpets blowing

Come the judgement day,

On the bloody morning after....

One tin soldier rides away.

 

So the people of the valley

Sent a message up the hill,

Asking for the buried treasure,

Tons of gold for which they'd kill.

 

Came an answer from the kingdom,

"With our brothers we will share

All the secrets of our mountain,

All the riches buried there."

 

Go ahead and hate your neighbor,

Go ahead and cheat a friend.

Do it in the name of Heaven,

You can justify it in the end.

There won't be any trumpets blowing

Come the judgement day,

On the bloody morning after....

One tin soldier rides away.

 

Now the valley cried with anger,

"Mount your horses! Draw your sword!"

And they killed the mountain-people,

So they won their just reward.

 

Now they stood beside the treasure,

On the mountain, dark and red.

Turned the stone and looked beneath it...

"Peace on Earth" was all it said.

 

Go ahead and hate your neighbor,

Go ahead and cheat a friend.

Do it in the name of Heaven,

You can justify it in the end.

There won't be any trumpets blowing

Come the judgement day,

On the bloody morning after....

One tin soldier rides away.

 

Go ahead and hate your neighbor,

Go ahead and cheat a friend.

Do it in the name of Heaven,

You can justify it in the end.

There won't be any trumpets blowing

Come the judgement day,

On the bloody morning after....

One tin soldier rides away.’

 

The auditorium was so quite a pin falling would have made an incredible noise when she finished. She bowed to the crowd and then hurried off the stage, her compatriots following her. As soon as she was beyond public view, the tears started falling. Brianna and Nine were crying as well, and the Bith, well, he looked stunned. She was trying to reach her quarters when a shadow stepped out of the shadows. Will was… Zinoa stared at the man she knew as a merciless killer. He was crying.

 

"Oh Zinoa..." His voice was husky when he spoke. “My dad loved that song, Zinoa…I… I had forgotten it. Thank you, Zinoa…” He embraced her and she returned the embrace. And for just a moment, the universe and all its problems could go hang.

 

((It has been put to my attention that I may be violating copyright issues here, so... For those who may not know, NONE of these songs are my own work. Kudos to anyone who got them all before I put them up. They are in order:

 

 

Simple Gifts by Elder Joseph Bracket 1848

Making Live out of Nothing at All by Air Supply

Safety Dance by Men Without Hats

What a Feeling by Irene Cara

Invincible by Pat Benatar

The March of Cambreath by Heather Alexander

That's the Way it is by Celine Dion

Somebody to Love by Queen

One Tin Soldier by The Original Caste

 

That satisfies copyright law I think. I hope so anyway... ))

<Some time later, at an Imperial Intelligence base, location classified>

 

 

Musano Vorren was tired. It had been a long day. Unfortunately, it had also been a fruitless one. There were days when being a Cipher, one of the top level field agents of Imperial Intelligence was exciting, stimulating or at least interesting. But lately, all of his work seemed to be focused on how boring a job could get. He had actually caught himself imagining what his droid assistant would look like with a few holes through the cranial processor a few times today. If that droid told him one more time to redo another piece of Force be damned paperwork, he swore that the thing would wind up in pieces. He shook his head slowly and sighed as he finished clearing his desk. All he seemed to do these days was deskwork, all it seemed he was good for. He slumped for just a moment. He lived for fieldwork, and now he was running teams of agents, decent agents for the most part too, but it just wasn’t the same. He shook his head slightly as he stretched.

 

The hunt for Setsuna Andal was not going well. The girl had simply disappeared. Bad enough that she had escaped from the Bladeborn, not an easy thing to do at the best of times, but what was worse was that she had left exactly five known traces of herself, all on Coruscant. She had been involved somehow in some kind of ruckus, and then Istara, Sharlina, or whatever she was calling herself this week, had been there as well, and Vorren had followed, hoping. Istara had been involved in something that even now had the agent smiling slightly. It wasn’t every day that a Bladeborn called the police to arrest a bounty hunter after all. He really wished he could have seen the look on the guy’s face, even if the scum, one Kunda Gev, had escaped custody and was now on the loose, it had to have stung the guy. Then his expression smoothed into its habitual mask as he entered the public areas. It wouldn’t do for a high ranking agent not to be in control. Even when all he really wanted to do was to scream his frustration at the top of his lungs.

 

This was not what he was trained for. This was not what he was good at. He was an infiltrator, a saboteur, and he was one of the Empire’s secret weapons against any and all who would harm the Empire or its citizens. He could and did do investigations as a matter of course, but this nitpicking need to scan every single document for traces was really beginning to wear him down.

 

Setsuna Andal had made quite a habit of escaping from things that people said were inescapable. For instance, she had escaped Korriban after the death of her mother. She had apparently been on Drummond Kaas at one point and a prisoner there. She had escaped that, and he could only admire anyone who could manage that. Part of him admired the girl’s sheer ability to vanish and part of him detested the girl. All records of her said that while she was powerful, she was also naïve and weak willed. Either of those would normally merit a painful death among the Sith. But according to what the Bladeborn had told him, she also possessed a power that was to be feared by any in the galaxy. Force Resuscitation was not common, thank the Force. But the ability to kill undetectably, or messily as the situation warranted it, that was something to be reckoned with. Add to that the ‘other’ ability she apparently had, his data was even sketchier about that. The Bladeborn were remarkably tight-lipped about a number of things and they had flatly refused to discuss that.

 

Technically, he could have ordered them to produce the information, but that likely would have started a fight that no one would have won. So he was stuck with surmises and guesses, most of which were not good. And now he was so tired, he was second guessing himself. He checked his airspeeder for bugs and traps as a matter of course. He found three bugs and a trap so crude it had to be a student’s work. Or maybe it was someone pretending to be a student? Or maybe…? He shook himself again and threw all the devices into a convenient bin. A loud thump came from the bin as the trap detonated, it echoed through the landing bay but no heads turned. No one was dumb enough to look. Vorren started up his speeder and keyed his com alive.

 

“Security.” Came the voice of the guard at the gate.

 

Vorren nodded towards the nearest video camera. He couldn’t see it, but he knew where it was. “Cipher Vorren, clear for the day.”

 

"Yes sir." The voice of the security trooper was respectful. Vorren was well known and as liked as a high ranking agent could be. He was hard, yes, but he was fair and was willing to admit his mistakes. “You are clear to the gate sir. Um, sir, we registered a class one blast near your position?”

 

"Yeah." Vorren snorted as he lifted off and then landed near the security gate. “An infantile trap. Have we had any students through today?”

 

"Yes sir." The guard sighed. “We have been defusing the things as we find them.”

 

"You know..." Vorren thought about that for a moment. Then he grinned. “Actually, just clear your areas, and any public ones. Anyone stupid enough not to check for such lousy excuses for traps deserves to get blasted.”

 

"Yes sir." The trooper had a grin in his voice when he replied. “Will there be anything else?”

 

Vorren sighed. “Ah, the gate? I would rather not have to explain to Procurement how I have to get a new one. It won’t be the first time I have had to blow my way out of my own base. But it makes such a mess.” His voice held humor, but at the same time, held menace and a command.

 

The trooper spoke so fast his words stumbled. “Yes, sir, sorry, sir, at once, sir…” The gate that barred the way into the base opened and the trooper spoke again, professional. “I accept full…”

 

Vorren sighed. “Shut it, soldier. It’s been a long day and I am snappy. Just don’t let it happen again. And for the sake of the Force, don’t deviate from protocol if we have guests. Clear?”

