Page 1

Restless fingers drummed an unknown rhythm against the leather arm of the captain’s chair. Tensions were high, forcing the air re-circulating systems to work harder to keep the vessel comfortable. On the bridge, all eyes focused intently on the view screen before them, as if it would reveal their prey before the sensor suite could. Throughout the ship the various crewmembers prepared for combat, checking weapons, suiting up in vacuum suits in case of a hull breach, whatever it took to stay alive and focused. As each station completed their particular process of preparation they began checking in to the bridge.

Cabrin responded methodically to the announcements from his friends and their status, “about damn time”, he mumbled to no-one in particular, “now if our target would be kind enough to show up.”

“What are you bitching about?” Alec plopped his tall, wiry frame into the unoccupied seat next to Cabrin in the crowded cockpit.

“Just ready to get this circus rolling already.”Cabrin stared out of the transparasteel cockpit searching every star in view in a vain attempt to locate their intended victim. Blinking lights and a multitude of chirps and beeps kept the two occupied as the ships computer monitored everything inside and outside. Cabrin silently hoped the new sensor array he had purchased and installed recently was worth the outrageous sum he had paid, not to mention the trouble he had gone through to actually retrieve it. So far everything seemed to be going well.

“This guy gonna show or what?” Tullarik’s voice was always annoying; it got worse when he grew impatient.

Cabrin turned to Alec “Remind me to introduce him to the Captains Locker when we get done here.” A slight grin crossed Alec’s face as he watched his friend key the internal mike. “Tullarik, keep your mouth shut…. He’ll get here soon enough.”

Cabrin could almost hear the gunner complaining through pursed lips about how no one appreciated his talents not to mention all the other things he was good for. Suddenly the sensor suite indicated the emergence of a vessel from hyperspace. Immediately, Alec’s fingers danced along the sensor console as he refined the signal.

“ Target vessel at two one zero degrees heading into the asteroid field. Time to intercept at current speed, one minute eighteen seconds.” Alec’s words were crisp and concise honed from years of similar encounters.

“ Ok boys, time for paybacks. Let’s hunt.” Cabrin announced over the ship internal communications suite. As he spoke, a constant thrumming began to pulse lightly
through the ship as he called upon the highly modified engines for more power. The power plants responded immediately forcing the sleek vessel through the shadows of
outerspace. With amazing precision Cabrin vectored the ship for an intercept as Alec called out range adjustments to the awaiting gunners. Just outside of maximum weapons range he transferred targeting and sensor data to the individual weapon stations so the gunners could maximize their firepower.

As the modified freighter made its approach for intercept it became apparent to Cabrin that they had finally been spotted. Cabrin’s smile told Alec his friend was in his “zone”, enjoying every moment as he zeroed in on the enemy. “You enjoy this stuff too much.” Alec’s own smile gave away his feelings as well.

The communications station cut off Cabrin’s reply as it chirped with the notification of an incoming transmission. “Unidentified vessel stand down your weapons and break off your attack. We request you identify yourself immediately.”

Alec looked over to Cabrin a smile still creasing his face as he said, “Hit it.”

With the flip of a switch Alec turned on the ships IFF transmitting its transponder code to the requesting vessel. Various curses and defamations could be heard just before a second request for identification could commence and the signal cut off by electronic countermeasures activated by Alec.

“Vensinian Starshine this is the Witch Hunt. Heave to and prepare to be boarded.”

* * *

“Sir we have a problem.” Talking through the door was getting very irritating for Aryl. He was beginning to wonder why he volunteered for this venture as it was, failing to remember the excellent pay among the other rewards lavished upon him by his boss. His train of thought was interrupted by the sound of the door opening.

“What’s the problem Aryl? Don’t I pay you to deal with my problems?” Irritation was thick in mans voice as he shot a glance back to the lithe form of a young woman waiting expectantly on the bed.

“Yes sir you do. But I don’t think I can help with this one.”

“Speak up man, what is it already?”

“It’s the Witch Hunt sir. She’s found us and chasing us into the field” Meron Val Kel Myr ran a crime empire operating in several systems. For years he has ordered the equivalent of an entire army to do his bidding. He had his own group of assassins at his beck and call to eliminate his rivals and anyone that crossed his path that he came to dislike. Corporations “contributed” monies to him for “rights” of free travel through his occupied space lanes. He has personally welcomed high ranking government officials on their knees as he secretly swore them to his allegiance to gain control of their systems through whatever means necessary including kidnapping and slavery, his companion was evidence of that alone. All of this and the man was standing before Aryl turning paler with every second.

“Sir. They are requesting we heave to for boarding.”

The seconds continued ticking away as Aryls words seemed to fall on deaf ears. “ Sir?”

Aryl took control of the situation as he keyed the ships com and ordered everyone to prepare to repel boarders. He struggled to maintain his balance as the yacht was racked by several blasts. Small fires erupted in various areas as electronics overloaded and blew circuits.

Meron, suddenly lurched back into reality, dove back into the confines of his stateroom and began to get dressed. He muttered curses under his breath as he slipped on his trousers. His bedmate struggled to cover herself with the sheets on the bed not quite aware of what was going on. She felt very little anyway with all the stim she had ingested, pity he thought as he stormed from the room “she was one of the better ones I had had lately.” His words were muffled by the chirps and whirring of the various maintenance droids skittering about trying in vain to repair the wounded vessel.

* * *

Cabrin effortlessly maneuvered his ship through the asteroid field while easily avoiding both asteroid and turret fire from the yacht. He seemed unimpressed and in was most definitely “in the zone” as Alec shot a quick glance at the pilot. Intense combat and space battles were what these guys lived for. Everyone aboard was the epitome of an adrenaline junkie. They laughed amongst themselves as the shots from their prey came close to the ship, sometimes too close followed by several choice words from Cabrin regarding possible damage to his beloved Witch Hunt. “They put one scratch on her and I’ll kill them myself.”

“How could you tell?” Alec’s comment made Cabrin glance at his friend with a smirk causing Alec to laugh a little harder.

“Would you mind working a little here?”

“Please. These guys are amateurs. Meron shouldn’t have tried to hide from us in his yacht. It shall be his undoing.”

The com crackled in Cabrin’s ear, “Would you mind calming down the fancy flying so we can get a decent shot?”

Cabrin shot a glance at Alec shaking his head, “Just shut up and get ready to board, Tullarik.”

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The Witch Hunt maneuvered alongside the disable yacht and extended a docking collar. Everyone aboard prepared for the boarding knowing there was going to be a firefight. The anticipation of action was like a drug. The five veterans waited until the collar pressurized watching intently through the transparasteel viewport at their prize. Jared stepped forward with his blaster rifle held at the ready position. Everyone knew their role in the boarding and Jared’s was to go first and clear a path for the others. It is what he lived for.

After the collar pressurized, Cabrin moved to the access hatch on the yacht and began working the security system. It took a minute to breach the codes and get the green light that would allow the hatch to open. “Get ready. Three…two…one…go, go, go!”

Jared burst through the hatch into the enemy vessel as several shots rang out from inside barely missing him. A single blast from his weapon sent a shot through one of the defenders, dropping him where he stood. Cabrin and the others followed right behind Jared returning fire in pre-established zones to cover the most area possible. Alec headed to the cockpit with Tullarik as Nigel and Cabrin broke for the crew quarters and engineering. Jared maintained his position covering the galley area exchanging fire with two more defenders.

As Cabrin rounded the corner to the passageway leading to engineering he ran head-on into a maintenance droid attempting to move forward to service it’s stricken vessel. Cabrin shoved the droid aside and snapped off two shots as one of the crew dove for cover into one of the staterooms. The smell of ionized atmosphere began to permeate the ship as the attackers continued pressing their enemy. As Cabrin approached the doorway the defender had dove into, he stopped. Nigel moved up behind him standing back to back with his friend covering the way they had come.
“Surrender or die. It’s that simple.” Cabrin’s voice echoed through the passage as the speaker in his helmet projected his command.

“Very diplomatic” Nigel stated still watching the rear.

“I thought so” Cabrin waited another couple of seconds and was about to turn the corner when suddenly the door opened and two empty hands slowly came into view. Cabrin switched his blaster to stun and waited for the man to come into full view before raising his weapon and firing. The man tried to step back only to slump to the deck unconscious. “How’s that for diplomacy?”

“Subtle…you’re showing your soft side again.” Nigel continued watching their back as Cabrin started to slowly continue down the corridor.

The sound of another door opening caused the two to focus their weapons down the corridor just as a barely clothed female stumbled out of one of the rooms. A glance told Cabrin she was jacked up on something as she reached for invisible floating objects which swarmed around her. Another shot from Cabrin’s pistol dropped the girl to the floor. As he knelt to drag her out of the way a metal cylinder bounced out of the room and into the corridor.

“Grenade!”

Both men dove for cover, Nigel jumping back around the corner and Cabrin diving into the still open bulkhead into the first room they had cleared. The explosion sent shards of metal in all directions, searing the air and shredding exposed flesh. It took several seconds for the area to clear of ricocheting metal and smoke.

Nigel poked his around calling out to his teammate “You ok?”

“I’m good.” Cabrin bounced his head out of the room and back into cover, quick flashing to see if anyone had come out after the blast. All he saw was the girl, her eyes fixed on the ceiling while gasping for breath. The grenade had bounced to the other side of the bulkhead she was laying against and apparently she had been hit by flying fragments. Blood began oozing from several wounds along her upper torso and neck. “Damn it.”

Cabrin keyed his com “Jared I need you back here, we have a casualty. Everyone else give me a sitrep.”

Page 1

Drifting lazily in a slow, sickening roll the LMI 14 waited for assistance in the lonely, blackness of space. It's life extinguished by some unknown accident, the dim light from a distant star was the barge's only comfort and warmth. Something barely felt in the empty space between the Kailen System and Brak Sector. It's call for help a beacon only heard by a distant ship's communication's suite.

Suddenly, out of the blackness a sleeker vessel entered realspace and was on a near collision course with the vessel. Slowing, the patrol craft slowly made a turn to port to avoid the ailing barge. Onboard, two crewmen in dark blue uniforms sat to the captain's right and monitored everything within range as lights of various tones and colors brightened the dimly lit cockpit.

Younger of the two, the lieutenant turned to the ship's captain. "Sir, I'm receiving a distress signal from the vessel which appears to be a X-Twenty-Three Barge. It's life support seems to be offline."

"Any survivors onboard," the aged veteran inquired, his stern gaze rose to the transparisteel window.

"Yes, sir. Five in the aft cargo bay." He studied the commander's face intently, waiting for further orders.

Nodding, the captain turned his gaze to the pilot. "Bring us in," he commanded then turned to the security chief. "Ready a team, just in case."

"Yes, sir." Dutifully, the partially armored sergeant nodded and turned towards the entryway, then disappeared.

* * *

In the tight confines of the cargo bay, Cymbrecia looked up from her pocket computer which had been linked to a camera in the cockpiit. "Here they come," she informed as the nervous adrenaline that had become the norm on this type of operation welled within.

"You owe me for this one," the taller gunner's blue eyes glared through the thinly masked helmet, his deep voice still holding power even through the life support suit.

A playful nudge from the copilot preceded a chuckle from his right. "For such a big guy, you sure complain a lot."

"This wasn't my idea," Korentin replied, nudging back and sending the Curry into the quiet mechanic as Armand shoved back.

"Hey guys, relax," the frustrated security specialist yelled through the muffled mask's comlink as Galen turned to Cymbrecia. "You sure this guy is worth all this trouble?"

Blue eyes turned to the fourth of her team. "Yes."

As they lingered in the darkness, the five crewmen waited for their rescue and soon heard the distant resounding pop of outgassing and she knew it wouldn't be long before the questions began. She listened to metallic footfalls on the hallway's thin tiles approach the main hatch to the cargo bay, then stop as Galen pushed through them and moved towards the small, inset panel to the right and manually opened it. They all waited quietly as light streamed through onto the wall of plastisteel crates hemming the anxious faces looking back.

"Hi," Cymbrecia greeted as helmet mounted lights turned to her, praying they weren't going to shoot first.

* * *

Once aboard the Gallow's End, she sat with her four companions in the galley as three guards posted at the door watched quietly, rifles at the ready. Across the blue, smooth table sat an officer in pressed uniform belonging to a Brak Sector marshal. His quiet, serious demeanor as he peered through their doctored ship's log helped her judge the first of many targets.

Steel-blue eyes soon looked up to her. "So, you were enroute to Enet from Laud, that correct?"

She nodded, her long, curly black hair loosely flowing behind the tightly fitting, dark blue body glove whose broad, black border around her neck stretched down the outside of both arms to the wrist leading to baggy, medium grey pants. "That's right. Had to make a drop at Jinet when the main reactor blew and took everything else with it." She shot him a sultry smile. "Just lucky you found us when you did."

"Hmm," his professional demeanor apparently unimpressed as he returned his eyes to the small screen. "How long have you all been together, Brandi," he looked back up to her. "That is your name, correct?"

"It is," she agreed and straightened in her chair and glanced down the table to her cohorts. "About four years now," blue eyes returned to the officer. "Why do you ask?"

The lieutenant shrugged. "Filling in all the blanks, that's all," he glanced up to her momentarilly, then back to the computer. "We've called for a tug to tow you to Jinet, so once they arrive you can embark on their vessel."

"That'd be great, I appreciate it."

He continued scanning the long list of details. "It also says that you reside on Bacrana. You originally from there?" This line of questioning was becoming a bit more personal than she liked, but played along.

"Yes. My family is mostly farmers," she lied.

He nodded quietly. "Galen Haag, ex-military. How'd you find yourself aboard the LMI-Fourteen?" She turned her attention to her friend whose light brown hair had been marred by the helmet.

"Needed a job," he stated, deadpan with arms crossed. For their sake, she hoped their stories would pass the marshal's test as Armand stood and motioned to the door.

"Mind if I hit the 'fresher," his face curled as left hand went to his stomach. "Something hasn't set well. Sorry."

"Sure," the officer straightened and motioned for one of the guards to accompany him and they both departed. It would only be a matter of time now, she thought. "You know," he glanced back to Cymbrecia. "I find it odd that you wouldn't be working for Lant Mining, a lot more money for a budding ship captain."

She smiled. "I know they don't like competition but, there are many other companies in the Sector that pay well too." Lant also had a close affiliation with the Empire whose attention was the last thing this crew needed. "I'm not looking to get rich," a comment that gained the attention from the remaining three at her side.

A smile finally cracked the law enforcement officer's face. "You're kidding, right?"

"No," she shook her head. "Must be the humble beginnings," a pressed grin followed as the comment couldn't have been further from the truth. One nearly uncovered as Curry coughed, trying not to laugh and she shot him an evil glare as he tried to recompose himself.

"Sorry," the copilot poured another glass of water and quickly drank.

Cymbrecia looked back to the lieutenant. "How soon did you say the tug would arrive? We kind of have a schedule to keep...as closely as possible."

"Within an hour or so." He finally turned off the computer and pushed himself up to stand, then nudged the chair back in. "We'll ask you to remain here in the lounge and you'll be notified when they arrive."

"Okay," she relaxed. "Thanks again for your help."

"No problem, that's why...."

Suddenly, the lights cut out and she sprung into action. From her belt, she pulled out a shank and stood, grabbing the officer's coat and upthrusting with the homemade weapon into his throat. As the other three charged the guards at the door, she rifled through his pockets and found the pass card she needed, then turned to the door as the scuffle and slumping bodies were illuminated by emergency lighting over the door. In their hands, Curry and Galen held the rifles as Korentin removed both men's stun sticks and handed her one as she approached.

"Go," she motioned as Curry led them out into the hallway, then headed right as gunfire was heard further down. "Next floor down, four doors to the left."

"We know," Galen replied as they quickly moved and cleared the near hallway, then continued down it to the turbolift. "You've only been drilling us with the floorplans for the past week," he replied, watching down the barrel of the stubbed rifle and moved to the keypad as she handed him the access card. As he pushed it in, the red buttons turned green and opened the lift, allowing them access as Korentin continued to the next hall and moved to help Armand.

She watched the numbers quickly indicate the next floor as adrenaline pumped, causing sweat to bead on her forehead. Sliding open, the thick doors revealed a patrol in dark uniforms who immediately were ambushed by the trio. Without thought, she stabbed the closest guard in the exposed flesh of his neck, then rammed it into the face of the one behind him as her companions shot them all. Once all four fell to the floor, they grabbed up rifles and unstrapped the belts, then continued on to the detention area.
Knowing they had little time, she glanced backward to note two crewmen duck into a room and shut the door. Hopefully they would stay there.

Once at the target door, she spun and crouched, then glanced to the e-clip. Full. Once she thumbed off the 'SAFETY', she kept watch as Curry did the same in the opposite direction while Galen did his magic on the security panel. All three avoiding the door's plane, she calmed her breathing and soon heard the whirring of a droid approaching. Concentrating on the nearest corner of the hallway they had just entered from, she waited.

"How long," she whispered to the security specialist.

"Working my magic, darling," he returned distractedly as she soon noticed the front, protected wheel of the droid round the corner and fired into it's midsection. Four shots found their marks and the last hit the faceplate directly, sending a shower of sparks into the nearby wall as the sentry went silent.

"Nice shot," Curry congratulated from the other side of the intrusion expert.

"It's in the blood," she replied, thoughts of family piercing the cold veneer she had thrown up to get their target free of prosecution. As she waited impatiently, Galen finally chuckled as the door opened and they heard the chaos of combat beyond. Blue eyes glanced into the melee as freed prisoners mobbed the few guards now trying to survive behind a small computer desk.

"Curry," she called and aimed at the nearest guard, then fired as both companions shot at the remaining defenders. Red bolts hit not only uniformed men, but also the wall and desk around the guards until a large group of angry faces turned to them. One in particular stepped from the crowd and smiled as he moved towards her, causing her to lower the rifle and step into the room. Relieved, she hugged him as he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her passionately.

Once letting her down onto her feet, brown eyes looked into hers. "Miss me?"

"You have no idea," she smiled broadly, then backed. "We've got a ship on the way so, we have to leave now."

He nodded, then turned to two other men in light green jumpsuits who appeared like a before and after picture. "Let's go." Neither one made her comfortable but, she didn't care right now as they quickly moved into the hallway and allowed the rest of the prisoners loot the ship and do what they wanted to the remaining crewmen and officers onboard.

Page 1

Quietly, the fifth planet in the Cabellan System rotated another day as it's single moon tried to keep pace on it's own course. It's pinkish skies shrouded thick clouds that lazily drifted over the westernmost arm of mountains which rose, encircling and separating Peralta Valley from the expansive Qedmah Moshab, the desert that commanded the southern half of the sparsely populated peninsula.
Atop a narrow clearing, Miriam knelt as she concentrated on her grandmother's tutelage, eyes closed intensely trying to master today's lesson. Her long, pure white hair - a truly Sarrelonian trait of her people - pirouetted and danced on the breeze which rose from the deep, river gorge below.

"Now, concentrate," Sianna instructed, sitting on the large, dark grey boulder to Miriam's right and the usual perch for her master in the arts of the universe. "Feel, don't think. When you experience the troubles of court, you can refocus yourself here, no matter where you may be. This is our refuge, Miriam."

Blowing out slowly, the fourteen-year-old student practised her meditation as she had been taught and soon felt the tendrils of life tied to the world that she called home. A flock of serja glided northward to some unknown destination and she could almost hear their heartbeats.

"Good. You've got it," the soft, motherly voice congratulated, praise that she treasured above all else and which subsequently lost her attunement into a jumble of confused mental swirling. Her solid, sky blue eyes opened as she gazed across to the verdant mountain face across the canyon, realizing how quickly success could be lost.

"Well, at least it's a start," Sianna grinned, her own deep blue eyes admired her granddaughter as Miriam glanced to her.

"How long did it take you to master this part, grandma?"

"Some time," she nodded, then rose as she glanced to her chronometer. "We should get back before your grandfather forms a search party."

Miriam stole one last look at the rugged peaks which stretched for miles before her and wished they could stay here a bit longer. Sighing, she pushed herself up and turned to head to her own awaiting noda. The tall, green skinned beast had been domesticated when her people had arrived here thirty-five years ago; victims of Trade Federation aggression. His oblong shaped head nuzzled it's owner as forest green eyes watched her climb into the saddle and rein it to the right, following Sianna's into the forest.

"Remember everything I've taught you for one day, you'll be carrying our name into the court, advising your cousin and helping rule our people," Sianna stated, guiding her noda through moss covered boulders hidden between tall, thick trees whose thick boughs nearly darkened their surroundings to that of nightfall.

"That will be a long time from now, grandma. I still have a lot of time to learn what I need to."

Sianna remained quiet which made Miriam nervous. The countess's ability to see the future was uncanny and always very accurate. "Have you seen something?"

"Just remember what I've taught you and you'll be fine."

Miriam soon allowed their journey through the deep greens occasionally broken up by splashes of reds, blues and yellows in various types of flowers, to relax her. They were together now, which was all that mattered.
Soon, the forest gave way to the estate's 'back yard'. Miles of open, green grass waved as she spurred her four-legged mount to the distant square grove of trees that surrounded a small pond. Thunderous footfalls kicked up dirt and grass as Sianna's mount pushed to catch up. Their white hair flowed behind both females as they neared their goal until suddenly, another rider emerged from that same corner, cradling a rifle and Miriam immediately recognized her father. Reining in her mount, the noda's long neck protested, then soon slowed to a canter as he quickly rode up, the barrel of his gun lowered to the distant treeline behind them.

"How many were there, mother," Tenri asked concernedly.

Sianna turned to follow his eyes, then returned. "How many what?"

"The Bolari have invaded, get to the house."

Miriam couldn't believe her ears.

