He listened to the conversation silently, his eyes moving from one person to another as each spoke, seeming almost as if he were watching a tennis game. He drew in each of the words spoken, drinking all the information in.

This Katya Skyhawk sounded like quite a piece of work, but he wasn't scared. Hell, he wasn't even worried. When you went through life and did the type of things that he had done...it took quite a lot for you to get worried.

"Count me in," he said, "I'm intrigued now."

"Skyhawk, eh?" the lips said, rolling the name around almost lazily. "A curious name, though appropriate for her line of work, I suppose." The mismatched eyes gazed upward. "I don't think her father would have liked it too much, rest his soul..."

Lane gazed back down and noticed the four pairs of eyes staring. "Ah, apologies, I must have been talking to myself." The lips curved enigmatically upward. "Of course, Lady Odnova, I'd be delighted to accompany you to see this Skyhawk person. It should prove informative in more ways than one."

"It's settled, then." Tysyacha reached out a fragile-looking mesh-gloved hand, and Rika Saben, the mysterious Lane, the mechanic without a name, and Kimber Quitaan all placed their own hands on top of hers in a quintessential gesture of loyalty. "We seek out Katya Skyhawk, and whatever foes pursue us, we will take them down. No one ever saved the galaxy by playing it safe--or by selling cookies." Kimber grinned.

"As for Katya herself, where do you believe her present whereabouts lie, Rika?" The Exile put one hand on her generously curvy right hip and waited for a reply.

************************************************** ***

Darkness is a sign of corruption, of decay. All light--no darkness anywhere...

The world's gravity had been turned, tilted, to lie in the exact region where twin white-hot suns never stopped shining. The planet itself was quite pleasant, habitable at least, but the creatures upon it still had not evolved to the point where they did not require darkness for sleep. They scuttled around in a half-daze when awake, not sure why they were on this world or how they had come to feel so perpetually tired.

An explorer on a foray in the cool, white night. Beautiful, she was, with calm eyes that were the flesh-and-blood examples of the serenity all Jedi sought in their souls. Hatred was beneath her, she was beyond love, and revenge was mere childish folly.

Her goal was Light, only Light, both on planets and in hearts and minds. Why should there be evil, when it was at last within her grasp to cleanse the galaxy of it?

Bastila looked up at the twin suns and closed her eyes for a moment to bask in the blue-white light. I shall be the Light of the Galaxy. And when this planet yields up its enormous mass of palladium, I shall have all the fuel I need to power the fleet needed to find Revan and with him rid the universe of the scourge of the 'True Sith'. It is my destiny..

Bastila opened her eyes again and spoke to the heavens beyond the stars. "Soon, my love. Soon we'll have everything we need, and I can hold you in my arms, hear the beat of your heart, and feel your strength against me. My heart aches for you, Revan."

The priorly stagnant air suddenly began to move ever so subtly between the large high-rise buildings that stuck up like jagged teeth from the gaping maw of Nar Shaddaa, the stink and decay of the area momentarily forgotten as the breeze made the air seem almost...clean. Fresh. As if it had come sweeping across the plains of Dantooine, rather than a cesspit like the Smuggler's Moon.

He tilted his head to the skies, looking to the small sliver of sun that beat down between the tops of the buildings, closing his eyes as the warm rays shone down on his skin. He took a deep breath while the breeze lasted, enjoying this fresh breath of air while he could.

The light of the galaxy...

"The last I heard of her, Katya had been spotted on Tattooine. Rumor says she had been hunting a Krayt dragon nearby the settlement of Anchorage. My guess that she would be hiding out at the dragon's lair, if she weren't in the settlement. Or...she could be dead, of course, but..." he lowered his head again, his eyes now on Tysy. "That would put a bit of a damper on things, wouldn't it?"

Kimber snorted at the mechanic. "Nah, she's alive. Anyone who has the gumption to hunt krayt dragons, or worse hang out within the dragon's lair, certainly has got to have enough will to stay alive. If for no other reason than pure stubborness or spite," she added with a quick grin. "But living in a krayt dragon's lair on Tatooine? How apropos for a 'necessary evil.'"

She looked upwards, looking at the space traffic above them. "If it's Tatooine we're going to first, I can get us there in a couple of hours." She grinned secretively. "I know a shortcut. And," she added, looking at Tysy, "that's a good place for us to resupply if we need to. I've got some favours I can call in with a certain well-known Hutt."