 

The security trooper was obviously standing at attention from his voice. “Yes, sir. Sorry sir.”

 

Vorren was sighing as he flew his speeder out into the night air. It was a sad state of affairs when he had to get his enjoyment as a Sith might, by scaring his underlings. He really needed a shower and he was really hoping to get some real sleep for a change. He keyed his secure com and waited. A few moments later it lit up and the tiny screen held the face he dearly wanted to see up close and personal.

 

“Lorna. I am on my way home.” His voice was warmer than normal, but his wife had that effect on him.

 

“We will be ready.” She smiled at him, but his mind was racing. ‘We’? The kids would be long asleep by now, or they had better be. Discipline in his household was strict but fair.

 

“Do we have a visitor?” He asked carefully, he reached for his alarm button, but stopped as Lorna nodded.

 

“We do, and you need to talk to him.” Her voice was not as controlled as it might have been and hit held something he hadn’t heard recently. Worry.

 

Vorren felt his guts clench. “Lorna, are you in danger?” He had his hand on the alarm button now and he increased his speed towards where his family lived.

 

“Not from him. Get home soon.” She cut the connection and he stared at it.

 

He probably set a record for least time travel between the base and his home. He landed in the garage and stepped from his speeder slowly, blaster in hand. Lorna was a former II agent, before she and Musano had met and fallen for each other. She had decided to raise children instead of continuing field work and he approved. He cared for her, deeply. And anyone who would threaten her… He entered the living area of their house and stopped at the threshold. Lorna was sitting on the couch with a glass in hand, and sitting across from her with a smile on his face was… Vorren was sure his jaw made a very loud sound as it fell off the front of his face and clattered to the floor.

 

Will Kalenath grinned and spoke softly. “I wish I had a camera Vorren, this is one of those moments you really wish you could remember forever.” He didn’t have a weapon out, and Lorna was… relaxed. Not scared, not worried even with the kids in the house. By all rights, she should have been. She was sitting with one of the greatest enemies that the Empire had and she was relaxed, sipping her tea.

 

Musano Vorren was always in control. He was one of those people who had to be all the time. But suddenly, he was scared out of his mind. “What. The. Hell?” His blaster was still out and Will didn’t move, didn’t seem worried. And that worried Musano Vorren, a lot.

 

"Honey." Lorna spoke softly. “Please, listen to him.”

 

"Okay." Vorren sighed. “Make it fast. We have about ten minutes before the reaction team gets here.”

 

"Right." Will nodded. “I need your help.”

For along moment, Commander Musano Vorren, Imperial Cipher agent, couldn’t believe his ears. Then he snorted derisively. “You want my help? You come here, your very presence threatening my family of all things and you want my help?” His voice was angry now.

 

"Look, I am sorry for just popping in like this." Will shook his head slowly. “To clarify: I don’t want your help, I need your help. For what it is worth, Vorren, I am sorry for what I did on Korriban. I was under orders.”

 

"Orders?" Vorren snarled at him. “You very nearly got my family ‘disciplined’ for what you did. They would have been killed, slowly. You know this. Messing with me, I can accept, but you endangered my kids.”

 

Will nodded. “I know.” He sighed. “I didn’t have a choice at the time; the higher level Sith were becoming suspicious. The information I could give out was petering out fast. I have done bad things in my life, Vorren, but lying to you and to you, ma’am…” He nodded to Lorna who looked sad now. “That hurt, a lot.”

 

"Bastard!" Vorren snarled again. “Lorna, get the kids and get out of here…”

 

Lorna shook her head slowly. “Musano, listen to him, please. The kids are safe; they are spending the night at the school tonight, an overnight training session. He picked a good night to come.”

 

Vorren sighed in relief, he had forgotten. He did that a lot with his kids. There was so much to remember… But then he tensed. “What…? You planned this?” He asked quietly.

 

"Not all of it, no." Will nodded slowly. “I had to apologize, to both of you. If you want to shoot me or arrest me Vorren, go right ahead. I endangered your family. I know how I would and have reacted in the past. But before you do… Lorna…?”

 

Part of Musnao Vorren’s attention was on his wife as she moved slowly, but most of it was on Will who didn’t move as Lorna pulled box out from under the coffee table in front of her. She opened it and Vorren’s eyes went wide as he saw what was inside it. Vorren’s arm dropped and he stared at the Sith holocron that was nestled inside.

 

"You..." Vorren’s words were stunned, jerky. “On Jodaka... You said you destroyed it… You told me…”

 

"I lied." Will looked pensive. “That was more for the security listeners than for you, and for what it is worth, I am sorry. The rest of what I stole from your people is in a cargo pod at the spaceport right now. Bay eighteen, dock ninety seven. The pod is marked for your attention and is trapped with two plasma grenades with pressure triggers.”

 

"Um..." Vorren stared at the last known intact holocron made by Marka Ragnos and then tore his eyes away to look at Will. “You cannot just give the stuff back and expect a full pardon…”

 

"No I don't." Will shook his head. “I am giving the stuff back to get your attention.”

 

"All of that...?" Vorren stared at him and then smiled a bit wryly. “You have it…”

 

Lorna looked at him. “The reaction team?” Her voice was worried.

 

Vorren snorted. “Ask Will.”

 

Will grinned. “Nice bluff Vorren. You almost had me going there for a moment.” Both of the men grinned at Lorna’s expression. “Yeah, like he would call for help when his family might be in the line of fire? He was going to get more information and then call for help, or…”

 

Vorren smiled, always fun working with a fellow professional, even if Will was technically on the other side. He holstered his blaster and hit a button on his comlink. “The unscheduled drill I just had them run was good for them, probably.”

 

Lorna stared from one to the other. “You two… Sheesh. You deserve each other. Ah, Will, I have missed you. I have heard that Sharra is alive, is she… Uh…” She broke off, unsure.

 

"Yeah." Will sighed. “She is alive, but she was captured by Ravishaw and his people.” Both Lorna and Musano hissed at that name. “She is on the mend, but won’t be in the field again for a while.”

 

Musano sat down slowly, but kept his hand free to draw, just in case. Yes, Will was being friendly now, but… “Is she really expecting? The Bladeborn have been… frustratingly vague on many topics recently.”

 

"Yeah." Will nodded with a smile on his face. “She is. I don’t know how Ravishaw got my DNA, but somehow he managed to mix hers and mine and impregnate her with it.”

 

"Ah..." Lorna grimaced. “Are you sure it is yours?”

 

"Yeah." Will nodded. “Every doc I have gone to, even a Jedi healer have said the same thing. It’s mine. And it was intended as a trap for me. Musano… I met Ravishaw’s master on Shili.” Will shuddered a bit.

 

"His..." The Cipher agent stilled. “Holy frak, man… Then you are the only being I have ever heard of who hasn’t met that thing and been corrupted by him.”

 

"He underestimated me. Won't likely happen again." Will snorted. “I was moderately corrupt to begin with. And that was his mistake, he assumed I was a good guy, he tried to appeal to my noble and self sacrificing side.” Both Vorren and Lorna snorted at that. Nice Will Kalenath might be at times. A good guy? Not hardly. Now Will grimaced. “I was tracking the pod and he laid a sweet trap for me. I… The pod didn’t have Nia in it.”

 

"Look...I know she is your daughter." Vorren sighed. “I am sorry, Will. If I find her…”

 

"I know." Will nodded. “You have to obey orders and turn her over to the Council for interrogation and/or turning. Which is why I am here. I know where it went. It was shipped via slow transit to a fleet commanded by a Council member named Darmuk. The company responsible wrote off the transport when it didn’t come back.”

