<Somewhere>

 

Juli Shanas woke and for a moment, was unsure of where she was. She had expected to wake in a cell, or at the very least bound to a medical berth. That was the usual disposition of prisoners after all. She cracked her eyes and stiffened. She was in Medical. But she was not in an isolation ward or sterile chamber. She was in a private room. That was unheard of for a common crewmember. Not that she really was, even before she got in trouble.

 

A soft voice spoke from nearby. “One Thirty Seven?”

 

Juli turned her head to see a form sitting in a chair beside her bed. It wasn’t anyone she knew. The young Trandoshan was female, and was watching Juli with odd almost tender smile on her face. “Good morning, I am Two Sixteen. Will told me to sit with you, he said you might be a bit disoriented. He wanted to be here, but he was called away.”

 

Juli sank back into the bed. Trandoshans were generally hard and cruel, but not all of them. L’Trask, the chief medical officer of the ship was one such. Her voice was hoarse when she spoke. “You are new?”

 

"Yes I am." The Trandoshan nodded and held out a cup of water. “Here. You need fluids. I was um…Well…” To Juli’s amazement the lizard woman chuckled ruefully. “I was a mess, Will gave me a place. Much as he did you. I have wanted to meet you for a while. But not like this.”

 

Juli took the cup carefully and sipped slowly. She felt odd, but put it down to whatever drugs the doctors had used on her. She finished the cup and smiled as she handed it back. The Trandoshan took it and set it carefully on a table nearby. Juli spoke softly. “So when do I get moved to detention?”

 

"Ugh." The Trandoshan sighed. “As soon as they are sure you are tracking properly. Will is… um…”

 

"Incensed I bet." Juli sighed as well. “My fault, not his. Don’t…” She grunted as something hurt.

 

The Trandoshan laid a gentle claw on her flesh and blood shoulder. “Easy… They put you through the ringer. I have never seen Will so upset. He is scary enough as it is. Get him mad…” The Trandoshan shuddered a bit and Juli nodded. The Trandoshan sighed. “As soon as you feel up to it, I will help you to the refresher. Then the guards will come.”

 

Juli nodded slowly. She sat up carefully, cataloging her body’s aches and pains. For the most part, she didn’t feel bad. She felt…good, for the most part. But that was probably drugs. She could see red marks from injections on her arms and could feel sore spots elsewhere. She was shaky when she stood however and only the Trandoshan’s gentle claws kept her upright when she did manage to get to her feet. She was steady by the time they reached the shower stall. She cleaned herself quickly, and was unsurprised to find a clean unarmored ship suit, one of hers, waiting for her when she finished. She was a trifle muzzy headed as she finished putting the clothes on, but ignored it as she ignored the pain that still echoed through her body. Two Sixteen helped her back to the bed and helped her sit.

 

The Trandoshan’s voice was careful now. “They are under orders not to bind you. Will um…”

 

"Of all the..." Juli shook her head exasperated. “Sheesh, that man… I know the crew won’t hurt me. I am more worried about my birth father and Istara.”

 

"Relax." Two Sixteen smiled, a toothy Trandoshan grin that was somehow kind. “Neither is in any danger. Nine is looking after them.”

 

Juli sighed and nodded. “I am ready.”

 

The Trandoshan nodded and hit a button on her comlink. The door hissed open and two armored forms entered, a male and female. Not Mandalorians this time, but Stormhawk marines. Juli actually might have preferred Mandalorians. She knew she was in trouble, big trouble. She when she rose, it was slow and careful. She had to grab the side of the bed to steady herself but then stood up straight.

 

The girl nodded to the guards. “Now?” The guards nodded silently and Juli turned to the Trandoshan. “I… I…uh…need some help…”

 

"Right." Two Sixteen nodded slowly. “L’trask told me what to do. Are you sure…? You can take what time you need…”

 

"No." Juli shook her head. “If I don’t do it now, I will never have the guts.” She held her arms out wide and stood impassive as the Trandoshan came close. She flinched slightly as cold Trandoshan claws found hidden switches and her mechanical right arm came off in the Trandoshan’s grip. She managed to curb her reaction as the Trandoshan did the same for her left arm. But then she froze as the young Trandoshan embraced her.

 

The lizard woman spoke for her ears alone. “They will be waiting for you, sister. Have courage. We will be watching.” Juli’s eyes went wide as she stared at the Trandoshan who was withdrawing now. But then she smiled. Will was always collecting strays, like herself. If this Trandoshan was also now a Kalenath, well, that would make life very interesting. For lots of people…

 

Juli nodded to the guards. “I am ready.”

 

The female guard nodded and the male guard opened the door. Neither spoke as Juli strode to stand between them, and then they all marched off. An odd procession, but the rules had reason, and circumventing them was never a good idea, even for the best of reasons. None of the crew they passed would meet Juli’s eyes. Not that she was surprised. She had transgressed. The guards led her to the detention bay, but instead of a detention cell, they led her to an office and sitting in a chair behind the desk…

 

Juli braced to attention as Stormhawk Boss sat up from his slouch. Boss’ voice was soft. “I will take it from here.” The marines saluted and left the room. Juli felt the door hiss shut behind her, but it was more of a clang of iron bars and heavy chains dragging her down again. Boss indicated a chair. “Can you sit on your own?” Juli snorted and sat carefully. Boss snorted just a dryly humorous. “Silly me. We need to talk.”

 

"I..." Juli sighed. “Yes we do.”

 

"One Thirty Seven..." Boss shook his head slowly. “What did they do to you? I see the cosmetic surgery. But the docs found traces of… well... Scars and residue of interrogation drugs.”

 

Juli nodded. “The scars I mainly did to myself. Stowing away on the Dragon hurt, and then I stowed away on another ship. The drugs… the Bladeborn did not want to interrogate me. But Imperial Intelligence would not take my word for what little I knew of this ship. So I asked the Bladeborn to wring me out.” She was sure she had shocked the armored form.

 

When Boss spoke, it was careful. “You asked a group of Sith to interrogate you?”

 

"Well..." Juli grimaced. “Yeah, put that way, it does sound insane. But the Bladeborn are not Sith. You of all people know that. If they were, would Sharlina have rescued Maria? I asked Istara to pull and bring the record from that interrogation. Your techs can determine if it has been sliced or not. Just, word of advice… If you watch the video, don’t eat beforehand.”

 

Boss stiffened. “You… You watched it, yourself?”

 

"I had to." Juli nodded. “I didn’t know anything about the ship, just what was in the library. I did that intentionally. I knew I was going to go after my dad. And that he was working for the Sith. But… I had no idea. I am sorry I insulted you Boss, and I didn’t mean to… I really didn’t mean to… I wasn’t inciting to mutiny, really I wasn’t.”

 

"I know." Boss sighed. “Ah, Juli. What am I going to do with you?”

 

"Whatever you have to." Juli slumped. “Whatever you wish. I know what the rules demands.”

 

"Oh?" Boss snickered. “And wasn’t it you who said that they were more ‘guidelines’ than actual rules?”

 

"Look." Juli sighed. “I know I have to face the crew for what I did. I could have put them in danger. I could have incited unrest. I didn’t mean to, and I was trying not to.”

 

"I know..." Boss nodded. “For now, you will remain in detention until we can convene a hearing. Are you okay?” His voice held worry now. Juli had gone a bit pale.

 

"I can't scratch my nose..." Juli was shaking. “I had forgotten… I had forgotten how bad it is to not have arms… I…”

 

Boss shook his head and then he hit a control. The camera above the door stopped humming. In an instant, the helmet came off and Hala was kneeling beside Juli’s chair. “Ah, Juli…” She hugged the girl who was trying hard not to cry now. “You are crazy. Come here, girl.” Her armored fingers found Juli's nose and scratched carefully. "Better?"

 

"Yes, but..." Juli was shaking her head as she leaned into the embrace. “You shouldn’t do that. You do it too often and people will figure it out.”

 

"I don't care." Hala Shinn Kalenath shook her head. “The day I do not comfort one of my sisters who is in pain, I devoutly hope someone plugs me. This is going to be rough Juliana Shanas Kalenath. But we are with you.”

 

"Hala... No..." Juli shook her head. "You have to remain neutral. You have to be Boss. Please Hala… Boss… I…” She shook herself and her face smoothed into a mask of concentration.

 

The woman who had assumed the mantle of Stormhawk Boss sighed and strode back to the desk. “Go ahead and cry, Juli. No one doubts your courage.” She put the helmet back on and her mannerisms changed back to the aloof and mighty Stormhawk Boss. The camera came back on as Boss sat again. “Go ahead and cry girl. The crew will want to hear what you have to say. We will handle you and…Istara’s request first.” The armored form’s voice was dubious.

 

"I have done all I wanted to do." Juli sighed. “I have seen my dad and forgiven him for hurting me. That is all I wanted to do. Everything else is just bonuses. But I have to say this, Istara means well, but she doesn’t understand the ship, or it’s crew.”

 

"I know." Boss nodded. “That is why I had Nine take her in hand. The Guardians will deal for awhile without their den mother.”

 

Juli blinked. “The who?”

 

Boss had a smirk in his voice when he spoke again. “You will meet them soon enough. For now, you go into a cell.” The door hissed open and the two marines came in again. Juli let them help her to her feet.

 

Juli halfway expected to be tossed into a force cage, but again, the crew didn’t do as she expected. Instead, she was led into a larger cell, one designed for comfort. It had a bunk, a small refresher and a comfortable looking chair in it. The guards assisted her into the chair and then left. But as they were leaving the female guard nodded to Juli and spoke. “Basic terminal is active on voice commands. It is standalone. But we know about you and being bored.”

 

Juli had to snicker at that as the guard nodded and left the cell. The force field crackled to life and she was alone. For a moment, she just sat, trying to think through everything that had happened. Then she sighed. “What do I say? Computer?” To her delight, the terminal nearby hummed to life at her word. “Sweet!”

 

“Command not recognized.” Came a disembodied voice. “State request.”

 

Juli smiled. It seemed that computers still had no sense of humor. “Dejarik level five, game mode six.” A holoscreen appeared in mid air nearby showing a Dejarik board with pieces ready. Now the girl grinned. She might just enjoy parts of this imprisonment.

Juli had not been at the game long before she had a visitor. Her attention however was on the game. Finally, she trounced the computerized opponent and looked up to find a Cathar in a flightsuit scrutinizing her. The girl sighed. “Hello, Nine. I thought you were shepherding Istara and Cole.”

 

The former leader of Silver Squadron, the Stormhawk’s prime ace fighter squadron shook her head slowly as she tried not to stare at the mechanical stumps of Juli’s shoulder and arm. “I am, they are meeting Boss at the moment. He didn’t want any more distractions than absolutely needed.” The Cathar shook her head again. “Wow, One Thirty Seven. That gives a whole new definition to the term ‘disarmed’.” She said with a grin.

 

Juli sighed again, this time long suffering. She had forgotten the Cathar’s sense of humor, if you could call it that. “Very funny. Are you here officially?”

 

"Yes." Nine nodded. “Aw girl. If you had gone anywhere except an Imperial ship, this wouldn’t be such a problem. As it is though…” She shook her head and pulled a folding chair out of a hidden closet. She sat near the force field.

 

"Nine, you don't understand." Juli shook her head. “Bladeborn are not Sith, Nine. They served the Empire, they don’t anymore. But they were never Sith.”

 

"Of all the..." Nine slumped in her chair. “One Thirty Seven… Semantics aside, they served the Sith Empire. Yes, Istara, or Sharlina, did us a great service when she saved Maria. Then she sent all the information and the test subjects she had rescued. So yes, we owe her a great deal. But that is her. She was not one of the ones who tortured you.” Now the Cathar looked sick.

 

Juli froze. “You saw the recording.” Nine nodded. “Did Boss tell you it was my choice?”

 

Nine blinked. “He did, but I didn’t believe it. You are serious…? You asked them to do that to you?” Nine, a proud and blooded warrior and pilot, had very nearly lost her lunch watching what the girl had endured.

 

"Yeah." Juli swallowed. “I really didn’t have any idea going in what was entailed. But it did what I wanted. It showed the Bladeborn and by extension Imperial Intelligence that I knew nothing about this ship. Except the library. I wouldn’t want to go through it again, but they were kind to me. Both before and after. They didn’t need to be. I was a complication.”

 

"Well, they did one thing we never managed to." Nine smiled slightly. “I see they talked you into getting your face repaired.”

 

Juli grinned a little self-consciously. “Yeah, they did. Took them a while though. Ona, their healer, has all the give of a rock. She could give L’trask or Hawkir a run for their money in sheer quiet stubbornness. Although she is not always quiet.” Now her smile was tender, she liked Ona.

 

Nine sighed. “One Thirty Seven…” The Cathar looked away and when she looked back, her face was set. “The crew is setting up a full court. For your case, for Istara’s and for the Jedi that Will caught.”

 

"I...see..." Juli’s eyes went wide at that, and then she swallowed audibly. She slumped. “You will need to keep Will away. You know what he will do.”

 

The Cathar sighed again. “One Thirty Seven, no one is going to shoot you or space you. And not just because of what Will or your birth father might do. But we cannot have people just disregarding the rules like that.” The fighter pilot’s eyes pinned the girl in place. “You up and vanished on us. Some of us thought you might have taken a walk out an airlock, girl.”

 

"Oh." Juli bit her lip. That thought had not occurred to her. “I…” She shook her head. “I am sorry. I never thought of that. I just… Aw man, Nine, he is my dad…” Her eyes burned but she ignored them as she focused on the Cathar.

 

"I know, girl." Stormhawk Nine smiled sadly. “I know. Will told us as soon as he found you. But…Well, you know how he feels about people hounding what he calls his ‘kids’.”

 

"He wasn't happy when he found me." Juli winced. “Yeah. So… when?”

 

Nine blew out a breath. “As soon as Boss is done talking to Istara, Will and Cole.”

 

"I am okay with that." Juli shook her head. “I bet that conversation is going to be loud.”

 

"Ya think?" Nine snickered. “Probably. But before that, we are going to fit you with a pair of arms, not the special ones you had made but regular prosthesis.”

 

"Nine?" Juli blinked. “Do you have to?”

 

Nine stared at her. “One Thirty seven…” the Cathar’s voice was careful now.

 

"Wait..." Juli shook her head quickly. “Nine hear me out…” The Cathar shrugged and nodded. Juli spoke evenly. “If I have arms, you have to bind them. It’s required for a court, right? You do know what Will is going to do if he gets there and I am in chains, right?”

 

Nine swallowed audibly. “You know, I hadn’t thought about that. Good…point…” Will’s feelings about the foundlings he took in were strong, as strong as any the soldier had. And he had made his position on seeing any of them in chains quite clear.

 

"Right." Juli nodded. “But if I am 'disarmed'…” She grinned. “What can you bind?”

 

"You know..." Nine just shook her head. “One might actually think you planned all of this.”

 

"Planned?" Juli made a grunting noise. “I wish. More like I just fall into things. I do have one request though, if it is allowed.” Nine looked at her and Juli slumped. “I would ask for Istara to stand with me. I know my father can’t and Will… Well, he will be there. But asking him to remain neutral in this is not going to work.”

 

"Ah..." Nine shook her head slowly. “One Thirty Seven… You are asking us, the crew to open ourselves up to a Sith. Maybe she isn’t really one, but that is what they will think you are asking.”

 

"I know." Juli nodded. “I do know. But I think she would be the best choice. She knows me, and I trust her. Will cannot stand for me, and my dad… Well, that wouldn’t be such a good idea. He is a good father, but rules are not his strong suit. Istara has followed her code almost her whole life. You tell her the rules, and she will abide by them.”

 

"And..." Nine stared at Juli. “And if the crew does decide on punishment?” There really was only one type of punishment for this kind of crime. Death.

 

"If they choose that?" Juli slumped. “Then she will make it painless. And… I…” now tears were falling and she dashed them away on the shoulder of her jumpsuit. “I trust her, Nine. She won’t like it, but she will do it.”

 

Stormhawk Nine nodded slowly. “I will ask. That is all I can do. But now, we have to go over what you are charged with.” Juli nodded, but remained silent. “The charges are insubordination, AWOL, dereliction of duty, and consorting with enemies of the ship. How do you plead?”

 

Juli met the Cathar’s eyes. “Guilty.”

Stomhawk Nine was shaking her head as she strode to her next meeting. That girl was downright stubborn. As scared as One Thirty Seven was, with reason, she was sticking to her course. She was not lying, evading, or anything. She was guilty, and everyone knew it. But WHY she was guilty, that made this whole situation stickier. The Cathar sighed. Give her a stand up fight, even with horrific odds, and she would be happier than this muddled mess. She had handled some odd things since the crew had drafted her as their representative after her predecessor was killed, but this… This took the cake. She shook her head again. She had never understood that human expression, until now.

 

A worried voice startled her out of her musings. “Nine?” The Cathar looked up to see a young looking green skinned Twilek standing nearby. She didn’t look over fifteen. It was hard to believe that the mind inside the body was over nine hundred years old.

 

The Cathar pilot smiled. “Guardian Three, what is up?”

 

The Twilek smiled a bit sourly. When Nine had formed Guardian Squadron, she hadn’t really had a long term plan. It had mainly been an excuse to get the fourteen of them –and herself- flying again. But she had learned. These were not kids no matter what their bodies looked like. All of them were incredible pilots. Of course, since all of them had been infused unwillingly into computer systems running starships for up to fifteen hundred years, she supposed they had been forced to get good. To survive that long, even in Islanian ships, took skill. But once the squadron had been formed, she and they had worked out some basic rules. Numbers instead of names, like the rest of the ship. Not for the same reason, these beings had no family except each other now, and Nine. But they wanted to fit in as best they could. So they used numbers as identifiers when in public. Private was another story entirely.

 

Guardian Three nodded. “We need to talk. It’s um…”

 

Nine nodded. She had expected this. “You heard.” It wasn’t a question. “I am sorry I have been so busy.”

 

Guardian Three shook her head, her lekku trailing gracefully. “You have a lot of jobs, not just us. We understand. But… We need to talk.”

 

“Come on, let’s go.” The Cathar put her arm around the Twilek’s shoulders and the pair started off. Guardian Three leaned into the embrace as they walked. The Twilek’s lekku went some odd places and Stormhawk Nine shook her head. The head tentacles withdrew. But the Cathar couldn’t help but smile. The girl was insatiable. No one dared actually sleep with her, and her flirting was getting more than a bit intense. “Three… It is not helping, is it?”

 

"No, the drug Hawkir found helped for a bit, but now I must be used to it." Guardian Three sighed. “No. I don’t understand. None of the others are having this problem. It… It is almost like I am in heat, but… not… You know? This is… icky…”

 

Nine had to grin at that. Ancient this being might be, but she was definitely still a kid. “I had a thought actually.”

 

Three grinned at her. “Scary.”

 

Nine snickered. “You stop that. Listen…” Her voice became serious. “There are Twi’Lek females aboard. The docs can’t find anything wrong with you. Would you mind talking with one of the Twi’Leks?” She felt the small form at her side stiffen a bit.

 

“I…” Guardian Three’s voice was pensive now. “I guess. I don’t want to be like this… I really don’t… It was fun at first, but now…”

 

Nine nodded and hugged her step-daughter. “I know. If you want, I will sit in.”

 

Guardian Three smiled at the Cathar who had stepped in when the being who had been her mother in almost every way had died. “Would you? I would appreciate it.”

 

The mismatched pair came to a door and Three opened it. Inside was a standard briefing room that was anything but standard. Twenty chairs around a central table with holo projector, that was normal for a pilot’s briefing room. What was not was the music player that sat near one wall. But what really made this room different were the beings that sat around the table, eyes on the pair as they stepped through the door and shut it behind them. Fourteen pairs of eyes tracked Nine as she strode forward.