"They wouldn't dare, those backwards animals don't have the technology to bypass our security network much less take on our navy," Sianna stated in disbelief.

"Uncle Bandai called and stated they have Imperial assistance. Get yourselves to the house, hurry."

Sianna immdiately spurred her mount on as Miriam stared at her father's stern face which soon turned to her. "Miriam, move. Now."

"Yes, sir." Heeling her steed, she pushed it around the box-shaped wood, passed the manicured, four-square garden that her grandfather had created with it's fountain centerpiece and on to the large, circular veranda that centered the cream colored, two-story mansion. She rode to the base of the marble stairway flanked by tall, trimmed bushes where her maid-servant, Tia waited and hopped down from the saddle as she noticed her grandmother enter the transparasteel door.

"I've packed your things and everything's prepared, my lady," her friend and servant informed. They had been together since they had each reached the age of five as was tradition for nobility.

"Why, where are we going?"

"To safety," her father stated, nearly pushing both teenagers around the pool and into the lavish living room where Miriam noticed servants packing up their valuables into large crates while others guided the hoversleds down into the basement for storage. It was then that the realization hit her. "Master Jeron is going to look after you until this is won," Tenri continued. "You're to look after your brothers for us," he shouldered his rifle and motioned to the entryway.

Miriam turned her attention to see her grandmother crouched before her younger brothers, Jabin and Izir and three acolytes of Kangavar, the martial compound that was to be their temporary home apparently. Walking up five steps and across the carpeted intersection that joined the dining room to her distant left with the library to the right, they walked into the marble floored foyer. Two sweeping staircases rose to the second floor above them and flanked a circular, deep green, velvet couch that rounded a highly polished table of marik wood whose dark swirling grain broke up the reflected vase above it.

"...And I want you two to listen to your sister and these students until we can gather you home, understood," Sianna finished as Miriam and Tia walked to her side.

"Yes, ma'am," Jabin answered quietly.

"Why can't we stay and fight with you," Izir wondered aloud. "You need someone to protect you from those beasts," the five-year-old stated.

'Because," Miriam interrupted. "We're going to do what our grandmother said, that's why."

"What do you know, you're just a girl."

Sianna straightened. "Get into the speeder, now."

Izir finally relented as he hugged her, turned and headed out to their mother as she quietly waited outside the front doors. After Jabin followed suit, Miriam walked up and hugged her mentor tightly.

"You take care of them and remember everything I've taught you. Our name rests on your shoulders now, make me proud."

Emotion began to well and Miriam hated to say goodbye.

"Save these for your private time. A lady never shows her emotions in public, you know this."

"Sorry, grandma," Miriam backed as she wiped her cheeks. Refocusing, she noticed the dark brown, wooden box that Sianna held out to her. Taking it, she eyed the intricately carved face and borders on the rectangular container.

"Take this and keep it safe," Sianna smiled, then motioned to her mother as Miriam nodded and headed to Dabei.

Turning, her mother quietly watched the three acolytes as they quickly led her brothers to the sleek vehicle in the circular drive. "I'm holding you to your promise," she eyed the older student.

"You need not worry, my lady. We'll protect them with our lives," Gilan stated.

Hugging her mother, Miriam then led Tia into the speeder and closed the door as she rested within the black leather seat, looking back through the window as her home and family disappeared from view beyond the forest that bordered the interior of the estate. North and west, they escaped as tiny flashes erupted in space above them.

Page 2

Whining, the speeder's engine pushed the vehicle through forested hills and on to narrow crevasses which their uniquely trained driver effortlessly maneuvered through. Master Jeron had become the renowned Master-At-Arms of the court and used his training in the ways of the Force to pass on his knowledge to many a student. Those who were able to graduate the initial training, that is.

Miriam tried to keep her mind on the here and now without allowing her fears to govern her heart. Even though her grandmother wasn't with them, she knew that the matriarch of their family had far reaching telepathy that was probably listening in on her thoughts now. Turning to the window, she watched as green and grey streaks sped by on their journey to Kangavar. Very few outside those who were going there to train were ever allowed to know it's location, but this was a special case.

"It won't take long to get there," Gilan informed to his quiet guests. "Just hold tight."

Soon, the mountains melted into verdant hills again as the sun dipped low on the western horizon, casting deep purple hues on the clouds and foliage. Banking to the right, Gilan navigated through narrow treelines, scraping the roof on several low branches as they sped by. After several near misses, he leveled the speeder to come head on into a line of high bushes and Miriam initially wondered if this was intentional.

"What are you doing," Jabin asked, then all ducked below the front seat, waiting for the collision with the small trees, but heard none. Suddenly, switches were tapped and the vehicle was stopped and Miriam's blue eyes turned and looked up through the window to see dark grey, smooth walls.

Opening the door, one of the acolytes stepped back and allowed her to step out into the large garage as droids busily tended to a freighter to the far left. The stench of the hangar soon wafted into her nostrils with strong, pungent odors that she couldn't place. Places like this had never been on her training agenda either.

"Welcome to Kangavar, my lady," the younger student said, his clean face and shortly cropped hair denoted an elder teenager, the white collar on his tunic a full-fledged student in his second term.

"Thank you," Miriam returned as Tia shouldered their packs and followed her on towards Gilan who awaited them at the front of the speeder. Stealing a glance at the entrance, she noticed the seam of the large door and realized that the bushes that they thought they were heading to must have been an illusion of some sort.

"Admit it," Izir chided as he followed on Jabin's heels. "You were scared."

"I was not," Jabin defended, glaring at his younger brother whose fiery personality wasn't reflected in his white flattop or small stature. "We all ducked, remember."

"You two stop it," Miriam spoke up, then turned to Gilan who then led them on to the right and entryway where she noticed an older instructor in blue robes whose wide grey borders fell low from his shoulders, broken up by a dark brown weapons belt which obviously contained a lightsaber.

"Welcome to Kangavar, my lady and lords. I'm Master Jorgan. Master Jeron won't be able to attend you but, he's left strict instructions as to your departure. We're preparing the vessel as we speak but, until that time you can rest and refresh yourselves."

Miriam smiled politely as he bowed, then turned to lead them into a main hallway. "Wait a second," Miriam interrupted. "We're not leaving the world. What's the ship for?"

Jorgan glanced back. "The countess instructed us to transport you from Antares to an old friend of hers who will continue your training, my lady. All the arrangements have been made."

Miriam stared at him, dumbfounded as she tried to make sense of what was going on. Nothing had been said about flight from their home. "Where are we supposed to be going?"

"I don't know the ultimate destination, for security reasons. But, Gilan, Colman and Arras will be your escorts to the one's that will take you to him," he motioned to the three acolytes.

"What's his name," Miriam was finding it difficult to control herself as the moments ticked by.

"I believe she said he was a master of the arts, much like herself. Master Celanon. He's apparently expecting you as we speak." He smiled politely, then turned and continued down the well lit hallway as Miriam followed, shocked at the news.

"How long ago did my grandmother tell you about these plans?"

"This morning."

The whole day had been in preparation of her departure, Miriam realized as she recalled her grandmother setting aside Miriam's chores and classes with her tutorial droids that morning. She still had a lot to learn about sensing avoidance and slight manipulations.

* * *

Soon, they boarded the frieghter as a sense of urgency had spurred ahead their departure time. Miriam jogged with her brothers and Tia in tow as their escorting trio stowed their gear and headed to the cockpit along with two others she didn't recognize. Strapping herself in, Miriam felt the rumbling repulsors ignite and soon lift them into the air, spin and rush from the hangar and up into the air. She could sense, to a degree, that they were hugging the terrain for some time, then suddenly the ship lurched into the air as the sublights kicked in and roared to life. Tia instinctively grabbed her hand and held it tightly as the jerking of turbulence eventually smoothed out and they all breathed a sigh of relief.
Shortly afterwards, they felt shuddering and soon heard the hyperdrive erupt as the lights dimmed. They were away.

Page 3

Once they were away, Miriam unbuckled her strap as she then eyed her brothers who both scanned their unfamiliar surroundings. Computer consoles, storage racks, seats, crates stacked and magnacoupled to the floor as well as cabinets all in various shades of grey metal or plastisteel gave the room a drab feeling.

"Why would grandma send us away," Jabin asked as he eyed her. "You were with her all day, did she say anything?"

"No." Miriam shook her head. "Nothing. I'm as shocked as you are. But, we have to make the best of it."

"How long do you think we'll be gone," Izir asked as he wrestled with the buckle.

Miriam had no real answer to that question. She was beginning to think their escape was planned for some time. Soon, Gilan emerged from the gunwell and sat at the diagnostics station.

"How is everyone doing," he queried.

"Fine," Miriam quietly informed, grinning away her concern. "Where are we headed now?"

"Talogi Station. We're to meet some friends of Master Celanon's there and they'll take us on to his school. I've been told that it's well hidden in Wild Space and we should be safe there."

"Running is for cowards," Izir stated angrily, still yanking on the metal lock which Jabin quietly reached over and tapped, loosening the belt and freeing his brother. "Grandfather said so."

Gilan smiled, "I would agree in most cases, my lord. But, right now, their plans for your future don't include fighting."

* * *

After seven cramped days, the freighter emerged from hyperspace within the nearly empty sector of space that had become the crossroads for the Outer Rim and Wild Space. Freighters, container ships and patrol vessels of all shapes and sizes arrived and departed from the space station. It's thick rounded shape was quartered and circled a tall, large spire ending in a ball at one end and control tower on the other. Lighted hangars became beacons to it's visitors as the lone vessel blended with all the others to it's designated landing area. Setting down, the sleek, bullet-shaped ship shared its berthing with four others of various designs.

Inside, Miriam gathered her things as Tia followed her to the boy's room. "Let's go," she directed as they filed out with her and headed to the rampway where Gilan stood with four humans, one in a dark blue, pressed uniform. His short brown hair and dark eyes made her nervous as he studied their identification cards that she didn't even know they possessed.

"Alright. Just you and the kids, then," he asked.

"Yes, sir."

"How long's the ship staying in port?" He asked, handing the small, thin visas back.

"Only an hour. Just long enough to refuel," Gilan informed, replacing the cards into his jacket pocket and Miriam noticed that their lightsaber's were hidden also.

"Just heed the laws here and we'll not have any problems. Have a nice day," the official stated unemotionally, then turned and walked back down the lowered ramp.

Gilan turned to them as Miriam walked up with her small entourage to notice Colman and Arras also with him. "Ready?"

She nodded, then followed him down the ramp into the cooler air echoing with plasma welders, whirring engines from droids as they sped by on various tasks, announcements from the intercom within the distant concourse and laboring motors within the walls and high above. Turning left, she noticed the immense layered hangars opposite them across the empty space occasionally filled with a ship flying by. Staying close to her escort, he then turned and motioned with his cloak.

"Pull your hoods up," he instructed, then did the same, covering his own white hair. Once done, they walked into the large hallway that was full of aliens and humans of all shapes and sizes, smelling of odors that assaulted her nose and immediately made her wish for the tranquil forest back home.

* * *

High above, within the central well, Conor's cold brown eyes scanned the mass of individuals as they crossed below, heading to various destinations as some headed over the various bridges that joined the central spire with the outer shops, restaurants and hotels with the inner banks and security offices. Gloved hands over the railing held the small holoprojector that he had stored the images in of his quarry which he had studied for most of the day. All he needed to do now was find them.
Bounty hunting had become a joy, the adrenaline rush gave him life once his term with the army on Jedda had been completed. Now he could make his own money and enjoy the fruits of his labors.

Suddenly, he noticed a group of individuals hurriedly walking through the crowd below and four of them were about the right height. He quickly moved to the turbolift and hit the button. This was too easy, he thought as it opened to allow several police to exit and allow him inside. Hitting the button for the twenty-third floor, he tapped it again in anticipation. Finally, the door closed and descended.

* * *

Miriam kept close on Gilan's heels as he parted the sea of individuals which she noticed from underneath the hood, some of whom were more horrid than her worst nightmares had ever been. Adrenaline rushed and she then remembered her grandmother's words. 'Calm yourself and the Force will guide and protect you.' Trying to fight her fears, she hoped that their awaiting ship wasn't much farther.
Turning, she noticed that Colman and Arras kept both of her brothers corralled as Izir gazed back and into the face of a horrible, hairy beast which towered over even the acolytes. She swore she saw the animal smiling at him in return.

She grabbed his hand, prompting him to turn around. "Leave it alone."

"Can you imagine his head over the mantle back home," Izir stated enthusiastically.

"We're not here for trophies, keep up."

He shot her a contemptuous glance in return as they finally rounded an open hangar door and saw several freighters parked within. Her heart calmed at the sight and hoped Gilan wasn't lost. As he led her and Tia to the rightmost, she noticed the older human man who stepped down on the rampway. His tall, lean frame ducked underneath the squared escape pod that jutted from the octagonal hallway above. A dark brown jacket hung to mid-thigh and nearly concealed his blaster pistol which she noted was hanging more underneath his armpit.

"Gilan," the pilot asked, olive toned cheeks grinned, then sank as he looked over their shoulders.

"Yes. You're Calldir?"

"I am, get in the ship," he drew his pistol and aimed beyond them. As he fired, Gilan grabbed Miriam's hand and dragged her aboard as Tia ran up behind. Around the computer core, he guided her to the galley and motioned to the rounded couch.

"Strap yourselves in," he commanded, then drew his lightsaber and headed back to the rampway. As shots continued to echo within the hangar below, Miriam frantically buckled her straps as Tia followed suit.

"Erinne, get us out of here!" Calldir yelled as he and Gilan flew back up the ramp. Miriam ducked below the couch as the main entry rolled down and closed while the sudden burst of engines came to life and the whine intensified as they lifted off. Suddenly, Miriam realized that several of their party were missing. Hitting her buckle, she jumped out of the seat as the movement of the ship shifted her to slide and hit the floor.

"My lady," Tia yelled as Miriam felt the bulkhead hit...

* * *

Groggily, she came to as her eyes soon focused on the single, red light on a small panel in the darkness. She lay on a comfortable bed as her headache soon slipped away. "Tia," she called quietly and soon heard movement above. Dropping down to then kneel beside her, she could sense her friend nearby.

"Are you alright, milady." Tia's calm voice asked.

"I'm fine. Where is Jabin and Izir?"

Silence made her nervous with each passing moment and she felt her emotions well. "What happened?"

"Gilan said that Colman and Arras will take care of them but, we had to leave before the authorities showed up. I'm sorry," she sighed.

Miriam felt her tears stream uncontrollably as her hands went to her face and buried it as she rolled to her left and Tia hugged her as she cried.

Page 4

Miriam awoke to the soft rush of air as the recycler kicked on, cooling the stale air in the room. All of the past days events had accumulated to an emotional, confusing mix and she was trying desperately to catch up and make sense of it all. Sighing, she sat up, keeping the thick blanket close to herself, closed her eyes and calmed her spirit as she controlled her breathing. Meditating, she took herself back to the private sanctuary atop the grey mountain, near the small pool full of rain water that her noda used to drink from. As she allowed herself to take in the moment, she could almost feel the cool breeze gently carress her face and smell the abarris blooming nearby. With the moments, she felt all her fears drift away on that wind.

Opening her eyes, she relaxed as her eyes wandered about the small, dark room. Tia's soft breathing in the bunk above also made her realize that her long time friend would hopefully always be there for her and she smiled to herself.
Getting up, she pulled on her boots and thin, tan jacket, flicking her hair from underneath, then walked to the door. Pushing the red button, the door slid to the right and allowed the well lit hallway to greet her as she headed out and around to the refresher. Looking to the frame, she noted the thin, green light denoting occupancy. She would have to wait. As she stood to the side, the quiet vessel's interior made her realize how late it was. Everyone else was probably still asleep, she thought as she pulled out a pocket chronometer that her cousin, Enriya had given her and gazed to the face. 03:47. It was still early back home.

With a quiet rush, the refresher door slid open to reveal an older, human female emerge, drying her long, grey streaked, brown hair as hazel-green eyes smiled. "Good morning," she greeted in Aurebesh.

"Hello," Miriam returned, replacing the chronometer into her pocket.

"Did you get any rest?"

Miriam nodded. "Some. How long will this trip take?"

"Only four days. Yelsain lies in the Minos Cluster in Wild Space. Luckily, we know a shorter route than the main trade route," she smiled.

Politely smiling, Miriam headed into the confined, closet-sized room and reached for the button to close and lock the door.

"I'll be in the galley if you'd like to join me for breakfast."

"Okay," Miriam stated noncomitally, then closed the door. It wasn't traditional to fraternize with aliens but, she realized that to survive in their world, she may have to get used to doing so.

Once her shower was completed, she dried off and got dressed. After combing her hair, she headed out into the galley and heard male voices speaking in the foreign tongue. Rounding the corner, she recognized their captain and Gilan who stood immediately as she entered.

"Good morning, milady," the acolyte greeted.

"Morning," Miriam nodded, then eyed the food laden table and sat on the corner opposite Calldir.

"How'd you sleep," the elder pilot asked, setting his coffee cup back onto the cozy, round table.

"Fine," she lay her napkin into her lap and began eating as Gilan reclaimed his spot beside her. She was glad that her family coudn't see this, her uncle in particular would've had a stroke knowing that one of his family were sitting and dining with a member of - what he referred to as - members of an inferior race. Sarrelonian's had never been good diplomats to the outside galaxy. But, she had to admit that her lighter skinned family were much more tolerant than their darker skinned cousins whose solid red eyes complimented their outlook on everyone else. Including her side of the family.

Once completed, she left her plate and headed back towards the room as Gilan followed. "My lady," he called quietly as she turned. "I want to ask your forgiveness," he knelt before her. "It was my fault that they were left behind," he stated as his eyes fell. The words reopened the wound that Miriam was trying to allow time to heal.

"This was my fault," she stated as her chin began to quiver.

"You and your brothers were my responsibility. But, I vow, that yourself will be in my care no matter the cost. I will see you to Yelsain and back home again. I swear it."

Miriam nodded, averting her eyes as they glossed. She turned and headed back into the room as Tia turned, completing her chores within. Her sympathetic eyes smiled with a glimmer of hope and Miriam grinned back, swallowing her tears. "Hello, Tia. We only have another day before we arrive."

Tia nodded, her long straight hair falling neatly to either side over her grey, thick jacket and light grey pants. Servants all wore the same type of clothing for easier recognition in a crowd back home, a tradition that her family had proudly followed in their service to Miriam's own family. "Very well, milady. Should I get your meal?"

"I'm fine, thanks, but you can go ahead and eat."

Tia bowed and exited, leaving Miriam alone to finally see what her grandmother had given her in the box she had kept securely hidden within her own backpack. Moving her clothing aside, she found the box neatly tucked to the side and pulled it out. Rising, she sat on her bed and searched for the opening mechanism. Finally, she noticed a small lever embedded within the seam which she pushed and then lifted the top with her fingernails. Light soon shimmered along the length of chrome metal and she immediately recognized her grandmother's lightsaber. Blue eyes went wide as she realized that Sianna would be trying to help defend their home without it. Quickly closing the box, she held it to herself in disbelief.

Page 5

On the outer edge of the Minos Cluster, Yelsain had become the home of many 'free thinkers' whose technology was quite advanced. The green world's hemispheres were split by a wide ocean which circumnavigated the world at the equator, cutting a jagged line around long beaches and immense tracts of forest and mountains. As the Voluspa cut through the thick cumulus, grey with rain, it finally reached the high-walled city of Tradetown, busy with radio traffic beckoning the arrivals home to the starport that commanded the south-central part of the city.

As Miriam and Tia packed, a knock on the door prompted them both to turn and eye it. "We're setting down, my lady," Gilan announced. "You should get strapped in."

"Alright," Miriam returned, grabbing her backpack as Tia followed suit and they exited and headed to the galley where they claimed their seats. "It'll be nice to breathe something else but recycled air for once."

Tia smiled. "Yes, ma'am. I don't know how they survive in conditions like this."

"They've become accustomed to it, I guess."

Gilan quickly joined them in the galley and buckled himself in as the sublights turned over their duties to the ion engines, running a bit louder than their predecessors as the intertial compensators tried to keep the passengers from feeling every bump in the atmosphere. Soon, they set down and the trio unstrapped themselves again and shouldered their gear while Miriam followed Gilan to the rampway.

"Gilan," Erinne called from the cockpit. "Go ahead and open it up, if you would."

"Alright," he replied, then tapped a button within the small inset panel to open the main door and lower the ramp in one swift motion, allowing in air which nearly made Miriam sick initially. Turning their noses, she covered hers up, then slowly allowed herself to adjust as she realized that the stink wafting in was actually fresh air. Smiling, she had nearly become accustomed to the same atmosphere that she and Tia had just been complaining about.

"Nearly there," Gilan motioned to the rampway as Calldir and his wife joined them and they descended into bright sunlight that cascaded down into a nearly empty landing area. Several bordering hangars stood open revealing parked vessels of various designs and she was wondering where everyone was as they stepped out onto the permacrete tarmac. Rectangular lights, buried at an angle pointed up to the bottom of the frieghter and encircled the vessel on the round pad denoted by the painted lines in yellow. Everything looked brand new.

"Does anyone use this starport," Miriam asked as they walked towards the three-story hub.

Calldir laughed. "Yes. Locals take pride in everything they build and keep everything clean. You'll even see some of their opinions of technology soon. Any speeder owned by locals have their metal siding stripped off and replaced by wood, which actually looks better in most cases."

"Why would they do that," Gilan asked.

"They believe that the old ways are best and technology has only brought the galaxy into slavery. Funny when you think of the present government," he smirked, referring to the Empire.

Miriam watched as they gained clearance through inspection, then headed to a parking garage and claimed a speeder. "Here she is, right where we left her," Calldir smiled as Gilan opened the door for Miriam. As she climbed into the wood-sided speeder, she noted the clean and well kept interior and admired the couple for their attention to detail.