 

"Darmuk?" Vorren went stiff. “It did? He didn’t report that. He should have, it would be kind of important to the Empire as a whole. If you declare war on us, um…”

 

Messy didn’t begin to describe that. Not even close. The Empire was vast, yes, but Will was the kind of enemy that Vorren absolutely dreaded. One who knew the Empire’s strengths and weaknesses well and knew how to use them both to his best advantage. Add to that the fact that Will had access to weapons of mass destruction and the willingness to use them… He was debating the wisdom of drawing his gun and trying for a quick kill when Lorna sighed.

 

“Musano, don’t… You know what he does. You know how he plans.” Her voice was quiet, controlled. Suddenly, Vorren felt an icy pang. Why would she be calm when a man she knew was a killer was sitting across from her?

 

“What have you done to her?” He asked quietly, keeping his hands in plain sight.

 

"I didn't want to." Will sighed. “That is some hellfire you married Vorren. I always thought she could give Sharra a run for her money. I sedated her, no more. I don’t want to hurt either of you. The two of you were the only decent Imperials I have ever met.”

 

"Musano." Lorna’s voice was low. “He drugged me. I can’t move my legs.”

 

Vorren snarled but didn't move. “You son of a barve! You would attack my wife of all people? After what she did for Sharra?”

 

Sharra Kalenath had been an emotional wreck when Will had come to Korriban in his faked defection. Vorren had heard, from Lorna, about the bombing on Correllia. Lorna had taken the other woman in, given her stability and peace of sorts to begin recovery. The woman had been on the verge of recovery when Will had fled the planet with a cargo hold full of treasures due in no small part to Lorna.

 

"No." Lorna shook her head. “He didn’t hurt me, Musano. The drug was my idea, a calming agent. I… I know how you feel. It wasn’t his fault. Or Sharra’s. He appeared in here just after I sent the kids off, he wanted to talk. I was angry, he subdued me, carefully. He explained. I… Musano… Listen to him, please…”

 

Commander Vorren was hard put to maintain his emotionless mask. He looked from his wife to Will. “How many traps have you laid around here?”

 

"None." Will shook his head. “I give you my word, Vorren, I am here to talk only. Tell me to take a hike and I am gone.”

 

"MUsano...?" Lorna made a noise. “What happens if Lord Darmuk hurts Will’s daughter?”

 

"Ah..." Musano Vorren sighed and sat back slowly into his seat. His voice was resigned when he spoke. “The same thing that would happen if Lord Darmuk hurt our daughter, if on larger scale.” His voice became resigned. “What do you need Will?”

 

"Thank you." Will sighed. “I need whatever information you can give me on short notice about Lord Darmuk.”

 

The Cipher agent shook his head.”Will, you are good, you are not that good.” Will just smiled grimly and Vorren sighed. “Will, the man is a Council member; they do not give slots on the Dark Council out for perfect attendance.”

 

"Please?" Will just shook his head slowly. “Vorren, you are my best bet for getting the information without causing a lot of problems.”

 

"I..." Vorren shook his head slowly. “Will… I… I can’t… If I start consorting with enemies of the Empire…”

 

"I know, but..." Will nodded. “You are not. This is a trade, those are allowed, right? Information, non classified information, for the pile of stuff in the docking bay.”

 

Musano Vorren stared at the man he had once almost called friend. “And the holocron?”

 

"That is extra." Will sighed. “That is for lying to you and abusing your trust. We can make an exchange, right? You want the artifacts, and I want information. The Republic and Empire do that kind of thing every day.”

 

"Will..." Commander Vorren shook his head. “I know what you are going to do with the information if I give it to you.”

 

"Oh?" Will just grinned. “Do you? Or do you just have surmises and guesses?”

 

"You..." Vorren had to laugh. “You know… You are right. No one sane would go after a Council member alone, so… what harm would there be? And if you get killed, it benefits the Empire. Even if it would be regrettable.”

 

Will nodded and turned to Lorna. “The paralytic agent will wear off in about an hour. By then I will be gone, one way or another. But I had to say this: ‘Thank you’. From myself and from Sharra. You helped her enormously and we paid you back with deceit. I hope we can meet again someday when we are not on opposite sides. I know she would like to see you. She didn’t really know what was going on at the time, she wasn’t… lucid.”

 

Lorna nodded but didn’t speak. Musano sighed. “Give me time to clear it and a secure link to drop the information and I will see if I can get it to you.”

 

Will nodded and then rose slowly. He stepped to where Lorna was sitting and bent slowly. Musano noted that he had a clear line of fire at Will the whole time, but he wasn’t worried. Not now. Will bent down to kiss the woman on the cheek.

 

Will’s voice was soft. “I am sorry for taking you by surprise like that, and I am sorry for lying to you before. It is a good thing my heart was already taken, Vorren.” He smiled as he straightened. “You found a good one.”

 

Musano Vorren smiled at his wife and she smiled back. “I know.” But when he looked at where Will had been, the man was gone. Vorren shook his head. “And just when I thought life was getting boring…”

<Not very long after>

 

 

“He wants what?” Musano Vorren had heard many tones from the blank screen that served as his conduit to his ultimate superior but never such stark incredulity. He wasn’t sure if it was the Emperor on the other end or not, and it didn’t really matter. He was going to act as if it was no matter what. Now the voice sounded bemused. “He ‘returned’ all of what he stole and asks for… this?” Vorren nodded and didn’t move otherwise, kneeling in the circle of light that was the only thing visible in the room and remained silent. One did not speak when the Emperor did after all. That was a really fast way to lose one’s head. Now the voice was thoughtful. “Speak agent. What are your thoughts?”

 

Vorren took a moment to collect his thoughts before speaking. It was hard, power swirled around him in waves that were palpable even to a Forceless being like himself. When he spoke it was slow and methodical. “Lord Darmuk is involved in what is coming. All of the meager evidence I have found points to this. I do not know how or why he is involved, but he is. There have been numerous discrepancies in his dealings of late; and now this… Ravishaw sent the pod containing Will Kalenath’s daughter to him. I do not know what that means. Ravishaw is insane, so there may not be a meaning. But something is going on, and I personally believe Lord Darmuk is involved. But as a member of the council, he is beyond my normal oversight.”

 

"indeed." The voice from the blank screen sighed. “Much is occurring as was foreseen.” The voice was silent for several minutes. When it spoke again, it was commanding. “You may release what information you deem fit in exchange for the holocron and other treasures. They are secure?”

 

"They are my lord." Vorren bowed. “They are being transported to the secure archives now..”

 

The voice spoke again, quieter. “You have destroyed the holocron?”

 

"Yes." Vorren nodded again. “As commanded, the object was cast into the heart of this system’s star. I did it myself and tracked the trajectory as ordered. It is gone, my lord.”

 

The voice from the screen was a little warmer. Arctic cold as opposed to absolute zero cold. “Excellent. You may make the exchange. However… The Empire cannot afford additional internal strife now. Liquidate any witnesses.”

 

Vorren nodded. “As you command, my Emperor.” It wasn’t as if he hadn’t done that before, and worse.

 

The voice did not speak again, and he blinked as the lights in the room came up to find himself staring into the terrified eyes of the com tech who had put his call through. The girl was quaking, but her stance was upright. She met his eyes and he nodded slowly. He walked towards her.

 

“I am sorry.” His voice was quiet as he stopped a pace from her.