Tysyacha made a small poluvazhenie half-nod to Kimber with her gaze. "Good plan. Tatooine, even though it's hotter than a basilisk's warmth rock, would be a vast improvement over this stinkhole of a planet." She made a face. "Sorry. I know I sort of helped things here, back when I was still wandering the galaxy and trying to find the last three Jedi Masters, but even the best of changes can slip back into inertia or decay if no one makes any real effort to keep those changes up." Knowing nods.

Maybe it was her picturing Tatooine in her mind's eye that caused her to feel a warm, almost hot breeze. At the same time, she experienced a vision, or merely a flash of a vision, about a glass of water. Her imagined self was tipping the glass up toward her mouth, drinking with relief and almost pleasure, and then doubling over in utter shock.

"Acid!" her imaginary alter-ego cried, coughing and spitting. "I've swallowed acid!"

Then reality came back into focus again, and Tysyacha shook her head in a rapid reflex gesture. "Sorry about that--blanked out for a minute. Saw a vision of myself in my imagination, and I was drinking acid by mistake. Maybe that's a warning not to try Tattooine's tap water. Heh, heh." Confused looks from the crew, and a blush from the captain. "I guess I'm starting to sound like Kala-Naa. Come on. Let's go before the steam and fumes from down below find their way up here and do that to me again."

Unsettlingly, the look on the mechanic's face said It wasn't the core fumes at all.

After her own vague comments on Katya Skyhawk, Rika fell mysteriously silent, not even answering when Tysyacha directed a question to her. Then, the Exile recoiled and Rika's eyes snapped suddenly into focus on Tysyacha. At the woman's feeble explanation, Rika's eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

"You may want to keep that in mind," she said softly, almost reproachfully. She shook her head and blinked twice. Then she nodded. "Yes, Tatooine will do fine."

Abruptly, she turned and lead the way back toward the ship.

Hyperspace travel this time was longer than the travel that it took to get to Nar Shaddaa, Tattooine having been quite a few quadrants away. No shortcuts this time - shortcuts through Hutt territory was never very advisable, and even a roguish Corilliean knew that.

With another half an hour of nothing to do ahead of him, he sat back in his bunk in the men's dorms with a sheet of tools spread out beside him. Pulling off the glove of his left hand, rolling the sleeve of his shirt up past his elbow and halfway up his bicep. A small sliver of muscular skin was visible beneath the edge of his shirtsleeve, but from the elbow down, the skin disappeared. In its place was gleaming biomail.

The robotic arm's face was open, and his miniature hydrospanner was whirring in his hands as he cut out a small section of faulty gears, a replacement visible in a small plastic bag sitting on the roll of thick cloth beside him with the rest of the tools.

Within the past few hours, the fingers had begun to jam ever so slightly, and he had grown far too annoyed to put up with it any longer. Rather, he decided to take this extra time to sit down and fix it for good.

HK-47, far from being bored or "stifled" by patrol duty (as much as a droid could be stifled), rather enjoyed it. Not only did he get to intimidate absolutely everyone, but he also got to form deeper impressions of the newest crew of the Ebon Hawk. This served to let HK know, of course, whether or not he should "terminate" them.

As of now, his suspicions were not exactly put to rest when it came to the nameless mechanic. Any being, droid or meatbag, that refused to identify himself/herself/itself by any sort of name was automatically suspect in his mechanical mind. HK wondered if this mechanic were in fact a spy, and he was spying upon a spy. He'd soon find out.

"Reporting Statement: I have been 'picking up' some odd noises from the men's dormitory, Master, to use the inferior terminology of meatbags," he announced. "They are slightly outside your normal range of hearing, so I decided to alert you of a possible mishap or malfunction of one of the locker containers. Perhaps the still-unidentified mechanic is attempting to fix a problem, but my perception is that this is not the case." A cough.

"You're probably right, HK," said Tysyacha, "in that he may be trying to fix something. Nevertheless, I'll go see, because the way the Hawk is right now, she's an old girl, and we can't afford to have her malfunctioning in the middle of hyperspace." She rose from her place in the co-pilot's chair to check on the possible "situation".

"Is everything all right?" she asked the mechanic, smiling gently. "HK said you might be fixing a--problem--?" Was she seeing things, or was his arm not quite an arm?

His eyes flicked up to the door when he heard Tysyacha's voice. He did not jump in surprise, even if shock did flit across his eyes for a moment. His only immediate reaction was to pull his arm back out of view behind his leg, his eyes focused on her the entire time.