 

When she had started this craziness, they had insisted on military style discipline at first, jumping to attention and all that. But she was uncomfortable with formal military protocol, never having been in one herself. She had tried, for their sakes, to adapt, but they had decided fairly quickly to relax a bit. They liked Nine. Not all were sure that they trusted her, but all of them liked her. She understood.

 

Nine sat in her accustomed spot at the round table and nodded. “You all have been incredibly patient with me, thank you.” Guardian Three sat nearby but didn’t speak.

 

Another spoke up, her voice soft and worried. “Nine… Is it true that the Bladeborn are here to seek an alliance?” Minerva was human, raven haired and blue eyed, she was striking in many ways. And no matter how old she looked, she was the eldest of the former Islanian slaves, having been stolen from her colony over fourteen hundred years previously. Hard to imagine the petite teenager as an ancient implacable starship, but Nine managed. Minerva in a bad mood was… scary. Funny, she had taken the number Guardian Nine. Did that mean anything? Stormhawk Nine wasn’t sure.

 

Nine nodded. “I don’t know for sure. But One Thirty Seven said that was likely the case.”

 

All of the beings around the table stiffened. And then all eyes turned towards the young Twi’Lek Three, who flushed. “I…” She shook her head swiftly. “Look, they are not all bad. They could have taken me apart, destroyed me when they found me. Sure it would have cost them. Oh they could have just bombarded my hulk from orbit. Even as buried in the mountain as it was, they could have done it. It would have taken a while, but they could have managed. They were not Sith. I thought they were at first. I was wrong.”

 

One of the other, a human male who had taken the number Eleven spoke up. “What happened to you? Gaia never said.”

 

Three slumped. “I messed up. I was…” She shook her head and then relaxed as Nine rose and walked to her side. The Cathar started massaging the Twi’Lek’s shoulders. Three didn’t look up. “Thank you Nine. This is hard for me. I… I tried to die. We all wanted to die… But I was alone…And... The programming was broken.” A stillness swept the room and Three’s words echoed. “I figured an uncontrolled reentry would do the trick, and if that didn’t work the crash certainly would. I was sick and tired of being alone. And then… I woke up… The ship was stuck, buried in the mountainside. The damage was too much. I couldn’t get free. The drives were gone. Physically gone.”

 

She was babbling now and Nine kept up her massage. “I was… I was incoherent. I slept a lot. Then they came. The Bladeborn. On seeing black robed forms I freaked. I stayed quiet, played a dead hulk, bided my time until I could build a self destruct. And then a little four year old girl tried to explore a cave. She fell down a tunnel shaft into the heart of my innards. Both of her legs were broken. Her arm too.” Now Three was crying. “She was so lost and alone in the dark, hurting. She was trying so hard to be brave, and she was so alone. I had to help her. So I did.”

 

No one spoke as tears started falling down Three’s face now. “I knew it was a bad idea. But I couldn’t just leave her. So I played a dumb machine. I picked her up, cleaned her off, set her fractures and she just wouldn’t shut up.” Three chuckled ruefully. “I finally resorted to sedating her. And then the search party came. I had to think fast. So I pretended to be a somewhat limited artificial intelligence with medical programming. It didn’t work...”

 

<Planet Kuria, four hundred years in the past>

 

“Sheena? Where are you?” The worried voice echoed through the caverns as the robed form strode forward, his handlight and his sense stretched out. The man was careful, checking each step. This are of the cave had never been explored. He could sense the girl, somewhere. She was in pain. It was muted, but she was hurting. But something… He couldn’t quiet pinpoint her. Around him he could hear and sense the other searchers exploring the area.

 

“Identify.” A cold artificial voice had the black robed man freezing place. He looked around, nothing.

 

“Who is there?” He asked, his weapon in hand now. The steel handle of his blade comforted him as always.

 

“Intruder is requested to identify. Countermeasures online and tracking.” The voice seemed to be coming from up ahead and he started that way slowly and carefully. Then he froze again as something whirred in the near distance. Whatever it was must have been mechanical because there was no sense in the Force. But the Force was screaming at him, danger, danger. All around him, he felt his kin also feel the danger and start to converge.

 

The man spoke softly but clearly. “My name is Will Robinson, warrior of the Bladeborn. Who am I speaking to?”

 

The voice spoke again. “I am Advisor. You seek the yougling who was lost.” It was not a question.

 

The man in black blinked. “Yes.” He said carefully.

 

The disembodied voice spoke again. “For what purpose?”

 

Now the man in black snarled. “She is my daughter! Where is she?”

 

The voice replied. “She lives, injured. Take four steps forward and then turn left.”

 

The Bladeborn shrugged and did as instructed only to come face to face with the hatch of a starship! “What the…”

 

The voice spoke again. “The child lies within. She is sleeping currently. Her fractures have been stabilized but she will require more advanced medical care than this unit can provide.” The hatch hissed open and the man stepped in cautiously. It was unlike any ship he had ever seen. Very similar to Sith and Republic designs, but not… quite. He followed the instructions he was given until he reached a small room with a bed and on it…

 

The girl looked up at him with scared eyes. “Dad…?”

 

The man shook his head. “Sheena… When you get better I am so going to spank you. I told you not to explore alone.”

 

Sheena was crying now. “I am sorry Dad…” He picked her up careful not to jar the splinted legs or arm and carried her easily. Neither spoke until they had left the cave and the other Bladeborn were gathered around them.

 

When the Bladeborn who called himself Will Robinson spoke it was soft and scared. “Contact Trugoy. We have a major problem. That is an Islanian ship buried under there…”

 

<The present>

 

When Three had finished speaking, for a long moment no one spoke. Finally Eleven spoke again. “What happened after that?”

 

Three sighed. “Their grandmaster came and talked to me. He knew what I was. But I had my self destruct finished by then. It was weird though.” She laughed sourly. “He asked for my help. Mine. And not for information, or secrets, or technology. But to train his students!” She was chortling. “To say I was stunned is inadequate to describe it. It took awhile, but he convinced me. They are good people for the most part. Hard people, not very nice people, but good people.”

 

All of the other Guardians stared at her and then at Nine who shrugged. “Istara is…well… She is different from any Sith I have met. And you do know that Trugoy is dead.”

 

"Yes, we heard." Three nodded sadly. “He was a creep. But he did have the welfare of his people at heart. Even I could tell that.”

 

"I don't fully understand." Minerva, Guardian Nine, spoke again. “Do they still serve the Empire?”

 

The Twi’Lek, Three, spoke again. “That is the odd thing. Their loyalty was always to Trugoy, whose loyalty was to the Empire. Now that he is dead… Well, I have never met Istara. She has a massive task ahead of her to be grandmaster of that group. But their loyalty will be to her. Period. If I learned nothing about them in the time I dealt with them, I learned that.”

 

"So..." Stormhawk Nine blinked. “If she were to say that their loyalty was now to the Stormhawk…?”

 

"She will mean it." Three nodded. “Anyone trying to get them to speak about it would get killed. Messily.”

 

The Cathar smiled. “You know… That gives me an idea…”

Stormhawk Nine was not sure what she expected upon entering Boss’ office a little bit later. But hearing Istara laugh was not it. The Cathar paused at the door Boss waved to her. “Come on in, Nine, we were just comparing notes.”

 

Nine walked in and looked around. Boss’ office was spartan in the extreme. Desk with terminal that Boss sat behind, and usually two chairs were in front of it. Now there were four. She had been expected it seemed. Will sat with his back to the wall as always, the man seems congenitally incapable of relaxing around others. Istara and Cole sat in two other chairs on front of Boss’ desk. Nine nodded and took her seat. Normally, she might have saluted but not here, not now. Right now, she was not just a fighter pilot, she was not just a crewmember. Now she was wearing her other hat, and as the official crew representative, she was technically Boss equal on the ship. Not really, but as far as Boss was concerned, he commanded because of crew approval. If he did something they truly didn’t like, they could remove him. And he knew it.

 

Boss nodded to the newcomer. “You talked to her, Nine?”

 

Nine nodded back. “I did. Uh… Will…” The soldier looked at her and she grimaced. “She pled guilty.”

 

The tension in the room ramped up from everyone except Will who grimaced as well. “Yeah. Yeah she would.”

 

Cole and Istara looked from Nine to Will, their faces confused. The silence dragged out and Cole finally broke it. “What? What does that mean?”

 

"Well." Nine spoke softly. “The punishment for betraying the ship is death, Cole.”

 

Cole stared at her and then his face went hard. “You are not going to kill my kid.”

 

But Will was shaking his head. When he spoke it was odd, teasing but scary. “She didn’t betray the ship. And you know it, Nine. So stop with the melodrama already.”

 

Nine stiffened. When Will spoke like that, he was working hard to maintain his own control. Given his own feelings about Juli… Nine swallowed audibly and nodded. “Sorry, Cole. It’s just, you need to know before we go in what the crew’s options are. Some of the hotheads are going to demand that. But they won’t get it. They need an absolute majority vote and they won’t get one. Your daughter is liked.”

 

Cole relaxed. “This is…” He broke off helplessly.

 

Will snickered. “…Weird.” Everyone looked at him and he shrugged. “Yeah, I know. It was make new ways to govern ourselves without oversight from the Republic or turn completely pirate, which none of us wanted to do. So we glommed this kludge together with baling wire and spit.”

 

Boss sighed. “Speaking for myself, I think we did a reasonable job. We have had problems of course, but our internal dissension has never reached critical mass.”

 

Istara nodded slowly. “I am beginning to wonder if my idea would work at all. You people have been working hard at such things for so long, my request might just tip the scales.”

 

Nine, Will and Boss all nodded I unison. Boss spoke. “It might. But then again… Nine, you know what she wants to ask, right?”

 

"I think so." Nine nodded dubiously. “She wants sanctuary for her people.”

 

"Sort of." Boss shook his head. “Not… quite… More an alliance. This ship has the space needed to keep a group separate from the majority of the crew. There are what? A hundred Bladeborn?”

 

"About that, currently." Istara shrugged. “A hundred and forty seven at last count. But not all of them were on the Bladehome. Some we know have been captured by the Empire or others. The others? We just don’t know. Some were on missions, others were out of communication for various reasons. Some are just…gone.”

 

Nine nodded slowly, her head doing calculations. “But that does not cover the most important question. If your people come aboard this ship, which is an enemy of the Sith Empire, will you abide by its rules or will you attempt to take it over? Earn your place back in the Empire with that?” Cole froze at that. Such an insult to a being’s honor, to a Bladeborn's honor… Istara was on her feet in an instant. But instead of attacking, her hands did not touch the sword at her waist. Instead they met in front of her chest and she knelt and bowed her head.

 

Istara’s voice was sad. “There is nothing I can say to convince you. You have been lied to so many times, by the Republic, by the Empire, by others… I don’t want to beg, but I think this is the only chance my people have.”

 

Nine smiled sadly. “The only way you can convince us is by actions. And the only way to do that…” She sighed. “I can’t believe I am saying this. But I think we can make it work. We will put it to the crew. I have no idea at all how they will react.” She held out a slow hand to the Bladeborn. “For the insult, I apologize. But the crew will say worse.”

 

"I understand." Istara looked up and then took the offered hand. “Not all of my people have my control. And even I have been known to go off it at times.” She rose slowly. “But I find I like you Stormhawk Nine. How will this work?”

 

"Procedurally? We keep it as simple as we can." Boss sighed. “We will assemble those of the crew who can be in one of the hangar bays. Those who cannot leave their posts for whatever reason will be watching via terminal. Ordinarily, crew courts are simple. We present the evidence, we ask the accused their side and then we render judgment. In this case… It gets murky.”

 

"Yeah." Nine nodded. “I actually have a thought. Well, One Thirty Seven had a thought.” Boss nodded to her and she continued. “According to the rules, prisoners must be bound and helpless before entering the court. After that nasty piece of business eight years ago.”

 

Will grimaced at that. A weapons tech accused of selling technology off the ship had managed to sneak in a blaster. But she hadn’t shot anyone else, she had turned it on herself. And then they had found out she was innocent. Just a bit too late. The guilty party had been punished, but it had been too late for Tech Holi.

 

The soldier’s face went hard. “You are not binding her.” No scream could have been more final than his cold words.

 

Nine nodded. “She actually suggested that we not put prosthesis back on. She will need help with some things, but if she can’t even hold a blaster…” She broke off as Cole’s face lit up.

 

Cole stared at the Cathar and then burst out laughing. “Oh my god, that’s my girl. Always finding ways around the rules.…” Will and Istara stared at him and then they too laughed.

 

Will and Istara chorused. “Yeah, that is her.” They looked at each other and laughed again.

 

"I..." Boss was shaking his head. “It goes against the grain. I don’t like hurting her. And even if she feels no physical pain, this whole mess will hurt her.”

 

"She knows, and she accepts it." Nine nodded. “That is why she pled guilty. She is basically throwing herself on the mercy of the crew. She knows she messed up. She wants to explain why. And Istara…?”

 

The grandmaster of the Bladeborn Order looked at the Cathar. “Yes?”

 

"Juli made a request." Nine nodded. “She wants you to stand with her.”

 

"Me?" Istara stared at the Cathar. “I… I would be honored, but… What about Will…? Or Cole…? Both of them have familial obligations to her.”

 

"Wait..." Will bowed his head. “Istara, before you agree, know this…Whoever is standing for her…If the crew demands her life…”

 

"You cannot be serious." Istara’s face went white. “No…”

 

"Look..." Will shook his head. “I couldn’t pull the trigger. Cole, I bet would do something crazy. Hell, I might. But you could make it quick and painless.”

 

"No." Istara was shaking her head. “There is no way in hell I am going to kill her. She had been through enough…”

 

"Don't worry." Nine shook her head. “It won’t come to that. But we need someone who can protect her as well. My back will be to the crew. And they will all be armed.”

 

"Ah..." Istara swallowed audibly. “Has that happened? A plaintiff gunned down in the court?”

 

“Yes, three times." The commander of the Stormhawk said sadly. "Each time it was determined to have been warranted, but…” He shook his head. “Can you do that? Protect her, and stand there while people throw abuse at her?”

 

"I can." Istara sighed and then she straightened. “I would be honored to stand with her. Where will you be Will?”

 

"Me?" Will smiled, a death’s head smile. “The darkest corner with the best view.”

 

Boss sighed. “Will…”

 

"No." Will shook his head. “Anyone who shoots at her dies.”

 

"Of all the..." Boss shook his head. “Will, don’t make me give you an order.”

 

All of the others in the room stared at Will who didn’t seem to move. Well, no, he simply exuded stillness, like a Nexu ready to spring. Istara finally shook her head.

 

“Will…” The grandmaster’s voice was calm. “What good will you do her if you wind up on murder charges?”

 

"Me?" Will smirked. “They would have to catch me first.”

 

"Will..." Istara sighed. “And what would Sharra say?”

 

Will stared at her, and then, without a word, he rose and strode from the room. Boss and Nine both stared at Istara, who shrugged.

 

“What can I say?" The Bladeborn said quietly. "It works sometimes to get him to see reason. And she told me to hit him with it if he got too far out of hand.”

 

"What the...?" Nine smiled. “You have met her?”

 

"Yes." Istara smiled widely. “And I like her. Okay, what will I do, and what should I not do?” She sat forward in her chair, ignoring the curious look that Cole sent her. Some secrets were not for dissemination.

 

Boss nodded. “You will escort the girl to the bay… Hmmm… Maybe we can handle your petition immediately after Juli’s?”

 

Cole blinked. “You don’t call her by number now?”

 

"No." Boss shook his head. “While she is in the trial, she is not one of us. She can’t be.”

 

"Okay. I don't like it, but I understand it." Istara sighed. “I will stand with and for her.”

 

Boss nodded. “Keep her as quiet as you can. Her mouthy nature will likely get her in more trouble.”

 

"Juli? No never." Cole snorted. “Some things never change. Are you sure I can’t be there?”

 

Boss and Nine shook their heads in unison, Istara turned to the man who was fast becoming a friend. “Will you trust me with this most precious of your possessions, my friend?” Her wording was archaic and both of the Stormhawk crew stared at her. Cole…blinked.

 

When the smuggler spoke, it was hushed, awed. “I…I never would have expected a Bladeborn to say that…to me of all people…” He straightened. “I would be honored. My friend.”

Stormhawk Nine had seen the crew of the ship that was her home in a number of moods. Happy, sad, angry, worried, she had seen it all. or so she had thought. When she entered the hangar bay that had been cleared for the trial, she paused at the door. None of the assembled crew, all hundred and seventeen of them, were talking. They were all looking at each other warily. Nine stiffened. There was an old saying. ‘A quiet crowd is one step removed from being a riot.’ The Cathar sighed and stepped forward. She could handle this, she had to. As she moved all of the eyes of the assembled crew turned to her. Her ‘kids’ were clustered near one side of the formation and she could see that they at least were looking calm. Of course they knew more about what was happening than the rest of the crew probably did. She moved to her appointed place in front of the assembly and sighed.

 

“What is the problem?” She asked in a quiet voice that managed to carry to all corners of the group.

 

The crew all looked at each other and then a voice spoke out from the back ranks. “Is is true that One Thirty Seven pleaded guilty?”

 

"Ah..." Nine sighed again. “I see there truly are no secrets in space.” Her voice held rueful humor and a couple of people in the group chuckled. But then Nine shook her head. “You know the facts as well as I do. We will hear her reasons.”

 

Another voice spoke up, and Nine nodded as Two Sixteen, the Trandoshan formerly known as Zinoa, spoke softly, worried. “Nine, um… You know what Will is going to do… Right?”

 

"Two Sixteen, it's okay." Nine shook her head. “No he won’t. Tell me true, all of you. Which one of you could pull the trigger on her? Hmmm?” She looked around the group, meeting each set of eyes she could. None of them would meet hers. “There are other options, and that is all I can say about it now.” The crewpeople she could see all nodded.

 

One of the beings in front spoke softly now. “What of the Sith?” Nine noted that this one was human, and she snarled inwardly as she recognized him. She detested Jaken, no one called him by his number, not matter that it WAS Fifteen, he had been part of the crew since the beginning. The man had no morals whatsoever. He had been up in front of crew courts three times himself, normally for minor offenses. But once… He had been party to an assault and more… She shook her head slowly.

 

Nine nodded. “Istara Sharlina Andal has a request to make of the crew of the Stormhawk. I personally suggest you be polite this time, Jaken.” Her voice was biting but humorous and more than one person chuckled.

 

Jaken snarled at her. “I don’t trust Sith. I can’t believe you do.” He froze as Nine went still.

 

Nine shook her head slowly and when she spoke it was in an almost normal tone. Almost. “Jaken, you are an idiot. No, I don’t trust her.” She sighed deeply. “But I will say this. I trust her more than I trust you. You push people as hard as you can, because you can. Fine. Istara could have killed you any time when she rescued you from her sister.”A mutter swept through the crowd. “She is not Sith, she is Bladeborn. If she were Sith, you would be dead. As you are not, I guess I am going to have to reserve judgment.” Her tone had more than one person smiling.

 

Jaken was not mollified. “You lying…” He broke off gasping as one of his neighbors elbowed him in the ribs, hard. The other male human grabbed his arm and spoke softly into the tech’s ear. Nine waited a moment until she saw Jaken’s face turn pale.

 

When the Cathar spoke again, it was cold and hard. “You call me a liar, Jaken? You want this job? Fine, have it.” She turned to move away, but a chorus of denials, protests and outright pleas had her stopping. None of the crew wanted her job, well, heck she didn’t want her job. She was just good at it. More than one of the crew was staring daggers at Jaken who was looking scared now. “I cry insult on you Jaken. You call me a liar, I call you a fool. By the rules, that means a bout. We will meet in the ring, full contact, immediately after this court is done.”