 

“Orders are orders, sir.” Her voice was steady. “I serve…” Her voice nearly broke but she steadied herself. “I serve the Empire. Here?” Her hands were steady as they clasped in front of her. Vorren relieved her of her blaster efficiently and she didn’t move as he bound her wrists with a plastic tie. She couldn’t restrain a small cry as he tightened it as tight as it would go, but he approved of her, she was not a field agent, not trained as one, but she was loyal and strong. Pity…

 

Vorren shook his head slowly. “No, there may be questions if I do it here. Come with me.” He started off and after a stunned moment, the girl followed him.

 

The pair of beings in Sith grey walked through the base. Vorren striding quickly and the girl behind him hurrying to keep up. They passed numerous beings, none of whom looked at either of them. But all of them saw. They reached the detention blocks and Vorren brushed past the guards at the entrance without comment. One of the junior officers started to protest, then saw who he was speaking to and shut up quickly. Vorren came to an empty room and ushered his charge into it. She stopped as she entered, her posture going from resigned to horrified in a heartbeat. She stared at the chair with its restraints and the myriad evil looking appendages all around it and winced. But then she straightened and met Vorren’s eyes. She held his eyes as she marched to the interrogation frame and sat on it, waiting.

 

Vorrnen’s hands were gentle as he arranged her on the hard metal surface and strapped her down. She didn’t struggle as he unbound her hands and then strapped those down as well. He nodded in approval as the droid built into the machine did as its programming dictated. She didn’t cry out as the drug administration needles went into her arm and leg. She almost cried as the three short brain monitor needles penetrated her skull, but she clamped her jaw and nothing made it past her teeth.

 

"Tech?" Vorren’s voice was quiet. “What did you hear?”

 

"I..." The girl spoke evenly, despite the pain she had to be in. “I was in the privacy field, sir. I could hear static. Nothing more. Until the end, when whoever you were speaking to said to liquidate all witnesses. Do what you must, sir.”

 

"Right." Vorren nodded slowly, that was what he had expected. The tech was highly efficient. Which was why he had asked for her specifically. “I always do, Tech Olandas. Tell me something. Do you know who I was speaking to?”

 

"No, sir." She probably would have shaken her head if it hadn’t been strapped down. “It is none of my business. If I may speak freely, sir?”

 

Vorren smiled slightly. “Speak, tech Olandas.”

 

“I will not beg, sir but I do not believe I should be mind wiped. Kill me as you must.” Her voice didn’t crack, as a matter of a fact it was even and almost calm. Vorren didn’t need to look at the monitors to see that the young woman was resigned now.

 

"I will take that under advisement." Vorren bit back a chuckle. “How many times have you been disciplined for talking back to your superiors, Tech Olandas?”

 

"Sir?" The girl stared at him. Her voice was perplexed when she spoke. “Four times, sir. I… I thought that was why you had me connect you, I am the most expendable person on base at the moment.”

 

Vorren smiled a bit sadly. “Actually. You are the least expendable person on base at the moment, barring me. How do you like your job, tech Olandas?”

 

Olandas stared at him. “Sir?”

 

"Tech Olandas." Vorren sighed. “It’s a simple question, how do you like your job?”

 

Olandas obviously wasn’t sure how to react, but lying while strapped to an interrogation frame was right out. She bit out words. “I don’t sir. I fix things for people who have no idea what they are doing with the tech. I get berated for not making equipment perform things it can’t. I hate them…” She broke off, staring at him. “I am failing the Empire where I am…” She slumped.

 

"Yeah." Vorren sighed and stepped close to the frame. He laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I know the feeling. Tell me something then. If you were offered a better job, one with a sizable amount of danger involved, but with the chance to make a difference, would you accept?”

 

Olandas met his eyes. “In a millisecond sir. But I am dead now.”

 

"Nope." Vorren looked at her and then smiled gently. “No you are not, Lieutenant.”

 

Olandas stared at him, her eyes wide. Then she froze as the droid retracted all of the needles out of her body and the restraints clicked open. “S…Sir…?”

 

"Ah..." Vorren had a sad look on his face. “It was decided by the upper echelons that I cannot go solo anymore. I am too ‘valuable’ or some such pile of nerf dung. So I am recruiting personnel for a specialized team, a team that can go places and do things that other more traditional teams cannot. High Command thinks they are going to saddle me with a bunch of raw recruits and keep me under control that way. What do you think?”

 

Olandas didn’t move from where she was sitting. “Sir, I think High Command needs their heads examined.”

 

Vorren chuckled. “I have thought that for years, Lieutenant. Oh by the way…” He tossed her something. She caught it and blinked. It was a small container that held rank tabs for a senior lieutenant. “Can’t have my senior tech support person not at the right rank, now can I?”

 

"Sir..." Olandas stared from the tabs to Vorren. “The command to eliminate witnesses…? I…”

 

"Not you." Vorren shook his head. “’Liquidate any witnesses’ to an operation I am going to be doing in the near future. I don’t kill subordinates without reason.”

 

"So..." Olandas was shaking her head now. “So this was all…” Her voice held awe now.

 

Vorren smiled. “…To offer you a job with no witnesses. If you tell me to take a hike, I will, but your rank will remain. Be warned…” He cautioned. “…My jobs take me places and have me do things that haunt my dreams to this day. But what I do serves the Empire. What do you say Lieutenant Olandas?”

 

Olandas stared at the man, and then at the box of rank tabs in her hand. Then she shot to her feet and saluted. “When do we leave, Sir?”

 

Vorren smiled, he liked this girl, but Lorna would flay him slowly if he did anything but look. “As soon as possible. The trail grows colder while we dally here.”

 

"Right." Olandas nodded. “I can be ready in twenty minutes, sir.”

 

"Good girl." Vorren smiled. “Make it thirty minutes, landing pad four. Pack light, we have a full tech shop aboard the ship.”

 

"Good." Olandas nodded. “What ship, sir?”

 

“We call her the Storm Chaser.”

Musano Vorren was not a happy man. He had hoped, after the last bit of insanity that he had accomplished for his superiors, to have some time to spend with his wife and children. But the reward for a job well done was almost always a harder job. He stood before the little girl and boy that he barely knew and controlled his features as they saluted him, they looked dashing in their uniforms, they had just returned from school. Lorna smiled at him from out of their line of sight and he shook his head slowly. Their coffee colored skin and short black hair matched his. He had always wondered why they had gotten his skin and hair and Lorna’s face, but he figured it was better than getting his. The nicest thing that had ever been said about his features was ‘strong’. Usually, people were a lot less nice. The children looked worried, but he smiled and they relaxed. He returned their salute.

 

“I wish I could remain here for a time. I had hoped; that with this new posting, that I would be able to stay. To get to know the two of you.” They stared at him, dumbfounded. That tone was not one that they had ever encountered. But then again, Mathurin, the eldest, was only seven. His sister Jula was three. Both wore their uniforms well, neither was fat or slovenly. He smiled slightly.

 

He knelt down slowly and held out his arms. After only a brief hesitation, both of the children swarmed into his embrace and he hugged them tight. Mathurin was tightly controlled, his face a mask, but Jula was holding back tears by a small margin. He smiled at her and hugged her again.

 

"Ah girl, be strong." Musano patted his daughter on her head. “Don’t cry, Jula. I will be back. But no matter what happens, you listen to your mother.” The little girl nodded jerkily. Not that he had any doubts that she would, the girl was, if anything, too controlled, too focused, too… He broke off that line of thought. She was a good kid, a great daughter and would make an exceptional agent someday.