Once aboard, the speeder rose into the air as the driver guided it through the parking garage and soon out into daylight where he turned southeast and gunned the vehicle over the high walls. As they passed over a wide, open grassland, the immense trees which stood nearly as tall as most spires back home, she was amazed at some of the smaller villages built within and on the enormous branches as they passed by. Rope bridges and wooden walkways joined homes gripped to the side of the trunks which rose to nearly four hundred feet. Their thick, green boughs shaded all underneath and Miriam rose to gaze downward and noticed the trees origins lost in the darkness far below.

"Why do they build their homes way up here," Miriam asked.

"To keep from the dangerous wildlife at the forest floor. No one goes down there but the hardiest of hunters," Calldir informed as the speeder dodged branches and ducked the heavy foliage around them. "You're much safer up here, milady."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Soon, after hours of travel, they finally slowed and Miriam peered over the front seat to notice the large wooden building ahead. To the side, a large platform held two other speeders within the railed landing area which is where Calldir set down.

"Here we are," he announced. Through the windshield, she noticed a single entrance through a long tunnel and out into what appeared to be a courtyard centered by the rest of the large tree the compound was built on.

Opening the door, Gilan stepped out and held it open as Miriam and Tia walked around him and noticed a robed human male step through the tunnel and emerge. His grey hair, trimmed neatly framed a kind, oblong face centered by blue eyes. Brown robes flowed over a tan tunic and pants and ended with tall brown boots.

"Welcome, Lady Miriam," he bowed. "Master Celanon has been expecting you. I'm Valis, another instructor here. Come," he motioned. "I'll see you to your quarters and then take you to him. He can answer all of your questions for I see many in your eyes."

Miriam nodded apprehensively, then followed him into the compound which appeared more like a wide courtyard that centered the circular, cloistered home of many other races, most eyeing her as they walked by. Heading to the right, Valis stopped at a door, then opened it and stepped aside. "I'll wait here for you," he informed as Gilan followed her in. Within, the modest living area was flanked to the right and left by bedrooms and on the far side by a curtained window which opened to the forest beyond. Around the near wall, a small kitchenette sported a small refrigeration unit and cabinets.
Tia quickly took Miriam's backpack to the left room as Gilan claimed the right. She stood at the head of the living area, noting the couch and chairs flanking a low table which rested on a colorful carpet of deep gold flanked by green border in the form of intertwined vines. This would be home, but for how long? She sighed, then turned to see their host patiently waiting outside. Stepping out through the front door, she pulled it closed.

"I'm ready now," she announced.

He motioned. "This way." She followed him to the right and around underneath the wide roof that would protect them from the rain that seemed to have been building all day long in the dark clouds that she could barely see high above. He stopped and knocked.

In her mind, she heard a calm, male voice. "Come in."

Startled, she moved to the door and opened it. Stepping into the darkened room, she closed out the dim daylight and walked beyond shelves and cabinets to see faint lines and corners of three round objects on the floor in the center of the room. Her senses told her that someone sat on the leftmost as his head moved towards her.

"Have a seat, Miriam," he motioned to what she could now make out as a large, round pillow that rested atop a low meditative perch which she sat on. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. As you no doubt have guessed, I'm Celanon. I knew your ancestor, the Countess many years ago when I served Master Iria Linden on Omicron Ceti. Which is also when I lost my physical sight," he stated as she soon noticed the deep creases around his forehead and eyes. "We have been given a gift by the universe and it's our duty to use that gift to secure freedom to the galaxy one day. That's why I'm here and I hope that's also why she's sent you to me. I know you have much weighing on you at the moment but, I also see a strength within you that will help you endure these hard times. You'll come to find that we all share some things in common. My students come from many walks of life and from many worlds, get to know them and learn from them. Allow them to learn from you. I hope that when your time here comes to a close that you'll be a strong instrument that the Force can use to free your people and homeworld. I will do all in my power to help you realize that goal."

"Thank you." She grinned as the familiar comfort that she had with her grandmother permeated these walls and the air between them. They would become great friends in the years to come.

Page 6

Eleven years had soon passed and Miriam had buried herself so into her studies that the time flew by as she became more open to the various races that she learned beside. Twi'leks, Bothan, Human, as well as many others had become her friends as Gilan also furthered his education that had started at Kangavar when he was only twelve years old.
Now taller, her lithe frame had been honed with years of physical training as well as in the Force. Never once taking out her grandmother's lightsaber, she learned to use her mind as her best weapon, although not neglecting her martial skills which were normal for Sarrelonians.

Standing within the large wooden tub, Tia bathed her charge as Miriam relaxed within the warm flow that coursed over her mature, healthy curves, closing her eyes.

"Is my lady alright. You've been quiet this morning," Tia inquired, rubbing the sponge down Miriam's back.

"I'm fine. I had another vision last night that someone is coming to retrieve us soon," her mature voice recounted. "I don't know who they are but, they should be here within a day or two."

"We'll be going home then?" Tia stopped and eyed her charge.

"It would seem so," Miriam nodded.

"You're not excited? We've been here some time now without any word of Antares." She resumed her duties as Miriam opened her vibrant, blue eyes which completely filled the lids and reflected the thick curtain, gently waving with the afternoon breeze.

"It's not that. One of them will be my husband. I've also seen two children, redheaded twins," she stated quietly, uncertain of the portents around this man she would give herself to.

"That's wonderful, my lady," Tia beamed excitedly.

Miriam grinned, not as enthusiastic but, content that she would have offspring to continue her line. Her name would be assured and they would both be beautiful to her heart.

Once dried, Tia combed her long hair, silky white and thick, just like her grandmother's had been as Miriam sat on the backless stool and watched in the mirror. Smooth, her features had suddenly caught up to the fourteen-year-old that had come here so long ago, escaping capture by the Bolari who had killed her family. She had felt it soon after arriving here, she reminisced as her eyes lowered to her full breasts, covered by the white towel that she held close to herself. Tanned, strong shoulders peeked out from above and graced her long neck. She had become a woman; grinning at the thought.

Tia glanced upward. "What's on my lady's mind?"

Miriam looked up and to the left to see her friend and confidant. "I was just thinking and remembering that little girl who came here, so long ago. Full of fear and prejudices, now look at me. I eat beside aliens who I've come to claim as my friends without regret." Her eyes gravitated back to her own face. "I wonder if that is what she had in mind all along. Master Celanon was her friend. A human. Did she also do these things when she was my age? I'm beginning to believe so. Odd, when you think about how...my ancestor," she remembered their customs about speaking of those who had gone on as the flash of her grandfather's face entered her memory. "Thought of those outside of our race. He never really over-emphasized not relating to them. I think that to retake our homeworld, we're going to have to fight alongside humans and others to accomplish that goal. There are many who won't like that notion."

"Unless there's anyone of higher rank leading that charge, it's your leadership that will decide that," Tia reminded confidently.

"No, it won't be me. My ancestor told me on our ride back that I would serve my cousin who will claim the throne. Perish the thought that none of their house survived."

"Forgive me, milady. I meant no offense."

Miriam nodded. "It's okay. You're right to doubt. I have too, privately, on occasion."

Once dressed, she stepped out into the living room which had taken on many changes over the years, one being more lively color in potted flowers and ornamental flares carved by Gilan in his free time. He rose as she emerged from her room, tome in hand and turned as perfect white teeth smiled. "You need not honor me, we're in our own home, Gilan."

"Milady is still my better, irregardless where we reside."

She acquiesced, grinning as Tia moved to open the window and allow a cooler breeze into the room as Miriam headed around to the chair and sat down, allowing Gilan to reclaim his own spot on the couch.

"I couldn't help but overhear your conversation earlier," Gilan began. "We're to be returning to Antares soon?"

Miriam hesitated, wondering how much of their private talk was now public. "It would seem so."

He nodded. "I look forward to returning. It's been too long in hiding, although I know the purpose has been well served. We've both come a long way in our studies."

"True. We'll first need to make contact with anyone of the resistance and with the surviving members of the court to finalize the liberation. Hopefully, these men who are coming can shed some light on that for us."

He nodded an agreement as Tia moved to clean the room. Once she had left the room, Gilan leaned forward, resting his book on his thighs. "I must ask, why have you decided not to build your own lightsaber and prove your skills?"

Miriam's eyes averted to her long fingers as she played with an errant string that had come loose. "I believe the true nature of the Force is in the mind and the will. I can use those to diplomatically solve problems instead of reverting to martial skill. Not that I fault anyone for doing so," she raised her hand to him. "It's just that, I think more diplomatic results can be more useful in the long run."

Gilan smiled. "My lady has truly become her ancestor's progeny."

Page 1

Whining quietly, the air circulator pushed out a less than perfect product, which meant not as dusty as the outside, into the cluttered room. A round edged, metal door kept out unwanted guests from her rented hovel and faced the large, flat bed on the opposite wall whose headboard rose to the twelve foot ceiling in a tall, dark grey block whose borders hugged the sides of the bed itself. Three narrow, tall windows rose from the floor and flanked small square tables to either side of Gratia's pillows. She had been listening to the rattling for nearly five years now as her lack of engineering skill disallowed repair.

"Get up, time to train," she could almost hear him say and glanced to the small chronometer to the right whose red numbers dully glowed in the darkness. '05:17'

Sighing, she pushed herself up and sat for a long moment, staring into the dimly lit room towards the left where the round table sat quietly and fronted an inset kitchenette complete with autochef supported by a small refrigeration unit. To the right, a small workstation in whose seat rested her droid - the only companion she trusted. "H.K., get up," she called.

In an instant, narrow red lights illuminated as the human-like droid straightened and turned to glance at it's master. "Good morning, madam," his deep, gravely voice greeted as he stood. "Will there be any required retirement of biologics today?"

She grinned darkly, "We'll see. Just sit tight and turn on the holo for me while I get cleaned up." As his metal feet tapped across the permacrete tiles, she pushed herself out from underneath the comfortable blanket and swung her legs out. Suraf had become her home, irregardless of her distaste for the constant heat and humidity, and now that she had ingrained herself within the underworld, a place of refuge. Rising, she motioned with her hand which prompted the blanket to pull up towards the near corner as she opened the door to the refresher and stepped inside. Springing to life, the small light over the mirror highlighted her soft skin, dark hair and blue eyes as she closed the door and pushed the square tab on the left wall. Suddenly, a shower of hot water cascaded over her lithe frame which woke her to it's embrace.

Once done, she dressed in soft, dark leathers and pulled her raven hair into a ponytail which she tied with a black, furry coil as she walked to the dining table whose center sported a hologram of the local news anchor.

"...and last night found the bodies of three members of the Hellion's swoop gang in the alleyway. Their long time quarrel with the Blackwings has been an ongoing feud between the rival clans for nearly thirty-four years and which has no end in sight. In other news.."

Gratia ignored the rest as she sat down in the faded, black padded chair whose metal frame and single support had seen better days. "You monitoring the police band," she inquired as she began eating.

"Yes, madam. No information yet as to suspects outside of the rival clan," the maroon colored droid stated as he walked to the weapons locker whose sandstone walls matched the rest of the room's interior.

There was no doubt that the local constabulary would always point their fingers at the enemy of those fallen in Kulunda and she would never give them a reason to think otherwise. As she watched the nearly translucent broadcast, blue eyes widened at the sight of two men in blue uniforms walking across the background of the scene as the reporter spoke to two racers for the upcoming meet. The duo's short haircuts, clean shaven look and serious eyes told her that trouble may have found her finally. "H.K., try the secure lines for any transmissions to space also." These guys hopefully were that sloppy, but she doubted it. It was worth a try.

"Switching," he informed.

She finished breakfast and turned, placing the dish into the autochef's receiving door, then mentally tapped the 'off' button for the holoprojector as she moved towards the door. With each step, she debated even going to Ostasz to collect her money. Perhaps they should just leave town.

"Madam, are you well," her personal guardian queried.

"I'm fine," she glanced to him and immediately noticed the newly installed autocannon hidden beneath his right forearm which both appeared thicker than on a normal Hunter-Killer unit. "There are two agents in town, keep your receptors open."

He eyed her quietly for a long moment. "Madam, unless I've been turned off..."

"You know what I mean." She turned towards the door and reached towards the inset panel and tapped a small, red button. Grinding to their right, the heavy door opened and allowed more stale, recirculated air into her nostrils and she stepped out into the main concourse. Turning left, she mentally touched the circuitry for the locking mechanism once the door closed - a feature she added herself some time after moving in. Her affinity for electronic security devices had been one selling factor to her master many years ago as well as the driving force to her first few missions under his employ.
Through the rounded hallway they passed several families and kids off to school and followed them to the main lobby door which opened to the day. Golden sunlight poured from the east onto the permacrete thoroughfare bordered in deep orange from the many dust storms they had to endure as well as the few violent thunderstorms which caked the soil into the cracks and crevasses during their short winter and spring. Life on Suraf was such a joyous occasion she thought as they walked passed the awaiting shuttle, while children embarked on another day, crossed the street and headed northward along the storefronts. Narrow alleys and side streets divided large, round topped buildings which most were three stories, and home to the twelve thousand tightly packed occupants whose mundane lives were beneath the notice of the assassin living in their midst.

Soon, the front of the large cantina came into view as she noticed the fancy speeders parked near the entrance belonging to the ten guards spaced along the patio and within sight of the door and rear loading dock.

"Still nothing," she asked and glanced towards the pair moving to intercept her on the walkway.

"No, madam. Mostly reports to the local ranger's office about a plan to raid the Hellion's hideout on the western side of town."

"Good." She slowed as a beefy arm raised. "What," she glared at the guard in her path.

"Business is closed until nine, come back then."

Blue eyes narrowed. "Tell him I'm here to collect."

The human guard touched the small com device in his ear, then nodded. "Alright, but he stays outside," brown eyes motioned to the droid.

Gratia glanced to her companion. "I'll only be a moment."

"Yes, madam."

* * *

Through the darkened club, she walked towards the private room where her employer lounged on a large couch, only custom made furniture suited to the hutt, as she mentally counted all the sentients in the building. Five resided in the kitchen, four in the main office and Ostasz in the room with his usual entourage of seven. She pushed the door open and walked into the music filled chamber. Eyes watched her as the sparse lighting danced along her curves and shone off of her loose clothing and long hair. In the room's center, she noticed the pair of Twi'Lek girls who entertained as she veered left to the large slug's couch.

"You're early," his deep voice commented. "Although, I'm glad that things went as they did. You've done an exemplary job for me these past years."

"Cut to the chase, Ostasz. We've tried and it just didn't work out, I'm sorry," she cut in sarcastically. "Or, are you trying to tell me that there's a bonus in it for me if I do something else?"

Large, red eyes stared for a moment, then the hutt chuckled loudly, stubby fat arms to his immense chest. "No, I have your money." He motioned and a beautifully polished, silver protocol droid stiffly moved towards her, coinpurse in his hand which he extended and she received. "There is however, an opportunity for you to gain my deepest gratitude and perhaps double the normal reward...."

Page 1 - Assigned

Walking through the main hallway, Broc Golvan, Special Enforcement Officer for the Sector Rangers headed to another meeting with the Deputy Director. He hoped it wasn't to deny another promotion, although his anniversary date wasn't for another four months. His tanned, bald head reflected the light from above, grey goattee and crow's feet denoted his experience with the agency. Piercing, brown eyes grabbed a secretary's attention as she grinned, then he remembered the two large gold earrings in his right ear. His eyes diverted as he neared the Deputy Director's door, he could pursue other endeavors later. Hating to be unarmed, his dual shoulder holsters were empty underneath the tan, thick jacket made of Li'Kan hide which he had bought during a leave on Nara years ago. The thick white shirt and dark brown pants were remnants from his failed marriage and the short black boots had become a favorite after graduating the academy which he and some of his classmates had spent their first paychecks on.

Knock.

"Come on in, Golvan," the director's voice called from within. His brown eyes scanned the corners of the frame for cameras, but found none as he touched the blue button within an inset panel to the left of the door which slid right and opened to reveal the plush office. Walking in, he was greeted by the banner that commanded the wall behind his long, polished grey desk. Other memorabilia from the director's own career as a well known SEO covered shelves along the right and left walls as well as a hologram of himself and the current Sector Ranger's Director, Alair Kimball, during some junket that stood in the right corner.

"Have a seat," the older veteran of the Al' Narl Sector motioned.

"Thanks,sir," Broc quietly sat within the black leather chair as light spilled through two long windows that flanked the banner: deep blue field covered by white, five-pointed stars. Below, the words, "What Others Abandon, We Protect", were emblazoned in Aurebesh. "What can I do for you?"

"We've got a special project that's very delicate. I need one of my best to handle it," his steel blue eyes rose from the flat computer on his desk as he sat back. His lean, clean shaven face was topped with close cropped, grey hair and also told of years in the field. "By delicate of course, I mean political."

"Of course. Who's the subject of the excercise?"

"Governor Tan Belaor." He silently watched as Broc's eyes widened a bit more. "His brother is Moff Belaor of the Aparo Sector that's notified our office that he believes that the governor's life may be in danger. I want you to investigate this and find out who may be threatening him. I know this sort of thing usually gets messy, but you're used to it."

"I live in dirt. Wouldn't know any other way," he grinned.

Chuckling, Director Conall leaned forward again, eyeing his computer and pushed a button. "I know you've been looking forward to some leave time but, this is a priority. I'll see that you're compensated."

"Sir," Broc accentuated as he leaned forward, leather quietly mouthing it's protest. "I signed on to protect the galaxy against thugs and outlaws. This is what I was trained for."

Nodding, the deputy director extracted a small disc from the side of the computer and handed it to the SEO. "This is the governor's itinerary for the week. Everything we know about his affiliations is there also. Good luck."

"Don't worry, sir. I'll take care of it." Broc rose and nodded respectfully, then turned and headed to the door as he placed the thin round disc within his right jacket pocket.

"Golvan," the director called as Broc spun. "If this gets to looking like a terrorist strike, you let the ISB handle it. I don't want you buried in a mountain of bureaucratic red tape."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Tall and lean, the well dressed, dark haired man walked through the lobby of the theatre towards the front door. Both clear transparisteel, one slid aside as he walked out into the night, allowing the thrum of speeders that passed by in both directions. Pulling his coat closer to protect him from the chill, he handed the approaching droid his chit.

"Right away, sir," the droid dutifully replied, then spun in midair and glided off to retrieve the speeder. Dark blue eyes scanned the facing high rise buildings, lit at their bases by glowing lamps which cast quick lines onto the rooves and hoods of each vehicle that sped passed. Another couple spoke quietly as they approached from the entrance, arm-in-arm as the black, sleek speeder pulled up to the edge of the sidewalk and the man walked around to the driver's side as the droid exited, placing several cred chips into it's hand.

"Thank you sir, and good night."

* * *

Broc sat within the security room behind two droids which monitored the holograms including all exits and entrances as the play within the large auditorium continued it's final act. Brown eyes glanced from monitor to monitor, looking for anything suspicious or out of place.

"Focus the camera on the Governor and his wife," he instructed.

"Yes, sir." Touching a button, the field of view narrowed and Broc smiled as he noticed the governor sleeping again, head leaning on his hand which propped it on the armrest. He had apparently given in to entertaining his wife who had wished to see the play that night. Annoying how some women could be, especially the social elite who had to be seen in public at the most prestigious events. He scanned to the other cameras, waiting for the unknown to step out or be creeping along in places they didn't belong, but found none. Glancing again to the governor, he watched as his wife leaned over and tapped him on the arm, then moved over to try and be inconspicuous. Then he noted her horror as she sat back, hands to her mouth.

Within moments, he was headed for the door. "Lock this place down, no one gets in or out!"

"Yes, sir."

"Have the police and medical examiner get here right away and call me when they've found something."

"Right away."

He raced down the stairs and towards the front door as several couples gathered their coats or walked out into the night. "Ladies and gentlemen, please head back into the lobby."

"What's the meaning of this," one elderly man challenged.

Broc flashed his Sector Ranger badge. "I said get back inside. Now!"

Frightened, the guests all quickly retreated from him and returned to the lobby as the attendant droid approached.

"Sir, I've been notified of the alert. Your speeder is ready," it motioned to another sleek speeder, motor running.

"Thanks," Broc sprinted around and jumped in, then hit the accelerator. He knew that once the governor was dead, his business partner would be either leaving the planet, or on his way to the starport. As the vehicle sped through traffic, he tapped the internal com display that lit the interior from the sloped dashboard.

"Starport Security, Sergeant Berven."

"Suspend all traffic leaving the port, right now."

"What's your authorization?"

"I'm Special Enforcement Officer, Broc Golvan. The governor has just been assassinated and I believe the perpetrator may be trying to escape as we speak."

"I'll have to confer with the Port Authority on this."

"Just lock down the starport, dammit. If I'm wrong, then you can speak to Deputy Director Conall at Ranger HQ."

"Alright. Who are we looking for?"

"I'm transmitting his likeness now," he replied, yanking the steering handles to the left as he avoided stopped vehicles at an intersection which he flew over, avoiding the taller container of a speeder truck. Horns honked as he flew by and continued roaring through the city and eventually reached the quieter suburbs whose street lights illuminated trees and two-story homes which passed him in a long blur of light and dark. As he approached the main highway that headed east to the starport, he looked right and noticed the dark plume of smoke that rose from a odd lump in one lane. He avoided traffic who all slowed to look at the burning speeder and he overshot the lane to land near the guard rail. Stopping the speeder, his right thumb pushed a red button on the handle, putting the vehicle in park. Pushing the door open, he jogged out and around the front of the speeder to smell the burning metal, plastisteel and grass nearby. Raising his jacket to protect himself from the heat, he walked around to the front of the wreckage as speeders slowly passed by in the second lane, and noticed the identification plate laying on the pavement near his feet.