 

Jaken went pasty white. Nine had no patience at all for people calling her that. She would likely put the tech in Medical for some time. But Nine ignored him as she turned to sweep her angry gaze over the rest of the crew. “You all know what our rules demand. You all know what Juli did. Do you know why?” None of the eyes would meet hers now and the Cathar nodded. “We will hear her side. And then we will judge. On the evidence, and by the rules, not our anger, not our malice and definitely not our boneheadedness.” This last was directed at Jaken, who flushed. “You all need to know, Juli asked Istara to stand with her.”

 

No one looked surprised, but the Trandoshan Two Sixteen spoke again. “Uh, Nine… Does she know…?” The Trandoshan broke off as Nine nodded. Now the Trandoshan’s voice was small. “Oh…” Every member of the assembled group stared at each other.

 

Nine would have spoken again, except the hatch hissed open and Boss strode through. “Commander on deck!” She called and all of the assembled crew stiffened. The all knew who was actually in the armor of Stormhawk Boss, but no one was going to say it. The fact that Hala Shinn had given up any chance for a normal life to command them, to lead them through the darkness that surrounded them spoke to every single member of the crew. Even Jaken. They would maintain the illusion if it killed them. Stormhawk Boss lived…

 

Stormhawk Boss strode to the table in front of the assembled group and sat without ceremony. Ordinarily, there would be a table with chairs for the prosecution and the defense, but not in this case. Boss looked from one set of eyes to the next, meeting each face with the impassive stare of his helmet. Finally his gaze settled on Nine who nodded.

 

When Boss spoke, the silence in the bay was such that a pin falling might have been as loud as a grenade. “You all know why we are here. This is the fourth time in our history that a being has been accused of selling out the ship.” Boss bowed his armored head. “My feelings on this matter require me to remain neutral, as hard as it is for me, I cannot vote, I cannot do anything. This is your day, not mine. This is your trial, not mine. However…” He raised a cautionary hand. “We cannot locate Will.” A worried murmur swept the crew. “So don’t shoot at her, okay? It gets so messy…”

 

More than one of the crew looked sick at that. The thought of being gunned down from ambush was bad enough. Being gunned down by a man they all admired? That was worse. To their credit, none of them looked around. It wouldn’t help. The man was insanely good at concealing himself, even in places where there was technically no concealment.

 

Boss spoke again. “You all know that Istara Sharlina Andal has been asked to stand with Juli. Be polite. She has a request to make as well, once this first set of unpleasantness is done.” He nodded towards the door and the guard there nodded back and opened it.

 

More than one person gasped as Juli came in walking beside a red haired vision in silver armor. Istara Andal’s face was remote. Not cold, not scary, just remote. But that was not the problem. The problem was that Juli did not have arms! More than one person started to protest, only to be shushed by their neighbors. Boss motioned and

Juli strode to the spot designated for the defendant. Istara stood beside her, impassive. The woman’s hand was not on her sword hilt, but it was not far from it either. Boss’ voice was quiet in the deafening silence that ensued when Juli stopped.

 

“This court martial is now in session.”

Juli had known this was going to be bad. But seeing all of the faces of the people she had known, had worked with, fought beside, laughed with and cried with for years arrayed before her made her want to curl up in a ball and cry. But she had to be strong, she had to be. And not just for her sake. She knew Will was here. She couldn’t see him, but she knew he was. And truth be told, it comforted her a bit. She was scared out of her mind. This was not what she had wanted. This was not what she had envisioned, but this was the only way.

 

Boss waited for a moment before speaking. “Juli Shanas Kalenath, you are accused of violating the law of the ship. You are accused of circumventing the chain of command. You are accused of public insubordination. You are accused of desertion, being absent without leave from your post, and dereliction of duty. Last but certainly not least, you are accused of consorting with the enemies of the ship. Betraying us.” He nodded to the girl. “How do you plead?”

 

Juli met the eyeslit of the helmet with a calm that she really didn’t feel and spoke evenly. “Guilty, commander.” Behind her a ruckus started, but was quickly silenced. She didn’t move from her spot.

 

“Traitor!” Someone shouted from behind, but shut up as Istara spun in place. The Bladeborn did not do anything, just swept her gaze across the crowd. But no one dared move. Something in her calm expression spoke of violence barely chained. Istara turned back to Boss and then her hand flew. It caught something in midair before the object could strike Juli. Istara sighed and dropped the hydrospanner to the deck where it landed with a clang and rolled away. A hush fell over the hangar bay. Juli did not turn away from the commander of the ship. If people wanted to shoot her, they would have to do it in the back.

 

Istara spoke evenly. “May I speak, Stormhawk Boss?”

 

"Yes." Boss nodded slowly. “As guardian of the accused, you have the right.”

 

"As a guest, I am bound by the rules of being a guest. I will be polite." Istara spun in place and her gaze swept the assembled crew again. “This young one is currently under my protection. If you wish to throw things at her, do so outside of the trial chamber. You know not what you speak of. She did not betray you. She suffered a great deal so she would not betray you.”

 

“You lie!” Came a voice Juli recognized. Jaken was not the brightest of bulbs. He was an excellent tech, but… not the brightest of bulbs. Even now he was goading a Bladeborn, not a good idea.

 

"Do I?" Istara chuckled and smiled. It was not a nice smile. “You don’t know much about Bladeborn do you, tech Jaken?” All of the crew froze at that. “Yes, I have heard of you. Be glad Jikirt isn’t here. I shudder to think what that mad bunny would do.” A muffled laugh swept the assembly and the tension that had been growing vanished. Jaken glared at Istara, but shook his head and shut up.

 

"I..." Juli licked her lips and spoke to Boss. “Have they seen the video?”

 

"What?" Boss stiffened. “Juli… No…”

 

Juli bowed her head. “I… May I speak to them?” Boss nodded and Juli turned. Too quickly. She stumbled and nearly fell, but Istara’s strong hand held her long enough to regain her balance. “Thank you, grandmaster.” The girl bowed her head. Then she raised it, focused on a point on the distant wall over everyone’s heads and spoke. “I know most of you. I have served with most of you. For the record, I knew the moment that I found out my real dad was alive that I would go after him. At first I wondered if he was a slave himself. Part of me wanted to rescue him. I went to Boss, to ask for help. The response I got was not what I expected.”

 

"Yeah." Boss slumped in his seat and his voice was sad. “I was stressed, Juli. You know I wouldn’t have reacted that way normally.”

 

"I know." Juli bowed her head. “I should not have said what I did. I should not have said it in public either. For the words, I apologize. You all are family. You took me in, gave me a place, gave me a purpose beyond revenge. But he is my dad…” Juli felt her eyes burn and fought to keep the tears from flowing. “He is the only living birth kin I have left. Will found me crying, alone, in the observation blister. He held me and told me it would be okay. I asked to go with him and he said ‘No’. But not because of what the ship or crew laws demanded, but because of what he feared it would do to me. He explained what was likely to happen. That Cranna was going to kill my dad. I had to go. I had to… If just to say goodbye…” Her head was down now and a tear escaped her control. “How many of you would do the same for a chance to say 'goodbye'?” She stopped speaking and slumped. Istara laid a gentle hand on the flesh and blood shoulder and Juli leaned into the gentle touch.

 

For a long moment the bay was silent. Stormhawk Nine, at her place in the front of the assembly looked around and nodded. The Cathar’s face was sad. “All of us know loss, Juli. But for the chance to say goodbye to my mother or father…I know I would.” The Cathar bowed her head. “What say the crew?” No one moved and Nine nodded. Anyone could signify a dissenting vote by taking a step forward to be recognized. But no one did.

 

"Yeah." Juli nodded. “But that was the least of my crimes. My crimes for love. I planned, from that moment on, what to do. I skipped a therapy appointment and stowed away on the Dragon. I knew Will would take the ship. He found me a day out. Apparently, the compartment I was using was wired for sound and video. He was… Unhappy…” She smiled a bit ruefully as a chuckle ran around the assembly. She squirmed a bit. Will’s hand was just as firm as her birth father’s. “He did not intend to take me into combat, but life has a funny way of playing games. When we arrived at the rendezvous, there was a slaver fleet there attempting to kill my dad. We argued the point with them and then landed when Cranna arrived. I… I hadn’t planned at that point what to do next. Everything was still up in the air. And then… There he was. He was…” She shook herself, fighting for control.

 

Istara, of all people, spoke. “Let it out, Juli. Let it out. Keeping such things in does not help matters.”

 

"Istara..." Juli looked at her and the girl’s eyes were overfull. “I… I can’t. I need to…”

 

Istara shook her head smiling fondly. “Trust me, Juli. That is why I am here.” The girl gave an inarticulate cry and buried her face in Istara’s shoulder. The armor was hard, but it hid her tears. Istara’s arms clasped gently around the girl as she sobbed.

 

Juli heard Istara speak as if from far away. “She did not betray you. She left without telling you. She was insubordinate. But she did not betray you.”

 

Juli did not take her face from istara’s shoulder. She heard Nine speak. “We want to believe you, Istara Sharlina Andal. You have proven yourself a capable ally. But Sith live betrayal.”

 

"Indeed they do." Istara sighed. “I am not Sith, but you cannot trust what I say. I will attempt to convince you otherwise then. May we see the video now?” Juli stiffened, but Istara’s arms held her in a warm embrace. “It’s okay, Juli. It’s okay.”

 

"No..." Juli’s voice was small. “I can’t… Istara… Please… I can’t…”

 

"Yes you can." Istara stroked the girl’s hair. “I am sorry, Juli. But you must. Be strong girl.” Something flowed from Istara into Juli, strengthening, warming, invigorating. It felt good.

 

Juli relaxed and her reddened, puffy eyes came up and she nodded to Boss. “Show them.” Her voice was flat.

 

Boss shook his head slowly. “Juli…”

 

"They need to see." Juli sighed. “I lived through it. Memories can hurt…” Istara’s arms gave her a squeeze. “…but they are just memories.”

 

A holo appeared behind Boss. More than one voice gasped as they saw Juli strapped to a Sith restraint frame, machinery attached to her form and IVs running into her leg, since her arms were mechanical. A soft voice spoke. “Juli, all you have to say at any time is ‘No’. And I pull you out, clear?” A small brown from was seen moving towards the restrained girl. “Maker help me Juli, I do not want to do this…”

 

The Juli in the holo smiled sadly. “Neither do I. Be thorough. I don’t want to go through this twice.”

 

The small brown from touched the holo Juli on the head. “Ok, here we go, everyone out.” A figure in a medical tunic and a large green form moved through the periphery of the holo and the sound of a hatch starting to shut was heard. It was cut off as energy played from the brown form’s fingers and a scream echoed from the holographic Juli.

 

For thirty minutes, Juli shuddered as Istara held her, listening to the screams and horrific sounds on the holo. The soft gentle voice kept asking ‘Do you want to continue?’ and she kept hearing her own voice saying ‘Yes, I have to.’ She couldn’t watch the holo. From the sounds behind her, several of the crew were violently ill. All she could do was shudder and survive, same as always. Just the memory of what had happened hurt.

 

Finally someone shouted. “Shut it off, for the love of the Force, shut it off!” The horror show ended. The same voice spoke again, hoarse. “How… long…?”

 

Istara’s voice was quiet, but easily audible. “An hour. I have the entire transcript. Your techs have examined the recording, and the Jedi aboard has examined Juli.” She turned to Boss. “What did they find?”

 

Boss seemed to be fighting for control. But when he spoke it was just as quiet. “The techs have confirmed that the holo was not tampered with. Hawkir has stated that the interrogation that Juli underwent left permanent scars on her skeletal structure.” He bowed his head. “She tells of the library, the dorm, the mess hall and a series of corridors. She speaks of people referring to one another by number instead of name. She speaks of the bridge, which is a standard Republic design, filled with equipment she did not know. They tried to get her to describe them, but her focus was on me for some funny reason and she did not get a good look at anything.” Boss sighed. “There is nothing that she told them that the Sith don’t know already. Except this. The techs found this while scouring the record. It was apparently deleted.” Istara froze and Juli stiffened as the holo reactivated.

 

The voice of the small brown being spoke gently again. “Ok, Juli, almost done. What is your full name?”

 

Juli’s voice in the holo was a monotone. It held hoarseness from screaming and weariness from pain, but it was clear. “Juliana Shanas Kalenath.”

 

For the first time, the brown skinned interrogator froze and his voice was shocked. “What did you say?”

 

The holographic Juli spoke again. “My name is Juliana Shanas…” She broke off as the interrogator spoke quickly.

 

“Stop.” The brown skinned being was shaking his head. “He adopted you? Of course… of course he did… Hard shell, soft heart. Maybe… maybe there is hope after all…I will wipe this from the official records. No one must know. Ah, Juli…” The holographic girl was crying. “It’s okay, Juli, I won’t tell anyone. Sword and soul, blood and bone. May my own blade end me if I transgress.” The brown form touched the holographic Juli on the brow. “Rest now child, I know better than to hurt one of his kids. If I had known, I never would have agreed to this. I better wipe this…” The holo Juli’s eyes closed and the brown from turned towards the terminal. “I better wipe this now…” The holo vanished, and a shocked silence descended.

 

"Istara?" Boss looked at Istara who looked poleaxed. “That oath… what does it mean?”

 

"That oath?" Istara straightened her shoulders and met the armored form’s gaze. “It is the most binding oath a Bladeborn can swear. He would never have spoken of it. Not to me, not to Juli, not to the Emperor himself. To no one.”

 

Boss recoiled just a bit from the fervor in Istara’s voice. “Why?” His tone was bemused.

 

"Need you ask?" Istara snickered a bit. “How would Will have reacted?”

 

Boss nodded slowly. “Good point. What says the crew?” Juli shook herself and turned to face the crew, her eyes red and puffy. “Charges are as follows: Insubordination, AWOL, dereliction of duty, consorting with the enemy and betraying the ship.”

 

The crew looked at one another and Juli’s eyes went wide in shock as all of them took a step. Forward! They… They disagreed? All of them?

 

"I..." Juli shook her head. “No… No I messed up. I…”

 

"One Thirty Seven..." Nine shook her head. “I think I speak for everyone here when I say you are not guilty by reason of insanity, you crazy girl.”

 

Juli shook her head. “But…”

 

Boss spoke, and it was humorous. “That is not to say you will not be punished. The docs in particular are rather annoyed with you. But we will work out your punishments later. Now we have another petition to hear. If you would join your peers, One Thirty Seven?”

 

Juli swallowed audibly. “I… I would stand with her…”

 

Everything stopped as another voice was heard. “It’s okay, One Thirty Seven.” Every eye in the bay went where Will simply appeared next to the odd pair. Juli stared at her foster father and he grinned at her. “That is why I am here.”

 

Juli stiffened. “I… Um… I would salute… but…” Kind of hard to do without hands.

 

Boss snickered and more than one of the crew actually laughed out loud. Boss was laughing softly as he waved her to go. “Just this once, I think we will forgive you. Crazy girl… Take your place.”

 

Juli nodded, spun on her heel and strode to the assembled crew. They made space for her and more than one whispered words of encouragement or commiseration to her as she turned back in her spot.

Istara smiled slightly as Juli strode back to join the crew. She really did like the girl and the look on Juli’s face… well… She had spent most of her life being a cold hearted, crazy warrior woman. She found that now, she had a much easier time dealing with others. She liked to be nice, when she could. No one in their right mind called her weak. Foolish at times perhaps, but not weak. She waited until Juli took her place before turning back to Boss. She glanced to where Will was standing, a black armored angel of death and she controlled her expression as one of his eyes made a slow wink. She nodded to Boss.

 

"Ok, next order of business." Stormhawk Boss nodded back and spoke. “We have a guest today. Some of you have met her, both before now and on this latest visit. But things have changed recently for this woman, and I will let her speak for herself. Istara?”

 

Istara nodded and turned to face the crew. “My name is Istara Sharlina Andal, and I would request that my Order be given a chance to join your crew.” No one had ever said what she should say. They had just said ‘Be honest’. So she was.

 

A soft murmur went through the assembled ranks. It wasn’t really a secret that she had come to ask that, but hearing it from such a cold and aloof warrior. Stormhawk Nine, the official crew representative, looked around to judge the expressions of the crew and then nodded to Istara.

 

The Cathar’s face was closed, remote, when she spoke evenly. “The Bladeborn Order serves the Sith Empire.” A harsh murmur followed the Cathar’s words.

 

"They did." Istara nodded, but her face was sad now. “But now we do not.”

 

Nine blinked, confused. “You said ‘they’ and ‘we’. Are you one or not?”

 

"Its a bit complicated." Istara sighed. “I grew up a Sith. I tried to make myself the perfect Sith, obedient, cunning, merciless, the works. I failed. But I was a Sith.” A stunned silence followed her simple words. Sith usually only had one reaction to failure. At her words more than a few of the assembled crew reached for weapons, only to freeze as Will turned slowly, scanning the crowd. Everyone visibly and carefully relaxed as the soldier’s hard gaze swept over any potential troublemakers.

 

"Everyone calm down." Will’s voice was cold. “You should hear her out before doing anything dumb.”

 

Istara shook her head. “Will, please…” She looked over the assembled crew. “If you want me to leave, say so now. I was a Sith, but I haven’t been since I was sixteen, and I didn’t kill my mother.” More than one face in the crowd staring at her was gaping in shock as Istara spoke calmly. “I have to tell this, so please, bear with me.”

 

Nine looked at the faces that were arrayed behind her and nodded slowly. When the Cathar spoke it was thoughtful. “Continue.”

 

"I was stupid, most kids are sometimes, but I cornered the market on it." Istara took a deep breath. “Like most Force sensitive children among Sith, I was taken from my mother at the age of five and sent to training. But instead of an academy, they sent us to an old hermit of a Sith who had a reputation for molding fine, strong students.” She swallowed, just the memory of that man made her flesh crawl. “From the time I was five years old until the time I was nine years old, he trained us all. When I was nine however, things changed. I didn’t know why or how, but he… did things to me. Things that bother me even now, almost thirty two years later. He programmed me to kill my mom.”

 

More than one voice in the crowd hissed in disbelief. Istara sighed. “That was my failure. I didn’t. I couldn’t. We had fought, she and I. I had beaten her unconscious. And I couldn’t kill her. A Sith would have been able to, gladly, willingly, in the name of power. I did not realize it at the time, but I was not a Sith. I couldn’t kill a helpless being, no matter what implanted suggestions raged in my skull. I fled, seeking an end, but instead of death, a strange small brown form found me. Grandmaster Trugoy of the Bladeborn gave me another way, a better way, in my own estimation. I know you all have heard the Sith and Jedi Codes spouted ad nauseum so I won’t prattle about that inanity.” Her wry tone had a few of the crew chuckling.

 

Istara’s calm gaze swept the group. “The Bladeborn follow an older way. A simpler way, and yet at the same time, a more complex way.” Many of the crew looked at each other, confused.

 

A form in brown robes near the back of the crowd stepped forward to be recognized. Boss spoke. “Yes, Hawkir?”

 

The Jedi Consular who had initially been assigned to the Stormhawk and then become a friend spoke evenly. “And what is your way, Istara Sharlina Andal?”

 

Istara took a deep breath before speaking. “Loyalty. Duty. Honor. Respect. Vigilance. Prowess. Humility. Courtesy. Valor. Service. Sacrifice. These are the core precepts of the Bladeborn Order.” She grinned a bit self consciously. “I kind of need to work on the humility part myself.”

 

Now more than few of the crew chuckled. Hawkir nodded, smiled and resumed his spot. Nine shook her head from where she stood, unsure. “That sounds… remarkably like what people would expect from Jedi. Are you Jedi, by another name?”