 

Now he looked at his son and the boy met his gaze levelly. They shared a nod, nothing really needed to be said. The boy was exceptional as well, fast, strong and smart, he excelled even in the incredibly hard classes that Imperial Intelligence provided for children of its operatives. No one in Imperial Intelligence would coddle anyone; everyone had to pull their weight. Speaking of which…

 

"Mathurin?" Vorren smiled. “How many bugs have you placed around the house?”

 

Mathurin blinked, his Pazzaak face shaken for just a moment. “Uh…” He was torn, that was obvious and after a moment, Vorren took pity on him. It wasn’t weakness, not here and now, to show pity. To obey his orders or to obey his father? Some choice, he was damned if he did and damned if he didn’t.

 

"Good." The patriarch of the family nodded. “You follow your orders. You do the best you can. I know that Guilo ordered you to bug the house; he has been trying to find some dirt on me for years. Did he tell you it was for a class, or did he threaten you?”

 

Mathurin tensed. “I…” Then he slumped. “He threatened Jula.”

 

Musano sighed, and then he embraced his son tighter as Jula stared from one to the other, her face working. Lorna however, when Musano looked up, her face was stern, cold and dangerous. Musano smiled thinly and Lorna shared it, he would leave it in her hands, Guilo would not enjoy what the woman was likely to do, she had all the mercy of a Retu when someone threatened her kids. She would handle it, and it would never be reported. For just a moment, Musano wondered if Guilo had finally pushed her enough to make her kill him, but then put it out of his mind. The man was slime, and if he died, no one would mourn him. The only saving grace the man had was that he was insanely good at analyzing enemy patterns. But Imperial Intelligence had other analysts.

 

"i understand." The agent’s voice was quiet when he spoke. “If that happens again, you tell your mother, immediately. Then you report him up the chain. That is what the chain of command is there for. To prevent problems such as this. We are all under surveillance, true, but… Personal vendettas hinder our primary goal, which is?” He asked quietly.

 

Mathurin and Jula spoke in unison. “To acquire information, to serve the Empire.”

 

Musano nodded and hugged his children tighter. “Exactly. Now, this is very important. You two could be used as leverage against your mother and me. So you cannot keep anything secret from her, you have to tell her anything and everything that happens. If Guilo or anyone else orders, requests, asks or instructs you to do anything that seems wrong in any way shape or form, you contact your mom. I know you have several means of doing so. If you are taken…” He broke off, but Mathurin nodded slowly.

 

“I will not endanger the Empire.” Vorren felt his guts clench at that. Jula nodded as well and Vorren slumped. He knew that both had suicide devices already. It hurt, the thought of his beautiful kids having to do that, but… It was for the best. The kids were a potential danger to his integrity as an agent. Then he embraced his son and daughter tighter.

 

Musano’s voice was quiet and controlled now. “This is probably the safest place in the galaxy for the two of you. I want to stay; I want to see you both grow up. But the Empire needs me. There are never enough agents for what needs to be done. Armies and fleets are needed yes, but sometimes, the best way to win a battle…”

 

He stopped talking as Jula spoke softly. “...is with having one being in the right place at the right time. With a blaster.” Musano hugged his daughter again and then released them and stood slowly. They both stepped back carefully.

 

The Imperial Cipher level agent sighed as he looked from one to the other. “I don’t know when I will be back. I will try to send word, but the places I will have to go…” He shook his head. “You both listen to your mom.”

 

The two kids nodded and Lorna stepped forward to take them in hand. Musano watched as she shepherded them towards their room and with a silent sigh, he turned to go pack. It didn’t take long; most of his gear had already been transferred to his new command. And when he had finished, she was there. Lorna was leaning against the door, her face was a mask, but her pose was sultry.

 

"Aw Lorna..." Musano shook his head. “I wanted more time.”

 

Lorna smiled as she entered and took her husband in her arms. “It’s never about what we want. It’s about what the Empire needs.”

 

Musano smiled. “Yeah, you okay to handle Guilo, or do you want me to?”

 

Lorna smiled, an expression that wouldn’t have been out of place on a Firaxa shark. “Oh, I think I can handle it.” Vorren shivered a bit, this woman could be frightening when she got into moods. Then he shook himself and grabbing his wife by the shoulders, proceeded to show her just how much she meant to him. The kiss went on for several minutes; both beings were in peak condition after all.

 

Finally, Musano broke off and sighed. “I will miss you.”

 

Lorna smiled. “You better come back to me. We need to think of a new name.”

 

Musano froze. “What…?” His voice was quiet, stunned.

 

"I am pregnant again." Lorna shook her head. “I checked right before Will showed up. The indicator was positive.”

 

Musano stared at her, his face working. “Did he, did you… Oh my god, he might have…!” Pregnancies in their first few weeks were very fragile before the embryos had a chance to develop.

 

Lorna grinned. “I asked him to paralyze me, he almost said no. He is just as stubborn as you are. But if he hadn’t I would have fought, it is ingrained in my blood and bone. I told him, and he was ecstatic, he told me that Sharra was expecting too. As soon as I told him, he was gentle.”

 

"I wish..." Musano sighed. “I really wish the man was my friend.”

 

Lorna sighed as well. “Me too, but…” Her face lit up. “I went to the doc this morning. It’s confirmed.”

 

"Oh Lorna." Musano smiled widely as he embraced his wife again, but this time more carefully. “I love you.”

 

Lorna grinned as she returned the embrace. “I know.”

 

<Two hours later>

 

Commander Vorren sat at his desk on the small ship that he commanded now and tried not to sigh. The Storm Chaser was a brand new transport, built from the keel up as a hunter ship. She had state of the art stealth systems, a great deal of firepower and most importantly of all; she had the best communications and sensor suite available. She had been built for one purpose and one purpose only, to get Imperial agents where they needed to go, fast and quietly. He had planned to use the ship to chase the Stormhawk, hence the name, but then High Command in its infinite wisdom, had assigned him a team. A team of people he couldn’t trust. Now he had Tech Olandas, who he thought he could trust as long as he didn’t do anything too far out of the ordinary. He snorted. His usual jobs were so far out of the ordinary that no one sane would call them that. his thoughts broke off as a knock came on his door.

 

Musano Vorren glanced at the video pickup that showed the view from the camera facing his door and sighed inaudibly. “Enter.” He called.

 

The young human who entered could have stepped right off a recruiting poster. His blond hair was cut so short he almost looked bald and his brown eyes were steady as he braced to attention before Vorren's desk. His salute was perfect. “Sir, we will be enter hyperspace in two minutes.”

 

Vorren sighed. “Lieutenant Rillian… If you salute or call me 'sir' at the wrong time and place, you will get everyone on this ship killed. Do I make myself clear?” The kid had a stellar record, only a couple of black marks in its entirety, which Vorren had read, even the supposedly sealed portions. Vorren had the access and the need to know who he was dealing with.

 

Rillian blinked and then he looked embarrassed. “Sorry, Uh.. Vorren… I…”

 

Vorren smiled to take the sting out of his words. “It’s okay lieutenant. I am actually hoping not to need your expertise. But if I do, I will need it fast.” The boy was a combat specialist; his skill with blasters had to be seen to be believed. Vorren thought Will Kalenath was better, but not by very much. Will made up for it by being far more versatile. If this boy survived to be Will’s age, he would be just as impressive.

 

Rillian nodded. “May I ask a question…? Uh…”

 

Vorren nodded. “Go ahead.”