'PBR 117'

Someone else had gotten to the governor's friend first, he thought as his comlink beeped. Unlatching it as he turned and walked from the scene, he raised he small, cylindrical device to his mouth. "Golvan."

"Lieutenant Evin, sir. Preliminary analysis of the body found nothing, toxicology was also negative. We're finishing up our questioning now of the guests and staff, I'm compiling a list of everyone present and anything that sparked our interest for you. Five guests do have criminal records. We're taking the body to the hospital now for an autopsy."

Golvan nodded. "Anything that comes up that is unique to the subject as well as his wife, I want to know about it. Aftershave, her perfume, what they ate and drank, everything."

"Got it."

He clicked the comlink off and dropped his arm heavily as his eyes looked up into the starlit sky and he wondered if the Moff had pre-empted his retribution for an event that he suspected was going to happen. If so, Broc's field of possibilities had just exploded.

Page 2 - Misdirections

Raising the comlink again, Broc dialed the thin, silver piece to the right until reaching '178.2', then waited for an answer.

"Captain Melan."

"Captain, this is SEO Golvan, I need a team with a full kit at the accident on B-7."

"Already on their way, they should be there in about three minutes."

"Thanks." Broc clicked the comlink off and turned back to the wreckage, still smoking as the fires had become more centralized near the interior compartment. Onlookers gawked as they passed and he ignored them as he noticed the deep, muffled thrum of a speeder truck approach across the grassy median and then turn to park behind him. Doors opened and he noted the dark blue uniformed men disembark with large, dark grey cases in hand as they walked up. Out of habit, he raised his badge to them as an older, short man smiled.

"Another lovely evening, wouldn't you say?" His green eyes smiled as he looked over Broc's shoulder to the wreckage. "Anyone you know?"

Broc nodded as he turned back to the burning frame. "Geril Bearan, thiry-two, owner of Bearan shipping and friend of the governor. Father of two, he loved shock boxing, parasailing, Armudu spice in his cigarras, and enjoying evenings at the Herisau with his partners and brother-in-law while sipping Bespin Port."

"Interesting," the officer stated. "So who didn't like him?"

Broc quietly wondered how much more to reveal before having more facts. "That's what I need you for." He turned back to the investigator. "I'm on my way to the morgue, as soon as you find out what caused the explosion, call me."

"You got it."

Broc headed back to his speeder and climbed in as two droids extinguished the fire. As his speeder rose into the darkness, white foam slowly dissipated and evaporated as he turned and headed back to the city's center. HItting the com on the dashboard again, he waited for the answer from the starport.

"Sergeant Breven."

"Have you identified our man yet?"

"No, sir. His ship was scheduled to leave at twenty-fifteen but, they never arrived. The crew is aboard though and had nearly finished their preflight."

"Alright. Continue the lockdown. Our man may have been killed on his way there, but I still need to verify that."

"Yes, sir." the comlink went dead and he hit the rightmost, green button that lined below the frequency display, turning it off. He sighed as his speeder coursed through traffic and finally made its way to the large hospital's parking garage.

* * *

Opening the door to his hotel room, the dark haired man stepped in quietly. Ears attuned to the quiet listened for anything out of the ordinary as the door quietly slid shut, pushing out the light from the hallway as he crept passed the entrance to the refresher and into the larger room. To the right, a long dresser and desk fronted a tall mirror and was bordered on the far side by the holoprojector which he leaned over and tapped a button. Contoured to the base of the device, it's four corner rods illuminated and suddenly supported a female news reporter.

"...was found in his seat during the play. Medical examiners declared the governor dead at the scene as police officers guided away his greaving wife who had tried to wake him during the performance. The governor is survived by two sons who are attending the Naval Academy on Carida and promise to follow in their uncle's footsteps. In other news..."

He ignored the rest, retreating to the refresher. Closing the door, he tapped the square, wide button to his left, pushing it in. Beaming to life, the rectangular light over the small mirror cast a long shadow behind him as blue eyes gazed at the face reflected back at him. He knew that police would want to question all of the guests that attended the play, so he had to disappear quickly. Two long, strong hands rose to his cheeks and pulled. Elongating into grotesque streaks, his face tore off, pulling eyebrows and thin moustache with it, revealing the tanned woman beneath. Hitting the faucet's long handle, water gushed into the sink that she dropped the disguise into and watched as its fleshy texture was consumed by the water and faded as it disappeared into the drain. Reaching up, she extracted the contacts revealing deep brown eyes which she placed on the shallow shelf that ran beneath the mirror. Now that this man who no one knew before tonight was gone, someone else had to take his place.

* * *

Broc walked into the mortuary as the medical droids examined the body of the late governor. Being a part of his job, the smell of death didn't bother him like it had when he first went through the investigative course at the academy, losing his lunch more than once.

"What've you got so far," he asked as the droid's receptors rose from a human-like face. Glowing yellow, they held no intelligence in themselves.

"I've deduced that the subject was a victim of heart failure. His blood has small traces of meladifaril which is used to treat high cholesterol. I've also found four of his arteries blocked which should've announced themselves long before now."

Broc's brow furrowed. "He showed no signs of a heart attack. There has to be something else. His wife said all he did was fall asleep." He studied the large computer displays and notes in light blue alongside the picture of the governor's chest cavity and his organs which commanded the left wall above the head of the examining table. "Did you run a more thorough toxicology study?"

"Yes, sir. I've been able to find nothing out of the ordinary which would've determined his cause of death, yet."

Sighing, he placed his hands on his hips. There had to be a valid explanation right in front of them, why couldn't he see it? He turned his attention back to the droid's arm as it guided the biosensor over the body. Pulsing and softly beeping, the hand held computer's display cast bluish and green highlights onto the thin metal arm.

"Interesting," the droid's vocabulator finally broke the long silence.

"What?"

"There's a thin coating of esorphin-B and telac on the backs of both thighs and bottom of the feet."

Broc's mind raced as he tried to determine the sources of those ingredients. He knew that he had seen them before in a similar report some months back. A case on Radnor came to mind along with a flood of investigative notes and mental images of the crime scene. "It's found in a flower within the nurseries of the Meridian Sector." Grinning, he turned and sprinted from the lab and out into the main hallway as he made his way back to the turbolift. Keying his comlink to a familiar frequency, he rose the communicator to his mouth.

"This had better be good," the reply.

"Sir, this is Golvan. It wasn't the Moff, we've got an assassin in town."

"Oh. What a relief," the deputy director's sarcasm spilled over the airwaves. "I hope you know who they are then."

"I have a name, I just need some time to catch him."

"I'll notify the Moff's office that everything is in control then. Don't disappoint me."

Broc smiled as he stepped into the round lift and touched the button for the lobby as the door closed.

* * *

Within the starport's main lobby, Broc headed towards the security office hoping that the lockdown would be ended within a few moments. Port Authority was screaming to the director of Sector Rangers but, were being held at bay while the investigation was nearly at an end. His brown eyes quickly glanced to their wall of screens and he saw the ship sitting within the quiet hangar, right where his informant said it would be.

Raising the comlink as he sprinted back for the service hallway, he tapped the top button twice, then returned it back into his pocket. Pushing through a series of doors that the security droid was remotely unlocking for him. he reached the final one and pulled out both pistols as he sighed heavily. Nodding to the camera up and to the right, the quiet metallic pop announced a 'go'. He ran through and into the large, darkened hangar towards the parked freighter. As he sprinted for the lowered gangway, hangar doors exploded inward. Smoke rose into the air as the Enforcement team rushed in, rifles up as the armored backup sprinted behind him and into the ship. Once inside, they broke up into three groups and quickly searched each room, common area and cockpit until reaching the captain's quarters which Broc awaited the security expert's acknowledgement. He nodded, and the team stormed in to find their quarry jump out of bed with his female companion screaming as lights popped on.

"What the hell..." Eman yelled as he reached for a holstered pistol hanging on the post near his head, then stopped.

"Don't," Broc warned. "Unless you want to paint these nice walls and your girlfriend. Eman Weylen, you're under arrest for the murder of Governor Belaor of Balmorra. Turn around and place your hands on your head." Adrenaline pumped and he wished that the well known assassin and bounty hunter would resist.

Turning, the tall, strongly built man followed the Ranger's instructions. "You've got nothing on me. You're wasting your time."

Broc placed the magnacuffs as his eyes glanced over to the brilliant blue flowers growing in a long box along the top of the dresser. "Really. Well, I'm just glad that you had the evidence right here in your room because I would've hated to tear this ship apart looking for it."

Page 3 - Illusions

Broc watched the guards walk Eman down the long hallway to his new quarters within their jail. Something was biting at him as his face remained blank. Footsteps on the tiled floor approached and stopped beside him as brown eyes turned to see the deputy director.

"Great job, Golvan. I knew I had put the right agent on the case," he smiled.

Broc half-grinned as he nodded.

"Come on, I'm buying breakfast."

Raising his chronometer, he noticed the time: 05:27. It had been a long day. "I can't believe it's that late already."

"Time flies when you're chasing a criminal. Come on," Conall turned and began walking towards the main lobby as Broc soon followed. His mind raced over the evidence as something just didn't add up. They walked out onto the long, columned veranda and began down the immense staircase, white permacrete steps cleaned by the maintenance droid who now slowly moved the built-in brushes along the sidewalk.

"Why so quiet," the director asked as he led towards the awaiting speeder, dark blue coupe with contoured engines that barely rose above the rear corners.

"If you were a veteran bounty hunter that was being paid to take down a government official, wouldn't you be hiding out or on your way to the Outer Rim once the job was done? Why sit in the same city and risk being caught?"

"Maybe his contractor rigged the deal that way. There are any number of possibilities. You were just smarter and more aggressive. Get in, I'm starving."

Broc shook his head, pulled the handle on the door and climbed into the sporty new model.

* * *

"Ma'am, can I lead you to your ship," the attendant asked, leaning over to the elderly woman sitting in the hoverchair, cane in hand.

"That would be kind of you, young man," she smiled and sat quietly as he walked around to the rear of the gliding, metal chair and pushed her out onto the enormous tarmac. Sunlight pierced a thin fog that hung over a multitude of freighters and yachts, some of whose engines revved as they lifted off or were powering down from entry. Droids and skiffs raced along the avenues between the long line of cordoned landing pads which centered the starport lined on the distant edges by long banks of hangars. Crewmen walked to and fro, unhooked power lines, checked landing gear or spoke with potential customers as she peered to the distant hangar door, blown open some time this morning by the Sector Rangers during their raid. Her pale, wrinkled face topped by fashioned white hair was graced by a thin pair of gold glasses and accented her dark blue, velvet jacket and medium blue dress which covered her overweight body.

"Lucky that they lifted the lockdown, you might've had to stay another night," the young man stated over the whine of engines and passing skiffs loaded down with cargo.

She half turned and looked up to him, sidelong. "You'll have to speak up son, I'm not as young as I used to be."

He leaned down. "I said, you're lucky that you were able to leave this morning."

"Yes," she nodded. "Lucky indeed."

* * *

A quiet thrum from the air recirculator awoke Broc to the billeting room that he was given for his visit here at the base. Rangers who lived in the field never bothered buying a home, all they needed was within their ship and on them. He enjoyed the thrill of hunting outlaws and those who had escaped justice. His brown eyes watched the tiny blue, pulsing light that counted off the seconds on the face of the digital chronometer that stood on the nightstand beside the bed. Each moment went by and he wondered if he had slept too long. He rolled onto his back and stared at the dim grey ceiling.
The governor and Geril Bearan were business partners, he knew that much. What would they be involved in that would get them killed? And who would be the third party? His left hand rose and wiped his forehead as he rehearsed the series of events in his mind. Geril wasn't involved at all, but knew that when the governor was killed, he would be next.

"Oh, you stupid..." he threw the covers off and jumped out of bed. Pulling on his pants and boots, he rose as he grabbed his shirt and jacket as well as his gunbelt, then put them on as he ran out the door.

Racing back to the starport, he dialed in the frequency for the security desk at Ranger Headquarters.

"Deputy Eginer."

"Yeah, deputy, who's the scene commander at the starport, hangar F-17?"

"Investigator Kervin, sir."

"Thanks." He keyed off the communication device as he drank his water and eventually arrived at the rear parking lot to the starport. Rising above him as he climbed out stood the tall, round hotel that graced the northwestern corner of the hub. Windowed patios lined the outer rim up to the top floor overlooking the outskirts and city's skyline in the distance. He ran around the fenceline that bordered the shrub lined pool and headed into the lobby, then through and into the main concourse that led him to the security office. Locked, the blast door stood as a lone sentry and he turned to the inset panel on the right, pushing a small, blue button.

"Who is it?" the mature, male voice asked.

"SEO Golvan, I need to speak with your supervisor."

"Hold your badge up to the reticle."

He produced his wallet, unfolded it and held it up to the small, round lens that commanded the upper half of the inset panel.

"Alright." He heard a click, then pushed the door open and walked into the darkened, square room which opened on the right to an inset hallway and another door. Monitors lined the computer console as three uniformed officers turned to eye him. The elder of the trio on the right leaned forward.

"What can we do for you?"

"I need to see a record for the hangar, F-17 over the last seven days. Visual and audio as well as any other anomalies that sparked the computer's interest."

"Such as?"

"Recirculators that turned off or on out of schedule, doors that opened without authorization, mechanical failures, burras expelling fart gas, whatever."

They chuckled as the supervisor motioned to the middle operator and within several minutes, he had his information on a datapad disc. Inserting it into his own pocket computer, he tapped the icon and began watching the boring video and what few notes had been added. Eman had been there with his girlfriend for three days before they tagged him. Leaving for meals and returning without anyone else. Droids did their usual maintenance and refilled his cargo with food containers.

In a flash, he was down the hallway and sprinting to the ship as dark blue uniformed men stood watch at the doors and hangar entrance. One of them raised his left hand as the pair leveled their rifles at his chest.

"This is a secured area, turn around," the right most warned.

"I'm Special Enforcement Officer Broc Golvan, I have my credentials right here," he motioned to his jacket pocket as he stood there, hands outstretched.

Being covered, the deputy approached, keeping out of the line-of-sight of his companion as he stopped, dipped his hand into the jacket pocket and produced the wallet, then fingered it open and peered inside. His brown eyes glanced back to Broc. "I'm sorry, sir." He handed the wallet back as he relaxed, then turned and motioned to his partner who pushed the door open and stepped aside.

Nodding, Broc jogged into the hangar, now busier with two investigators going through crates that were being loaded onto a long, open topped skiff by droids. Grabbing ahold of the guard rail on the skiff's port side, he pulled himself up and began scanning the crates.

"Hey, Golvan. What you looking for?" an equally veteran officer stood and glanced to the containers near him.

"Any of these opened, then closed without anything inside?"

A white gloved hand pointed. "That one. Why?"

Broc moved to the dark grey container, moving two others from his path and he kneeled down as he examined the rim. "I'm beginning to think that someone knew that our friend was in town and used him as their own supplier without him knowing."

"Really? As easily as you guys walked onboard, that wouldn't be too hard. It was just him and the bimbo that he was sleeping with."

"He wasn't counting on anyone with security clearance visiting him, that's why."

"So, you think our boy's innocent?"

Broc studied the inset rim closely and finally found what he was looking for. The container's normal adhesive had been removed, not leaving the normal cream colored residue along the seam. He stood, smiling.

"You're saying that someone stuffed themselves in that tiny crate and snuck onboard. They'd have to be a kid to fit in that and not need oxygen to breathe."

Broc's smile faded as he eyed the investigator. "So why was this container brought onboard without anything in it? There had to have been something transported within this thing, otherwise why open it?"

"Maybe he was thinking on smuggling something out," their quieter third partner stated.

Broc chuckled. "Well, it was an idea," he shrugged as he glanced back down to the rounded case.

Page 4 - The Gift

Muffled whining of engines of passing speeders mixed with the quiet cacophony of conversation filled the air around him as Broc ate lunch at The Bihar, a cafe that he always enjoyed here in Venado, the capitol city of Balmorra. As he watched the list of guests for the previous night's theatrical event, he waited for the one name that when cross-referenced would give him the impostor. His comlink beeped and he retrieved it from his belt and hit the 'TALK' button.

"Golvan."

"This is Conall, thought you'd like to know that Eman is heading to trial now if you wanted to catch the highlights on the news afterwards."

Broc kept his eyes on the small computer screen as he thought. "No, I've seen enough of those trials to fill in the blanks. Thanks anyway, sir."

"Suit yourself. I also wanted you to know that Inquisitor Dariko sent a commendation to the director and unit for your swift arrest. There'll be a copy in your file, of course."

Nodding, he wasn't totally sure if it was deserved or not. "I appreciate that but, I'm not totally sold that all those involved have been caught yet."

"Eman was guilty of many crimes, he's the one that will fall first for the governor's death. If you believe that there are more players out there, go get them."

"Working on that as we speak, sir."

"Good luck and keep me apprised of your progress."

"Yes, sir." He clicked the comlink off and set it back on the table. Soon, a name arose that piqued his interest. 'Laim Bronnie' which he cross-referenced with their address in the Imperial Data Core: Spoizu Mental Institution, Golas, Kirrek. Interesting how someone in a totally different sector decided one night to fly two days away without anyone catching them and attend a play here. He quickly finished his lunch and headed to the starport to see if Laim ever went back home.

* * *

Coursing through the narrow hallway towards the exit ramp, Misses Adiva guided her hoverchair down into the fuel and simmering tarmac filled air.

"Welcome to Machelen, ma'am," the pilot greeted as he turned, replacing his datapad back into his jacket pocket as the customs official walked away.

"Thank you for the trip," her wrinkles expanded as she grinned and continued on to the hub's entrance. As she glided passed four other freighters of different designs and sizes, she knew that her next target should be arriving soon also. Time to get the plan into action.

* * *

His head laid back on the thickly padded rest, Broc awaited the signal that he would be coming out of hyperspace. Further investigation found a woman leaving Venada aboard the 'Aigle' and he wasn't far behind them. He only hoped that he could catch up to her and ask her how she could be on Poderis and Albecus at the same time. Two worlds nearly on opposite ends of the galaxy would prove an interesting story indeed.

Page 5 - Next Target

Once in the unique city of Machelen, Broc headed through the starport that was elevated on the southern side of the upper ring of a construction which resembled a peeled onion resting within an enormous crater. Winds carried the scents of various indigenous flowers and trees that wafted up through the narrow confines of the main concourse as he meandered through the crowd towards the line of awaiting taxis. Opening the door of the nearest, he sat within the black leather seat and closed the door.

"Where to?" the driver asked, his maroon cap turned backwards as the face of his dark goggles reflected within the rearview mirror.

"Souris Park."

"Alright," the driver stated as he speeder lurched into traffic. "You here for the summit?"

"Yeah. I've been interested to hear the professor's views on strip mining firsthand," Broc lied.

"I don't know, I think that the Imperial Navy needs to keep us safe from the terrorist front, so why not? They need to build ships, right?"

"Absolutely."

"I think this guy needs to be careful, I'd hate for Re-Education reps to come knocking on my door."

"No kidding." He watched through the opposite window as the street wound down via bypasses and eventually arrived at the large park. It's tall trees and grass covered yard was a welcome sight after being on board his ship for two days. A crowd was also gathering to hear Doctor Bryant give his speech fronted by media and not too few plain clothed guards stationed around the podium.

"Here we are, that's twelve credits."

Broc handed the driver his credstick which the local inserted into a round slot that attached to his dash mounted computer, then handed it back. "Thanks."

"You bet."

Broc walked out into the daylight and headed towards the edge of the crowd, then turned around and scanned all the good places for a shooter to hit the speaker and quickly found that there were too many to cover. He tried to narrow down which sites would give the most cover and yet have access to the best escape routes which narrowed the field somewhat. He was still in trouble though. He only hoped that the police kept an eye on the upper rim and starport like he told them to. Perfume suddenly caught his attention and he turned to notice a shapely female step up beside him.

"What drug you out here today," she smiled and he was captivated by her smooth lines, bright hazel eyes, long silky brown hair and knew that he was definitely in trouble.

He grinned in return. "Interested to see how long it takes for Mister Bryant to get carried off by a rep from SAGroup. How about you?"

"Covering the interview afterwards. I'm Sandra Calldir with Channel Twelve."

"Broc Golvan. Pleasure," he diverted his eyes to the upper levels behind the podium, through the trees and realized that there was virtually no line-of-sight from that direction. Hopefully the officers got lucky with their LFI's before the shooter struck. Hopefully.

"Where are you from," she asked as the crowd conversed among themselves before them, waiting for the professor to arrive.

"Originally? Indikir, you?"

"Here on Poderis. Born and raised," she shifted her weight closer to him, arms crossed underneath firm breasts. He felt his adrenaline rush as the scent of her perfume carried him to a private meeting with her away from the crowd. Then he snapped back as he sighed.

"Sorry," she stated, "Am I boring you?"

"No," he stated emphatically. "It's just, I had a long trip getting here and not much rest. I enjoy your company. Do you have any plans after the interview?"

She grinned as tanned cheeks and glimmering eyes drew him in even further. "How about meeting me at the Sre Ambel at five?"

"Absolutely."

"Afternoon, ladies and gentlemen," a male voice interrupted from the podium, his voice amplified by the unseen speaker within the wooden stand. Broc turned to eye the older, tall man whose thin golden glasses reflected the sunlight as he adjusted them. Thinning black hair was combed back and curled over the ears as his head rose to speak. Suddenly, his smile went blank as a pop echoed within the air and Broc recognized the sound immediately. Sprinting for the podium as the professor fell backwards, everyone in the crowd stood motionless for a moment, then women screamed as the guards all moved to keep the mass at bay, weapons drawn while two others rushed to their fallen benefactor.
Producing his badge, he held it up as he ran towards a guard whose pistol was leveled at Broc's chest.