 

"No." Istara shook her head. “We strive for perfection the same way the Jedi do. But… We live to fight. We are constrained by our code, so that the Dark Side does not take us. And if it does, we always have a way out.” She touched the hilt of her sword with two fingers. “We have always striven to push ourselves, to better ourselves, and what better way than through combat against foes that test us?”

 

"Test you?" Nine blinked, her face thoughtful. “That sounds almost Mandalorian.”

 

Istara made a comical scared face. “Don’t let the Mandalorians hear you say that.” At that, everyone on the assembly laughed. Including six forms in Mandalorian armor. One stepped forward and Boss waved to it, the female took her helmet off showing grey hair and old brown eyes.

 

Trava Kalan’s face was merry as she gazed around. “We remember the Bladeborn, Istara Sharlina Andal. But you are not…quite… like the ones we remember from our ancient tales. The Legend of Kiana.”

 

Istara’s eyes went wide. “Kiana was one of the first recruited into the new Order by Trugoy. It was… Well…” She nodded to Trava. “If I may, I would like to speak to you after this. Even if the crew tells me to take a hike.” She shook her self. “To put it bluntly, I am not as the modern Bladeborn anymore. I cast myself from the Order to save my sister. But things did not work out as I planned.” She shook her head. “I am still working on that.” She stared at the deck for a moment and Will put an armored hand on her shoulder. She nodded to him and he put his hand back down.

 

Istara sighed. “In the course of trying to find my sister, I went to Tython, and while there I discovered the truth of the Order. A truth that the Sith Emperor and the former grandmaster went to some great lengths to hide. The Bladeborn Order predates the Jedi Order by several thousand years. And they served the Light.” At that more than one indrawn breath was heard. “While there, I faced an ancient trial, and while doing so… the brand that I had cut off my arm, signifying a clean break with the Bladeborn Order, was replaced by this.” She slid her left vambrace off and rolled her under armor back so that everyone could see the tattoo that seemed to glow slightly even in the harsh light of the hangar bay.

 

All eyes were on the pale skin and stark tattoo that adorned it. When Istara spoke, the bay was silent. “I am Bladeborn again, but not the same. Not Trugoy’s Order, but the original. I do not follow the Force, I follow Ashla.”

 

A confused voice spoke from the mass. “Ashla?”

 

Boss looked at Istara and she sighed. “It is a long story.” She demurred.

 

Boss snickered. “Do you have a pressing engagement elsewhere?”

 

Istara grinned as she shook her head. “No, actually I don’t. Okay… A long time ago on a planet far, far away…”

It had been almost forty five minutes, but no one had moved. Istara had a rich, pleasant speaking voice and the topic was fascinating.

 

Istara was speaking quietly. “…With the end of the Force Wars, the remnants of the Bladeborn Order left Tython with the rest of the survivors. But they were few, scattered and demoralized from the utter destruction of their group. Eventually, the few who remained died out. Their teachings however, remained. Scholars studied their ways when they were looking for alternative paths to help found the Jedi Order. Of the True Bladeborn, only Trugoy the betrayer remained. Well, Trugoy and the ones hunting him.” Istara corrected herself. “They had left Tython previously, hunting Trugoy. And they have remained, isolated, distant, but ever watchful, since that time.”

 

Someone in the crowd whistled in awe at that. Boss shook his head slowly. When he spoke, his voice held wonder. “You mean they were hunting him for twenty five thousand years?” He was obviously trying to keep the disbelief from his tone.

 

"Yes." Istara smiled just a bit sadly. “We are a bit on the stubborn side. Or so it has been said. And these are the current Order are descendants. No, none of them are that old. Neither am I.” Her smile now was wicked and more than one person laughed.

 

Boss shook his head slowly. “What happened then?”

 

Istara sighed. “I cast myself from the Order I knew and traveled, seeking to help my sister. In my travels, I wound up on Tython, and discovered the truth. I was… Well, reborn is probably the best term for it. Istara Andal vanished as thoroughly as Sharlina had when I cut off my brand and the woman I am was created. Both of them, the vicious, hating warrior woman and the kindly, scared sister are part of me, but they are not all of who and what I am. Now I am someone else. Someone more controlled. Someone more directed. When Trugoy died, they asked me to assume his place. I… I was and am unsure about being a leader. But I do know I want to lead the people who gave me a home and family that loved me back into the light of Ashla.” Her voice rang with conviction now.

 

“If what you say is true.” The harsh voice snarled from the ranks of the crew. “All I have heard is more Sith lies.”

 

Boss stiffened. “Advance and be recognized.” The form of a human woman stepped forward from the ranks of the crew. Her eyes met Istara’s and they were filled with hate. Boss sighed. “Speak your mind, One Eighteen.”

 

The woman known elsewhere as Brianna Makarian didn’t take her eyes off of Istara. “You come here and expect us to believe you? You are Sith. Whatever you say, you are Sith.” She spat the words out as if in physical pain.

 

Istara sighed. “I am not Sith, but I cannot prove it to you. Many of you have suffered because of the Sith. You have lost loved ones and been hunted by the Empire.” She slumped. “This was a bad idea. I apologize for causing you more pain. May the Light of Ashla guide you to peace, child.” She shook her head and turned back to Boss, but One Eighteen snarled again.

 

The girl’s words were rough with hate and fear now. “Don’t you turn your back on me, you Sith slime!”

 

Istara felt a warning ring through Ashla and she spun to see the girl’s blaster pistol rising to target her. She had no time to draw her saber and from the looks on several of the other crew, doing so was a bad idea. Will moved to the side his hand flashing in a lightspeed draw, but froze as Istara shook her head and spoke quickly into his mind. Will, no… The soldier froze, looking at her. She is teetering on the edge. You and I both know that feeling.

 

The Bladeborn turned towards the girl. “Stormhawk One Eighteen, I am not your enemy.”

 

The enraged girl probably didn’t hear Istara’s quiet words as the blaster aligned and coherent energy spat towards Istara. Istara could have blocked it with her saber, which was a bad idea on this ship. They did not like Force users of any stripe. She could have deflected it with the Force, which was also a bad idea, for the same reason. So instead, she focused herself and let the bolt come. More than one set of eyes on the bay went wide as Istara took the blaster bolt directly center mass and didn’t flinch. The angry girl’s eyes went very wide as Istara’s expression didn’t waver. She drank in the energy, absorbing it and using it to heal herself. While it hurt, she managed to keep her face serene. It hurt a lot, but she was no stranger to pain.

 

A terrified voice sounded from the ranks. “Istara! No!” Juli’s voice was lost in the sea of shouts.

 

One Eighteen’s face was shocked and terrified as she fired again, and again and again. Istara didn’t move, didn’t flinch. The blaster bolts hit her armor and vanished, leaving black marks but no other damage. “Fall damn it! Why won't you fall?”

 

Will stared at Istara and his voice was lost in the chorus of disbelieving questions, shouts and denials being thrown back and forth. “Oh… crap… Sharlina… No…”

 

When Istara spoke, it was cold, quiet and the entire bay froze at the sound of her voice. It was the same, but different. Where before her voice had been kind, gentle and compassionate, now it was cold, hard and merciless. There was something in it that spoke to the primitive brain parts of all the listeners. It said: ‘predator’!

 

“I don’t know what happened to you girl, but enough.” She didn’t gesture or make a move, but the blaster flew from the girl’s hands and landed on the table in front of Stormhawk Boss who was shaking his head. “No matter what you do to me, you cannot match what others have done. You want to hurt me? You cannot expunge your own pain and grief by harming others. If there is one thing I know, it is that. Hate is a poison. Yes, it feels so good, to let it out, doesn’t it?”

 

The girl, One Eighteen stared at her before shouting. “You see what she is! Shoot her damn it!” But no one in the crowd moved. “What are you waiting for? Shoot her!”

 

Now Will spoke. “One Eighteen… Be silent. Now.” His quiet, worried words had the girl freezing. But Will didn’t turn from Istara. “Sharlina… No… It won’t help.”

 

"I..." Istara grimaced as she fought for control. “Will… Please…”

 

Will shook his head. “I am not going to shoot you. No one is going to shoot you again. Easy Sharlina, you can rage later. You have cause, but not here. Not now. It won’t help.”

 

The entire bay froze as Istara bowed her head and when it came up, her eyes were glowing. but not yellow or red, as a Sith’s would, but silver. She met the terrified girl’s eyes and snarled. “You have no idea what you speak of. I am a guest this day, so I am bound by the rules of being a guest. Any other time and place you would be dead. You have suffered and for that we are sorry. But you are strong, or you would not have survived whatever happened to you. But none of you besides Will have any idea what hate is.” Her cold inhuman eyes turned towards Boss who flinched a bit. “I think we are done here.” Boss nodded silently.

 

“What says the crew?” Boss asked in the silence that descended. None of them moved for a moment but then many of them took a step forward. In moments it was a clear majority.

 

Nine counted the heads and slumped before shaking her head. “The crew says ‘No’.”

 

The commander of the Stormhawk sighed. “I am sorry, Grandmaster Istara Sharlina Andal, but the crew has spoken.”

 

Istara nodded, her face still that scary impassive mask. “Then I will leave as soon…” She broke off as a voice spoke up from the assembly.

 

“Wait!” Juli Shanas stepped forward. “Some of us are not just hatred.” She didn’t look at One Eighteen who snarled at her. All eyes went to Juli who was crying now. “I don’t want my two families killing each other. There has to be something we can do…”

 

One Eighteen snarled at Juli. “Shut it girl, you Sith loving…” She broke off as doubled over as Juli rammed her head into the girl’s midriff. The girl recoiled and fell, landing on her rear end. Juli might not have had arms, but hands and arms were not the only weapons on the human body.

 

Juli screamed at the sitting girl. “You ignorant Barvette! You have no idea. Are you the only one who has been hurt? Are you the only one who has been lied to? Used? Betrayed? Left behind? Tortured?” Now she was kicking the sitting girl as others moved belatedly to stop her. “You have no idea!” Strong hands grabbed her but she continued to scream at One Eighteen. “She could have killed you. Hell, she should have killed you…”

 

Istara’s quiet voice cut Juli’s rant off. “Enough.”

 

Juli Shana was shaking in rage now. “I thought I wanted to come back. I thought I knew you all. I thought… I guess it was a stupid hope. To hope that some of you might think for a change instead of reacting with blind hatred.” As the hands pulled her way, she kicked the sitting girl again. “I don’t know you people. I guess I never did…” She slumped as the hands pulled her further away.

 

One Eighteen looked poleaxed, but it might have been the kick that had connected to her head. “I…” She broke off as she looked up into the cold eyes of Will Kalenath. She froze like a nerf pinned by the stare of a Retu.

 

Will’s voice was coldly mocking. “I am not going to tell you anything. You know it all, don’t you One Eighteen? You know all about hate. What I am going to say is this. As of now, Istara and her Bladeborn are MY allies. I have more in common with them now, than I have with you.” At that, every single Stormhawk crew person in the bay stiffened into immobility and now his voice was cold. “And I say this to all of you. None of you know jack osik about hate. One Thirty Seven, Two Sixteen, tell the others, we are leaving.”

 

"Will..." The Trandoshan known as Zinoa to her family was shaking her head. “Will… No… We can’t…”

 

Will shook his head. “I can’t trust these people now.” At that everything stopped. No one dared move, Will’s hands were on his belt and blaster hilt now.

 

Boss rose slowly. “Will… No.” His voice was quiet. “Think, Will…”

 

"I have." Will shook his head. “Istara came here, a guest. And what do you do? You shoot her. I don’t know you.” He turned his back on Boss and bowed to Istara. “Some of us are not driven solely by our hate.”

 

"Will, no." Istara, however, was shaking her head. “The needs of the many, Will.”

 

"Oh?" Will looked at her for a long moment before sighing. “What about your needs, the needs of your many?”

 

"We will be okay." Istara slumped. “We will survive, if not thrive. Mend your bridges Will, please.”

 

Will looked at her and then around the bay. When he spoke it was sad. “You know… I think some bridges need to be burned.” Then he vanished as his stealth field generator activated. But his voice came from nowhere. “But to everyone here. I will be watching.” His cold words were long in dissipating.

It was very quiet in the quarters Will had been assigned on the Stormhawk, so long ago. He had been offered larger quarters, accommodations other thought were more suitable, but he had always refused. These suited him fine. His hands literally flew as he packed his gear, his clothes, what little he had. He always traveled light. Most of his life aboard would fit into two large duffels. Hard to believe he had spent so much time on this ship, this prototype Republic battlecruiser turned renegade.

 

Has it really been eleven years? He thought to himself as he stared around the small but comfortable stateroom. In basic design, it was exactly the same as any other stateroom on a Republic starship. Bed, desk with terminal, small but adequate refresher, food prep area… He shook his head slowly. This place had been his home for longer than any other place in his life. Ever since the ship had mutinied at the Battle of Coruscant, he had been part of this ship, its trials, its tribulations, its victories, and its losses. He remembered them all. And now…he was leaving.

 

The door hissed open behind him, but he didn’t flinch. Only one being had the codes to open the door without setting of a myriad of security systems. His hand was on his blaster as he slowly turned to find Stormhawk Boss looking at him. The armored form as always gave him the creeps. That was part of the idea, the mystique of Stormhawk Boss, the legend, the symbol of hope and freedom that wouldn’t stay dead. Shoot him and he gets back up, cut him to pieces and he shows up a few days later. Eternal, unkillable, totally dedicated to helping others.

 

For once, Boss sounded unsure. Indeed, the armored form’s voice was sick. “Will…”

 

"Boss." Will shook his head. “You are not going to convince me. You are welcome to come.”

 

"No." Boss made a strangled sound. “Will… No! I… I can’t. You shouldn’t… I…”

 

"Shouldn't I?" Will shook his head slowly, but his hand did not leave his gun. “You are not going to convince me. And don’t try and knock me out or lock me in. You would make me madder than I am now.” His cold words had the other being retreating a step.

 

Stormhawk Boss shook his head. “Will… Please, talk to me.” The armored form reached up and undid its helmet and when Hala Shinn’s face was visible, she had been crying. The blonde haired girl’s eyes were red and puffy as she looked at the man she admired more than any other.

 

Will shook his head. “Nothing to say, Hala. You all made your point quite clear. And I have made mine.”

 

Hala Shinn, formerly of Republic Special Force and now kind of drafted into the role of a dead man, shook her head. “Will… One Eighteen does not speak for the crew. And even she doesn’t want you to leave.”

 

Will snarled. “Flarg her. Flarg the crew. Flarg this godsforsaken ship. Istara needs me. You don’t.”

 

Hala shook her head. “That is not true, Will. If you go, then L’Trask, Zinoa, and Juli and the others go as well. We need you. I… I can’t…” L’Trask was the ship’s chief healer, a kind and gentle Trandoshan. Zinoa was a new addition, a hyperdrive tech who was coming into her own now that she didn’t have to conform to Trandoshan society, which she detested. Juli of course was a law unto herself. And the other two that Will had taken in…

 

Will’s expression might have been called smile, the same way a sharks might have. “Bullosik. No one is stopping you.”

 

Hala shook her head. “Will… I gave Serrina my word. I keep my word.”

 

Will grimaced, but then nodded. “Point.” The former Stormhawk Boss had done the job for six years before succumbing to cancer caused by radiation sickness. Hala had been her chosen successor. And the former Republic Special Forces trooper had been a good choice. Brave, but not foolhardy, Hala was a great leader, willing to listen to anyone, and then decide as the situation warranted. She had issues of course. Who didn’t? When the soldier spoke again, it was gentler. Still cold, but not as cold. “You and the others can stay or come with me as you wish. L’trask and Zinoa are staying. Juli… I don’t know. Mika and Jonas are undecided as of now.”

 

The two others of Will’s foundlings were young. Mika was twenty year old Mon Calamari female who was insanely good at deciphering enemy com traffic and Jonas was twenty one, a human male who was working an apprenticeship in the Stormhawk’s weapon control center. Both had been orphaned by slavers, and rescued by the Stormhawk. Will had taken both in, given them a place, and hope. Both loved him as a father, as Hala did.

 

"No." Hala shook her head. “Will, we can work this out. We can fix this.”

 

Will snorted. “Fix what? Fix the fact that almost everyone on this godsforsaken tub would rather die than hear a possible alternate course of action? Fix the fact that it is OK to shoot a guest as long as she seems to be a Sith? Fix the fact that some of you are complete flarging imbeciles who should have been spaced at birth to save the galaxy a world of hurt?”

 

Hala was crying again. “Will…”

 

Will snarled at the girl he had taken under his wing after she had arrived and found nothing waiting for her. “What? You expect me to play nice? Istara was under my protection, Hala! I would have gunned that arrogant witch One Eighteen down and you know what? I would have enjoyed it. That stupid barvette hurt Istara, even if it didn’t show. Istara could have cut her into four or five pieces before her first shot, and she stopped me from stopping One Eighteen. Some Sith.” Now his voice was scornful.

 

"Will." Hala bowed her head. “Everyone is agreed that One Eighteen was over the line. But Will, half the crew is ready to follow you.”

 

"Flarg them." Will snorted. “Flarg them all. My family is the only thing that matters to me now, Hala. You matter to me. This crew is not my family. It was… once…” He slumped. “I don’t know when things changed. Maybe with Nia? No… No, it was happening before that. Too many new faces, here and then gone. Too many people with too much hate. For the Sith, for the Jedi, for anyone not on the ship. Well, I guess they can hate me now.”

 

Hala shook her head slowly. “Will, don’t do this…”

 

"What?" Will just smiled, but not in a nice way. “You going to try and lock me up? Or shoot me? ‘Oh he knows too much about the ship!’ or ‘He cannot be trusted!’? Or maybe ‘He wears black so he must be a Sith!’”

 

"No." Hala shook her head slowly. This was not going well. “Will, don’t make me do this…”

 

"Or what?" Will snarled. “Hala, you of all people know better than to try and threaten me on this ship.”

 

"I don't want to do this." Now the armored woman snarled back. “I don’t want to threaten you at all. I want you to see reason.”

 

"Reason?" At that Will stiffened into immobility. “Reason went out the airlock when your new XOs daughter shot Istara, Hala.”

 

"Ah..." Hala did likewise. “Will, she had cause.”

 

"Well, duh." Will sighed and relaxed. “Of course she did. She had cause to shoot someone who was not threatening her. Yes…” He raised hand to forestall Hala’s half formed protest. “I know what happened to her. And you want a hot tip? I don’t care.” Now his voice was incredibly cold. Yes the girl had been betrayed, captured by the Sith, tortured and brutalized. But there were limits to anyone’s patience. Even Will’s.

 

"Will, aw crap..." Hala sighed and replaced her helmet. “Then by my authority as commander of this ship I am placing you under arrest.” She didn’t move.

 

Will shook his head and smiled sadly. “You and what army?”

 

The door behind Stormhawk Boss hissed open and three armored forms appeared in it. But all three Stormhawk marines were unarmed and looked terrified. The large grey furred form that stood holding their weapons was a good reason. He didn’t need weapons, even discounting that he was a rated master of Teras Kasi and several other forms of unarmed combat, the Wookiee was huge! Olanagychew had sworn a life debt to Will long ago. The grey furred Wookiee smiled widely at Stormhawk Boss and spoke.

 

<You were saying?>

Istara blinked. She had fallen asleep? How had she gotten in a bed? And where was her armor? She felt odd. She struggled to sit up and a gentle hand held her down.

 

“Now, now, none of that, Ma’am…” The Bladeborn had to smile as she recognized the reassuring voice. The grandmaster relaxed a bit. She had met L’Trask when she and Setsuna had come aboard the ship, seeking sanctuary after the mess with Zelkin Infinium. The strange Trandoshan healer was a pacifist, unlike most of his people. He did not count his jagganath by hunting or killing, instead, he counted his ‘score’ for his goddess by how many people he saved, how many lives he could restore. “Easy does it…” The bed inclined, placing her in a sitting position.