"Exile..." he said, the faintest smile coming to his lips, "Everything is perfectly fine. Is there something I can help you with?"

He had been hoping that no one would have had to see him and his arm...but he supposed that while in such close confines, it was only to be expected - especially if he had to constantly be fixing it. But, even so...

An embarrassed blush came to Tysyacha's cheeks. "Erm--I'm sorry, no. HK was just getting a little suspicious, and he supposed one of the lockers in the men's dormitory might have malfunctioned. I apologize if I disturbed you, and now I'm going to go and disassemble one nosy protocol droid." Her eyes narrowed. "Assassin droid, I mean."

"Interjection: No need, Master. I am simply here to inform you that we shall soon be landing at the Anchorage station on Tatooine. You might wish to fasten your seat belt." HK-47 saluted sharply and returned to patrol duty, and Tysyacha scowled at him.

"Next time, I'll make sure he stays out of here unless it's an absolute emergency. I'll leave you be, unless you want to come up front and view our descent. It's quite a light show." A wink and a crisp quarter-turn to the right, and the Exile was gone.

************************************

Tatooine. The very name was a synonym for not only hot, but so kriffing hot that you could fry a krayt dragon egg on the sidewalk. Tysyacha could not think of any time she had been on this planet's desert surface without almost fainting from sun exhaustion. Were the Sand People still here? What about the Czerka merchants and corporate drones? The Exile had heard that Revan, being of just nature, spared both.

His smile became a bit more prominent. "There's no need to apologize - really, Tysy. It's quite alright."

The annoyance that flickered across her face made his eyes soften. He recognized the expression from so many years ago...from a time that was both brighter and darker than the days now. It was rather...nice, strangely.

"I'll be out momentarily." he said, nodding before lifting the hydrospanner in his hand again. "Thank you, Exile."

When she and HK had left - HK hesitating to give him what he thought was supposed to be a warning look - he lifted his arm into his lap again, finishing taking out the faulty gearing and replacing the parts in question. The whole process took about ten minutes - ten very rough minutes, due to reentry. He was rather amazed that he hadn't accidentally cut something that he shouldn't have...

Snapping the casing closed again, he twitched all of his fingers experimentally. When they didn't jam, he shook them, curled them, wiggled them - and they all worked. Wonderful! He pulled the long glove back on, pulling the straps tight. Quickly, he rolled the tools back up and deposited them in his locker before sliding that under his bed. Straightening his vest, he proceeded to the cockpit.

-----------------------------

He leaned against the wall near the starmap, his arms folded over his chest as he looked out the viewscreen at the dock outside, his blue eyes following the progress of the Czerka officer that was already coming towards the Hawk, clipboard in hand. His upper lip pulled back in a small snarl.

"Ugh...not them." he muttered. "The worst part about Tattooine is the Czerka. They're allowed to run completely rampant around here - hell, they're practically the only government they have."

Kimber spun around in the pilot's chair to face the mechanic. "Yeah, well...," she said in a slow, disparaging tone. "It's either Czerka or the Hutts. And of the two, neither is desirable. But..." She gave him a quick grin, "not to worry. I'll get us a discount on the docking fee."

With that, she rose and headed out of the ship to meet the Czerka officer. She put an arm around the man's shoulders, guiding him away from the ship and towards the Czerka office as she talked to him in hushed tones. In a few minutes she was back on board the Ebon Hawk, with a couple of permits in her hand.

"One permit for docking," she said, waving the permit in the air, "and another for... wait for it...." She grinned. "Krayt dragon hunting." She wiggled her eyebrows. "'Course, I don't know the first thing about dragon hunting, so...." Smiling, she tossed the other permit card to the mechanic. "But you look like the capable sort. I'm sure you can advise the rest of us on how to 'blend' in with the hunter crowd around here."

Tysyacha shrugged, and her gesture betrayed cynicism with just a hint of sadness. "I guess someone has to sell things to the tourists from off-world and keep some small semblance of law and order around here. Although," she said ruefully, "having been their flunkie and fall-girl once, I shouldn't be the one to sing their praises. I know just how hollow Czerka's 'law and order' can be, and also their sense of 'fair play'."

At a surprised look from the mechanic(?), a tall, dark-haired female approached them.

"Welcome to Tatooine," she said with a lipstick-glazed smile. Her teeth must have been capped and bleached with the most intense Kaminoan salt-bath methods. "I am Bah'ri, and I hope that your stay on this planet will be a pleasant one, although not too long. The sandstorms are coming--it's that season. Is there any way I can help?"