"Officer, Sector Ranger's move aside," he commanded which took a moment for the mercenary to register. Finally, the guard turned his pistol away and Broc leaped over the line of hedges and moved to the professor whose shocked eyes stared into the blue sky above. The bullet cleanly cut a small hole into the back of his mouth and removed the base of the spine connecting the skull with only muscle keeping them attached. He stood and turned to eye the spot that the shooter had to have been and raised the comlink to his lips.

"Level Seventeen or Eighteen, have all units converge and close in."

"Copy that," the reply from the local police lieutenant that he had spoken to earlier.

Broc turned back to eye the surroundings, then walked around the body and the two men as brown eyes scoured the area for the bullet. Turning again, he gauged the angle, then followed the projected path to where it should be, then moved over, crouched down and ran his hand through the short grass to finally find the small crater surrounded by grey dirt. He began sifting through the earth until finding only a brass remnant which quickly dissolved before his eyes. Taking out a small bag, he scooped the dirt around the disintegrated projectile and sealed the top edge for later. He was dealing with a professional, he sighed as he turned and stood to eye the far edge of the city and hoped that the police had good news soon.

* * *

Through the scope, she watched as the Ranger looked back at her, crosshairs around and disecting his face. Now she knew who was on her trail as she heard footsteps and a hard kick to the entrance next door. Grinning, she quickly blended back into the shadows of the quiet apartment and disappeared.

Page 6 - New Ally

Once the investigators and the medical droids arrived, Broc headed back to Sandra who waited with the other media, their small holorecorders in their hand, ambushing him with a thousand questions all at once. He ignored them all and pushed through to Sandra, grabbing her arm and pulled her along with him.

"We're still on, right," he winked as she nodded.

"I'll be there."

* * *

A quick taxi ride got him to the area that the shooter should've been in and was greeted by the police perimeter. Once he got out of the vehicle, he walked through the crowd of owners who all wished to get back to their homes. As complaints rose, he pushed through to the nearest officer in medium grey riot gear and uniform, rifle in hand. He pulled out his badge and showed it to the officer who stepped aside.

"Why is he going in," one man yelled.

Broc turned his badge to point it backwards as he kept walking and the man fell silent. Folding up his wallet, he stuffed it back into his pocket and searched for the lieutenant. Brown eyes scanned the front of many homes that lined up along the two-lane road at it's outer edge. Inset into the rock, the varying designs and foliage kept them from looking like uniform cubbyholes.

"Golvan," a yell from up and to the left, guiding his eyes to the waving investigator who leaned out of a second story window. He jogged up and looked up to the lieutenant.

"What've you got?"

"This window was cracked open and lines up perfectly with the shot. Probem is, we can find no trace of a person in this room. We were here in seconds and the kids that we pulled out weren't old enough to handle a gun that would've been needed for this."

"Any sign of the weapon in any trash compactors or buried?"

Tight red curly head shook as he leaned on the frame. "Nothing. He just disappeared."

Broc glared in frustration. "He's either still here or he found an alternate way to escape."

"The drainage and septic lines are way too small and we kept air units nearby. Either he's really clever or we just missed him somehow. But, I don't know how that's possible, behind these homes is solid rock."

Broc shook his head in disbelief as he sighed. "I'm coming up."

* * *

The older man motioned to the driver as another taxi that he was following stopped in front of the doors to the Sre Ambel, a beautifully decorated restaurant that entertained the more wealthy of Machelen's elite. Handing the driver his credstick, he watched as the attractive brunette stepped out, her long legs displayed beneath a silky black dress.

"Thanks, sir," the driver stated as he handed the credstick back. "Should I wait for you?"

"That won't be necessary, thanks," the mature, deep voice stated as he stepped out and closed the door. Pulling his long, dark brown jacket close, he walked up to the front door beneath the long awning and pulled on the long brass handle as he stepped in. Greeted by the darker interior, he watched as he walked up behind the brunette as she stopped before the maitre d'.

"Reservation for Sandra Calldir."

"Yes, ma'am. Your guest is waiting, this way." the tall, younger man smiled as he turned to the waiting gentleman behind. "I'll be right back, sir."

He nodded as he watched the couple walk into the crowd and head right to where the Enforcement Officer was waiting. He stood and smiled as he politely drew out her chair and then took his own seat as the waiter returned.

"Good evening, sir. Welcome to Sre Ambel."

Nodding, green eyes gazed to the host. "Reservation for Brendan Avitus."

"Yes, sir." He looked on the holodisplay and noted the reservation that had been made this afternoon. "This way."

Following the maitre d', he walked to the table next to where he knew was the anchor's favorite table. Some people were so predictable. He sat with his back to the pair and began listening to their conversation as he scanned the menu.

* * *

"So, what happened today," Sandra asked quietly. "I never would've thought that I had befriended a Sector Ranger. Things like that don't happen everyday."

He smiled as her cleavage was strategically displayed, she was an expert at getting what she wanted. "I've been following leads that have brought me here. How long have you been in the media?"

Hazel eyes looked away as she sipped her wine. "My father pestered me to do something that would have longevity. At first, I didn't think this was the best idea, especially after being called all sorts of things and pushed aside while just trying to do my job. But now, I've found that I can find out information that normal people would never know." She turned back to him as she leaned back in her seat. "Why would someone want to kill Doctor Bryant?"

Broc scanned the crowd around them, none of them had any electronic devices hidden in obvious places. "He was part of a cover-up that was trying to undercut a contract that the Navy's primary builder was bidding for. The governor of Balmorra had been using money from a slush fund to make himself rich and was using another ship building mogul to do it. They were assassinated not two days ago and I'm beginning to think that Kuat Yards is involved, they were the ones that would've lost out." He sipped from his own crystal glass as his eyes scanned their surroundings again and set the goblet back on the elegantly arranged table. He leaned forward, the central candle highlighting his more aged features and the pair of large gold earrings in his right ear. "Perhaps you and I can work together."

She smiled, studying his face. "I can see this relationship being mutually beneficial," she leaned forward, further displaying her assets. "Where should we start?"

* * *

He listened as they finished dinner quite quickly and then walked out and he followed after paying his own bill. They left in Broc's speeder and he noticed a vehicle being parked in the second row. He quickly moved to the sporty model as the young driver cut off the engine and opened the door to step out only to catch a fist in the left temple. Knocking the young man back into the driver's side, he pushed the body over into the passenger seat, revved the engine and pulled the lever into reverse and then into 'Drive' as he gave chase to catch up to his quarry. Once finding their destination, Sandra's house, he passed the residence and around into a culdesac and parked the speeder. After wiping down the gears and steering wheel, he produced a tiny needle that he moved over and injected the restaurant's employee with stym and then dumped the needle on the floor's maroon carpet. He then stepped out and pulled the body back into the driver's seat, placed his hands on the wheel, then let them drop, closed the door and walked away.

* * *

Broc awoke the next morning feeling better than he had in some time. The gorgeous brunette that slept beside him had been the need that he had desired for some time and he hated to leave her. Within the white sheets and thick comforter, he sat up and noticed the four-poster bed whose darkly painted iron had been twisted to appear as vines in a tree and wrapped with sheer, white curtains that fell along the corners and complemented the white walls and thick carpet. He leaned over to kiss her goodbye and immediately noticed her cold body. Jumping out of the bed, he stared in horror as she lay there, face down and head pointed away from him. His hand wiped his forehead in confusion as he looked around the room for signs of a struggle but found none. Quickly, he dressed and moved around to kneel beside her side of the bed and studied her face, peacefully asleep as tears began streaming down his tanned cheeks.

He quickly walked to the downstairs kitchen and made his way to the comstation. Hands wiped his face as he sighed heavily as he plopped into the chair that fronted the inset computer display and console. Fingers rose to the keypad and he punched in the frequency and his keycode, then waited for the answer.

"Deputy Director Conall," his bluish face looked up as his face lit up. "Golvan, what's going on?"

"I've got a problem."

Page 7 - Doubts

Broc stared at the cold grey table top as he sat within the interrogation room. The local officers had drilled about every aspect of the evening that he had spent with Sandra, he knew the drill and wondered if someone had set him up. Maybe the assassin was trying to send him a message. If so, he definitely got it and the thought made his blood boil. As he sat, slumped in the high backed chair, chin resting on his right fist, he tried to remember every face that he had come in contact with since arriving at Machelen. If this assassin was as good as he was beginning to find, he could be anyone.

The door clicked open behind him and he stirred as he half turned to see the lieutenant walk in, softly padding on the thin carpet.

"We got enough from that sample that you collected of the bullet. It came from a Morellian T3," he informed as he sat on the edge of the sturdy table. "Military grade but, also available to any resourceful black market contact on nearly half of the Imperial worlds and probably all those within Hutt Space and the Outer Rim," his wide shoulders shrugged. "And with a range of two-and-a-half miles, plenty of reaching ability. I'm seriously impressed by this guy's talent...."

"Hey," Broc leaned forward, his face aglow. "I woke up to a corpse this morning, do you mind!" He jumped up and headed for the door.

"I've been asked to keep you here for now by your director. He's sending two I.A. reps that want to talk to you," he extended his hand with regret in his eyes.

Broc turned and realized what was going on. His shoulders sank and he reluctantly withdrew his badge and pistols from his jacket, then handed them to the officer. "I'll be in my room or at the bar at the starport hotel." He turned and walked out.

* * *

Walking up to the comstation at the starport, the young girl, red hair tied into a tight bun peeked beneath the sloped grey cap which complemented the thick grey jacket. A heavy, black backpack hung over her right shoulder sported several silver zipper tabs as she keyed in contracting captains who held extra berthing open for passengers. Scrolling down the list, she found one headed for Toprawa - perfect. She hit the 'Contact' button and waited for the reply.

"Yeah, this is the Bierre," a younger male voice stated.

"I'm looking for passage to Toprawa, how much for a room?"

"I'ts a two day trip, one thousand credits. That includes food and cargo space for your stuff. Just you?"

"Yes," her young, innocent voice informed.

"How old are you, kid?"

She grinned. "Twenty, why?"

He chuckled, "Nothing. We're leaving at fifteen hundred, be at pad E - nine about fifteen minutes early, alright?"

"I'll be there."

Her brown eyes turned as she began to head to the cafe and noticed a familiar tanned bald head walking towards the 'Sarapul', a local bar within the main concourse. As she raised her left arm, she glanced down at her chronometer: 13:44. She had time.

* * *

Broc walked into the bar, full of waiting passengers or those lingering as they waited for friends or family arriving. Businessmen wondering where their vessel had been as they nervously glanced at their chronometers, ladies watching the holovid that commanded the corners of the seating area or over the bar itself that two droids and an older gentlemen tended. He grabbed a stool near the quieter center of the bar and sat down, then tapped the blue button on the light wooden counter top, once brightly laquered when it was laid, now singed by cigarra ashes, knife cuts, or stained by who knows what. Rising, he scanned the menu of drinks and tapped 'Corellian Whisky', then sat back as his tired brown eyes watched the shockball game which hovered above the cabinets to the right.

"Here you go, sir," the tall droid stated as he set the squat, rounded glass down on the counter and waddled away. As he sipped, a cute redhead walked in and sat two stools down and set her backpack on the black padded seat to her left as she began scanning the food menu which popped up before her. Her curves and strong, firm body reminded him of Sandra somewhat, just taller. Thoughts flooded his mind of their night together and he tore his eyes away as he took a longer draught from the glass, nearly emptying it, then slamming on the table. As emotion welled, he sat up, choking back more tears as he leaned forward and stared at the light from the long bulb that hung over the cabinet behind the bar and smaller inset area where the autochef sat.

"Rough night," the young female voice asked from his right.

He turned to her, brown eyes glossed as he grinned. "Rough week." He sighed as he straightened again. "Aren't you a bit young to be in here by yourself?"

Her brow furrowed, "No".

"You look no older than my daughter and she's too young to be in a bar."

"How old is your daughter?"

"Nineteen," he smiled. "Nineteen three weeks ago as a matter of fact."

"What's her name?"

"Sinaia. We named her after my ex-wife's grandmother," he was beginning to enjoy the diversion of thought. "Amazing how time flies, I remember when she was born," he chuckled as he recalled his mother's face, how overjoyed she was to finally have a grandchild. "No bigger than my forearm and now she's about your size, already in her second year of college."

"You must be proud," she said as the droid brought her a plate of noodles and meat.

Broc nodded, "Very. She's talking about being a xenobiologist, always was fascinated with my wife's medication and how they made it from various plants and things. She was constantly harrassing the tutorial droid about various chemical compositions and things."

"Is that what you do?"

He shook his head, "No. I decided to do something else." He glanced over to her as she ate quietly, studied her face. The smooth lines, gentle curves of her ear and neck. "How old are you?"

"Twenty," she glanced to him and he noted the hazel eyes. "Why, you still think I don't belong here?"

"Your parents know you're leaving?"

Her smile faded and she went back to her meal.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know."

Softly nodding, she continued eating. "Did you go see her for her birthday?"

Guilt set in again, he had sent a card and asked Candice to get her a gift with the money he had sent. "I wanted to, but work kept me away, unfortunately."

"Maybe you need a change of profession."

He chuckled. "That may not be an option soon," he diverted his eyes back to the serving droid and rose his glass for another round.

Page 8 - Reminders

She walked to the Bierre through thick air filled with exhaust from freighters, leaking fuel lines, buzzing skiffs and speeders that sped by. It's long ramp was open and she noticed a human male, long black pants, dark brown boots hiding a knife within the right, two pistols in shoulder holsters hidden underneath his dark grey jacket. His unshaven face smiled as he saw her walk up.

"You Alesha," he asked, brown eyes scanning her body.

She nodded, this was going to be a fun trip. "Yeah, you Cavan?"

"No," he extended a hand. "Derc, I'm the first mate."

Accepting it, she noted the calouses and strong grip, not hands of a martial artist though. "Here's the thousand," she handed him the credstick.

He eyed the chrome-like cylinder, then stuffed it into his pocket and stepped out of her way. "Anyone gonna miss you," he glanced over her shoulder.

"Not that I know of, why?"

He shrugged. "Just curious," a devious smile relayed a bit more however as he motioned up the ramp. "Excuse the mess, we're still trying to repair the cleaning droid."

She had seen worse, she thought as she walked up the ramp and entered the vessel's narrow hallways that turned left and right around the central computer core. Taking the right avenue, she noted the carbon scoring, gaps for shield deployment to repel boarders and felt the secret compartment doors underneath her feet as she passed the entrance to the cockpit to the right. Up a short set of stairs, she could see lights flashing from the computers and hear the crackle of radio conversation.

"The second door," Derc stated from behind as she passed the first door which emanated the rich scent of latirin roses, obviously the captain's quarters. Once reaching the entry beyond, she stepped into a darkened room whose right and left walls were clogged with two double bunks six feet apart, tan curtains hanging open near the foot or head of each.

"How soon do we depart," she asked as she set her backpack on the lower right bed and turned.

He glanced to his chronometer, "In about ten minutes, you should grab a seat in the galley and get strapped in."

Nodding, she scanned the room and noticed that whoever else was flying along with them must have already stowed their gear. "How many others are going with us?"

"It's just me, the captain and one other on this trip. They're securing our cargo right now," he started walking out and she stuffed her backpack within a long drawer underneath her bed and closed it, then followed him out and right to the galley. A rounded couch fronted more monitors and a bed inset into the wall at the head of the horseshoe shaped seat whose maroon covering had seen better days.

She sat down and buckled herself in as her hazel eyes studied the layout of the vessel from this vantage point, noting doorways, chair to the diagnostic station, cargo net fronted storage bins to the right and engineering door on the far side. To the left of that stood another door which pointed towards the starboard side and she sniffed to notice a strong body odor that reminded her of a gamorrean.

Derc grinned again, "I'll close us up and see what's keeping them," he pointed up and to the left of her head, "The autochef is there if you get hungry later."

"Alright, thanks," she smiled, keeping up the wide-eyed, kid look as he walked back towards the gangway, hit a button on the right and stepped towards the cockpit as the interior door rolled down and closed while the rampway rose and soon locked with a loud outgassing and click. Corellian freighters had become favorites among many professions as well as those who loved their ability to accept many types of modifications.

"Keep your eyes....," a taller and older man stepped out of the door to the left of the engineering entrance and her eyes caught a glimpse of someone sitting on the floor beyond, between the thick, green legs of the gamorrean that stepped out behind him and quickly hit the button to close and lock it.

"Hi," she greeted, smiling.

His greying head nodded apprehensively. "Hello. You must be Alesha."

She nodded.

"I'm Cavan, the captain of the Bierre, this is Lud," he motioned to his heavyset, well armed companion who glared at her as they both stepped up into the center of the room. "You ready to go?" He lightened his mood, creased face grinning.

"Yeah. This is actually my first trip in space, it's kind of exciting."

"It can be exciting alright. Let me get up to the front and we'll get on our way," he glanced to Lud as the guard waddled over to the tall chair that was bolted to the floor in front of the diag station and sat down heavily. "Don't let him scare you, he's fairly harmless. Just don't get in his way during dinner time."

"I'll keep that in mind," she eyed the porcine beast, noting the Penetrator MB-450 pistol on his right hip and Merr-Sonn Stun baton on his left next to a LaserHone Vibrodagger. She smiled nervously as the captain headed up to the cockpit, leaving them alone together.

As the engines revved, she quieted her mind and focused on the smells in the air and noted the strong body odors that had wafted out from the cargo room that they had just entered from and realized that these men were transporting someone in there. Bounty Hunters or Slavers? She wasn't happy with either and decided that she needed to find out which. If they were either, that meant that they had at least tried to do a background check on her and found little to nothing which means that she needed to keep her guard up or get shot while she slept. This trip would be interesting indeed.

* * *

Broc sat across from two officers from Internal Affairs, suits with new haircuts and clean shaven which meant they were either butt kissers or worse. He hated them the moment he saw them but, if he wanted to get back out and be able to do his job, he had to play the game.

"I see from your record here that you've served as a Ranger for twelve-and-a-half years. No counseling, no black marks on your record. Upstanding Imperial citizen to say the least," his cold blue eyes rose. "So what happened?"

"Like I told you before, we had dinner, went back to her place, spent some time together, showered and went to sleep. I woke up the next morning and she was dead," hands extended to state that he had nothing else to go on.

"How much had you had to drink during dinner?"

He sighed. "About three glasses of wine."

"What kind?"

"Cambrian. It was her favorite."

He nodded and adjusted his thin, gold rimmed glasses. "There aren't any annotations of alcoholism in your record."

"I'm not an alcoholic," he began to feel his blood rise.

"Do you have an aversion to authority, Mister Golvan," his quiet partner finally asked.

"No," he stated defensively.

"Was she a personal meeting or an asset?" the first interrupted.

"Both."

His brow raised. "Both?" Eyes dropped back to the small computer screen in front of him. "I see here that you've been divorced now for five years. How does that make you feel? Any anger towards her?"

"No," he lied. "We left on good terms."

"After she cheated on you with your cousin? Come on, Mister Golvan, we can't help you if you won't be honest with us."

"What is it that you're trying to get me to admit? I didn't kill her."

"Maybe you need some time off," the partner suggested.

"I'm in the middle of a case right now."

"You can pass on your notes to another officer," they both rose and he couldn't believe that he was being swept aside like this. "There are two officers outside now, I suggest that you go with them."

Broc rose, pushing his chair back. "Am I under arrest? For what?"

"We didn't say anything about you being arrested, we just think that you need some time away. We 've got a perfect resort that we'd like you to invest some time in. We think you'll like it," the first stated as they headed for the door, pushed a button and it slid open to reveal two suited men waiting in the hallway beyond.

"Where is this resort, exactly?" he queried apprehensively as the other two stepped in to the right and approached.

"Coruscant."

His eyes went wide and he realized that they had him slated for re-education. He began fighting and was soon overpowered and stunned. Hearing the buzz from the stun stick, his vision narrowed and then darkened.

Page 9 - The Bierre

Alesha had been watching the crew and how one of them was always in the galley, especially when she was present.

"So," Derc began. "You have a boyfriend on Poderis?" His slumped posture in the high-backed chair, left arm over the headrest as he smiled, scanning her frame.

"Three," she stated without hesitation as she strolled towards the engineering door.

"Damn, you get around," he chuckled as he leaned forward, resting his arms on his thighs. "How about a fourth?"

Hazel-brown eyes glanced at him with contempt. "I'd hate to get them mad at me, it's hard enough keeping them away from one another."

"You certainly sound experienced for only twenty," he rose, glanced towards both hallways as he approached her. This was it. He looked back at her as she backed towards the wall. "I"ve picked up a few things myself," he reached for her arm. In a swift motion, she twisted his wrist, sidestepped and swept his legs, dropping him to the floor, then planted her heel in his throat. With a crunch, his arm went limp and she dropped it. Crouching as her ears listened to the front of the ship, she rifled his pockets and found nothing of value, then grabbed both pistols - BlastTech DL-6H's - and then quickly padded, heel - toe to the cockpit where the captain would be sitting. As she rounded the computer core, the narrow door slammed shut. Turning, she sprinted for the engineering door and ran through it as the lights dimmed and she could hear the atmosphere being dumped through the vents with a sudden whoosh.

* * *

Cavan's practised hands danced across the console as he made sure that the potential saboteur didn't survive this confrontation. His competitors had tried many times and each of them failed. Dark eyes glanced to a monitor to his left and he noticed that no life signs registered in the engineering compartment.