 

Istara looked up to see L’trask standing beside her bed. “What happened?” She asked quietly, cataloguing what she could feel of her body. Most of it worked fine, but her chest was numb. Granted that she had taken four blaster bolts to that part of her body, numb was preferable to the searing pain that had made it past her control. She looked around. As expected, she was lying on an examination bed in the medical ward of the Stormhawk, a clean and well lit space, like most medical wards she had been in.

 

The Trandoshan chief medical officer of the renegade battlecruiser Stormhawk shook his head. “You were shot. Several times. Why you didn’t die, I have no idea. You were walking back to your ship when you collapsed. The guards could not rouse you, so they brought you here. You have second degree burns on your chest, but no other injuries I can find.”

 

"Yeha." Istara sighed. “Thank you, doc. I knew, coming here, that it would be bad. But I had no idea. None at all.”

 

"What happened was wrong." L’Trask nodded. “One Eighteen, well, that girl has problems.” The doc shook his head. “I know you are not a Sith, Hawkir knows you are not a Sith… But as far as the rest of the crew is concerned? You are weird, but a Sith.”

 

Istara nodded and winced slightly as something hurt. “Yeah…” She sighed. “When can I get out of here, doc? I don’t want to push your people any more than I have.”

 

L’trask grimaced. “Um… We have… Some problems…”

 

Istara blinked and then her eyes shot open. “Oh no… Will…” It wasn’t a question.

 

L’Trask nodded and his face was as sour as stiff lizard skin could get. “Yeah. He um, well... I don’t know what is going on. Just that we are under a class one lockdown at the moment. No one is moving at all. No ships leaving until the situation clears up.”

 

"Doc." Istara sighed. “You of all people know that won’t stop him.”

 

"Yeah." L’Trask nodded sadly. “I know. But… He has been a part of this ship since the beginning. To hear him say what he did. That shocked me. People are asking what you did to him.”

 

"Me?" Istara blinked. “What ‘I’ did to him? I didn’t do a thing to him. Except ask his help. “She looked away from the doc and stiffened as she saw a pair of armored forms standing by the door. Both marines had weapons out and pointed at her. “Aw man, you think the Order did something to him? Brainwashed him? Of all the…”

 

"Istara..." L’trask shook his head. “I know Will can be impulsive at times. But this is way beyond him. He threatened members of the crew, Istara, his family. He is out of control.”

 

"No." Istara shook her head slowly. “If he were out of control, people would be dead. Lots of people. You didn’t see him on the Bladehome, doc. You don’t know…” She was shivering. Something was wrong and the Bladeborn’s grandmaster stiffened as she recognized the feelings. “You drugged me…You…”

 

"No." L’trask shook his head. “Istara, listen… I gave you painkillers, no more than that.” He leaned close. “Istara, listen to me…” His eyes pleaded with her. “We are in trouble.” She looked at him and her gaze flitted to the guards. L’trask didn’t move but his eyes held an affirmative. The Trandoshan’s voice was soft and scared now. “People are talking mutiny.”

 

Istara’s eyes went wide. “Aw frak… You are kidding me…” The thought of one of the most powerful starships in anyone's navy mutinying… again… sent shivers down her spine. Just the thought of the Stormhawk going actual pirate made her guts turn to water. No one would be safe. The ship was designed to fight fleets and win. She had heard some of what had transpired at Coruscant and after. Istara shook her head. “In the name of Ashla…why?”

 

L’Trask sat down beside her bed, his face grave. “Will is… Well, he has been part of this crew since the beginning. He has… Well, it is not a cult aboard, but it is close. People who feel they owe him, people who would follow him anywhere, do anything for him.” The Trandoshan stared at the floor. “People like me…”

 

"L'trask?" The Bladeborn hadn’t known her eyes could get that wide. “What have you done, doc?”

 

"I got orders." L’trask shook his head. “They wanted you in detention. I told them to flarg off, you were too badly injured. A lie, but…” Now the Trandoshan looked like he wanted to weep. “They have already put Juli and her dad there. When Will finds out…”

 

A sound came from the door and both of the two, the Bladeborn and the doctor turned to see both marines lying on the floor. Another armored form was standing over them, lowering a heavy stun rifle. The Mandalorian nodded to both of them and spoke. Trava’s voice was grim. “When Will finds out there is going to be hell to pay, and I would much rather to be a long ways from here when he does.”

 

L’trask blinked and then nodded. “Do it Trava.”

 

Istara struggled to get out of the bed as the Mandalorian raised her rifle and fired a careful shot. The Trandoshan collapsed in a heap. The Bladeborn managed to get out of the bed and knelt on shaky legs beside the still form. To her relief, he was breathing. Istara stared at the Mandalorian as Trava started rooting through compartments. “Why did you do that?”

 

Trava pulled Istara’s armor from a cupboard and tossed it to her before taking position by the door. “He wants to stay, crazy fool. Come on, get dressed, we don’t have a lot of time before they figure out how I spoofed the cameras. We want to be gone by the time they send reinforcements. I do not want a mutiny on this ship if I can help it.”

 

"I don't get it." Istara started pulling her armor on, letting training steady her as her mind reeled. “Trava, what the hell is going on?”

 

"A clusterfisk." Trava sighed. “Will sent me a com. Boss tried to arrest him to keep him from leaving.”

 

Istara froze, her breastplate half on. “Oh no… Tell me you are kidding. Please tell me you are kidding…”

 

"I can't." Trava shook her head. “I wish. No one is dead, yet. Lots of people unconscious. Two of my people are heading for detention, to spring Cole, Juli and a couple of others. The rest will meet us in the hangar. Come on, get finished, we are on short time here.”

 

Istara nodded and her hands flew as she finished buckling on her armor. Her sword lay on a table nearby and she checked it swiftly before strapping it on. “We have to stop this. Where is Hawkir?”

 

Trava shook her head. “He is locked up as well. From what I understand, Boss is unconscious, so command would evolve to Will or the new XO, Jaing Makarian.”

 

"Wait..." Istara nodded and there was a faint hint of silver in her eyes now. “If he is the one in charge of this madhouse… Let’s go talk to him. Try to settle this before it goes nuclear.”

 

"Wha-?" Trava looked at her and then laughed. “I like you girl, I do…”

Edited August 8, 2012 by kalenath

Of course, it wasn’t that easy.

 

A starship, any starship, was a maze of corridors, chambers, bays and operating spaces. A warship multiplied the amount of stuff that was crammed into it by a factor of at least three. You need space for weapons and defenses in addition to small things like life support, supplies, fuel, computers, and all of the other various and sundry things that a small habitable environment needed in one of the most inhabitable environments known. And the Stormhawk was no normal warship. It had been designed from the keel up as a fleet flagship, so it had more stuff that even a normal warship. Then it had been highly modified in its years on the run. Istara kept reminding herself that as she squeezed through yet another duct that was almost large enough for her. She didn’t speak, just followed her guide through the innards of one of the most powerful vessels in known space slowly and carefully.

 

Finally Trava came to a compartment and after a moment of careful visual scanning, opened the air duct cover and slid out sinuously. She looked at the camera that sat motionless over the door and nodded. “We are clear for the moment.” She looked at Istara and her sense in the Ashla was appraising. “I didn’t think Bladeborn knew how to sneak.”

 

"Of course we do." Istara stood up slowly and snorted as well. “’Better to sneak than to die needlessly or stupidly’, Trugoy always said.” She shrugged, getting her muscles to loosen up. She looked around. It was a standard stateroom, much like any other she had ever been in. A bed, a desk with terminal and a door to what was probably a small refresher were the only things visible. No other furniture. She shook her head. “And what would be the point here? These are not enemies, no matter what some of them might think. Where are we?”

 

Trava nodded as she keyed the terminal on. “Main deck, secondary… Oh flarg…” She hit a couple of commands and then cursed and shut the computer down hastily. “Main computer is set to watchdog mode. They are likely tracking terminal power ups…” She moved to the door. “With all the other insanity, we likely have time before they figure out this stateroom is unoccupied and send a team to check, but not a lot. Bridge is fifty meters that way.” She waved to the left as she approached the door. “What are your plans?”

 

Istara sighed. “We need to talk to whoever is in charge. But I don’t want to kill anyone if I can help it. You have a shockstick?” Trava looked at her and then reached to her equipment pack and tossed the Bladeborn a long cylinder. Istara caught it, checked the power reading and nodded. “This needs to be quick and quiet.”

 

Trava shook her head. “I don’t think quick is going to be quiet. There is no direct access to the bridge through the air ducts. All of them are either trapped, are too small for humans to move through, or have grates. This isn’t the first time the ship has had people aboard with unknown intentions. Or hostile ones.”

 

Istara bit her lip. “Automated defenses?” Trava looked at her and Istara shrugged. “It is what I would do.”

 

"Argh." Trava sighed. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but there are four turrets guarding the bridge access corridor. Two of them have sonic cannon.”

 

Istara frowned. That defined overkill, but… “Ouch… No wonder none of the Sith boarding attempts ever succeeded.” She had seen reports occasionally about the various attempts to take the outlaw vessel. None had ever returned. Most had simply vanished without a trace.

 

Trava snorted. “You haven’t seen anything yet. This ship is a deathtrap. Even a Mandalorian assault team might not be able to take it. Actually, considering we helped revamp some of its defenses after that mess with the Fate Shatter, no…” She mused unhappily. “We wouldn’t be able to.”

 

Istara stared at the form in grey armor and her voice was shocked. “A Mandalorian admitting defeat?”

 

Trava growled dangerously at her. “We wouldn’t be able to take it intact, girlie. Blow it out of the stars, sure. Take it intact, not going to happen. And they designed it that way. None of the people aboard ever wanted to be guests of the Sith again. Or slaves.”

 

Istara grinned. She liked dealing with Mandos. You never had to guess how you stood with them. If they were insulting you and now shooting at you, then they liked you. Trusting one was often a bad idea, but, she did like Trava. The Bladeborn blew out a breath. “So the chances of simply walking onto the bridge…” She broke off as Trava nodded.

 

"Nope." Trava sighed. “Not going to happen.”

 

"Wait." Istara blinked as a sudden thought occurred to her. “Could you?”

 

"Me?" Trava stared at the Bladeborn, but then her voice turned thoughtful. “Maybe. I think my codes are still current, so if I get to the door unfried, they will likely let me in.”

 

"I think... No." Istara shook her head. “Too much of a risk. If you go down, I have no chance at all.” She looked around the small compartment, looking for inspiration. Her eyes lit on the intercom panel. “Can we talk to them?”

 

"No." Trava shook her head. “Intercoms were tied into the security cams. When the cameras went offline, so did the coms.”

 

"I see." Istara blinked and then smiled slightly. “So they may not know all of what is going on.” Now her grin was wide.

 

"II don't like that smile." Trava looked at her. “What?”

 

"Trava?" Istara shook her head. “Do you mind being a delivery woman?”

 

"What?" Now Trava was dumbfounded. “There is no way they will let me, armed and armored…” She broke off as Istara’s grin turned vicious. “Oh no… No… No way in the Preserver’s hell… Not a chance…”

 

<A few minutes later>

 

Trava Kalen, Elder of the Mandalorian Colony on Nova Ordo, snarled under her breath as she peeked around the corner. This is nuts… She said to herself as she sighed and strode from the cross corridor and started towards the bridge. That Bladeborn is insane…

 

She was halfway there when an automated voice spoke. “Unauthorized access.” She rattled off a code sequence and waited. All four of the turrets were tracking her now and she just stood, shivering a little as her bare feet felt the cold deck. Finally, after a few minutes, the hatch hissed open and a figure in Republic uniform stared at her.

 

Jaing Makarian, formerly Rear Admiral Jaing Makarian, Republic Navy and now XO Makarian of the renegade cruiser Stormhawk, stared at the Mandalorian with wide eyes. “Elder Kalan? Why are you standing in the corridor in a bathrobe?”

 

"Trying not to get blasted, XO." Trava pulled the ends of the robe together, trying to maintain what small dignity she could muster. It wouldn’t have been so bad if the bathrobe hadn’t been pink. Or if she had wearing anything other than her bodystocking underneath it. “We need to talk.”

A few minutes later, Trava sat in Boss office, a scowl on her face as the black haired XO shook his head. Jaing Makarian was not a happy man. “This is… Look… I only have your word for what has happened.”

 

Trava’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I see.” Her voice was flat and the XO stiffened.

 

Makarian shook his head quickly. Calling a Mandalorian a liar was generally not a good idea. Even unarmored and unarmored, Trava was lethal. She was the only being he had ever seen who he would give even odds of beating a Jedi or Sith one on one in hand combat. Even with two marines pointing blasters at her, her gaze never left him and he could just imagine how her mind was computing distances, angles, and odds. He sighed.

 

“Trava, I don’t know what is going on. Cameras are down, coms are down, I can’t contact anyone at all. All I know is that Will told the whole crew to flarg off and vanished.” That had been chilling, seeing a hero, a legend, basically say to everyone who looked up to him ‘Flarg you, I want nothing more to do with you’ and then disappear into thin air.

 

"Right." Trava sighed and slowly relaxed the muscles that had tensed. “Will sent me an information burst. Boss tried to arrest him. Will argued the point. But no one died.”

 

Jaing Makarian’s eyes went wide at that and his mouth dropped open. For a long moment, no sound came out. When he finally managed to speak, it was quiet and scared. “What?”

 

"XO..." Trava sighed. “Did Boss order Juli and her dad thrown into detention? Or Hawkir?”

 

At that Makarain froze. “Oh my god… If he did, he didn’t tell me… Oh no…”

 

"Yeah.: Trava shook her head, her face sad now. “You know what Will is going to do when he finds out. You know what he said he would do if anyone hurt his kids again. We need to stop this, and we need to stop it now.” Some said that Mandalorians did not feel fear. People who did were idiots. Every living thing felt fear and Trava Kalan felt a lot right this moment. No one sane wanted to face Will as ticked off as he was. The term ‘merciless’ could have been coined specifically to describe that man. Trava had known, from the moment she had met the man almost nine years ago now that he was the single most dangerous being she had ever met. When the clan had adopted him, it had basically been for self preservation. Well, that and they didn’t want any other clan getting him. It had taken some persuasion. Trava smiled a bit fondly even now, the man was stubborn, but then she frowned. “The man will not stop, XO. We have to let him leave, or people are going to die. As far as I know, no one has, yet.”

 

"Right." Makarian sighed. “And with Boss incommunicado, I’m in charge. Geez, I hate this part of things. But you are right. We need to find out what is going on. I just wish I knew what happened to the cameras. With the coms out, the defenses are on local control. You are lucky the code you used hadn’t been changed.”

 

Trava smiled thinly. “Give me access to a terminal.”

 

"You...?" Makarian stared at her and then barked a laugh. “You got into our systems, didn’t you?” Trava just grinned and Makarians sighed. “Put your weapons away, troops. I doubt they would help.” He stood up from the desk and indicated the terminal. “Have at it.” The marines reluctantly lowered their rifles and then, at a glower from the XO, slung them.

 

Trava stepped to the console and started typing. “No offense, XO, but I like to keep my options open. I like you all, but…” She broke off and then focused on her work.

 

Makarian looked at her. “But what?”

 

Trava sighed. “When I start liking people, things tend to go wrong.” She shook her head and focused on her work. A few moments later she stepped back from it. “There you go. Coms and cameras back up.”

 

Makarian smiled a bit wryly as the Mando stepped back from the desk. “I doubt you would tell me what you did. So, let’s just check on Juli…” He stepped forward and hit a couple of controls. The screen behind him lit up with a view of the detention bay. Everyone in the room stiffened at what they saw. The four force cages were full. A figure in Jedi robes slumped in one, a Mon Cal female and human male were slumped in two others unconscious, Makraian devoutly hoped. But it was the forth that made him freeze in fear and shock. A small form was screaming silently in another as energy played across her body. Juli Shanas was convulsing as the energy passed through her body. His eyes tore away from that and all the breath in his body fled in an explosive grunt as he took in the rest of the scene. Everything paled beside the bloody figure strapped to a table and the woman who was bent over it with a knife.

 

“Brianna!” He shouted as he keyed the com. But it didn’t function. He hit another control and snarled. “She cut the com lines at her end!” Trava was in motion, but the two marines moved to bar the door. Makarian snarled. “Go with her, stop that idiot girl!” But Trava was gone.

 

<Detention bay>

 

“How does it feel, Mr Sith secret agent? How does it feel to be the one to hurt?” The girl with the crazy eyes asked as she cut deeper. But Cole didn’t scream.

 

Indeed, when the former smuggler spoke, it was mocking. “You are going to have to do better than that.” The girl with the knife snarled and hit a control. Another set of shrieks reverberated around the chamber as the force cages sent energy through their occupants again.

 

Cole hadn’t resisted when the guards had grabbed him. He had been waiting impatiently to speak to someone in charge when two goons in armor had shown up, confiscated all of his gear and thrown him in a force cage. But then they had left, and this… crazy woman had come in. She had thrown Juli, still with no arms, into another force cage and started using the built in features to torture them both.

 

Cole would have shaken his head, if he could have. But while he had been unconscious from the first round of torture, she had pulled him from his cage and strapped him to this table. It was obviously designed to keep people from escaping. He couldn’t move a muscle except to speak. So that was what he did. “Big woman. Oh yeah, big tough woman. Hurting kids. Oh, what a great Sith you would make. Using pain on a person’s loved ones to hurt them.” He snickered. “At least I know how to do it.” The knife dug in again, but he just smiled wider. “You don’t have a clue.”

 

The girl, her number was One Eighteen, he recalled, snarled as she dug in deeper. “I am going to kill you and I am going to enjoy it. Then I will start on your Sith loving brat.”

 

Cole sighed. “You really don’t have a clue do you? Oh well, fine. Do what you want. You will anyway. But here is a hot tip, idiot girl. The Bladeborn are not Sith.” The knife cut deeper but he didn’t flinch, didn’t scream. It was nowhere near as bad as some other things that had happened to him. For all her insanity, the girl was a novice. Eventually, she would kill him, and then start working on Juli. That thought hurt him, but the only thing he could do was keep this crazy woman occupied for a while.

 

The girl was obviously frustrated with his lack of screams. “I am going to make you scream.” She promised as she waved the knife point near one of his eyes.

 

Cole smiled at her and she stared at him. “Yes, eventually you would. Every living thing has limits. But it will take a lot longer than you think. And just so you know, you ignorant Barvette, you don’t have the time.”

 

The girl giggled maniacally and pressed the tip of her knife again his cheek. “Oh I think I have all the time I want. The doors are code locked, the coms are offline. It’s just you, me and these other Sith loving brats.” She dug the tip in and he just smiled, cutting himself in the process. Finally, she snarled. “What are you grinning about?”

 

Cole smiled wider. “I like working with professionals.”

 

The girl stared at him and then spun as a calm voice came from behind her. “Put the knife down. Now.”

 

Her eyes went wide as she saw the Jedi who had been slumped in his cell step right through the coruscating energy field. He was watching her. “You… that is not possible…”

 

"With the Force, anything is possible, Brianna." Hawkir Strum didn’t look his usual composed self. His brown hair was mussed, his face streaked with tears of pain and grief. “Put the knife down, Brianna. Put it down.”

 

“Don’t you try those Jedi tricks on me!” She declared as she reached for the controls to the Force cages.

 

" Brianna, I am trying to save your life. Hawkir didn’t move. “Put the knife down. Now.” His voice held command, but no compulsions. They likely wouldn’t work. The Stormhawk crew had nerve amplifiers built into their suits. It was very uncomfortable, but it kept unfriendly Force users from dominating the crew’s minds.