Tysyacha smiled in return, although far less effusively. Jana Lorso certainly didn't teach me to grin that way, she remembered. Then again, I wasn't exactly in the customer-service department. I was more in the 'stealing droids and smuggling' one. "We're looking to go big-game hunting," said the Exile, which earned a pleased murmur from Bah'ri. "The weapons are with us, but what we don't have are any maps of notable caverns or lairs. We'll also need a sandbroom to ease our way on the trails, and a supply of rations for five." Bah'ri nodded appreciatively and went to get the supplies. She certainly was efficient, and the materials she brought of good quality.

"That will be one hundred credits," she said, her smile re-pasted onto her pale face. One hundred credits was a lot, but the rations were real food, not the synthetic kind that was often fabricated off-world and sold to Tatooine dwellers at exorbitant prices.

"Much better than dried bantha jerky," the Exile complimented. "Thank you, Bah'ri."

Deciding not to travel in the heat of the day, Tysyacha, Lane, Kimber Quitaan, the mechanic, and Rika Saben trudged along a marked trail toward one of the massive lairs. "Krayt Dragon's Cavern," it was labeled, and yet the Exile wondered if any of the huge beasts had ever shown their faces since Revan had slain one on his visit here.
It was sunset, or nearing sunset, and any reptiles might be out hunting or foraging.

"There it is." Tysyacha pointed. The cave was as dark and deep as the entrance to Malachor V, sprawling for hundreds of feet. Such space would be required by animals as large as krayt dragons, although humans would find it rather hospitable in a pinch.
It looked empty, although you never could be too careful around any strange caves.

The Exile lit her lightsabers, and Rika did too, once they neared the mouth of the lair. It looked lived-in, with (presumably) bedclothes scattered about, and crude dishes. Datapads, possibly broken, rested in the corner, and gnawed bones lay here and there.

"Ugh," said one of the other females, perhaps Rika or Kimber. "What's that smell?"

Tysyacha tried hard to keep from laughing, only smiling instead. "Bat guano and reptile droppings. Not fresh, though--perhaps only a day old, and matted with straw. "Good thing this sandbroom will come in handy." She took it from the mechanic and handed him one of her petite silver sabers. "Please, hold the blade. If Katya Skyhawk lives here, I can't fathom how she can stand it." The dung was dry, so her work was light.

"Why are you even doing that?" someone mumbled. "Maybe this cave is abandoned."

"Penitential labor, long story," replied Tysyacha. "Don't worry. This won't take long."

It didn't, and when the Exile had finished, she created a great Force Wave outside of the lair to bury the droppings under six feet of sand. Everyone else had stood back(!) After the dust had cleared, Tysyacha looked around once more. "Well--doesn't seem like I did any good. No one's shown up yet, and it's almost nightfall. We don't want to be out here in the dark." Not that she was afraid--only cautious, only desiring safety.

He was still twirling the silver saber round and round, watching appreciatively as the blade lit curving arcs in the air. He didn't cut himself, and it didn't come anywhere near his body - so much for lightsabers being 'unruly' weapons. It handled just like a vibro blade.

"No, we don't." he answered, "But I don't know that we would want to leave here. It seems pretty well-lived in - everything seems quite recent." his eyes didn't leave the acrobatics of the spinning blade. "I'm sure that whoever lives here will soon be back. The night usually brings people crawling back to whatever hole they crawled out of."

With one final toss, he flicked the saber off, the blade withdrawing into the hilt. He smirked faintly, pleased with himself, before offering it back to the Exile. "We can either stay here for the night, and maybe catch whoever we're looking for, or return and get back to Anchorage a good thirty minutes before nightfall and return in the morning."

"Whoever or whatever we might catch here will not be Katya," Rika said. "I did not speak earlier, for it mattered very little where on the Outer Rim we went. Tatooine will suit our purposes just as well as any other planet out here." She looked into the cave for a moment. "Katya has eyes everywhere out here. We merely need to... catch her 'eye', so to speak."

She nodded toward the cave. "It may do us well to stay here overnight. Let us see what we can see. I sleep very little as it is. You all can rest. I will stand watch in case we have any unexpected visitors."

Maybe it was sleeping on bare rock that was only flimsily covered by crumpled sheets that did it. Regardless, Tysyacha had a nightmare, one that caused her body to break out in sweat. Or was that the night heat, customary for all seasons upon Tatooine?