 

Rillain sighed. “I know not to ask about the missions, I know not to ask about the crew’s history. But what are we doing with aliens aboard, sir? This is an Imperial warship…”

 

Vorren shook his head slowly. “It’s a fair question, lieutenant. But your information is incomplete. This is not an Imperial warship, this is an Imperial spyship. Our job is to blend in, to be invisible. You know about camouflage, that is what this ship is. The crew is mismatched for the simple reason that most non-governmental transport’s crews, be they Republic or Imperial, have mixed crews. And we need to fit in, the smallest of things can and will blow our cover if we let it. Will that be a problem?” He asked candidly.

 

Rillian shook his head. “No, sir, uh, sorry… Actually, may I make a suggestion then?”

 

Vorren smiled. “Be my guest.”

 

Rillian smiled a bit himself, odd for him. “Some transport crews I worked with in the ground forces, a few of them were ex-military. It showed. Although I will try not to, as Olandas says, ‘walk around with a rod up my rear’.”

 

Vorren couldn’t help it, he laughed. “Good one, lieutenant. You keep right on being military, if it keeps you focused, that is what we want, but for the sake of whatever… Keep your stuff hidden until we need it. I actually hope we don’t.”

 

Rillian nodded. “To tell you the truth sir, the more I think about it, the less I want to start shooting.”

 

Vorren nodded. “I will sit down with you at some point and go over what we are likely to face. You know the quarry?”

 

Rillian nodded, but his expression as dubious. “Yes sir, but sir… I know it is out of my pay grade, but do I want to know why the Empire is focusing so much effort and money on one girl?”

 

Vorren sighed. “Setsuna Andal is more than just a girl; she is a powerful Force user. If she gets in hand’s reach, you are dead, clear?” Rillian nodded slowly. “What is worse is that we need her alive. She was last seen on a ship that I have determined was heading for Correllia. So that will be our first stop, Correlians are… strange in a number of ways, but do not underestimate them.”

 

Rillian nodded. “Rules of engagement?”

 

Vorren shook his head. “None. If we have to shoot, we shoot, clear?”

 

Rillian blinked. “Sir…?” That went against everything the soldier had ever been taught. He picked and chose his targets with care. Only in holo-vids did soldiers get to spray the area with wild fire and not face charges after the fact. The Empire didn’t mind people tearing up landscapes, but wild fire tended to endanger people on the same side as much as the enemy. And Sith troops that fired at their commanding officers had a very short life expectancy.

 

Vorren nodded. “That is why I don’t want to use you, if I do… Then it has all gone to hell and you will be covering our extraction. In that case, shoot anything that might endanger us.”

 

Rillian swallowed audibly. “Yes sir.”

 

Vorren nodded. “Now, we have all the ordnance you requested, was there anything else you needed?”

 

Rillian shook his head but then paused. “Um… Sir…”

 

Vorren looked at the boy. “Yes?”

 

Vorren watched with some amusement as Rillian blushed a bit. “Um… The female with the head tails, she has been… um….”

 

Vorren shook his head slowly. “Mi’ta has been propositioning you?” Rillian nodded. “Do you want to?”

 

"Sir." Rillian stiffened. “Uh, sir…I…”

 

Vorren sighed. “Ah, kids… Look, you are a legal adult. This is not a warship of the Sith Imperial navy. If you want to, have fun. I bet she would be holy terror between the sheets. But be warned, she isn’t the type for long term relationships. It might be fun, it might not be. But if you are going to do it, set some ground rules right off the bat, and don’t be too surprised.” Rillian nodded slowly. Then without a word, he saluted and left the room. After he was gone, Vorren snickered a bit. “Kids…”

It had been along night but Vorren didn't mind. there was always enough to keep him occupied. The agent didn’t look up from his work as his door hissed open without warning and a female Twi’lek stormed into the room. He didn’t need to look to see her to know that her skin was brown with light mottled spots and her eyes were a deep blue. Or that her face held a frown. He had known Mi’ta for a long, long time.

 

When she spoke it was sour. “You coached him, didn’t you?”

 

"Hello Mi'ta." Vorren met her eyes not, and his face held a grin. His voice was mocking. “Don’t tell me you didn’t have fun.”

 

The Twi’lek pouted. “That is beside the point. You cheated. Again.” Vorren just looked at her and she sighed deeply. “How am I ever going to get better if you don’t let me express myself in my work?”

 

Vorren shook his head. “Mi’ta… He is a member of the team. You want to sleep with him, fine, but no manipulations. We will likely need him alert and focused.”

 

The Twi’lek’s annoyance faded and was replaced by something else, something hungry. “You got a lead?”

 

Vorren nodded. “The freighter the fleet chased, the Rising Star, grounded on Correllia. According to the records Imperial Intelligence has acquired, the crew was evacuated, and when searchers checked the ship they found a stowaway. One with red hair.”

 

Mi’ta thought about that. “Might not be her, many humans have red head fur.”

 

Vorren nodded. “She wiped the floor, using the Force, with the security team sent to apprehend her, and then she vanished in the company of a Jedi. One Micheal Jonal, a Jedi posted to Correllia by the Jedi Council.”

 

"Hmmm..." For once, Mi’ta was all business, her gaze was on the holo that was playing on Vorren’s terminal. A red haired, sad faced young human female. “A Jedi… This is going to complicate things. How many other teams on planet?”

 

Vorren groaned. “Two. Both fairly competent. They have been doing all the standard things, but wherever the Jedi took her, he meant for her to vanish. The teams haven’t found anything. They haven’t left the planet. Of that we are sure.”

 

Mi’ta nodded slowly. “So… what are we supposed to do? ‘Beat the bushes’? I think is that the human term.”

 

Vorren shook his head. “No, the other teams are doing that, and they have more personnel. Our job is to do what we do best. Sneak in, find the girl, grab her and extract, hopefully before anyone else realizes we are there.”

 

Mi’ta sighed. “Always the optimist, eh, Vorren?” Her voice was rueful.

 

Vorren snorted. “Hardly. Come one, team meeting in three minutes.” He stood up from his desk and walked to where she was posing languidly now. “Stop that, Mi’ta. Or do you want me to tell Lorna you have been trying to poach on her territory again?” His words were serious and Mi’ta blanched.

 

Mi’ta sighed. “Can’t blame a girl for trying. You are one gorgeous hunk of man.”

 

Vorren shook his head slowly. “Stay off the lotus blooms while we are on the mission. Or I will shoot you.” His voice was deadly serious. She was an addict to the potent aphrodisiac, but she had it mostly under control. Mostly.

 

Mi’ta nodded, her face unhappy. “Life is so complicated now. Sometimes I wish you had never pulled me out of that mine. That I was still just a slave.”

 

Vorren smiled. “And then…?”

 

Mi’ta snorted. “Then I wake up.” They both laughed as they strode through the corridor of the small ship.

 

They came to the main common are of the ship, a small compartment currently set up as a briefing room. One nice thing about the Storm Chaser was that every room was multipurpose. The common area could be set up in a myriad of ways. It could be bunk space for troops, storage space for equipment, or a triage area for the small medical bay that was Mi’ta’s domain. And it could even be used a s a training area for the troops, both physical training and mental, with various strategy games available to wile away the time spent in transit. Vorren was partial to Dejarik himself. But right now, the dejarik board was configured as a holoprojector. Vorren nodded to the rest of the team as he walked to where the board was humming.