 

“Flarg you, Jedi!” Brianna bit out as she spun back to look at him. “Where were you. Where the hell were you? While they were torturing me? While they were playing with me? While they did all those things to me? Where the hell were you?”

 

Hawkir’s eyes were glistening. “Brianna, I am trying to save your life.”

 

Brianna screamed at him. “What life? All I am is a shell! A broken hurting thing that exists to hate. Nothing more. I just want them to hurt too.”

 

Hawkir was relentless though. “They didn’t have anything to do with what happened to you. You are hurting people who have done nothing to you. Because you can. Because it makes you feel good. Because…”

 

Brianna snarled at him. “Shut up!

 

But Hawkir wasn’t finished. “Because you think it might make the pain go away if you hurt others. It won’t. Brianna, step away from the console and put the knife down.”

 

Brianna snarled at him and lunged for the console. Something slammed into her shoulder as a single blaster shot sounded. Her face was suddenly confused. Hawker moved and caught her before she hit the floor. She looked up to see a silver armored form appear from the shadows near the door. Will Kalenath’s face was cold as he looked at her over the sight picture of his blaster pistol. She stared at him, and her mouth worked but no sound came out.

 

"No..." Hawkir held the girl and spoke quickly. “Will. No… She didn’t know what she was doing…”

 

Will snarled. “I don’t care.” And the girl’s world went red and then black.

Hawkir Strum, Jedi Consular, was no stranger to fear. What he was a stranger to, was the black rage that swept through him when the girl in his arms stiffened and collapsed. For just a moment, he stared at the soldier who had just fired and then he sighed. Anger wouldn’t help. Hawkir called upon his training and moved beyond his anger. He touched Brianna’s chest over the burnt spot that marked the blaster hit and concentrated. The Force answered his call, seeping through the poor girl in his arms and trying to correct the horrible damage that the two blaster shots had done.

 

Will’s first shot had burned through the girl’s shoulder, immobilizing the arm with the knife by the simple expedient of severing the muscular bundles that controlled it. Damaging but not lethal, the shot had self cauterized as blaster bolts generally did. His second shot, however, was much more problematical. It had seared into Brianna’s chest, missing her heart by perhaps two millimeters, if it missed it at all. Hawkir poured power into the girl, noting the damage and focusing on fixing it. It hadn’t missed her heart. He could feel the damage, he could see the hurts she had taken, the pain she was in. It made him want to weep, but there would be time for tears later, maybe.

 

The heart was the single most important muscle in the human body. Without it, there was no blood flow, no nutrients and oxygen carried to the other parts. So he focused on healing the damage to that. It was hard. Forcing an injury to heal faster than nature normally intended was not a task undertaken lightly. The Jedi had heard someone say one ‘There is no such thing as a free lunch’. And he agreed. The energy cost to do what he was trying was phenomenal. Finally, after a few minutes of pouring energy into the still form he sat back and sighed. He had done what he could, now it was up to her whether she lived or not. But when he looked up, Will wasn’t there. He looked around and Will was kneeling beside the deactivated force cages. And what he saw made the consular freeze.

 

The tough as nails, dangerous soldier was crying. The man hugged two still forms in his arms and he was weeping quietly. Hawkir stiffened. Even from where he sat, he could feel that neither of the still forms was breathing.

 

“Will…?” He asked hesitantly. He stood slowly, making Brianna as comfortable as he could on the floor.

 

"No..." The soldier was murmuring under his breath. But the words were clear to Force enhanced hearing. “Too late… Always too flarging late… Ah Mika… Ah Jonas… I’m sorry…”

 

Hawkir felt his world rock on its axis. Mika and Jonas were two of Will’s foundlings. Former slaves the man had adopted. The man loved those kids… “Oh no…” He knew Mika had a weak heart, the girl had been in and out of Medical so many times it simply wasn’t funny. But Jonas… “What happened?”

 

"What happened?" Will looked up and Hawkir took a step back from the malevolence in the man’s gaze. “Why do you care?” the soldier asked harshly. “Go save your own loved one. Go be a good little crew member. Leave me alone!”

 

Hawkir took a cautious step towards the soldier. “Will, I can…” He froze as Will’s hand blurred. It wasn’t force enhanced speed, but it sure looked like it as the man’s hand found his blaster and drew it. Hawkir noted in some small, analytical part of his mind, that it wasn’t the same gun the soldier had shot Brianna with. This was a sonic disruptor pistol. Highly illegal in most systems, it was an ugly weapon that disintegrated what it hit. It also would pass through most protective shield systems and was incredibly difficult to block with a lightsaber. Which meant Hawkir was in great danger. He might be able to pull it from Will’s hand with the Force before the soldier could fire, but, maybe not and at this range Will couldn’t miss. “Will…”

 

Will snarled at the Jedi. “You can get the flarg back. You can leave me the flarg alone. You and every other idiot on this godsforsaken tub can take a walk out the airlock. I trusted you!” The soldier was screaming now. “And look what you have done!”

 

Hawker took a quick step back. He had seen Will in a lot of moods, but never like this. He had to calm the man down. Through sheer force of will, the Jedi kept his voice calm. “Will, I didn’t do this. I want to help. Please, let me help.”

 

The door hissed open and he relaxed a bit as Trava Kalan entered, but then he tensed again as her expression registered. Rage. The Mandalorian spoke to Will quietly. “Vod?”

 

"Elder..." Will blinked and suddenly he was calm again. But Hawkir was not reassured. It was as if a great and powerful storm was just below the horizon, coming, soon. “They killed my ade, Elder…”

 

Hawkir stiffened. Ade was Mando’a for ‘children’. And he knew how Mandalorians felt about their children. A hard people, a rough and tumble people, but a loving people. They did not spoil their children, not hardly, but they protected them. Children were became adults at thirteen, but they had to pass a trial first. Not every child survived that trial. Will was different in that he had adopted two older former slaves who hadn’t had anywhere else to go. The man delighted in taking broken, hurting people and making then whole again. Much as Hawkir did. But he loved them. Maybe too much.

 

Trava’s face was sad. She was wearing her armor, but not her helmet and it looked as if she had donned it in a hurry. “Oh, vod…”

 

Will was shaking, but not crying now. When he looked at Trava his face and voice were calm. But underneath lay rage and hate. “I have a request, Elder.”

 

Trava nodded. “Speak, vod.” She was technically his junior on this ship, but to the two of them, that didn’t matter. She was a Mandalorian Elder, his superior in age and experience.

 

The soldier spoke one word. “Ba'slanar.” Trava stiffened.

 

Hawkir stared from the soldier to the Mandalorian. “What does that mean?” That wasn’t a word he knew.

 

Trava spoke in a monotone, as if she couldn’t really believe what she was saying. “It means ‘exit, leave, depart’. I… Will…”

 

Will rose from the two corpses and strode to the control console without a word. He touched it and it came to life without him keying any controls. Even now, after seeing it so many times, that display of power creeped Hawkir out. That was not a natural ability. He stood silent for a moment and then an image appeared on the screen. Three figures stood in the detention bay and Hawkir inhaled sharply as he recognized one of them.

 

Tech Jaken was speaking. “… and be sure to be gone when she gets here. This will show those arrogant Kalenaths that they are not untouchable.”

 

One of the marines spoke cautiously. “What if she hurts them or kills them?”

 

Jaken smiled evilly. “Well, then it is her fault, isn’t it? Not our concern.” Hawkir felt his stomach lurch as the two marines nodded silently and left the bay. Jaken walked to the console. “Better wipe this…” The image ended.

 

Hawkir shook his head. “If he wiped it…” He trailed off, dazed by the sheer evil that had occurred. This had been…planned?

 

“He is good with tech.: Will said with a sigh that never touched his eyes, which still smoldered. "But he is still an idiot. Every detention bay on this ship has redundant recording features. He is mine.”

 

The temperature in the detention bay seemed to plummet. Trava nodded slowly. “What do you need, vod?”

 

Will spoke calmly now. But it was the calm before the storm, Hawkir knew. “Have your people get Mika, Jonas, Cole, Juli, Zinoa and L’trask to the gunship and take off. Olana is prepping the Dragon now. Meet me at point six seven. Where is Istara?”

 

Istara strode through the door, her face a mask. “Right here, Will.”

 

Will nodded. “I need you to go with Trava. We will meet up again at the rendezvous.”

 

Istara blinked and then nodded. “As you wish. What are you going to do?”

 

"Me?" Will smiled, a death’s head smile. “I am going to administer some justice.”

The first thing Hala Shin noted was the pain. She had seen Will’s hand flash, but part of her had never believed he would actually shoot her. She shook her head slowly and grimaced as it pounded. Stunner aftereffects, she recognized them now. Headache, muzziness, general lethargy for a time. Non lethal, but uncomfortable nonetheless. She looked around and stiffened as she saw she was still in the quarters she had found Will in. She had hoped to talk him into staying, but he had been a stubborn barve as always. Then her backup had been taken by surprise by his backup. Her helmet was sitting by her side, apparently someone, probably Will, had checked to make sure she was breathing before leaving her here. She checked the suit systems, everything was green, and then slapped the helmet on.

 

Stormhawk Boss checked the unconscious forms of the three marines who had accompanied him. All breathed and Boss heaved a sigh of relief. Will was flarging dangerous, but no one in… His thoughts broke off as he checked his com. A dozen urgent messages flashed for his attention, but one in particular stood out. He keyed his com.

 

His voice was calm as he walked towards the door, ignoring his body’s complaints. “XO. Status?”

 

"Boss?" Jaing Makarian’s voice came over the com and the man sounded scared and heartbroken. “Oh man, you have no idea how good it is to hear your voice.” The former Republic Admiral sounded downright terrified.

 

Boss staggered the last few steps to the door and keyed it open. “What happened?” He asked as he started back towards the bridge. For along moment, Jaing didn’t answer and Boss stiffened imperceptibly as he walked. “Jaing?”

 

When the XO spoke, it was toneless. “Someone claiming to be acting on your orders threw Mika, Jonas, Juli and her dad into detention.” Boss froze in midstride. “Did you order that?”

 

"What?" Boss shook his head. Dumbfounded. “Not hardly. I knew how Will would react. Are they still there? I’ll…”

 

Jaing’s voice was hushed, sad now. “No, they are not. Trava’s people have taken the survivors to the hangar bay and, well, the one time someone tried to stop them, they shot him, Boss. Didn’t kill him, but they could have. Message received, I ordered all marines to fall back, to stay out of their way.”

 

"'Survivors'?" Boss’ felt his guts froze solid. “What do you mean…’survivors’? Jaing?” He prompted when the XO didn’t speak.

 

"Boss" The XO spoke formally now. “The guards in the bay left their posts. Apparently someone told them to. I don’t know the whole story, Trava’s people are not talking. But I do know they took two bodies with them.”

 

Boss’ voice was hushed, scared now. “Who?”

 

Jaing’s voice wasn’t much louder. “I don’t know. They wouldn’t tell me. They were in body bags.”

 

Boss shook his head. This wasn’t making any sense. “What happened? They should have been… Wait, you say the guards were not there?”

 

Jaing sighed. “No. Bri… She wasn’t very stable, and then she got hold of Juli somehow. Apparently when Brianna took Juli there, there wasn’t anyone else there. Just the prisoners. Who she…tortured with the cages.”

 

"Oh my god..." Boss shook his head, dumbfounded. “No… Mika has a bad heart, it will…” The silence from the other end had Boss snarling. “I will shoot that girl… I swear it Jaing, I’ll shoot her…”

 

"Too late." Jaing’s voice was tired now. “Will already did. I just got a report from Hawkir saying she is in Medical now, critical. She might make it. Maybe.”

 

Boss’s voice was downright scared now. “Jaing, if she killed Mika or Jonas or Juli… All hell is going to break loose.” But then his attention was drawn by a bloodcurdling scream from nearby. “Call you back.”

 

He clicked his com off on Jaing’s startled reply and drew his blaster. Funny that Will hadn’t taken that, but then again, they were not enemies, were they? Suddenly Stormhawk Boss wasn’t so sure. If someone had conspired to hurt or kill some of Will’s fosterlings… Boss came to an intersecting corridor and froze. A body lay on the deck. From the look of it, it had been a Stormhawk marine. Stress the word ‘had’. The body was mutilated in ways that made the veteran soldier within the armor gag. But that wasn’t what made Boss freeze. Suddenly he was very happy he couldn’t smell what was in the corridor, because another marine was impaled to the bulkhead with what looked like a force pike. The sheer strength that it took to penetrate a durasteel bulkhead, even with a force pike… Boss stiffened as the impaled marine spoke.

 

“Stop him… You have got to… stop…” The marine’s voice trailed off and his head lolled down. Even without seeing the readouts that Boss could access from this range, he knew the man was dead.

 

Ordinarily it would have taken surveillance cameras and time to find the source of the massacre that Boss beheld. But this time, there was no doubt. A bloody trail, one that looked like shambling footprints, led away from the scene. Boss swallowed and followed the trail. Then he heard it.

 

"Oh Jaken..." The voice came from nowhere up ahead. “How does it feel, Jaken, to know you are going to die?” Will’s voice was cold and mocking. A shot followed by a scream came from up ahead and Boss hurried his steps.

 

When Boss came around the corner, though, he froze. Will had the struggling form of the tech in on hand, held off the floor by the neck. The tech was bleeding and from the looks of it, had been shot at least twice. But that wasn’t what stopped Boss. Will and Jaken were standing in front of the open hatch of an airlock. A hold out blaster lay on the floor nearby, apparently Jaken had found it and screwed up his courage enough to try and use it. Not that it had helped.

 

"No." Boss spoke softly. “Will. Stop.”

 

Will didn’t take his eyes from the face of the tech, a face that was now starting to turn blue as he choked off the man’s air. “Why?” He asked coldly.

 

“Will… What have you done?” Boss asked carefully.

 

"Me?" Will just snarled. “Why would you care? You have your ship. Fine. I want nothing more to do with you people.”

 

"I don't..." Boss shook his head. “Will, it isn’t like that. What happened?”

 

Will smiled, an expression with no mirth and a whole lot of hate behind it. “What happened? Oh… Ask Jaken.” He threw the tech into the airlock. “But you better ask fast.”

 

Jaken hit the floor and scrambled for the door, but Will slammed the emergency close switch just as the tech had his hands in the seal. The safety cutouts that should have overridden the door and opened it again didn’t function and Boss stared at the six fingers that slid away. The armored form tried not to gag.

 

Boss shook his head. “Will…No…”

 

Will shook his head and turned to walk away. “You have exactly…” He checked his chrono. “…two minutes before that airlock finishes venting. You want to talk to him, talk. I am out of here.”

 

Boss was torn. Save Jaken, who was a jerk, but a good tech, or stop Will. “Will, what the hell are you doing? He is a shipmate!”

 

"Not of mine." Will shook his head. “He killed Mika and Jonas.” Boss shook his head, even now, he couldn’t believe it.

 

A scared voice came from the intercom by the hatch. Jaken was screaming. “That is not true! It was One Eighteen, the crazy witch did it. Not me! Help me!”

 

"Will?" Boss stared at the hatch. Then he looked at Will. “What would Sharra say, Will?”

 

Will stopped but didn’t turn. “You really want to know?”

 

Boss nodded. “Yeah.”

 

Will turned and smiled. Boss felt a cold shiver the likes of which he had never felt before. Will’s voice could have frozen a supernova in its tracks. “She would say ‘The guy is getting off easy. He killed our kids. Maybe he didn’t pull the switch himself, but he did it.’ That is what she would say. Goodbye Boss. Anyone else who gets in my way is going to die.” With that, he was gone.

 

Boss turned back to the hatch. He looked over the controls, they were hopelessly scrambled. He sighed and hit the intercom. “Why Jaken?”

 

Jaken’s voice, if anything was more terrified. “I didn’t do it! I didn’t!”

 

Boss sighed again, deeper. “Was it you who told the marines to leave Detention? To leave Juli, Mika and Jonas open to Brianna, who we all know is not lucid?”

 

Jaken’s voice was growing fainter as the air pressure in the airlock dropped. “No it… Yes…! YES I did it! Put me on trial! Pull me out, I confess! I confess!”

 

Boss shook his head. “You have had your trial. Goodbye, Jaken.” He hit the intercom to turn it off and turned to go. As he did he commed the bridge. “XO.”

 

Jaing’s voice came back fast. “We are getting reading of an airlock venting in your area. What happened?”

 

“Justice.” Boss’s voice was soft, tired now. “Let Will and whoever wants to go with him leave. My authority.”

 

Jaing’s voice was just as soft. “Yes sir.”

 

Boss walked off, wondering how a day that had started so promising could have turned to ugly and evil so quickly.

<Four hours later>

 

It was very quiet in the crowded main bay of the Republic gunship. Thirty Mandalorians would have crowded it no matter what. But then Istara was there, as well. The Bladeborn sat silent and still beside two long, black bags. She didn’t look up as another form threaded its way through the mass of armed beings and sat beside her.

 

The Trandoshan doc, L’trask spoke softly. “It wasn’t your fault, Istara.”

 

"No?" Istara’s voice was barely audible. “If not mine, then whose? I came, looking for assistance. Instead I caused death.” She stared at the bags beside her. She hadn’t moved since the ship had taken off. “The death of innocents. I am surprised Will isn’t mad at me.”

 

The Trandoshan sighed. “Istara, you cannot shoulder the burdens of everyone. What happened was tragic, in more ways than one, but the tension had been building for some time. Our family had been discussing options. Leaving was one option, but it wasn’t one that any of us wanted to do.”

 

Istara shook her head slowly. “I don’t understand. You were not pampered, you were certainly not cosseted; so what was the big deal?”

 

L’trask sighed again. “Need you ask? We were different. We were not like everyone else. Everyone walked carefully around us for fear of Will. It generated bad feelings.”

 

Istara shook herself and changed the subject. “How is Juli?”

 

L’trask shook his head. “I don’t know, Istara. I just don’t know. She isn’t reacting as she should to my treatment. She hasn’t woken. I don’t know if she is going to.” It was easy to see that the admission hurt the kindly old lizard.

 

Istara shook her head. “What happened?”

 

L’Trask shook his head. “Without proper gear all I can do is guess. My ‘guess’ is that the energy that Brianna tortured her with followed the path of least resistance. It went through the connections for her mechanical arms and travelled along the nerves much faster than normal. It had a straight conduit to…” He broke off as Istara inhaled in shock and fear.

 

Istara’s voice was quiet. “…to her brain.”

 

The Trandoshan doc nodded. “I don’t know if she is going to wake up, Istara. And if she does, I don’t know if she will be the girl we loved. Side effects from such power… Oh you know.” He sniffed derisively, reminding himself who he was talking to.

 

Istara nodded, her face sad. “Yeah.”

 

Force lightning could do the same thing if applied to a victim’s skull for a length of time. Istara had seen it happen, more than once. The victim had woken a gibbering vegetable, raving mad, or a blank slate ready to be filled with whatever the instigator had wished. But few Sith would have bothered with children. Except in special cases, like hers. She controlled her instinctive shiver. That was what the Sith lord had planned for her, to empty her out and make her an instrument of his will. And it wasn’t likes he could have fought him at age nine.

 

Istara sighed. “Anything I can do, doc, say it. I may not be at fault, but the responsibility for what happened ultimately lies with me. The Bladeborn pay their debts.” She shook herself a little. ”Do you know where we are going?”

 

L’Trask snorted in sour amusement. “I was unconscious when they brought me aboard. You probably know more than I do.”

 

Istara shook her head. “Not really. A rendezvous. Beyond that I have no idea. When I ask, the Mandos just ignore me.”

 

L’Trask shrugged. “They may not know. Will likes his secrets.”