"Goodbye, idiot. Too bad too, you were cute." He grinned as he re-established the atmosphere, balancing what he needed to keep himself alive. Frustration crept up now that his crew and cargo were dead. Simara was going to pay double this time. He pushed the chair back as he rose and stormed back towards the galley. Derc lay on the plastisteel grate, his throat crushed and now weaponless. No matter, she was dead too. He pushed on towards the engineering door and hit the button to his right. Lights from sensors and readouts permeated the darkness and he reached for the lightswitch to his left. A sudden flash from his right and the pain in his head......

* * *

She walked into the light that flowed into the busy room, humming with the life of the sublight engines, converters and other motors as she stepped up to the body now blocking the doorway. Alesha gazed down at the captain, then crouched as long, thin fingers went into his jacket pocket and produced the keycard that she had seen him palm earlier, rose and walked out into the galley as she dropped both pistols back on their owner's chest. Swiping the card, the door slid open to reveal slumped bodies of men and women grouped together in the cramped confines. Brown eyes glanced to the nearest and she noted the magnacuffs keeping his hands behind his back and her blood boiled. Slaves. Face reddened, she turned and walked back into the galley, sighing loudly as her emotions began to well.

Flashes from many years ago returned. Running in the snow, men firing into her village while her father and uncles tried their best to fight back with their own crude weapons. She could still hear the women's screams and cries echo within the long narrow valley. A hand went across her eyes and tried to fight off the tears that streamed down her tanned cheeks as she sniffed.

Metal sliding on metal reminded her of the last crewmember and she immediately moved towards the rightmost edge of the rounded couch, crept around the padding to wait for him at the corner. She could smell him approach, then stop as he sniffed the air. Supporting herself with the frame of the raised bed, she swung around and kicked the gamorrean square in the face, knocking him backwards. Unrelenting in her attack, she unsheathed his long vibrodagger and slashed across his chest and neck as he tried to fend off the assault with the stock of his long pistol until she stabbed him and stopped as she watched him fall backwards into the wall behind and slump to the floor.

She glowered over his fat body, bleeding from multiple wounds and reveled in her handiwork. The memories of those that he had helped capture would rest now, she thought. Now it was time to get on with the reason she was onboard in the first place. Strolling on to the cockpit, she swung around the captain's chair and sat down as she studied the readouts and potential of the vessel she had just commandeered. A capable freighter with many bells and whistles, she wasn't that impressed, slavers needed to be fast and strong just like pirates and smugglers. Imperial Customs was going to love this gift.

Page 10 - Toprawa

Now having left hyperspace, the Bierre sped towards the distant moons and planet that was now only bright, unblinking dots in the murk of space.

"Sir, I have a freighter on my scope that isn't replying," the operator to the captain's right stated. "I'm also picking up no life aboard. Sensors do show twenty-two bodies aboard however."

Steel-blue eyes glanced to the readout that was also on his console that wrapped around before him. He noticed the red wire-framed vessel in three views and the name: 'Bierre'. That name sparked his interest and he turned to the centermost computer screen and began scanning aliases for Corellian freighters. As they scrolled before him, it stopped to relay that the crew also had a long list of charges that they were wanted for, not only illegally added transponder codes.

"Helm, bring us to an intercept course, Security, prepare boarders. Have them in full gear, no telling what these boys have brought with them."

"Aye, sir." The veteran sergeant enjoyed his job and the captain smiled as he looked up to see the dot speeding towards them draw near.

Through the cold, quiet of space the two vessels raced towards their respective targets as the larger fired two blasts from top and starboard side turrets. Blue lightning danced around the frame of the frieghter, shutting off the engines and then power to everything else. As the freighter continued to speed towards the grey moon drawing nearer, the sleek customs frigate raced around and came alongside, extending its tube-like tunnel to attach to the round hatch on the roof of the freighter. Matching speeds with the derelict vessel, they twain became one as the boarding team breached the door and raced in.

* * *

Standing on the rear of the tall speeder truck, the brown furred alien's large black eyes stared at the large homes as they stopped long enough for he and his lasat companion to dump their trash in the side doorway whose dark opening accepted the refuse like a hungry metallic beast. Hurriedly, he dropped the squared, dark grey canister back on the curb and jumped back onto his perch for the next destination. Forest green jacket whose sleeves were rolled up to his elbows stank with his natural odors and nearly matched his dirt smudged pants which vainly covered his tall, brown, weather beaten boots. His bulbous, brown head was flanked by two long, pointy ears which ended a ridge that began under his pronounced cheeks that met in the center of his flat face where a thick, grey-streaked beard commanded his prominent chin.
Breathing in the morning air, he knew that the larger, white stone home that sat within the high fenced yard was the one that he was looking for as the truck stopped again and he jumped off to collect their trash, most of which entered the motor driven recycler.

* * *

After bypassing the security system, she lay within the shadows of tall cylintia trees whose large, rounded leaves shrouded her not only from the prying eyes of the party on the veranda at the back of the house, but also the moonlight that tried to pierce the thick canopy. She was just glad that she didn't have to kill any pets before getting into position. Flashes of the day back home kept coming up now and she had been trying hard to keep focused on her task as she lined up the shot and stared through the scope. Across the large manicured lawn, she noticed the older senator who had garnered the anger of her employer while he laughed with the young girl on his thigh. In her pretty, light blue dress, she was an angel. Swallowing hard, she lay her finger on the trigger, feeling the cold metal as it touched her fingertip. Long, dark brown locks fell on the girl's shoulders as the soft breeze from the southeast calmly brushed the blue bow that rested on the top of her rounded head. Why was this so hard? The red dot rested firmly below his left ear, black thin lines around his head and included hers as she leaned in to relax in his arms. Her smile and comfort as she lay there flashed memories with her own father as her vision clouded with emotion.

'Damnit, stop,' she thought to herself. 'Get it done and leave. Shoot, now.' Her finger firmly re-established itself on the trigger as she swallowed her emotion but her hazel eyes couldn't tear themselves from the girl's smile.

* * *

Echoing within the cavernous hallway, the thickly robed attendant headed down to his master's office. Tall, thick stone columns rose high to the ceiling as the marble floor's patterns of maroon bordered in a winding pattern in black reminded him of vines or the Emperor's hold on the galaxy, which was as it should be. His thin body supported the dark purple, velvet robe and coat whose arms sported three, thick blue stripes which shuddered as he pushed the golden framed panel. Sliding open, the large blast door rose into the frame of the doorway as he walked in, his sloping, maroon hat betrayed his age in service to the galaxy's ruler. He bowed and continued on to the dark grey chair which supported the dark spectre whose black robes shrouded its wearer in darkness.

"What is it," the croaking, evil voice echoed from the hooded cloak.

"My lord, the assassin failed. Senator Bechulle lives and has given his speech to the assembly." He waited nervously for the opportunity to leave on his feet instead of being carried out by the two red robed guards who stood quietly on either side of the door behind him.

"Give out her details to I.S.B. and Intel. I want her head on my desk within the week, do you understand?"

"It shall be done, my lord." He bowed and quickly exited the throne room.

Page 11 - On the Run

Standing within the large, oblong shaped waiting room that bordered the long concourse, the young boy leaned against the white post near the perimeter of seats that uniformly lined the western half of the carpeted area. Green eyes watched those checking in to the large vessel that was now refueling outside. He gazed through the large window on the far wall to see the long platform busy with lifter droids carrying cargo and foodstuffs for the poor of Toprawa on their departure for more promising futures elsewhere. Hopefully.

"Hey, you got a cigarra," another younger male voice asked from his left.

"No, sorry."

Nodding, the plainly dressed teenager shoved his hands into his pockets as he looked away for another potential supplier. No one cared about refugees and contract workers but, he was hoping that today wouldn't change the habits of local law enforcement. Two suited men walked into the room crowded with transients and walked up to the desk raising his adrenaline as one reached into a jacket pocket and produced a small datapad, hit a button and turned it to show the attendant something. Once done, all three scanned the crowd as the boy beside him ducked behind a heavyset women and her daughter. Balin decided he didn't want to get caught in a crossfire and calmly walked through several groups and headed to the window as daylight spilled through and warmed his face. Stealing another look, they now walked to the exit as the attendant touched the intercom button.

"Those boarding the 'Sacele' should queue to the door and begin heading to the vessel."

He nervously produced his boarding pass and drifted into the meandering crowd who slowly moved around the line of chairs and showed the two men their passes. Sighing, he calmed himself and waited for his turn. Escape through this crowd would not be that difficult and he kept his eyes open on the entryway into the concourse and noted two more uniformed officers with local patches and shouldering stubbed assault rifles as they waited.

"Your pass and identification," the male voice commanded which prompted Balin to produce his i.d. also and show it to the officer. With a wave, he allowed Balin out into the thick, humid air which he quickly made his way towards the gangway.

"Wait, you! Hold it!" he heard from behind. Spinning, he noted the one that tried to hide earlier break for the ship, sprinting passed other passengers and droids. Stepping up, Balin tripped the boy as both suited officers leveled their pistols at his back, then ran up to the fallen fugitive as he tried to get up and run again. Within two steps, they tackled him to the ground as the other two officers ran through the crowd to join them.

"Thank you," one investigator stated, eyeing Balin as they cuffed their prey who glared at Balin with hatred in his eyes. He also noted the fear that began to take hold also.

'Better you than me, pal,' he thought. He watched them walk him back into the starport and breathed a sigh of relief, then continued into the large, box-like freighter.

* * *

Broc lay on the bed, inset into the grey walls of his room during the trip to Coruscant. His only companion was the long light to his left that dimly illuminated himself and was consumed by the darkened room beyond. Hands clasped behind his head, he wondered if he would remember his daughter or anything that mattered after they were done. Horror stories had come from others who knew someone that had been through the educational brainwashing that lasted three months in some cases. He stared down at his boots and wished that he could take the last couple days back then remembered how sweet Sandra was during their night together and reniged on that thought. Nothing would be changed other than being awake long enough to catch her killer.

A click and the red light that flanked the door to the distant right went green. As the door opened, he recognized his host, Lieutenant Curran as the tall, thinly built officer walked in and knelt beside the bed.

"How you doing, Golvan," he asked politely.

"Peachy. Why? Did you guys decide to turn around?"

He hesitated for a moment, smiling. "Actually, we have a directive from the top. The assassin you were trying to hunt down is on the hit list now. You've been directed to find her and kill her."

Broc sat motionless for a moment. "I'm not a bounty hunter, we arrest our criminals and take them to trial. If you want another assassin, talk to someone else."

"It's either that or you'll be totally loyal to the Emperor and in a crisply ironed grey uniform. Eating in ninety degree angles with your fork, asking permission to go to the bathroom to the tyrannical marine sergeant that's...."

"Alright. I get the point," he sighed. "I'll bring her in. Give me the details on her."

* * *

After being taken back to his ship, Broc preflighted the 'Sinaia', named after his daughter and sat in his captain's seat aboard the RX4 as he perused the assassin's training record. He could not believe his eyes. Espionage, Expert Marksman, Expert at Disguise, Expert Martial Artist, well trained in decryption, forgery, as well as a well rounded knowledge of various types of security systems and bypassing them. His mind was blank as he imagined trying to take her down when all he had was a description that was provided by an advisor to the Emperor himself: brown hair, hazel brown eyes, five foot nine, one hundred and nineteen pounds. She was bought by Advisor Berengarius from slavers as a gift to the Emperor when she was twelve and had been trained to be one of his personal playthings as well as body guard.
Broc's mood softened when he thought of how this young girl would've been torn from her home and taken to someone on a faraway world and given to a politician much older than her. But, he had to do what he had promised - or die trying, which would probably be the more likely scenario. Brown eyes rose from the datapad as he gazed across his control panel into the daylight outside as other vessels at the starport prepped for departure or had just landed. How did he get himself into this mess?

Page 12 - Further Investigation

Two days of travel and the Sinaia arrived at the lonely, white planet. He walked up to his seat as the world loomed in his cockpit's window and as he sat down, he glanced to the monitor to the right and noted that there was only two other vessels within his sensor's range. Amazing. Being in the Bamula Sector, the Outer Rim world was unnoticed by everyone - other than slavers.

"Hey," his com crackled to life. "This is Belsavis Central, we have you on our display. State business in system." The operator almost sounded drunk.

Broc grinned. "This is the Sinaia, I'm here on personal business."

"Okay. I'm transmitting the coordinates now, keep to the trajectory otherwise you'll get lost. You sure picked a hell of a time for a visit."

"Why's that?"

"Winter time."

Broc stared out at the white world and wondered what that meant. "Copy that, thanks for the head's up." Practised fingers focused the Dedicated Energy Receptor and the screen noted only one major energy signature which also indicated the half buried city of Plett's Well. A blue dot emerged that indicated the starport was to the southwest of the city. He had called the secretary to Advisor Berengarius on Ord Sabaok and gotten the information that he needed that led him here. His mysterious assassin was born and kidnapped here and he hoped that he could find something useful that could help him find her.

Within moments, the sleek, oblong ship entered the thick grey clouds that buffeted his ship and Broc was wondering if he should have heeded the port operator's advice. He gripped the controls as he angled the repulsor vanes and jets for any sudden stops as his sensors soon went offline, then black all together.

"Outstanding," he said to no one in particular. He had never been a religious man but, he was beginning to wonder if that avoidance had been a mistake also as the view before him remained white and grey as the ship was pounded by strong winds and thunderous booms from unseen lightning. The deeper into the atmosphere he went, the darker it became until suddenly, the darkness was abruptly pierced by lights that rounded the cave entrance. He yanked and hit the accelerator into reverse as the vessel strained and protested. Landing gear lowered while he held his breath, watching the rear wall loomed closer.

"Whatever I've done in the past, I take it back," he mouthed as he tapped the starboard repulsors again. With a rush, a blast of air rocked the ship to port again nearly taking him sideways as it soon corrected and leveled out and settled to the grey tarmac with a rumbling crash. White-knuckled, he sighed heavily and turned the ship off, tapping buttons and switches. He sat back and stared left through the low cave entrance, now lit inside by large yellow lights on the walls and ceiling while snow piled on the ground outside.

Unstrapping his seatbelt, he pushed himself up and walked back through the small galley to the narrow hallway that housed his bed in the wall on the left and small refresher to the right with his locker to the right of the entrance. Keying in the code, he opened the door and pulled out his heavy jacket, gloves and hat and put them on. Once done, he pulled out his backpack and shouldered it, then closed the locker door, then turned right and headed back into the galley. Turning left, he reached up to an unseen button along the frame of the main entry and tapped it. Sliding down, the panel's cover revealed his security system's buttons and readout. Black gloved forefinger tapped in his code and then closed the panel and he took a deep breath as he tapped another button to open the main door.

Nearly taking his breath away, the cold slammed him in the face. "Whoa," he exclaimed, then quickly descended the steep steps as the door slid down behind him. Turning left, he noticed a dark form waving him towards a door within the wall and he moved towards him.

"I thought I was going to have to clean up quite a mess there for a minute," the mature male voice laughed. "I've seen some landings before, but that one deserved a medal. I'm Shakar, I'll be taking you to the city," he motioned with his head behind him, covered by a thick, close fitting hood.

"I didn't think I'd lose my sensor suite when I came through. Your man didn't warn me of that."

Shakar chuckled again. "Conner was probably still half asleep when you arrived. As you've probably guessed, we don't get many visitors in the winter months."

"The empty hangar stated that much," Broc grinned as he followed his guide towards the open shuttle door. Parked within a side tunnel, the vehicle's large, black tires looked like they could brush aside a deep swamp as he walked up to the three chest-high, monsters as his guide motioned to the steel ladder between the second and third.

"Climb in," Shakar stated as the door to the hangar closed out the howling wind.

Broc pulled himself up into the warmer cabin whose four bench seats lined behind two in the forecabin. He claimed the passenger seat and set his backpack on the floor between as Shakar climbed into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut.

"Whew," his voice dully echoed within the cramped quarters as he reached down and hit a button. Suddenly, the shuttle's engine roared to life, shaking his very bones as the heater's motor kicked in also. "So, where from?"

"Indikir, you?"

"I was born in Plett's Well. Parents own a tavern here on the edge of the marketplace and I grew up keeping an eye on the skinko."

"What's a shinko?"

"Local slave. Dirty, simple folk that live out in the valleys all over the planet. Strong though, you can work them to death if you're not careful."

Broc nodded, grateful that he was gaining mental notes on how his assassin's family would've been treated. She had grown up a slave and her current state hadn't changed anything, even after leaving this world. "They survive in this climate?"

"Oh, yeah. Amazing isn't it. Though, I guess if you don't know any better... Stay away from them, they'll gut you if they get the chance, that's why we don't allow them to keep their ulu."

"Ulu?"

"Local name for their knife. Usually made from lentik bone or in some rare cases, metal. Beautifully carved handles though," he explained as he pushed the long handle and their transport lurched into action as he drove towards the large door. "It's amazing that these animals ever learned to walk," he spat.

Broc wasn't sure he liked the contemptuous guide and knew that the earlier he got all the useful information he needed, he would find out the rest on his own. He was used to bigotry and stereotyping, it was rampant in the galaxy. As the shuttle entered the white storm outside, he couldn't tell the difference from the ground or the sky as windblown snow beat the windows as the wipers tried in vain to keep the winshield clear. Rumbling to their unknown destination, he only hoped that the guide didn't suddenly have a siezure or something or he'd be lost out here forever.
Soon, brilliant red lights to either side of a large door pierced the grey cloud before them and he breathed a sigh of relief. Opening, the door allowed them into a small garage where he noticed maintenance droids repairing another red framed shuttle that was suspended within an alcove to their left. A long bank of windows revealed a lit office where several more thickly clothed people sat around a table and ate as Shakar stopped the thundering carrier and turned it off.

"Well, here we are," he pointed to the right. "Through that door, you'll find a hallway that will take you straight to the center of the city. The Nenagh is the nearest inn to the right of Chelsea's, or you can go further to the left of Ariean's Electronics and go to my folk's place, the Zenica."

Broc nodded as he lifted his backpack, "Thanks. I'll have a look around and maybe see you later."

"Alright. It's a small town so, that's not impossible," the aged man grinned from within the furred hood.

Lowering the handle on the door to his right, he pushed with no result.

"Sometimes they freeze shut," he shoved his own door open, creaking as it swung outward. "Here, you can climb out of this one."

Leaning, he followed out and onto the large, black tires now encrusted with a thick coating of snow and jumped down. Shakar slammed the driver's side door closed and dropped down behind him, then stamped his heavy boots on the permacrete floor, knocking off the ice.

"You have any regulars that collect shinko for the town?"

Shakar shrugged. "Many have gotten into that profession, though few have survived. Why, you looking to buy one?"

"No, not right now. I was just curious. I had a friend who used to be in that business here and I was wondering if he was still around."

Shakar pulled back his hood, revealing salt and pepper hair. "Who is he, I know just about everyone here."

"Ghoukas."

Shakar's steel-grey eyes drifted away. "Why does that name sound familiar? I've heard that name before but not recently." He shrugged, "Maybe you can ask Haykasar, he's usually at the Nenagh drinking."

"Thanks," he turned and headed for the distant entrance to the city. He hoped that he would be able to escape this world in time before the blizzard grounded him for months. He still had to keep the Inquisitor apprised of his progress once in a while. Many eyes were on him and it made him quite uncomfortable.

Page 13 - Realizations

Balin lay within the thick, grey blanket that he had packed, stolen from a shelter that he had slept in before leaving Toprawa. As his green eyes studied the frayed edge of thin mat below him, he began to wonder who he really was. So much had been lost over the years. Looking upward, he noticed a mother tucking her son into bed and the sight brought tears to her eyes. She could still hear the blasters rip through the air down below as she ran up the hill behind her brother. Hiding as they had been told by their mother whose screams pierced her persona and stripped away the practised background to keep her out of prying eyes. Wiping her nose, she sniffed and closed her eyes.

'Keep focused or else you're dead,' she thought to herself.

"Missing home," the quiet male voice asked from the mat situated at her head. Balin lifted his up to see the elderly face that also turned to eye him. "We all are in one way or another. It's been the norm since he took over. Before you know it, the senate will be disbanded and he'll have his cronies running the show from their star destroyers."

"What," he asked.

Blue eyes smiled. "You've been ignoring the media, I take it. But you can still see the signs, smell the air. The old freedoms are gone now, we're told what to believe and who to talk to now."

Brow furrowed, the teenager felt his adrenaline rush. If anyone heard this old man talking like this, the wrong person. "You been self-medicating again, old man? I don't know what you're talking about. Go back to sleep." He laid his head back down and tried to ignore the philosopher.

"Mark me, one day stormtroopers will replace police. COMPNOR will replace local schools as the Emperor tells us that those that we've trusted for generations are the criminals."

"The boy's right," another female voice interrupted. "You've been listening to the wrong people. The Emperor has brought nothing but peace to the galaxy and liberated us from corrupt senators who only did what was in their own best interest."

Balin pulled the blanket over his head and cupped his hand over his ear, closing out the memories as well as their argument. She had served out of fear for so long, hating his cold, gnarled hands as they slapped her for every mistake. Soon, the emotional gymnastics drained her and she fell asleep.

* * *

Five days later, Balin walked the long hallway that bordered the galley as thoughts about her abduction from her village consumed her. She was no longer guilty for surviving nor was she remorseful for those that had died at her hand. Ilana needed to add one more name to that list and it would be the devaronian slaver who led the raid on her home and took her family from her. He would pay for the lives that he ended, even though she knew that her grandmother would tell her that taking his life wouldn't settle her empty heart nor would it bring them back. But, her uncle would say that they would certainly rest easier knowing that his blood mingled with the kariangas, the demons of the deep who soaked up the darkness and kept their pure land from being blemished.