 

Mi’ta took her seat beside Rillian who looked very satisfied this morning. She snuggled up to him and he didn’t react, Vorren hid a mental chuckle as Mi’ta frowned at the lack of reaction to her less than veiled advances. She was insatiable, but also professional enough not to let it get in the way. Rillian was sitting at attention and Vorren nodded to him. Rillian nodded back slightly as Vorren looked at the rest of the team.

 

Tech Olandas was obviously perusing a manual while she waited, her eyes literally flying over the holographic display of her datapad, but he was reasonably sure that she would hear anything that he said. She was, as advertised, very good at her job. The ship was humming now, it being a prototype, it had possessed many minor problems. Most of which had been fixed before Olandas had arrived, but a few had required her special brand of tech savvy. What she couldn’t fix, she usually replaced, often with loud cursing and much clanging involved. Sometimes she had to replace things because she herself had broken them, but she did so without complaint. His only quarrel with her was her lack of interaction with the rest of the crew. She was so bound up in her tech that no one else saw her unless they needed to find her for something. Mi’ta was actually worried that the girl might become truly anti-social, something they really couldn’t afford on this small a ship, and on the missions that they were going to be doing. When asked, however, Mi’ta had simply said ‘Leave it to me’ and she refused to speak further. Vorren would let the Twi’lek work; she was a marvel at dealing with people. She might not have the Force, but she had all kinds of tricks up her slim sleeves.

 

The Force… Vorren tried not to grimace as he looked to the side and saw black robes. Imperial Intelligence had wanted to keep this operation under their own purview, but the Dark Council was having none of it. Apparently Setsuna Andal was more important that anyone was letting on about. Vorren didn’t like having a Sith aboard. They were dangerous, unpredictable and would betray anyone at the drop of a hat. Apprentice Olut was a decent enough sort, Vorren grudgingly admitted. Add to that the man was honest enough to speak plainly. He had been sent along specifically to ‘deal’ with Setsuna’s abilities. Vorren wasn’t sure exactly was that meant, and he wasn’t going to ask. One did not inquire too deeply into the doings of Sith Lords and apprentices after all. Olut met Vorren’s eyes gravely and they shared a nod, they understood one another. Neither liked the other, but both were under orders. So as long as things didn’t change, they were allies. That didn’t change the fact that Vorren had several contingency plans in place for when the man betrayed them. He would, it was just a question of when. Sith lived betrayal.

 

The other two, Loc and Zindra, were both humans. Loc was a dark haired, pale skinned pilot, and his skill was acceptable. Vorren was no pilot, although he could fly when he had to. Loc had started out in the Starfighter Corps, so his survival meant he was good, or lucky. Vorren would take either of those. His credentials said that he could fly anything with drives or wings and from what Vorren had seen the man was good. He was competent and skilled enough to pass Vorren’s own ‘special’ training evaluation with ease. But he was so quiet as to pass almost unnoticed.

 

Zindra on the other hand, was short, dark, swarthy and loud. Admittedly, she was the teams demolitions specialist, so loud was her business, but… Vorren was not sure at all about her. He had worked with lots of demolitions people over the years. And there was something… off about her. He wasn’t entirely sure what it was, but there was something just not quite right about her. She had been added to the team early on, and he had spoken his misgivings quickly. He knew demo, he didn’t need another specialist. But High Command had been adamant. So he did what he always did, he nodded, said ‘Yes sir’, and watched her like a hawkbat.

 

Vorren nodded to each in turn and then keyed the holoprojector live. “I am sure all of you have seen this before, but this is our target.” The holo showed a young human woman with red hair, green eyes and a sad look on her face. The dark splotches all over her face however made her easy to identify. “This is Setsuna Andal. Our orders are to take her alive and unharmed. Once we have her, your job, Mi’ta, will be to keep her asleep and healthy until we reach wherever Apprentice Olut tells us to go.”

 

Both of the beings named nodded slowly and Vorren continued. “Now, as to the threat… This girl was trained as an assassin, but apparently she was not very good at the actual killing part. The sneaking part she has down very pat.” A chuckle swept the room. “But, we have evidence that she has mind control abilities, as well as standard force skills. So every crewperson will wear nerve amplifiers until further notice.” He touched his own belt and winced slightly as the device sent shocks through his nervous system. Uncomfortable, true, but they would provide a certain amount of protection, for a time anyway. “Now, I have not been able to determine what other powers she has so we will have to play it by ear. But remember this girl is a Sith, a weak and pathetic one by all accounts, but a Sith.”

 

Olut raised hand and Vorren nodded to him. “Weak and pathetic of mind she may be, but she has power. My master either didn’t know or wouldn’t say what powers the girl might have, but whatever they were… they frankly worried Master Nira.”

 

All of the intelligence operatives sat up straight at that. For a Sith of all people to say something like that…

 

Vorren nodded slowly. “Okay… We plan on taking her by surprise. The snatch team will have dart guns and stunners only. We have a contact, a bounty hunter named Kunda Gev, on the ground at the moment, we can trust him about as far as we can trust any bounty hunter, so be ready. Now, for the actual insertion onto Correllia, I will be point…”

 

The Intel people and the Sith apprentice listened intently and Vorren hoped that they would be able to pull this off. He really did, or this could go very bad, very quickly.

<Two days later>

 

Imperial Cipher Agent Musano Vorren was tense, although a casual observer would be hard pressed to realize it, as well as he controlled his body. He strode from the office he had been visiting and didn’t react as he saw Mi’ta lounging on a bench across the way. Their eyes met for an instant and his head shook, just a tiny bit. She was too much of a professional to let her own expression change, but her eyes looked away from a moment. She stood up as he walked closer.

 

“No luck?” She asked quietly as they started off towards the safe house they had commandeered on arrival.

 

Vorren’s voice was also quiet, partly to keep any potential observers with microphones from hearing him easily, and partly to mask his own frustration. “No, the medical team has no idea at all what happened. The Jedi apparently played with their minds, they don’t even remember him, so… Another dead end.”

 

The insertion onto Correllia had been anti-climactic. After all of the team’s preparation, after all of their planning, all it had taken to get the entire team onto the planet had been a moderate bribe to a spaceport official. They had settled into a safe house provided by Imperial Intelligence and started their search. And so far, had come up completely empty. Vorren shook his head, this was beyond frustrating. He knew the girl was on planet. She was within his grasp and he couldn’t find her. Wherever the Jed had gone he had done an impressive job of vanishing. Part of him could admire that, even while the rest of him wanted to disembowel the Force user with a dull spoon.

 

"Okay." Mi’ta walked in silence for moment, thinking. When she finally spoke, it was thoughtful. “And the hunter?”

 

Vorren shook his head. “No sign yet. He has missed two contact points. Well, we only paid him the retainer. If he ran off with that, too bad but there is not much we can do about it. What word from the other teams?”

 

"I made contact as ordered." Mi’ta shrugged. “Team 11982 is canvassing the homeless areas of Coronet as we speak, and team 17865 has the spaceports sewn up, so nothing will be leaving that way.”

 

Vorren nodded, but his mind was moving. Something was wrong. Then it clicked. “Mi’ta, did Rillian contact you to tell you he had us in sight?” The military man’s attention to detail was annoying at times, but in hostile territory it was also a comfort.

 

Mi’ta tensed slightly. “No. He hasn’t.” They exchanged a glance; they were almost to the safehouse. The two of them shared a nod and split up.