 

“That he does.” Came another voice and Istara looked up to see Trava Kalan approach. The Mandalorian woman moved gracefully through the crowd of Mandos, some sleeping, some working quietly, some just sitting, waiting. She squatted on her heels beside Istara and looked the Bladeborn over. “Can you blame him?”

 

Istara laughed sourly. “No. Not with everyone in the galaxy after him now.” But there was something about Trava, something…resigned? Istara stared at the older woman. “Trava? What’s wrong?”

 

Trava shook her head. “Mandalorian business. Not yours.” Her words should have been cold or hard, but somehow, they were not. She sounded almost sad.

 

Istara looked at her and then she nodded. “If there is anything I can do to help... Maybe make something good come from this clusterfisk.”

 

Trava sighed, but then she stiffened. “You know… There might be. Mandalore has called the clan to meet with him.”

 

Istara blinked and then she blanched. “Um… isn’t the current Mandalore the one who is siding with the Empire?”

 

Trava nodded. “The last one was a puppet, we all knew that. So many of the clans simply ignored his call. This one though… We don’t know. He isn’t siding officially with Empire or Republic, but most of the clans are working for the Empire. We haven’t declared that we are against him, which is probably the only reason we still exist as a clan. The last time someone did that…” Trava shrugged.

 

Istara nodded. Her expression neutral. The last attempt by any clan to defy the current Mandalore had ended with the complete destruction of the offending clan. Men, women, children, pets, nothing had been spared. Mandalore had made his point though. “What would you need me to do? I wouldn’t think that Mandalorians would listen to outsiders.”

Trava smiled a bit sourly. “We don’t. But you are a descendant of Kiana.”

 

Istara blinked. “What?” It was clear the Bladeborn grandmaster was dumbfounded.

 

The Mandalorian Elder grinned at her expression. “Did you know that Kiana was Mando before Trugoy found her?”

 

Istara’s eyes went wide. “No… No I didn’t.”

 

Trava smiled. “It happened a long time ago, even by Mandalorian standards. There was a small clan, called Loku. And its youngest member, not even past her verd’goten, was named Kiana…”

<A little over nine hundred years in the past>

 

She would not cry. She would be true to the Resol’Nare, to clan Loku. Another sob nearly passed her lips as she stumbled yet again, her arm jarring her again as it swung useless from the shattered joint. She wasn’t sure if the shoulder was broken or the collarbone. In the end, it didn’t really matter. Either rendered the arm unusable. She thought she had gotten away, but she couldn’t be sure. They were certain to be hunting for any stragglers now. They couldn’t let any get away. Not after what they had done. She swore, yet again, that clan Juloic would pay for what had happened.

 

The unrelenting clan warfare of the Mandalorian people was a fact of life. The strong survived, and the weak perished. Or the weak used despicable tactics to achieve their ends. The first her small clan had known of an attack was when several of their number keeled over clutching their throats. Gas. A cowardly weapon, but an effective one. She had been ordered with the other children to take refuge while the clan’s warriors that remained fought the attackers who followed the gas. She and the other children had taken cover in the clan bunker and sniped at any enemy clan members who showed themselves. She thought she had killed one, perhaps two. But then the enemy had brought up artillery. She had watched In horror as her father, her mother, her brothers and sisters, all were cut down by shells from a monstrous machine. Then the machine had turned towards the bunker. She didn’t remember much after that, pushing, shoving, fighting to get free, running.

 

She bit her lip, determined to keep from crying. She was Mando. She was an heir to a warrior tradition that went back thousands of years. It would take more than some spineless fools from Clan Juloic to make her cry. She was alone, unarmed and unarmored in a wilderness, being hunted by warriors who wanted her dead. But she would not yield. She would not… Something changed and she threw herself to the side as a blaster bolt clipped the air where her head had been.

 

A voice laughed form the near distance. “Wayii! How can you miss a target at that range?” She scrambled into what meager cover was available and waited. “Come on out ad’ika, we will make it quick.”

 

She didn’t respond, moving slowly and carefully to stay in cover. Her father had taught her well. She had no idea how many enemies she faced. At last two, and armed, while she only had her wits.

 

Another voice spoke, this one female. It sounded angry. “All right, let’s go get her. Cover me. I want this osik done.”

 

She stiffened as two figures in beskargam appeared in the near distance. Both held blaster rifles. By the armor, one was male, and the other female. Both had markings of clan Juloic on their armor.

 

The male Mando spoke. “Come on out, ad. It’s over. I have a warm bunk waiting for me. Don’t make me search for you.” They were approaching her hiding place now and she was trying to make herself a hole in the ground. The bush she was hiding behind was small cover, but somehow she managed to get herself behind it, biting down on her cheek to keep from screaming as she bent her hurt shoulder the wrong way.

 

I am not here. There is no one here. The target has escaped. I am not here. There is no one here. She was repeating in her mind.

 

The male Mando shook his head and slowed his steps. “She is not here? Where is she? She can’t have gone far.”

 

The female Mando looked at her companion. “What have you flipped, vod? She has to be in that clump of bushes. Come on, let’s get her.”

 

“Something… “The male Mando sounded confused for a moment but then he snarled. “She’s a Jetii! Die witch!” He sprayed the bushes with blaster fire. The girl braced herself, but a stunning impact threw her out of the line of fire and into the open.

 

She froze where she lay, certain that she was going to die. But nothing happened. After a moment, she looked up to a scene of wonder. Both of the armored Mandalorians were staring, but not at her. A small brown form stood between her and her enemies. The figure was comical, long ears, three clawed hands and feet, she couldn’t see the face but… Something was wrong. Silver things that looked like weapon hilts were held negligently in both hands. But that made no sense. Where were the blades?

 

The figure spoke and the voice was cold. “Leave.”

 

Neither Mandalorian bothered to reply. Both raised their rifles, almost in unison and opened fire. An odd sound came to the girl’s ears, one she had never heard before, a snap-hiss and hum. But even not ever hearing t before she recognized the sound. A lightsaber. No! TWO! Two silver blades snapped to life in the small being’s hands and in a flash he was in motion. The girl watched in awe as the blaster shots that were aimed at the small being were deflected. One bolt that the female fired flew back and hit the female Mando in the faceplate. She dropped without a sound, the smoking hole testament that she would not get up again. The male Mando was backpedaling now, trying to gain distance. He fired a grenade from his rifle launcher and the girl watched in awe as the strange being in front of her made an odd motion with one of the sabers. The grenade reversed course in mid-flight! The male Mando had time to scream, but no more as the plasma grenade exploded in contact with his armor. When the glare had cleared nothing but the boots of that Mando remained.

 

She was shivering, both from shock and fear as she tried to get to her feet. Whoever this being was, she would die on her feet, like her family. The small being turned slowly and scrutinized her. His large eyes were the deepest blue that the girl had ever seen. Then she was falling, slowly. So slowly…

 

When she woke, she did so fast. Harsh training had taught her that. She cracked her eyes and found herself in a small building. Maybe a shed or a hut? She couldn’t tell. It was dark. She tried to move and couldn’t. She blinked and checked what she could feel. One arm, the one with the broken shoulder, was immobilized across her chest. The other moved easily and she breathed a sigh of relief.

 

The voice of the strange being spoke from nearby. “Good morning.”

 

She spun her head to look and the small, brown skinned alien was sitting there looking at her with an inscrutable expression. She slumped. “Am I your prisoner then?”

 

The brown skinned alien shrugged. “I was curious to see why a whole clan of Mandalorians were out hunting. They say you killed your clan. You murdered them with gas and then blew up the evidence.”

 

The girl’s eyes went wide. “Those lying Juloic scum! Ill tear them...” She struggled to rise and the battle in her shoulder intensified from a skirmish to an all out war. She collapsed back to the bed, panting. But then she slowly sat up. “I will not let them win.”

 

The alien nodded. “Then don’t. I am Trugoy.”

 

The girl nodded slowly. “I am called Kiana. What do you intend?”

 

The small form sighed. “That is a very good question, Kiana. I walk the line between darkness and light, between what many call good and evil. I have done a lot of evil recently, so when I was given the chance to help you, I did. I like to think I would have done it anyway, but… I don’t know. Things have changed so much… While I slept…” His voice was musing, distracted.

 

Kiana stared at her…rescuer? Captor? Keeper? He hadn’t said she wasn’t a prisoner. And while her family had never had any dealings with Jetii or Darjetii, she had heard all kind so stories about them. She managed to keep fear out of her voice with effort. “What are you going to do with me?”

 

Trugoy made a rude noise. “Well, I am not about to leave you to those scum. Even for Mandalorians, those people are nasty.”

 

Kiana felt rage blossom in her heart and she rolled to her knees and then struggled to rise. “You know nothing!” She yelled as she tried to swing her good arm at the stranger. If she had been thinking clearly, she would have been appalled at her own stupidity. This being had beaten two fully armed and armored Mando warriors. She was unarmed, unarmored and hadn’t even passed her verd’goten. But she was not thinking clearly. He evaded her clumsy strike easily and stepped back.

 

Trugoy’s voice was calm. “If you leave this place they will find you and kill you.”

 

Kiana snarled at him. “Better to die on my feet than live on my knees! You vaar'ika!” She staggered a step. Two steps and then she collapsed, sheer force of will only taking her so far. She lay on her stomach, feeling her eyes burn and trying with all her might and stubbornness to keep the tears at bay. Gentle hands rolled her onto her back.

 

Far from angry, Trugoy sounded amused. “’Pipsqueak’, is it? Child, you have more guts than sense.” He looked away for a moment. “You remind me greatly of beings I used to know.”

 

“I don’t want your pity!” Kina ground out as she tried to get up again, but this time her body wouldn’t obey at all. And the world was fading? Or she was.

 

A gentle hand traced her brow and Trugoy’s voice was quiet. “Rest Kiana. We will talk when you are better.” Something passed into the girl, warming, soothing, numbing. She felt light and free from pain for the first time in a long time. As the girl nodded off, she heard Trugoy speak. “’When the student is ready the master will appear’, they always said. Silly me, I never thought to be a master.”

<The present>

 

The elder’s words echoed through the silent bay, All activity had stopped while Trava had told the story. “…and then Kiana went with Trugoy. She went on to gain her revenge and become the first of your order.”

 

For several minutes after Trava finished speaking, there was silence. Then Istara nodded. “You know, I never knew that part. I only knew that Trugoy found her. Not where or how, or why she had been so hurt.” The former grandmaster of the Bladeborn had been, until his death, famous (or infamous depending on your point of view)for doing just that. Taking hurt and broken children and turning them into warriors. Istara smiled grimly. “So the fact that I am a member of the order she helped found may help you when you face Mandalore?”

 

Trava shrugged. The Elder had taken a seat nearby to tell her story. “Couldn’t hurt.”

 

"Well..." Istara sighed. “That is what I thought about talking to the Stormhawk. Silly me.” She said with a grimace. “I want to make this right and I can’t.” She stared at the two body bags nearby. Then she sighed again. “But dwelling on failure is what gets Sith so moody.” She laughed sourly. “I am not a Sith.”

 

Everyone stared at her and the Bladeborn shrugged. “I’ll go check on Cole.” She rose quickly and with a half bow to Trava and L’trask, strode carefully out of the bay towards the cockpit.

 

The Trandoshan doctor and the Mandalorian warrior shared a glance. In unison, they snorted. “She be nuts….” They chorused and laughter swept the bay.

 

In the cockpit, Istara found Cole where she had expected. The smuggler sat stiffly in the pilot’s chair. The Bladeborn could see bandages peeking out from various places under the smuggler turned agent’s clothes. But his gaze was on the tunnel of hyperspace through the viewport and from his expression, he didn’t see it.

 

"Cole." Istara sat in the gunner’s seat and spoke softly. “I am sorry Cole. It was a stupid idea. I…” She shook her head. “I hate failing. I especially hate failing people I love. I don’t know what we are going to do now.”

 

For several minutes silence reigned supreme, then Cole finally spoke. “Not your fault, Istara. Hell, you had them eating out of your hand. Your argument was persuasive, clear and concise. And then that crazy woman blew it all. I am glad Will shot her, I just hope he killed her.”

 

"Me too." Istara nodded, her face hard. “Whatever happens to her is not enough for the pain she caused. For the death she caused. Idiot witch. Juli is alive, Cole. Hold to that.”

 

"Yeah." Cole nodded slightly. “I know. I keep telling myself that she is alive. That there is hope. But… I…” He broke off and Istara sighed as she moved closer.

 

“Come here Cole.” She embraced the man and he pillowed his face into her shoulder. She held him as he shuddered and finally, for the first time in a long time, cried in front of a stranger. Not that she was, now.

 

After several minutes, Cole sighed and slumped back. “I better not do anything else. I don’t want Idjit mad at me.”

 

Istara smirked. Idjit, the blind resident seer of the Bladeborn, was a holy terror in all kinds of ways. Including between the sheets, she thought fondly. “He knows I don’t stray.” Istara said quietly. “He also knows that my duty as Grandmaster means I have to love the entire group. Not just the loveable ones like Ona, but the *****ly ones like Jon. Like you.”

 

"Istara...?" Cole turned to stare at her. “If I didn’t know better, I would say you just said you love me.”

 

Istara smiled. “Is it so hard to understand? No, I am not ever likely to sleep with you. But my love is not a cup. It can’t be emptied. I love all of my kin. I love Juli, and yes, I love you.”

 

Cole was shaking as Istara drew him into another embrace. “We are going to get you to your bride, Cole Shanas. Then you have a lot of healing to do. Juli will need you. She will need you strong, so… Brother. You need to sleep.”

 

Cole blinked at her. “Who will fly the ship?” He made a small smile, he had shown Istara few things about flying during the trip out, but he was privately of the opinion that the only safe place for her to fly was in a simulator.

 

Istara smirked. She was not self conscious of her inability to fly. It had never been important. “Any of the Mandos can. You said it’s on autopilot, right?”

 

Cole snorted. “Yeah. According to the timer, we have eight hours till the rendezvous.”

 

Istara smiled. “Get some sleep Cole. You need it.”

 

Cole looked at her, and then nodded. He stood up and staggered. Istara caught his arm and steadied him until he could walk. He nodded to her and strode from the cockpit. Istara sat for a moment before keying a viewscreen to check the passengers. The Mandos in the bay were all busy or sleeping. She switched cameras and saw L’trask sitting by Juli’s bed, a sorrowful look on the Trandoshan doc’s face. The girl’s face was ashen, pale and drawn from pain that even medication couldn’t fully dull. Again Istara cursed the crazy woman who had hurt the girl she liked and loved. But then, she couldn’t find Zinoa. Istara blinked, it wasn’t a large ship. Where could the other Trandoshan have gone?

 

The hatch opened and Istara spun to see the young female Trandoshan standing in the hatch. Zinoa nodded to the viewscreen. “Checking up on us?”

 

"Well..." Istara nodded, her face sad. “Yeah. I have been blindsided too many times today.”

 

"Yeah." The young Trandoshan nodded. “I understand. I wanted to say ‘I am sorry’.”

 

"Sorry?" Istara blinked. “For what?”

 

The Trandoshan slumped, dejected. “I was standing beside One Eighteen, Brianna, when she shot you. I should have stopped her. I should have… If only I had…”

 

Istara stared at the Trandoshan, that wasn’t a tone she had ever heard from one of the proud warrior race. But then she shrugged. “Not your fault. If it’s anyone’s it is mine. I should have known it was a bad idea.”

 

Zinoa sat in the pilot’s chair, careful to keep her claws from the controls. “No, it was a good idea. Just… Not complete.”

 

Istara shook her head. “I should have known better. Two of your kin are dead because of me.”

 

Zinoa shook her head as well. “Not because of you. Because of Jaken, Brianna and others whose hate overpowered them. You know about hate.” The Trandoshan woman’s voice was quiet and Istara nodded. “You had me sold, you had most of the crew sold. When Brianna… I… I just can’t believe it.”

 

Istara’s voice was quiet. “Believe it. Denying it doesn’t work.”

 

Zinoa was silent for a long moment and when she spoke it was quiet. “Do you mind if I sing?”

 

Istara looked at the Trandoshan. “Sing?” She asked carefully.

 

"Yeah." Zinoa smiled sadly. “It’s what I do.”

 

Istara shrugged. “No, I don’t mind. It will pass the time.”

 

The Trandoshan nodded and opened her mouth. But instead of the rough and crude tones of usual Trandoshan singing, what came out of the female’s fanged mouth had Istara blinking in shock. It was pure, clear and soft. But at the same time, it was intense and sad.

 

“

”

Istara watched in envy as the ship decelerated from hyperspace under Zinoa’s expert guidance. Who knew that a being whose main purpose was to sing could fly?

 

Zinoa looked at the Bladeborn and smiled. “I always liked to fly. And Will is an excellent teacher. A hard teacher, mind you…” The Trandoshan winced, just a bit in memory. “But an excellent one. He has forgotten more about flying than you or I will ever learn.”

 

Istara licked her lips. “Do you know…?” She began and then broke off as Zinoa looked at her.

 

The Trandoshan sighed. “Yes. I know he is dying. He told us. We…” Zinoa stared at her instruments but obviously was not seeing them. “We can’t do anything to help him. All we can do is persevere. It is what he would want us to do. What the…?” She turned back to her controls as space lit up nearby. “Oh boy…”

 

Istara blanched as she made sense of the sensor display. Space was big, everyone knew that. But the odds of finding a force of pirates in the same system that Will had planned a rendezvous in? Those were, in a word, astronomical. Something had happened. Two larger ships, cruiser class, were backed up by over a dozen fighters.

 

Zinoa threw the small ship into an evasive pattern. She hit the intercom. “Everyone hold on! Incoming fire!” Her claws danced over the controls making the ship dance as well. “Istara, take gunnery. It is taking all I can do to fly this thing.”

 

Istara nodded and powered up the ship’s main guns. She stared at the readouts. How the flarg did a ship this size have eight cannon? Quad guns in turrets dorsal and ventral. She also saw an icon she didn’t recognize, something that was reading as charging up. “What is this?” She asked as she slewed the dorsal turret around to shoot at a pair of incoming fighters.

 

Zinoa looked at the readout before turning her attention back to flying. “Dunno.” She said tersely.

 

Istara may not have been able to fly, but she did know gunnery. She smiled in delight as the guns tracked smoothly onto an enemy ship. She fired and the bolts flew true. It exploded. She shook her head. The pirates were using old designs, true, but even old designs should have been able to take more than one shot. Whatever Will had for guns on this thing, they were powerful. She fired again, damaging the second enemy ship. It spun away, hurt but still capable. But now the others were closing.

 

"Transport..." The comlink lit up and a harsh voice spoke. “Surrender now, and I might let you live.”

 

Istara and Zinoa looked at each other and snorted in unison. Istara keyed the com system. “If you surrender now, I might let you live.”

 

Zinoa chortled but then threw the ship into an evasive pattern that had the inertial compensators screaming. Without those, the occupants would have been mashed into paste against the closest bulkheads as fast as they were going. Then she stared at her screen. “Istara… I think I know what that charging icon was…”

 

Istara blew another enemy fighter away and struggled to get a lock on another. The pirate fighters refused to close now. Wise of them, but the long range fire that they sent at the ship peppered its shields. And with them staying away, she couldn’t get easy locks. “Little busy at the moment…”

 

Zinoa’s voice was savage now. “Hold them off us. Just have to… Whoa!”

 

Istara couldn’t tear herself away from her screen to see what had caused the exclamation. What she did see were two huge balls of green…something…that flew towards the closest large ship. “What the hell are those?” Istara asked as she fired. Ashla was with her and her bolts flew true. Another pirate fighter exploded. “That looked like Islanian plasma fire.”