Suddenly, red lights filled the hallways as warning klaxons resounded through the grey walled vessel. She sprinted to the service tunnelway and immediately ran into one of the escape pods. Turning in the entrance, she tapped a pre-entered code as she held her comlink out into the plane of the corridor that fronted a long line of sloped doorways and tapped the red button atop the cylindrical device. Quickly, she jumped into the pod as the door closed without her prompting and she realized that someone else had the same idea.

* * *

From the gangway, white armored men fired into crewmen and droids alike as they moved methodically through the hallways of the large transport. Pouring through the breach, they broke off into large teams that broke off into the various levels to keep anyone from escaping.

Behind the teams of stormtroopers, Ederin, Investigator for the Imperial Security Bureau unemotionally followed as the screams of women and children erupted from one of the large berthing areas.

"Pods away, sir," the younger assistant from behind informed. "No one's escaping, I've just been informed that they're all empty."

"Good. Keep in mind that she's deadly and resourceful." Ederin wasn't sure why they were restrained from just blowing this tub from existence but, orders were orders. The Emperor wanted to squeeze the life from this traitor himself and the investigator was in no position to tell their vaunted leader 'no'.

Blasts continued to echo within the confines of the vessel and sporadically resounded from deeper within the Sacele as three other teams assaulted from the other breaches. Soon, he walked into the large galley where the potentials waited on their knees, guarded by ten stormtroopers on the perimeter. He noticed their mole who secured the pods for them and walked up to him.

Smiling, the young man nodded respectfully. "I got them for you, sir. Just like you wanted."

Ederin coldly scanned the seventeen others who awaited their fates along with him. He gazed into each of their eyes as Braddan readied his bioscanner to pick out the impostor who would more than likely be in disguise. "The Emperor's cause has been served by your loyalty," he stated, drew his pistol and shot the boy in the head. "And you are one less individual that I have to interrogate," he coldly revealed as the body hit the floor.

Quietly, he waited for the results as Braddan walked among the teenagers then straightened after scanning the last one. Brown eyes turned to him as he lowered and shut off the hand held sensor. "She's not here, sir."

Ederin sighed as he glowered at his assistant who then stepped out of the ring. "Then she's still on board," he turned to the commander, emotionless helmet watched him as he nodded, then walked out of the room while the troopers fired into the group and killed them also. Once in the hallway, he tapped the pistol on his thigh as he scanned both ways. "Commander," he called.

"Yes, sir." the muffled reply that ended with the click from the helmet's small speaker.

"Evacuate your teams, we'll get her out of her hiding place one way or another."

"Right away," he stated as his squad filed out of the room. Ederin watched them march towards the gangway and he followed.

"She was informed before we hit," Ederin's contempt spewed from his thin lips.

"The flight was already in it's sixth day, that's possible," Braddan agreed as he packed the grey, rectangular box into the black, felt-lined satchel on his belt.

Walking back into the long halls of the Corellian Gunship, he tapped the button to close the door and moved to the master controls that were now linked to the freighter. Running his finger down the holographic screen, he tapped the preplanned action that would fill the atmosphere within the captured ship with a toxin that would incapacitate their prey and make her easier to find. He should have done this to begin with but, unfortunately the ship's captain felt that flexing his muscle was more important. Joint commands were such a headache.

"Tell the sensor operator on the bridge to run his scan in five minutes." Ederin wasn't the most patient man and he hated failure more as the ship's captain walked up, smiling.

"Well, where is she?"

Ederin glared. "We're carrying out the gassing like I wanted to do in the first place. If they killed her, I'm going to see that your busted down to Ensign and flying a garbage scowl in the Outer Rim."

His smile melted. "If they did kill her, then the Emperor has his prize and I'll be delivering her while your body is free floating in space. Don't ever threaten a captain onboard his own ship."

A beep from the panel interrupted their verbal barrage as Ederin turned back to see that the ship had been completely inundated with the gas. "Tell your sensor operator to scan the vessel again."

Stepping over to the comstation that bordered the large entry door, he sent the command and waited for the result. Ederin waited for the response and heard it before the captain turned to him.

"No indications of life aboard, sir. Maybe she's found a sensor resistant compartment somewhere."

"In that case," Ederin squared on the naval officer. "Get your scanning crews aboard and find her."

Page 14 - Khanfu

Practised hands danced around the order that Captain Brienus sent to his commander.

[Depart for surface of Khanfu. Search three landing sites for pods that entered zones: L18.5, L3.1, and L5.5. Notify me personally of progress.] He tapped SEND, then sat back as he grinned. The Emperor's prize would be his and he could finally be off this tub and get command of a real ship.

"Sir, I've contacted Captain Rogasian of the Victor," the communications operator stated from his lower seat. "He says that they've captured the remaining pods within their sector and are chasing down three more that landed on the third moon and should be reaching them within moments."

"Thank the captain for me and have him notify me as soon as he has them."

"Sir."

* * *

As they crept through the tangle of vines and roots, the squad of eight Imperial army troops moved up to the pod whose round door remained closed within the center of the round, oblong pod. Buried within the trees that it had settled into, the vehicle's carved trench through the underbrush and tall trees allowed sunlight to glint off of the burnished walls from reentry and scratched from plowing through the foliage.

Motioning to stay on the perimeter, the squad's second in command crept up to the hatch, rifle at the ready as he reached up and pulled on the lever to open it to the planet's cool climate. From behind a nearby tree, another gunner raised his rifle and aimed for the entrance, large barrel underneath the weapons primary one pointed in anticipation. After the door opened, the marksman fired the canister into the interior of the pod as the sergeant dodged backward onto the ground, then crouched and waited for the occupant to try and crawl out. Within seconds the open hatchway spewed a thick, greenish gas that poured out and fell to the grey earth and gnarled branches, then soon dissipated.

All waited as the gas soon cleared and the lieutenant motioned for the sergeant to then move back in as the rest covered him.

Keeping his rifle at the ready, he moved up and quickly glanced inside to see the dim interior quiet. No one moved or were choking. He reached and pulled himself up and crouched on the elevated rear between the small jets and peered in for a closer examination. Dipping his head deeper into the capsule, he led with his rifle into the seating area that lined the wall and found no one. Rising, he shook his head and relaxed. As he gazed around into the thick, green forest, the team moved up as two kept their eye on the perimeter while the lieutenant walked up, E-11 couched in his right arm and raised the comlink to his lips. He pushed the button to the com device...

The thunderous explosion ripped into the trees and men alike as the soldier rose from his hide deep within the brush, smiling. Black smoke replaced the pod and men in dark grey as a shower of flesh and metal rained through the boughs above. The man turned and moved quickly to the southeast in hopes of finding a settlement where he could report. Sporting greens and browns in his camouflage patterned jacket, the freedom fighter hated having the Moff's troops within his homeland. They couldn't fight the navy toe-to-toe, but they could handle what was reachable.

Ilana watched him move from his spot and head away from the scene of the crime. She was just going to make those chasing her think that she was still aboard the Sacele, but things had changed now. Rising, she glided through the forest and followed her unsuspectng guide for the rest of the day and into the evening until he reached a small farming community. Crouching on the edge of the treeline, she studied the barns and homes that stretched for miles within the sloped valley, bordered by verdant hills on the far side. Cut by a thin river that ran north-south, the center of the town consisted of about twelve buildings, most two-story. She would wait for cover of night before attempting any reconaissance.

* * *

Pacing as he bit his lip, Investigator Ederin waited impatiently for any news as the hours ticked by. Braddan kept replaying the datafiles that the captain grudgingly relinquished and soon stopped.

"I think I've got something here," he revealed excitedly as he looked up. "She was on one of those pods."

"What," Ederin said as he walked around to his assistant's side and peered at the screen. For a split second as the sensor operator had focused on the vessel and before they breached, a hint of a signature registered near a pod, then disappeared. "That's nothing. Probably a spike or some interference."

"What if she's found a way to hide herself from sensors? Commandos do it."

"You're suggesting that a common outlaw has access to that kind of technology? Come on, I need something concrete." He stated emphatically. "Time is running out. Account for every signature onboard and cross-reference that number with the manifests for crew and passengers."

"I already did that and I keep coming up one short."

Ederin leaned over. "Then, she's still onboard," his hot breath emphasized, then pushed away from the younger investigator and headed for the bridge.

* * *

Broc crouched within the high drift overlooking the ruins of the village that he believed his target had come from. Brown eyes gazed across the narrow valley that fronted a jagged shoreline of ice to his left and high mountians to the distant right. Below, the long, stone and snow walls stood in silent testimony to the family groups that made up this village for who knew how long. His breath fogged as it rose into the air and drifted with the soft breeze and he could almost hear the blaster fire echo through the valley. Children screaming as they tried to run for cover or knelt over the dying bodies of relatives. Emotion welled as he tried to imagine her crying for her mother as the devaronian slaver reached down and wrenched her from her home and threw her into the back of a large speeder truck along with her cousins and other relatives.

Suddenly, he got that familiar chill up his spine and slowly turned to see a short, fur clothed man staring at him from thirty yards away. Spear at the ready, he noted the cold, black eyes glaring at him as he slowly rose, hands outstretched.

"I'm a friend," he stated, wondering if the native could even speak Aurebesh at all, much less understand it. "Do you understand me?"

"What are you doing out here," the surprising reply. "This is sacred ground that doesn't need you tainting it."

"I apologize, I didn't mean to offend you or your ancestors," he informed, hoping that his choice of words was correct. "I'm just seeking some answers, that's all."

"Why would an outsider come here for answers, you're not Saami."

"Saami? That's what your people call yourselves? I was led to understand you were called..." he understood now that shinko was the derogatory title for the locals.

"No." His dark brown, widened face smiled, cheeks more prominent than before. "We are Saami. Now, off our land before I taint it with more outlander blood."

Broc walked towards him and away from the village, nearing the hunter. "Perhaps you can help me with my questions. I'm trying to find a girl that was born and raised here."

"What's her name? Many were taken long ago and haven't returned. Moving huts that glided across the snow and went north."

This was going to take a while.

Page 15 - Ties

Broc awoke to the chill in the back seat of his speeder that was rented in Plett's Well nearly two weeks prior. Even the sleeping bag and portable generator keeping the heater at full blast was ill suited for the climate here. Fog rose with each breath and had crystalized on the windows that the morning sun was casting an opaque brilliance through. He had no idea what the assassin's real name was but, was lucky enough to have gotten a list of girls who had been born there and would be about the right age. The Emperor had kept no record that she even existed so all he had to go on was the memories of those involved. He only hoped that he could get to her before the wrong people did as someone of her knowledge and background could be a dangerous ally to the terrorist front.

A loud knock on the driver's door startled him as he jumped, eyeing the shadow that stood on the other side.

"Goba," Asautsiaq yelled, his paraphrased name in his host's accent. The hunter had brought him to an alternate location that the survivors had built after the raids.

"I'll be out in a minute," he returned. Pushing himself up, he hadn't taken off more clothing to sleep in than was absolutely necessary and couldn't wait for a hot bath. Drawing out his legs from the warm, padded bed, he pulled on his boots that were nearly frozen also and geared up in his thick jacket and gloves, then pushed the door open. Protesting, the creaking barrier swung outward to reveal the elongated, snow covered homes that rounded a central pen full of nanterei, the local guard animal that stood three feet at the shoulder. It's thick furry hide was a patchwork of browns, greys and white, it's face rounded with two beady black eyes that glared at him as he stepped out into the deep snow, then closed the door.

"Morning," his new friend greeted, perfect white teeth gleamed in the sun. "You sleep well?"

"Like a baby," Broc grinned. "I'll have to be going today though," he sighed. Translating what he was trying to find out into what the hunter could understand had taken him more patience than he thought he had. "You said that her family still lived?"

Asautsiaq motioned to the others within the village as they skinned hides, hauled tools, washed their children and played with their pets. "We are all family. All Saami come from great father," he motioned back south to the mountain that commanded the western edge of the valley where he had first met the patriarch of this village three days ago.

Broc glanced back to the distant peak that now seemed like just another bump on the horizon. "Right." He looked back at his host. "And she will more than likely have to find the ones responsible for the deaths of her closest ancestors."

Nodding, the dark haired man's face melted into a serious gaze.

* * *

Ederin walked into the captain's office aboard the Invincible, the Corellian Gunship that he had spent two grueling days while waiting for the engineering droids to nearly strip the freighter to it's frame. "I'm submitting my report today, is there anything that you want to add in your own defense?"

"What are you talking about?" he looked up from his long, black laquered desk.

"I'm letting my director know how you impeded my investigation by withholding information. So, I thought I'd allow you to try and defend yourself before you're court martialed."

Rising, the uniformed officer glared. "I have to say, you are without a doubt the most arrogant inidividual that has been my displeasure to meet. By the way, you and your staff are free to go."

Ederin grinned darkly, "If that's how you want it," he nodded, spun on his heel and walked out. Now he had to continue his search on the ground, in the forests and surrounds of Khanfu. He knew that once he heard about the failed recovery attempt of the pod within the western mountains near Horby Mose, that she was on the move and more than likely trying to find a place to hide. Pathfinders were already on her trail and it would only be a matter of time before he was accepting the gratitude of the Emperor himself.

* * *

As one with the shadows, she watched as the security droid rolled by on his rounds towards the hangar door, silent motor buzzing as photoreceptors scanned the open bay that housed a large yacht. Centered, the vessel had been under scrutiny by others as well. From the opposite side and up on the edge of the metal frame, a small camera had been infiltrated into the hangar by thieves intent on stealing the governor's favorite toy watched and gathered information. She would just wait for them to open the door first.

Page 16 - Escape

"When I say go, you run to the door and I'll cover you," Verleiian stated as he checked the clip in his pistol, then looked up to his partner in crime. Her long dark hair was always pulled up into a bun when they worked, blue eyes gleamed with anticipation. Both in their forties, he had been a transporter engineer for twelve years here in Horby Mose when he decided that a life of adventure would be more fun - especially when he met Mehmet, his lover and wife.

"Waiting on you," she smirked as she checked the small monitor again. "He's on the backside now and should be near the door within twenty seconds.

"Alright," the adrenaline pumped as he crouched near the spike and prepared to unlock the main door.

* * *

Ederin rode in the speeder as the men in the field had been giving him regular progress reports on their hunt that ended up at the small farming town of Sasu, but no sign of their young man after Ederin completed his scan of the area.

"Sir," his comlink called. Lifting it back towards his face, he tapped the top button.

"Go."

"We've got a silent alert at the private hangar complex in Nestos," he informed, speaking of the elite suburb of Horby Mose. Perhaps their friend had tried to escape after all.

"All teams, close in." He leaned forward to Braddan, "Let's go."

"Got it," the assistant stated excitedly as he gunned the accelerator towards the alarm. Racing through the streets of the quiet neighborhood, being the middle of the day, no one tried to impede their progress and the trip took only minutes and they arrived at the gate at the same time as the hoverscouts filled with men from the local army base.

Tapping the internal com within the small console before him, Ederin hailed the ISB Headquarters.

"This is Investigator Ederin, clearance code: KD-1958. I need a transport at this location and alert the local garrison to a possible blockade runner."

"Copy that."

He jumped out as the hangar doors exploded open from gunfire, then ducked for cover as chunks of permacrete flew into the fence and entry control point, raining around their speeder. Following the blast, the revved engines from the governor's yacht erupted and flew into the air as a barrage of missiles filled the sky around it, some hitting and bouncing off the shields while others continued into the distance. Ederin stood as he watched his quarry escape again as the sleek ship disappeared into the cloud cover. "Damnit!" he yelled, pounding his fist on the hood of the vehicle.

* * *

As they penetrated the ionosphere, the yacht sped for the darkness of space as Mehmet glanced to the sensor screen and noted the blips speeding their way. "Company, love."

"How many?"

"Six TIE's, should intercept within thirty-five seconds."

"Not as clean as usual, but I'll take it," he grinned as he pushed the engines to one hundred and fifty percent and as green bolts flew passed their path, the yacht entered space. "Plot and I'll hold them off."

"Almost done," she informed, excitement continuing to fill the upgraded cockpit whose pilots enjoyed the newest of computers, sensors and interior design. Rocking the vessel, two shots hit the shields and rocked them momentarily as Verleiian eyed the power dedicated to the shields, still optimal, then to the hyperdrive system: optimal. He prayed that it stayed that way as he dodged and ducked their shots and soon the fighters themselves as the first pair flew by, screaming as he turned the controls to port and rolled between the second and third pair. Snapshots popped, spewing red bolts into the engines of one fighter which exploded into shards of fire and metal.

"Go," Mehmet yelled which prompted the pilot to level out and pull back the controls to the drive, sending them into streaming stars that soon disappeared altogether.

"All in a day's work," he smiled as he sat back.

* * *

Ederin eagerly watched the battle from a distance as the freighter tried to catch up, but then watched in dispair as their prey zipped away into hyperspace. "Calculate any known destinations along that trajectory," he commanded the navigator.

"On it."

"This bastard isn't getting away."

"Sir," another sensor operator called from his left within the cramped cockpit. "There were two in the cockpit of that vessel. A human male and human female."

"Then I want both of them."

Page 17 - Caliste'

After four misjumps, the 'Apatin' entered a darker, seemingly empty parsec of space as Verleiian and his wife entered the cockpit. Twenty-seven hours in flight had been spent enjoying their prize, especially the lavish bedroom and marble bathtub. His creased, tanned face smiled as he sat down and recognized the glittering anomaly that filled their view. As if an enormous sparkling planetoid whose light only shone in small areas, the encased system had become a hiding place for many over the centuries.

"Look for the outgassing," he stated as he prepped the other systems to all come online as soon as the door was located. Unsure of who else may be claiming the system on the outer border of the Tauri Sector, he eyed the sensor suite, now in passive, to see whether or not they had company and found no one.

"Here it is," Mehmet informed. "I'm sending the coordinates to the nav now."

"Alright." He smiled as the scent of targiyu had permeated his skin after the long bath and now wafted around him in a fragrant aura. Fingers raced from system to system as he gunned the engines towards the gateway that was the only down side to their hiding place. As he neared it, their persistent pursuer, the modified freighter 'Medias' emerged from hyperspace and gunned their engines in pursuit.

Racing to the unseen jet of gases that emanated from the tunnelway, both ships' engines blew ionized gas into the darkness behind them, threatening to burn off the thrust nozzles.

* * *

Ederin eagerly watched as they neared their prey as he leaned over the center console between the seats.

"Sir, they're going to escape into the entry," the pilot informed.

The investigator knew that this system was very dangerous and he didn't want to risk the Emperor's prize escaping again nor did he relish the thought of chasing them through the rushing lane through miles of large asteroids.

He sighed and glanced to the copilot. "Fire a missile into them. Disable the ship before they reach it."

"Sir," the grey uniformed officer replied as he plotted the target and fired.

* * *

Verleiian knew that they were going to win this race. He had known how to find the doorway and also knew that once they entered the ionized rush that all their sensors would go offline and he would be flying with skill alone. The nature of the tunnel also helped them choosing target vessels to steal - long and sleek. As he lined up the 'Apatin's' nose to the center of the river of gases, a warning beep erupted from his left and he noticed the missile on his tail. This would be close.

Entering the rush, the yacht buffeted and rocked violently as the sensor suites all went black.

"It's all us now, babe," he stated as their teeth were nearly jarred from their heads. He looked through the window and noted the winding and spinning asteroids that seemed to bounce off of the unseen river and he had to keep his eyes on the opening between and feel where the rush was the cleanest which meant that he was in the center, otherwise they could bounce off of any of these enormous rocks and that would be it.

* * *

"Did you hit it," Ederin asked as the tunnel neared.

"I'm not sure, sir."

He looked over at the pilot. "Then we go in after them."

Nervously, the pilot eyed him, then turned forward and aimed his bulkier vessel into the opening and prayed for the best. As he kept his eyes peeled for the lane that shifted constantly, he began perspiring while having to endure the narrow confines of the moving asteroid walls. As he juked and dived, the walls began to race up to the sides of their ship too fast and he realized that he couldn't control their acceleration. Nervousness sank in as the walls careened closer, then they felt an enormous shudder which sent him uncontrollably into the far wall.

* * *

Verleiian pushed his vessel as fast as it would go, knowing that the competing forces would help him navigate the lane, he just kept his mind on keeping to the middle and soon saw the darkened distance widen until they exited into the system's quiet interior. He breathed a sigh of relief as the sensors came back online, lighting up each monitor and the warning resumed. As he glanced to the incoming projectile, the missile hit the engines, shuddering the vessel violently as larger debris flew past their cockpit or bounced off of the hull. Lights flickered as the intertial compensator also died as he felt the gravity give out. Their pursuer hadn't been as lucky.

As he tried to get a handle on what had been damaged, he noticed the large gas giant loom into view.

He turned to his raven haired partner. "Get to an escape pod," he directed as he unstrapped his seatbelt and drifted upward. Pulling themselves along, they reached the nearest entryway. Floating downward to the lower level, he pulled himself along, Mehmet in tow, and towards the round, metallic hatch. As he went to hit the button to open the door, the small window in the center caught his attention as the pod sped from the ship. He gazed at the bottom of the small shuttle as it raced from view and arced to the left. Soon, his eyes went wide as he saw the blue of an atmosphere quickly fill the empty grey bordered hole.

Panicked, he pushed himself and Mehmet towards the second pod on the port side. As they entered the hallway, the gravity wrenched them into the near wall, sending sparks into his vision, then darkness.

* * *

As red streaks carved white scars into the bright blue sky, the pod also raced to the large, green moon whose mountain range loomed into view. Lowering, the small capsule crashed through trees as large, fiery metal chunks fell to the surface, burning the clean air until hitting the ground, creating large pits in the verdant hills. Suddenly, the pod stopped, rocking and hissing as the small engines simmered from effort, ejecting white smoke into the now polluted air as more shards and comet-like projectiles continued to fall through the sky.