 

Vorren sighed and sat down in the shade of a convenient tree as he fiddled with his shoe as if he had a rock in it or something. Then he rose again and strode slowly to the door of the safehouse. When he tried it, the knob moved easily under his hand and his tension level ramped up a few more notches. Imperial Intelligence safehouse doors were always locked as a matter of course. As he stepped in, he drew his holdout blaster. He had told his team to carry stunners only but that was basically pro-forma. If Mi’ta in particular wasn’t carrying at least two blasters, he would eat a Nerf, wooly fur and all. He ghosted into the house slowly, carefully. Then he froze as he heard a voice, not one he knew.

 

“…Look, I don’t care what you are doing. I just want to talk to your boss. No, don’t do that…” Vorren could only smile at the frustration in the human voice as a muted crash was heard. Apparently Rillian was not cooperating with whoever the flarg this was. He crouched down and his head poked slightly around a corner to look into the room that the team had set up as a surveillance station and command post. Rillian was on the floor, his arms bound behind him as a figure in armor kicked him. “Stop fighting, and tell me what I want to know…”

 

Vorren’s eyes narrowed as he saw two crumpled forms nearby. Olandas was breathing, he couldn’t tell if Olut was. Whoever this guy was, he was no lightweight. But he wasn’t very bright if he thought that physical threats or pain would make a soldier like Rillian break. Oh the boy could be broken. For that matter, Vorren himself could be, given enough time and effort, but not like that. Rillian’s eyes lit on Vorren’s face for just a moment, but the boy didn’t betray anything. As shadow moved in an adjoining room and Vorren nodded slightly as he stood up and strode around the corner. The armored form pulled back his leg to kick Rillian but froze as Vorren spoke.

 

“That is quite enough of that, whoever the frak you are. Who do you think you are, barging in here?” The armored form spun to face him and a hand came up with a blaster, but Vorren didn’t react. He could have shot the fool, but the charges in his hold-out blaster might not penetrate full armor at this range.

 

“Who are you?” The man’s voice was arrogant still, but now had a trace of worry.

 

“I asked you first.” Vorren spoke evenly as he took three steps forward. He didn’t take his eyes off the hunter, and he carefully did not look at Rillian who was moving slowly. The boy was a mess. Obviously he had fought hard and been beaten down just as hard.

 

"Me?" The bounty hunter kicked Rillian again before nodding to Vorren. “My name is Kunda Gev, I assume you are Vorren.”

 

“Maybe…” Vorren spoke slowly. “Kunda Gev, your… reputation precedes you.”

 

Gev nodded. “You have heard of me then.” He was not expecting Vorren to laugh.

 

“Aw come on, how many bounty hunters are stupid enough to try and take down a Bladeborn when she is obviously too much for you?" The agent scoffed. "How many bounty hunters get arrested while trying to do so?” His voice turned vicious. “How many bounty hunters can be quite so stupid as to continue to try and get at someone like Istara Sharlina Andal when the person who offered the bounty in the first place is dead?” His blaster was not up or aimed, and it didn’t seem to faze him at all that Kunda’s was. Kunda met his eyes now and Vorren didn’t react as a shadow behind the hunter lengthened a bit. Vorren’s tone was ironic now. “You do know how to bite off more than you can chew, don’t you?”

 

Kunda Gev snorted and Vorren tensed as he produced a silver sphere. “I seem to have this situation under control.” But then Kunda tensed as Vorren relaxed.

 

"Do you now?" Vorren’s voice was soft. “That is an Imperial Mark Seven Class Two thermal detonator. Where did you get that?” Mi’ta was moving slowly from cover to cover behind the armored form now.

 

"You people shouldn’t leave such things lying around." Kunda snorted. “Someone nasty might find them.”

 

"True." Vorren nodded. “Very true. But…” He smiled, just a bit viciously. “There is something you need to know.”

 

Kunda looked at him, obviously perplexed even through the armor. “Which is?”

 

Vorren grinned wider. “That is a fake.” The form of the imperial agent vanished from sight as his stealth systems cut in and the silver sphere made a funny noise and went dark. Kunda froze and then dodged to the side as. Well, the bounty hunter tried to dodge to the side. Rillian tripped him and then when the hunter tried to roll away, threw his body over top of the hunter. Vorren was in motion, but was not close enough as the hunter threw the bound soldier off and triggered a shot that had the soldier falling limp.

 

“You bastard!” Came a shout from the back of the room and Mi’ta ran full tilt into the hunter as he was trying to rise. The hunter aimed his wrist at her, trying to activate his flamethrower, but she was inside his arc and with a quick swipe from a knife she produced from somewhere, she cut the control cables for it. She was fury in motion as she swarmed at him, and no matter what he tried, she was one step ahead. Finally, he managed to get a grip on her skin and threw her across the room. Despite her fury, Mi’ta was not a large being and the bounty hunter was. A dull snap was heard when she landed, and while she rolled to her feet quickly, one arm hung limp and useless. But her face was still a mask of fury as she readied herself to charge again.

 

"My armor!" Gev snarled as he looked at his armor, it was smoking and several bits of it hung loose. “You are going to pay for that you alien witch!”

 

“No she is not.” Came a cold voice. Everything stopped as a stealth field generator powered down and Vorren appeared again, this time a heavy blaster pistol was in his hand. It was aimed at the hunter’s head, from a range of about a meter. At this range, no bounty hunter armor in the galaxy would protect from such a weapon. Vorren’s voice was now as cold as space itself. “If you have killed my friend you will pray for death and it will be a long time coming. You are not only scum, you are stupid scum. Mi’ta…?”

 

The Twi’lek nodded as she came closer. Her hand flashed and a hypo shone in it as it touched the hunter’s neck where the armor didn’t cover. The payload of the hypo passed through the thin bodystocking without trouble and the hunter fell boneless. She kicked the form at her feet.

 

Vorren sighed as he put the pistol away. “Mi’ta? Are you okay?”

 

The Twi’lek shook her head. She was fingering the shoulder with the arm hanging limp. “Rillian’s alive. Aw dammnit, I think he broke it…” She kicked the unconscious bounty hunter again.

 

"Let me see..." Vorren came close and his fingers were gentle as he explored the wound. He nodded as he felt a break. “Yeah, you broke the collarbone. Teach you to roll when you land.” He pulled a medkit from a pocket and opened it.

 

“Kiss off, Musano Vorren.” Mi’ta snared at him. But she relaxed as he worked. “He is out for a couple of hours. I just hope he is allergic or something… I want to hurt him. Ow, careful, you dungbrain…” She started cursing as Vorren lifted her arm gently to bind it in place.

 

Vorren had to smile as Mi’ta cursed in multiple languages. “That is 'Boss Dungbrain' to you. There, that should hold you until we can do something better. Next time roll.”

 

Mi’ta nodded. “Yes sir.” She flexed the fingers of her immobilized arm and nodded. “Now what?”

 

Vorren’s eyes were cold as he surveyed the unconscious bounty hunter at their feet. “Now we clean up this mess, you do what you can for Rillian, and then we have a little ‘talk’ with Mr. Gev here…”

 

Mi’ta grinned widely. “Can I use my persuader?” With her free hand, she pulled a long and vicious looking knife from a hidden sheath on her belt.

 

"I think..." Vorren smiled and death was in his eyes. “Yes…”

((In the interest of keeping this a family friendly forum, I am going to cut it there. I do not think the bounty hunter will enjoy what is coming, do you? Comments or suggestions always appreciated, flames might get Imperial Intelligence looking at you closely. Uh... no sir... No sir, um, please don't do that, yes, I will comply with all instruc....))