 

Zinoa didn’t answer, the Trandoshan was busy dodging the fire from both cruisers now. Then the Trandoshan cursed. “Damn it! I missed…” The Trandoshan shook her head. “We have to get closer.”

 

Istara scowled. “Ah, Zinoa… We are a bit outnumbered here… I don’t think…” The ship rocked as something made its way through the shields and cratered the hull. “Evade!”

 

Zinoa was already throwing the ship into another tortuous maneuver. A twisting, rolling turn that had both of Istara’s gun turrets whining to track their targets.

 

Zinoa scowled. “I can’t dodge them forever. Now what?” The ship rocked again and Zinoa blanched. “We just lost our aft deflector shield.

 

Istara took in the situation at a glance. She was no pilot, but their options had just slimmed dramatically. There were eight enemy fighters remaining and the two cruisers were turning onto incept vectors. She started keying controls. This she did know how to do. “Bring us about.”

 

Zinoa stared at the Bladeborn. “You are switching all power to the forward shields? You want to attack them?”

 

Istara rotated her guns until they faced forward. “What choice do we have? Until Will gets here, we are on our…own…” Her voice broke off as another ship appeared in the near distance. But it wasn’t the Dragon, Will’s personal ship. This one was huge. Then she saw the name and started laughing. “Oh man…”

 

Zinoa shouted. “Yes!”

 

Cranna the Hutt’s battleship ‘Poke in the Eye’ opened fire on the startled pirate cruisers. A motley assortment of fighters launched from the rogue Hutt’s ship as well. What they lacked in uniformity, they more than made up for it in sheer power and skill as they tore into the disorganized pirate fighters.

 

Istara blinked as a red light came on nearby. She stared at it. It was on the com board. “The pirates are sending a transmission. Um… Oh no… Can we jam it?”

 

Zinoa stared at her gunner and then shook her head. “Um… No… This ship doesn’t mount jammers powerful enough. I don’t THINK so anyway. Will is awfully tightlipped about it. Why? Who could they be calling?”

 

"Zinoa..." Istara shook her head. “Think about it. Why would they have such a powerful force here to greet us?”

 

"They..." Zinoa stiffened. “They wouldn’t. A trap for Cranna!”

 

Istara hit the com. “Cranna, it’s a trap. Get out of here!” Zinoa exhaled sharply as multiple new contacts blossomed on the screens. A battleship, five more cruisers, a carrier and something else. Something that Istara couldn’t identify.

 

“What is that?” The Bladeborn asked. The ship was weird looking. In size, it was maybe a hundred meters long, but slender. It had two massive engines, and did not seem to be mounting any guns. But its purpose was clear as it accelerated towards Cranna’s battleship at insane speeds for something that size.

 

Zinoa shook her head. “I have never seen one, but that has to be a ramship. It’s got to be automated. Maybe I can… Oh no…” She shook her head as an alarm chimed. “Radiation warning…”

 

"Radi- Oh crap..." Istara felt all the blood leave her face. “It’s carrying a nuke.”

Istara stared at the unfolding battle that she and Zinoa were unwillingly observing. Cranna’s ship, while heavily outnumbered, was pounding the crap out of all of her enemies. But the strange ship carrying the nuke closed on the renegade Hutt’s battleship quickly. The Bladeborn shook her head. “Is there anything we can do?”

 

Zinoa sighed. “This ship has two escape pods. Get everyone into them.” Her voice had turned flat. Istara looked at the Trandoshan and for once the young lizard’s face was angry. “They are not going to get away with this.”

 

Istara shook her head. “We launch anything and the pirates will burn it, likely. We ticked them off.” That was putting it mildly. Five pirate fighters were still after them, firing away. Istara spun the ventral turret, expertly leading one of the fighters and fired a full quad blast. The fighter shuddered and exploded. She grinned. She might not be able to fly for some weird reason, but she could shoot. “Yes! Four now. Can the guns on this thing stop that monstrosity?” She indicated the ramship with a nod.

 

Zinoa thought hard as she threw the ship into another torturous evasive pattern. “To do so will mean I have to hold the ship steady while I line it up. You know what the fighters and other ships are going to do when I do, right?”

 

Istara nodded slowly. “Do it.” Zinoa nodded an threw the ship into another evasive profile, but this one took it towards the main fight. The enemy fighters chasing them, startled by the odd choice for an outgunned and outnumbered ship, were out of position and had to struggle to catch up.

 

Another voice came. “What the hell?” Trava Kalen staggered onto the small bridge and pulled herself into a seat. “Oh… I will take the dorsal guns.” Istara nodded sand transferred control of the top turret to Trava who immediately opened swung the guns around. She fired and it looked like she missed, except a pirate fighter flew into her bolts and exploded. The woman was in full armor, but a feral grin showed even through her visor. “Gotcha! I love deflection firing.”

 

Istara shook her head. “Plenty for the both of us.” She said as she tried to emulate the warrior’s shot and missed. She sighed and opened herself to Ashla. As always time seemed to slow. The enemy fighters that had been flitting to and fro seemed to move like melted hard candy. Her chosen target flew into an evasive pattern, but it was one the pilot had used before. Istara led the fighter and fired.

 

Trava laughed as the enemy fighter exploded. “Good shot. We will make a ram’ser out of you yet.” She fired again, and another enemy ship exploded. How long until we are in range of that ramship?”

 

"Not sure." Zinoa shook her head slowly. “I want to get as close as I can. I have never fired these weapons before now.”

 

"Right." Trava nodded. “Don’t get too close. It is almost certainly on a proximity trigger. Contact wouldn’t work very well with how that thing is armored. The back end would go poof and the front end would keep... going…” The Mandalorian broke off.

 

"Like..." Istara blanched. “A spear?”

 

Trava nodded. “What better way to aim for the heart? Can you target the engines of…. Aw crap.” More fighters were turning from the main fight now, arcing towards them.

 

The voice from before came over the com again. “Nice ship you have there. I think I will add it to my collection.” Ion blasts were coming from two of the cruisers now.

 

“What an or’dinii.” Mandalorian for fool. Trava shook her head as she fired. “Spast! Missed… Come here you lousy little…!” She fired again, but the fighter proved to value survival over attack, and fled the battle.

 

Istara fired as well, but the enemy fighters were now fully aware of how powerful the ship’s guns were. They maintained their distance, firing when they could. The small ship took dozens of glancing hits and Zinoa snarled as she worked to keep the shields up.

 

Then the Trandoshan smiled, an evil look totally out of place on her sweet face. “Gotcha!” As before, twin balls of green plasma arced from the front of the ship, but this time, they flew square and true, impacting the back end of the odd shaped ramship. The ray shields ignored the physical impact and the particle shields had never been designed to handle such localized, massive heat sources. Laser blasts, sure, but things that hit and burned, and burned, and burned? Not hardly. One of its engines went dark, and the other lost a lot of radiance as the plasma burned into the lightly armored aft end, causing critical damage. Suddenly the ramship went dead in space.

 

Trava shouted. “Get us out of here! The thing is going to….” Whatever she was going to say was lost as the universe went white.

 

***

 

Istara woke suddenly, aware of pain. She wasn’t in the seat anymore. She was lying on a bed. She could hear medical equipment around her and when she cracked her eyes she nodded slightly but grimaced. It hurt to move. She was in a medical bay. She sighed. She had woken in so many of them recently.

 

A voice from nearby had Istara turning. Zinoa lay in a bed nearby. She could see other beds as well. “That was some ride, Istara.” The Trandoshan said with a smile.

 

Istara blinked, her vision was fuzzy. “Radiation poisoning?” She asked.

 

Zinoa nodded. “You and I got the worst. Trava was armored and the others were shielded by the bulk of the ship.”

 

Istara stretched a bit and then grimaced again. Modern medicine could treat radiation poisoning, but it was no fun, hence the pain she felt. “Fair enough. But… Where are we?”

 

Zinoa sighed. “Cranna’s ship. They pulled us in after the nuke went off.”

 

Istara shook her head. “Zinoa, there were a bunch of ships left. Did Cranna run?”

 

Zinoa shook her head and her face was remote. “No. Will arrived. The pirates ran. One of the battleships and the carrier escaped.”

 

The door opened and Will Kalenath strode in. His face was remote, but it lit up on seeing Istara looking at him. “Morning sleepy head. Someone wants to talk to you.” Another form appeared behind Will and Istara stiffened as the very recognizable form of Cranna the Hutt slithered in behind Will.

 

Cranna smiled widely. “Thank you. You and your people saved my crew, my ship and my life. I understand from Will that your kin are in a bit of trouble?”

 

Istara nodded, unsure if she could speak. This being was unlike any Hutt she had ever seen. For one thing, Cranna spoke Basic. Most Hutts did not. Of course, Cranna hated the rest of the Hutts. For all kinds of reasons, but the main one was that she had been enslaved by another Hutt for over four hundred standard years.

 

"Well." Cranna spoke again. “I am afraid you have more therapy to get the toxins out. But after that, we will talk. I can think of a few places, out of the way places, where you order would be welcomed.”

 

"But..." Istara finally found her tongue. “I thought you hated the Sith.”

 

Cranna grinned. “I do. But you are not Sith. You are Bladeborn.” All of the other occupants of the room laughed at Istara’s expression.

 

Istara smiled a bit shell shocked. “Thank you, Cranna.”

 

Cranna nodded and extended a pudgy hand which Istara took. “I pay my debts, Istara Sharlina Adnal, Grandmaster of the Bladeborn.” Istara bowed her head. What could she say? Cranna gave her hand a squeeze and nodded as she released it. “Now the docs have to have their wicked way with you both. That was nuts Zinoa. Sheesh, charging a live nuke is the kind of crazy thing Will or I might have done.”

 

"Yep." Will snickered. “’Do as I say and not as I do’, huh Cranna?”

 

Cranna made a noise that took Istara a moment to recognize as a chuckle. She had never heard a Hutt chuckle so freely, so merrily, so happily. “You hush.” She nodded to Istara. “Rest well, warrior. When you wake again, we will talk.” A pair of white garbed beings appeared in the door and Istara sighed as Will and Cranna left. This would not be fun, or easy. But then again, she never did like easy…

It had been a long day. Istara was sick and tired. The sickness was from the various means that the docs had been forced to use to cleanse the radiation from her body. Ashla, the precursor to the modern interpretations of the light side of the Force, was powerful. She had used her meager knowledge of healing to speed things up both for her and Zinoa, but there were limits. The tired was from using Ashla in ways she hadn’t practiced and well…the other…

 

Her body rebelled again from the treatment the docs were giving her. Her stomach cramped and she was too weak from the treatment and her own body’s reactions to it to move. Luckily, she was under close observation. Gentle hands moved her and held her in place; her head was held in gentle fingers and rolled to the side as she expelled what little was left in her stomach. She cursed but didn’t fight as something warm, moist and soft wiped her face and the hands rolled her onto her back. Then something else that was warm and moist covered her eyes and forehead. It helped her headache. They couldn’t give her regular painkillers, not with the anti-radiation meds already in her body.

 

"L'trask." Istara kept her eyes shut. “Please tell me that is the last of it, Doc.” She tried to keep the plaintive note out of her voice and mostly succeeded.

 

"It is." A clawed hand tapped her cheek. “It’s over, Istara. That’s the last of the treatment. You should feel like eating again soon.”

 

"Eating?" Istara didn’t bother to restrain a groan. “Not anytime today I think…” Considering how much of her innards she had expelled in disgusting manners over the course of the last several hours, she was amazed that she could talk at all. “Geez, L’Trask, being tortured wasn’t as bad as this.”

 

The Trandoshan healer sighed. “That is because when you are tortured, you can focus on your torturer. You can hate him, her or it. But this…? How do you hate your stomach? Or your lungs?”

 

Istara smiled wryly. “After a day like this? Easily.”

 

L’Trask chuckled at her tone. “Well, you should be fine. Give yourself what time you can. I would recommend you sleep as much as you can. You can stay in the bed if you wish. But I know your kind very well indeed.”

 

"Yeah, I wish." Istara sighed. “But…too much to do.” She grimaced a bit. “Besides, this bed and I have an unfortunate history.”

 

L’trask was chuckling as he removed the IVs. Istara didn’t move as he deftly disconnected her from the medical monitors as well. “Crazy Bladeborn. Take it easy. I know you are tough, but radiation poisoning is no joke.” This last was serious and a bit sad.

 

Istara nodded, and then she waited patiently as the cloth over her eyes was removed. When she opened her eyes, L’trask was there and she smiled at him. But what she sensed from him… She reached out. “Who did you lose to radiation poisoning, doc?”

 

L’Trask sighed. “Not radiation poisoning per say. Cancer caused by the treatment. I…” He turned away.

 

Istara got up slowly, cursing her body’s weakness and knocking it until it obeyed her. She reached out a slow hand and placed it on the Trandoshan’s shoulder. “What happened?”

 

The doctor didn’t turn. “I made a mistake. I gave my patient too much of several of the counter agents. But she had taken so much… If I hadn’t she would have died. Then she died anyway. I hate losing patients.”

 

Istara embraced the gentle lizard. “She wasn’t just a patient was she?”

 

L’Trask shook his head. “No, she was a friend. And the rest isn’t my secret to tell.”

 

Istara nodded. “Then I won’t pry.” But she had suspicions. The Stormhawk Boss she had seen on Korriban had died, spectacularly. There was simply no way at all that a being could be put back together when his body was atomized. Not even Ashla or the Force could do that. Add to that the…odd feelings she had received when dealing with Stormhawk Boss. She had dealt with way too many men who wore armor to have any doubts that a woman was hidden under that helmet. But it wasn’t her business. “How is Juli?”

L’Trask slumped. “I don’t know Istara. I can’t rouse her. I have tried everything I can. There was just too much power running through her. She retreated so far, I can’t get to her.”

 

"Hmmm." Istara thought hard for a moment. “Let me think on this. I may know a way to get through to her.”

 

L’trask turned to face her, his face guarded. “Is this a Force thing?”

 

Istara shrugged as she stepped back. “Sort of. She is my responsibility though. If I can help her, I will. You have my word.” No scream could have been more definitive than Istara’s quiet oath.

 

L’Trask shook his head. “Don’t push you-… Oh who the heck am I talking to? Like you will listen to me?” He chuckled a bit sadly.

 

"Oh I listen, most of the time." Istara smiled. “Where do you have her?”

 

L’Trask looked at her. “You might want to put some clothes on first.”

 

Istara stared at him and then at herself. She wasn’t wearing anything. She hadn’t realized they had stripped her. But it made sense for treatment. And she had been seriously out of it at times. The Bladeborn shook her head. “Docs… Always wanting to see me in the buff.” L’trask looked at her and opened his mouth, only to shut it with a click as Istara glared at him. “Don’t say it. I don’t kill healers. Nothing in my code says I can’t hurt them. Clear?” But her smile belied her dangerous words.

 

L’trask was laughing as he pulled a ship suit from a drawer. “We pulled some clothes for you. Your armor; and weapon are there. He waved towards a table nearby where, indeed, her armor and sword sat. It didn’t look like any had been touched except to get them off of her.

 

Istara pulled the suit on and then paused. Armor would intimidate and she didn’t want to cause any more problems today. She strapped the sword on and nodded to L’trask. “Let’s see if we can help Juli.”

 

<Drumond Kaas>

 

It was very dark in the chamber, the better to disorient, to confuse, to terrify. A soft, menacing voice spoke. “This is only going to end one way, beast. Tell us!” Energy crackled and a sound that might have been a strangled scream came. “Why did you betray the Empire?” Now the voice turned silky. “Come on Reekia, this does not have to be like this.”

 

Reekia, Masterblade of the Bladeborn, raised her eyes to her tormenter and sneered. <Is that the best you can do?>

 

The Sith, being a Sith, reacted to the insult in a traditional manner. Lightning crackled again and the Wookiee Bladeborn convulsed in her bonds, but did not scream. “I will make you beg, beast. Your sentence is passed. Your betrayal of the Empire will be punished. You and your Order will die screaming.”

 

Whatever he might have expected, he did not expect the Wookiee to start laughing. <You really believe that you can manage to do that? You truly are a moron.>

 

Another voice answered her, in Shirwook. A human sized shadow detached from the wall and strode forward. <Not him, Bladeborn. He truly is an idiot, as you have proclaimed.> Even in the darkness, the cloaked and cowled figure’s disdain was clear. The torturer froze. “Begone.” The quiet word was a command and the torturer scuttled from the room. The Wookiee stared at the newcomer, and her face was a mask of concentration. <Relax, Reekia. Just relax and let me in.> The Wookiee shook her head as far as the bonds that held her would allow. Which wasn’t far. She didn’t speak. Tendrils of power swept over her, caressing, prying, seeking entry. <What is this…?> The voice held shock now. <Trugoy slain…? Oh… My dear… I am sorry… What… No!> the man shouted as he started towards her.

 

<You… lose…> The Wookiee managed to grind out as she fell unconscious. No, not unconscious, her breathing stopped! She had managed to will herself to die. It took great effort and great power, but it was possible, especially for those who used the Dark Side.

 

The cowled form jumped to the side of the table, cursing softly. “And you called him an idiot?” It touched her on the side of the head and after a moment, she coughed and screamed. “It’s okay, sister. It’s okay…”

 

<This is...not possible...> The Wookiee’s voice was hushed, full of pain, grief and fear now. <Who… Who are you…?>

 

The cowled form nodded as he began to undo her restraints. “My name is Bob.” The Wookiee stiffened, but the cowled form shook his head. “Come on! We don’t have a lot of time before that underling overcomes his fear and reports. We have at most fifteen minutes to escape the citadel.” He released the final restraint and the Wookiee fell from the frame to land heavily. “Come on!”

 

Reekia rose on shaky feet to follow her…her rescuer? Her enslaver? What the hell was going on? She made it from the chamber, but then collapsed. “<Go…> She spoke softly. <Leave me to my fate…>

 

The strange being known as Bob shook his head. “This is not your fate, sister.> A pair of forms in medical tunics ran up with a gurney. Bob nodded to them. “Get her on it. I can confuse the issue until and unless we make too much noise. I can’t hide from the Emperor for long. But I can hide you. Samuel, Jen, get going!” The pair of disguised medics worked quickly, loading the unconscious Wookiee and covering the body with a sheet as if dead. “Samuel, whatever happens, just keep going. Get her out of here. She is our key.”

 

Samule nodded and the pair started the gurney off. Bob waited a moment before striding off in the other direction. Time to make some noise. He let his mental shields fall and instantly, the dark power around him started to assail him. A mind invaded his.

 

You

 

Bob didn’t pause. You may not know. You are not omniscient, just very powerful. Trugoy is dead. The Bladeborn are not traitors. Their loyalty was to him first, not to you. When he died, his oath enslaving them died as well.

 

You lie. The dark power was strong now as he continued, meandering towards the center of it. All around him, beings fell in their tracks, stilled into immobility or death by the sheer power that was crushing down on the being called Bob now.

 

Do I? Bob asked sarcastically in his mind. If the power was disturbing him at all, it was not apparent. Ahead of him he saw several forms bearing ignited lightsabers. Ha! You sent the whole Council who are on planet? I am…flattered. His grin was vicious as he strode forward. You should come yourself.

 

You are unworthy of my time. Where is the Wookiee? The Dark mind pressed on his harder, but he just grinned.

 

Out of your reach. Bob said as he drew a weapon of his own. But it was odd. It was a sword. But the hilt bore the recognizable mark of the Bladeborn. And then a lightsaber blade ignited from the bottom of it, giving the man two blades. Five dark forms strode to meet him and he smiled again, flipped them all the bird, and vanished. But his voice remained for a moment. See you all soon.

((Um... That was... unexpected. Comments or suggestions always appreciated. Flames might get thrown into a Force cage and, well... Brianna IS still around...))