Turning the handle on the hatch, Ilana pushed the door open and drank in the clean, cool air as hazel-brown eyes scanned the white lines that creased the sky above, intersecting the multicolored layers of gases and clouds that made up the gas giant beyond. Fires soon sent dark plumes into the air as she dropped into the grey trench. Her closely fitting, black body glove was her protection against lighter damage as the Corellian Hunt Suit over it kept her from prying eyes. With two E-11's holstered on her hips, she picked her way through the tall trees until finally reaching the wreckage of the yacht. Strewn for nearly a mile, the remaining cockpit and gangway sat quietly, half-buried at the feet of four enormous trees whose rounded, green boughs kept it safe from the distant sun. She walked inside and towards the cockpit where her two hosts had once been to find the empty seats.

Crouching, she noted many of the undamaged electronics that she could scavange from later and turned as she rose to look for their bodies.

Soon, she found their remains and knelt near the pair of lovers who had spent most of the trip in one another's arms. Her portable LFI had kept them in sight the whole time so the stowaway wouldn't be discovered. Her smooth, tanned face grinned in admiration as she rose and began burying them.

Page 18 - Vesevolod

Wives and their spoiled children aggravated the clean, crisp air that wafted through the large patio as Broc sat under a large tinted umbrella whose thin transparasteel hovered over the round table. Their complaints about the heat, the service and other small prejudices was beginning to get on his nerves. It was almost as bad as listening to the Internal Affairs duo nearly two months ago. He sighed as he sipped from his tall thin glass.

A slap on the back interrupted the gripes around him as he looked up and to the left to see Torq Ozzel's smiling, tanned face as he plopped down.

"Good news?" Broc asked.

"Yeah, of course," the younger human male stated enthusiastically, then took off the dark glasses. "Hey, that looks good," he motioned to the drink.

He leaned forward. "After."

Torq relaxed as his smile faded. "Alright," he leaned in also. "I've got what you were looking for but, it wasn't easy to come by."

"I've already given you your half and you'll get the rest when I get what we agreed on. Not a cred more."

Torq shook his head, short dark hair dimly reflecting the sunlight as he gazed out to the pool surrounded by young, nubile females. "I always admired this lifestyle. It'd be nice to have a few of those to wake up to."

Broc glanced towards the healthy young women in various colored swimsuits and agreed. "You're stalling as usual." He turned brown eyes back to his accomplice. The computer hacker hadn't been hard to find, just hard to get a straight answer from.

Torq glanced back to the undercover officer. His left hand inched forward as his forefinger opened slightly to show the edge of the datadisk. "I trust you've got mine."

"All I need is a time and address, that's it."

The smile faded from the rounded face. "Tomorrow night, Bingor's estate."

Broc's blood cooled at the sound of the Hutt's name. Being the crimelord based in the Tauri Sector, the slug was rumored to have even Moff Nera in his pocket, though he doubted that seriously. He nodded, then slid the credstick across the table which quickly disappeared as Torq rose and walked away.

"Have a nice day," the tall, lanky spy said as he left.

Broc sat back, fist to his chin as he eyed the pool's blue water and he wondered if this was a trap or not. He would have to be cautious. Getting hired on within a kajidic wasn't easy but, if he could get in, he would be able to keep an eye on Ghoukas and just wait for the assassin to show up.

Page 19 - Stowaway

"Why can't he carry his own garbage," the male voice complained from below as she watched their shadows grow long, then walk towards the tree covered temple which had been here long before the Empire's influence ever reached the sector. Stealthfully, the black clad snake slithered down the side of the freighter as the ramp slowly rose, then slid between and up into the vessel. She had spent eight months on this moon and was beginning to become stir crazy. Heat signatures registered in her helmet display to the distant left as they walked around the computer core whose heat was nominal. Gliding across the steel plated floor, she quietly padded towards the right as she reached the forward cargo bay door. Extracting the miniature spike, she hacked into the security system, then disappeared inside the dark confines, then closed and locked it behind her.

After a two-and-a-half day trip to the Azotusian System, the Nine Hells landed within the starport on Mycale'. The bustling starport that serviced the large city of Vesevolod greeted the party of well armed men as they descended the rampway, then closed it behind them. As they drifted into the crowd of men and droids, the young human male turned from the cockpit and headed to the gangway, then pushed the blue button lowering the ramp. Rude that they would leave without him like this. Opening to the brisk air, the cacophony of buzzing droids, whining skiffs passing by as well as the pungent odor from whistling repulsors in the freighter across the wide lane attacked her senses. Ilana knew that the simple disguise and forged paperwork would get her past any checks, they weren't looking for a twenty-three year old mechanic anyway. Green eyes scanned the intersection as port authority speeders whined passed, then disappeared beyond the landing gear of the nearest yacht as he walked to the starport's busy entry.
Being able to gain very little on her hosts since climbing aboard their ship, she did know that they had been working for someone named Muir and had decided that she would find out what they did for a living. As she glanced down at her chronometer, she noted the tiny blip to the north and knew that they still hadn't left the immense building yet. Jogging, he hurried to keep them within easy reach.
Out front, she noticed them pile into a rental speeder and the young man quickly turned and flagged down a shuttle which whipped towards the curb and stopped in front of him. As the door opened, he jumped in and pointed. "Follow the blue Digne there," his deeper voice stated.

"Okay," the droid replied and gunned the accelerator as the door closed.

Through tall, romantic suburbs and soon into the shimmering highrises, they coursed through traffic and busy intersections for nearly twenty minutes until finally reaching their destination in front of another, glass covered building which rose into the sky.

"Thanks," Vardon stated as he reached forward with the credstick, then opened the door and stepped out.

"Have a nice day," the droid bid and the smaller shuttle drifted off down the long circle drive and back to the main road as he trailed the group into the marble and transparasteel lobby. Each of her hosts dressed in varying styles but all had a jacket or coat which concealed a pistol or two and tall boots which also hid knives. One of them, the sandy haired, thinner and always studying the people around him concealed a lightsaber under his right armpit that hung from a shoulder harness. That made her nervous but, if he was of any skill, she never would've made it here unmolested.

They walked to the turbolift cluster as the pilot, Tak Yalarian hit the button to go up and they all waited. Shorter, his close-cut hair and thin goatee fit his persona as the ship's captain. He also enjoyed his DL-44's which hung from their shoulder holsters and she was amazed that the security sensors hadn't gone off at the front door when these guys walked in.

Illuminating, the soft yellow light above the entry lit as the rounded doors opened and he followed them into the plush carpeted interior. The door closed and they spent quiet moments as the capsule rose into the air and she watched, noting the floors go by as they finally reached the twenty-third and it stopped. Vardon, being the last off led them out into the plant-lined hallway that immediately turned left and into a large casino. Windows lined the right and distant walls beyond banks of tables and booths which flanked the central bar tended by droids. He approached the entryway and walked through. Suddenly, an soft alarm went off and the two armored men standing to her right stepped up, rifles raised at the ones she had traveled here with.

"Hand's up," the muffled voice stated.

"We're bounty hunters," Tak informed as he motioned to his right jacket pocket. "My IPKC is right here."

One of them stepped up and pulled out the identification, then nodded as he handed it back. "What about them?"

Each of his traveling companions produced their own and she nearly laughed that the one carrying the lightsaber even had a license. These men were rebels but, why were they coming here? Vardon continued on towards the bar and noticed the large dance floor on the far side of the casino that wrapped around the counter that cut off the banks of alcohol from their customers. Tall holoprojectors displayed games and sports of all types as suited older men watched as they sipped their whiskey.
Now cleared, the six men split up as some headed for the bar and others for the distant gambling tables. She watched all of them and soon noticed Tak and another approach a rodian at a booth. His own goon was watching from a neighboring table, well armed also. Leaning on his right arm, he adjusted the hearing aid in his ear and tuned in their conversation.

"Good to see that they hadn't captured you, I was beginning to wonder," the rodian stated calmly.

"We delivered what you wanted and he said to tell you he'd be at the party tonight," Tak informed.

Sighing heavily, the rodian sipped from his glass, then set it down. "Great. I also have your invitations here. It's at seven-thirty and don't bother bringing your weapons inside or they'll be confiscated. Understood?"

"Sure. How do we get there?"

"Here's a map," she heard a small disc tap the tabletop. "I'll see you there. Bring some dates if you like, the twi' lek's that attend are usually taken."

Tak chuckled. "I'll see what I can do."

Vardon needed an outfit, the invitation would be easy enough. She would just forge one of theirs.

* * *

Playing the part, Broc walked into the crowd behind his new employer as they headed through brilliantly dressed female rodians, twi' leks, devaronians and human females as they entertained their boyfriends, lovers, and owners who all tried to keep their standing with the hutt whose bloated body rested on the long, ornate couch that commanded the far wall. His squad of toughs not only guarded his flank but were also dispersed in the crowd. Music filled the air along with puffs from various tobacco's and drugs.
Ghoukas smiled and made his appearance with Muir and several other friends, then walked down a hallway to the right and grabbed two armfuls of entertainment who stood along the walls near a closed door. Broc noticed a gorgeous, blue skinned twi' lek that smiled at him and walked up to her. Barely covered, her healthy body called to him as he wrapped his arm around her small waist, then led her into the room which Ghoukas and three other of his trusted lieutenants walked into. The smell of stim, harras, melo and other hallucinogens hung heavily in the couch filled room. He still couldn't believe he was attached to this animal whose habits and thrills made Broc wish to kill him several times. But, he had a job to do, he thought as he sat onto the thickly padded couch.

He turned to his companion. "What's your name?"

She smiled as long, thin fingers carressed his cheek. "Does that matter," she asked, then kissed him. Her perfume intoxicated him and he soon felt like he was flying as their hands explored. Her strong, toned body made him wish they were in private when the flash of Sandra's face suddenly interrupted. He backed as she kissed his neck.

"What's wrong, baby?" Her deep green eyes looked up as he grinned nervously. He had to keep himself under control here.

"Nothing. I have to keep my eyes open, that's all."

She straightened, "I don't mind if you watch," she smiled.

"That's not what I meant," he glanced over to the devaronian who took advantage of both of the girls beside him. She turned and watched also as their spectacle through the fog nearly made him blush.

"That's Ghoukas," she asked.

"Yeah. That's him."

Suddenly, gunfire erupted out in the main hall which spurred him into action as he stood. His companion stood also as he drew his pistol, then walked to the door.

* * *

As the blue-skinned twi' lek approached the slaver, Ilana's blood boiled as the memories of her family being slaughtered for his own profit made her sick. She drew the long vibroblade that had been hidden on the inside of her thigh and stalked across to the trio who totally ignored the fighting outside the door. Leaning over, she yanked the girl from his right who faced her angrily, then backed wide-eyed as their twi' lek companion planted her spiked boot in the devaronian's chest. He cried out as she leaned over and planted the knife under his chin. His lieutenant's were busy and high while the human watched through the doorway.

"Remember me," she spat, pushing the knife into his jugular slowly.

"I've never seen you before," he said as sweat poured down his forehead.

She knew that the drugs floating in the air around them had already taken ahold of his lungs and brain which kept him from aggressively fighting back. It could also help in another way too, she thought as her left hand grabbed at the disguise and slowly peeled her head off, tearing as it rose. His eyes went wide and he began screaming as the blaster fire and yells outside muffled the cries. Soon, her tanned, human face emerged as long brown hair fell down onto her blue shoulders as her victim began crying uncontrollably. She stepped off of his chest and he reached for his pistol. Flashing to his hand, she yanked it away from him, spun the handle and fired two shots into his chest, then turned for the window as the twi' leks screamed and ran for the door, nearly knocking Broc down. Ilana fired into the window and dove through the holed pane as she glided over the heads of the involved duo on the couch underneath.

* * *

Broc turned and noticed the activity behind him in the room after dodging the two females. His eyes focused as he saw the red bolts and then heard the crashing and the silhouette going through the window. He leveled and fired, then ran towards the escaping assassin. As he passed the devaronian, he noticed the eyes staring into space and two smoking holes in the body. He had turned his eyes from the very one that he was here to find. Sprinting, he noticed the tree lined border that rose from the snow filled decline from the base of the large estate. No body. He jogged back, then turned and ran to chase her as he dove from the window himself.

Landing in the thick drift, snow exploded as he landed, then rolled down towards the trees, then stopped with a thud. That was going to leave a mark, one of many that he had collected over the years, he thought as he pushed himself up, then felt the barrel at the base of his neck.

"Who are you," she asked.

He raised his arms slowly as he sighed. "Broc Golvan."

"You chose the wrong career attaching yourself to an animal like him."

"Actually, I only did that to find you, Maggewetok."

The quiet lengthened. "Where did you hear that name?"

"Your uncle on Belsavis told me about you and your cousins. I wanted to kill him myself, but it looks like you beat me to it. There are a lot of powerful individuals in the galaxy that want you dead right now."

"No kidding." The shove to his neck softened, then a hit to the back of the head sent sparks through his eyes and then darkness.

Page 20 - One Day

"Patience brings even the greatest treasures to you," her grandmother stated, smiling as they scraped the lentik skin as her brothers chased one another through the busy women, some of who still got in a quick spank as they passed.

Ilana awoke to the familiar rumble of sublight engines which echoed within the cave that she now called home. Pushing herself up, she picked her way deeper into the cavern and rolled behind a large stalagmite as she unshouldered her rifle and lay it between the crook of a smaller one. Eyeing the distant entrance through the scope, she waited. Vessels had approached several times within the past year and she was getting used to the distractions. Other than the animals that lived here, she had no intelligent targets to shoot in some time.

Quiet reigned for some time as she waited and soon the nervous feeling arose, warning her as usual to company. She heard the footsteps approach the side of the small cave as light poured in from the early morning sun, then stop.

"Hello," the younger male voice called from outside her view. He was sitting to the right of the edge. "I'm sorry for interrupting your life here, my friend stated that acquaintences of his had reported an elusive hermit that lived here. I thought that this moon might have room for the both of us." He seemed nice enough but, clever bounty hunters usually were. "I've been dropped here for a hiatus myself and was hoping that at some point we could talk. We may actually have a few things in common."

Her finger rested on the trigger and waited for the smallest hint of his body to show itself but, this one was smart. How did he know she was in here?

"Actually, I've been rethinking my life and found that I've chosen the wrong route several times that all pointed me down a road that I never thought I could get off of without dying. It's amazing how you never see these things until after the fact," he continued as she moved deeper into the shadows and disappeared.

"My father was..is an influential person in the Imperial Navy and I think he and my mother assumed that I'd follow in his footsteps. There were those who had other plans however." His wavy, red hair and short, trimmed moustache complimented dark brown eyes and olive complexion as he poured out his past to the surrounding trees and their neighbors. "Especially once they found out about certain special gifts that the galaxy gave me. Had I a proper teacher, I would've been fighting for the Rebellion, not them," he smiled, sitting on the small rock, hands clasped over his knees as the bright sun cast shortening shadows across the mountainside.

Ilana slowly crept out of a secondary vent tunnel high and to his distant right as she leveled the rifle at him while she lay on the ground, blending with the surrounding brush and trees. She noted his dark brown jacket and black pants, the newer hiking boots but no weapons.

"I figured that this place would give me an opportunity to continue my training and focus my mind on the important things in life," he continued as he glanced to his right. "I'm sure that's why you're here too. Perhaps we can help each other," he eyed her directly. "What do you say?"

"I was fine before you arrived, I'll be fine long after you're gone."

He grinned sympathetically as he nodded. "No doubt. Perhaps then I'm the one who needs your help."

"I'm not trained to be a psychiatrist, sorry."

"They'd be short sessions, I'm sure," he laughed as he spun around to see her more directly as he softened. "You have no reason to trust me right now. I know that. But, being alone is only good for a while. Soon, you'll need someone to talk to and I'm willing to listen. I used to be good at that, I'd hoped to be so again."

"It's nice of you to be so presumptuous."

He grinned. "I can see that we're not going to be attending any garden parties in the near future. I threw out the invitations when they arrived, sorry."

She felt a grin crease her face as she watched his every move through the circular, lined aperture.

"I'm sorry, I've been remiss. My name's Alrek Ladislaus."

Ilana quietly watched his every move, patiently waiting to see how this chess match would end. "Where's your ship?"

He motioned with his head to his left. "Down the hill about half a mile. I've got it camouflaged and the entry code is: H2746-LKI8. Just in case you shoot me before you find out I could be your best friend."

"Again, I appreciate you being so presumptuous."

His head cocked to the side. "Does that mean I get a reprieve or that I'm breathing my last?"

"How did you know which cave I was in?"

"I guess you missed that part when you were climbing up behind me. I'm a jedi."

She froze.

Page 1

Light danced upon the white walls within the small home from the central hearth as Maggewetok and her three younger brothers listened to the story of another great hunt. Their father constantly had tales of fascination that he and her uncles experienced on the great blue that bordered their village. Animated, the orange light danced upon his dark brown skin as he spoke, accentuating the dramatic parts with wide eyes and extended hands as her mother smiled at his side.

She sometimes wondered, as she had gotten older, how true some of these adventures really were. Her brothers definitely believed every word, so that was enough for their father, it seemed.

"So Agbolik helped you find the large one, father," Asautsiaq inquired.

Disheveled hair shook as their elder nodded. "The right offerings before a hunt always bring his favor." His forefinger cut the air between them, "Don't forget".

"I won't."

Her mother rose, "Alright, that's enough adventure for tonight. Get some sleep," she directed. Maggewetok always admired her mother's beauty and strength. Not all Saami women held that same sway, even though she wasn't the village's matriarch. At least a great example according to her only daughter.

She pulled the large fur blanket over herself and Miki, her youngest brother and smiled at her mother as she kissed him on the forehead, then reached over and repeated that blessing on Maggewetok. "May the Qigiq take you to higher places upon his wings," she smiled and moved to the middle pair of sons.

Happily, she closed her eyes and felt slumber take her.

* * *

Out of a sound sleep, a hand nearly wrenched her from the bed as Maggewetok's hazel brown eyes widened in shock. "Come, take your brothers and cousins from here," her mother directed as she was being shoved out through the narrow entrance to their home. "Run to the hills," she continued with tears in her eyes. "Don't look back."

Now fully awake, Maggewetok could hear the odd sounds coming from the western edge of the village as her father and uncles gathered, ulu's and spears in their hands. "What's going on, mother," she asked, fear growing.

"Do as I say," the older woman stood and motioned to her three cousins. "Now go. RUN!"

Without thinking, Maggewetok sprinted towards the neighboring qarmait built of snow blocks and covered with kauk skins to further insulate them from the cold. She pushed her brothers and cousins on to the lake's shoreline, then turned north to use the bordering hill of white to shield their escape as the continuing popping sounds echoed in the valley behind, mixed with the battle shouts from their elders and parents.

"I can't run anymore," Aituserk pushed out between labored breaths. Her cousin never was strong as she glanced back to the younger boy. "Have we gone far enough?" He glanced back and she stole a look towards the village herself, now masked by the hill to see orange glows support billowing, black smoke that rose into the night sky.

"Mother said to run," Asautsiaq replied and grabbed Maggewetok's sleeve and pulled. Everything in her being wanted to run back and save her parents, but she kept hearing that voice in her mind that stated otherwise. How could this be happening? It had to be a bad dream.

Anana shoved her brother northward, "Come on. We have to keep going." Nearly her own age, her cousin was another strong one, but more mentally than physically. Maggewetok pushed the small group onward along the floe, then moved up the snowy banks and more inland until finding a suitable place to hide within a shallow bowl. Overseen by a black, rocky rise, the place gave them some view of the lake to their left and long valley to the distant right.

"Get some rest until they come to get us," Maggewetok directed as they huddled together. 'Great Father, protect our families from whatever evil is there. Send Aguta away,' she envisioned the dark 'gatherer of the dead' gliding from the depths of the land and greedily taking the lives of those she loved. Tears streamed down darkly tanned cheeks and she felt a reassuring hug from her cousin as Anana's head rested against hers. She closed her eyes and wished for this nightmare to end.

* * *

"Abor' ityku," someone said and laughed as Maggewetok awoke and noticed shadows lording over them all. Brown eyes rose to the hideous and armored forms. Suddenly, she jumped up and yanked her ulu from it's sheath on her belt and attacked the alien. He sidestepped her knife, grabbed her wrist and yanked. Her momentum carried her into the snow as she rolled into a heap. Cries and screams from those she was told to protect gave her body energy as she pushed herself up and went at him again. This time, he didn't bother wrestling with her, but raised his metal spear. Blue pulses erupted and hit the small female squarely. Her rage quashed in an instant as white and dark shades went to black.

* * *

Horrid smells assaulted her nose as Maggewetok awoke to the rumbling of the dark qarmait she was now laying in. Walls of dark grey held boxes and odd shaped ribs as her mind focused. Immediately, she pushed her head up and did a head count of her family. Two brothers and three cousins... Wait.

She reached over and shook awake her brother, "Nukilik, where's Asautsiaq?"

He looked around, then glanced back at her as tears welled. "I don't know."

"He wasn't with us when these things found us," Anana informed from her right and she glanced to her cousin. That couldn't be.

"You're sure?"

She nodded and Maggewetok only hoped that her brother was okay. Being the more headstrong, he probably went back home, even against their mother's wishes. "You okay?"

Maggewetok nodded and glanced around to see their captors sitting on large boxes or leaning against the wall. Some were doing things with their metal spears, others slept, ate or talked in their strange language. Their eyes made her sick inside as two of these things watched her eye them. One of them smiled, his teeth yellowed and broken and she swallowed hard.

"What do they want us for," Pakak asked from his mat behind her. She was afraid to answer that question.