She was standing before a Jedi, a Twi-lek, with a saber as silver-white as her own.

"Come with me," she said softly, her eyes kind. "Or, please, let me kill you before my Master does. She's severe, and the methods she uses to persuade her prisoners are even more severe. I can't pretend I don't see the power in you, because I do. You and the man Master loved are the two most powerful reported Jedi in the galaxy. However, neither one of you will last before the Indoctrination, or the Judgment Seat. I will make your exit painless if you'll kneel down and bow your head, lovely Exile."

Instead of shaking her head, fleeing, or even poising to attack, Tysyacha asked, "Who is your Master? What does she want?" A brief pause. "To vanquish the True Sith?"

The Twi'lek's laughter, like the tinkling of silver bells, made Tysyacha shiver inside. "My darling! Don't you know who the True Sith are? They are all of us, every one, because we have all done wrong and made harmful and dark errors in our judgment. I am no Jedi, Lady Dvukh. I am one of the True Sith, but I have been forgiven. As will you be, if you turn to the Light. My Master is waiting. Submit. I don't want to have to kill you, but she will if she finds out you are still hostile to her plans by the time we've finished speaking. Let the Light of the Galaxy find you, cleanse you. Let it fill you."

"Light has no place for murder, for domination, for torture and interrogation," Tysyacha said. "Let me turn you to the Light, and perhaps we can stop your Master before it's too late." She reached out a hand, sensing no intentions of harm on the Twi'lek's part.

"Ah, Ty-sya-cha..." Her name said slowly, like a caress. "She is unstoppable. With her Battle Meditation, she can conquer the world, and the galaxy. Don't walk this path. In her eyes, and in mine, you are still a Sith, though you can turn back and be saved."

"Take me to see her," came the terrifying words, "and if I die by her hand, I die."

Tysyacha convulsed with fear, knocking her head against a rock and not even caring.

The softest, almost inaudible whir emitted from his hand as he shifted his fingers every few seconds, his hands joined behind his back and feet spread in military at-ease fashion. The glow from the item before him shed a blue light on only half his face, leaving the rest in ghastly shadow.

"The Star Map." he whispered under his breath.

And so it was. When everyone else had fallen to slumber, he had risen, unable to resist the item's call. With a single touch of his human hand, the three arms of the device slowly opened, and the great map that was hidden within its ancient databanks had expanded before his very eyes. Those eyes now examined every inch that he could take in. The hundreds of planets, billions of stars, and multiple systems from his many years of space travel were recreated here - data holes and all.

When a sudden shifting of clothes sounded somewhere behind him, he spun and ducked to his knees, his blue eyes piercing the darkness. It was Tysyacha who had been moving - and as she twisted in the blankets that covered her, he slunk further into the shadows, expecting her to wake.

But she didn't. She uttered a small moan, and thrashed once more - her head colliding with the rock beside her - and lay still once more. That didn't last long, however. She shifted again - and then again.

She was having a nightmare.

Knowing from experience just how terrible nightmares could be, he touched the Star map again, allowing it to close before dashing quickly over to where she lay. With a gentle hand, he knelt next to her, his hand touching to her shoulder.

"Tysy? Tysyacha."

The Exile jerked awake, startled, saying not a word besides her muffled gasp. Her eyes were half-full of sleepy grogginess and half-full of something else, some deeper form of consciousness besides what kept her alert and functioning during the daytime. Not noticing the mechanic per se, but rather a warm and sentient figure needing guidance and clarity, she motioned to him with a quick snap of the wrist and slowly walked outside, drawn by an enveloping hypnotic trance. In her white nightclothes and with her ghostly pale skin, she looked like a wraith newly risen from the dead.

Not minding the rocky floor of the krayt dragon lair or the desert sand beneath her feet, Tysyacha kept walking until she and the perplexed mechanic were about a thousand yards out into the desert. Not once did the Exile break from her state or look back to see if the man was still following her. It was as if she knew the Force would have him follow, and no matter if he professed to the contrary, he'd obey it.

When she had reached her destination, surrounded by a billion stars and their cold and dispassionate fire, she turned and pointed to a faint speck in the sky. A lost planet, perhaps, or a star that had turned into a white dwarf, dying at last?

A rhyme came to her lips, dark and insidious, making the mechanic's blood run cold.

Where the darkness used to be, that's where you'll find the Light.
The Star Forge may have been destroyed, but not its center's sight.
Malak was only a pawn, as are we all, somehow,
In this war between Light and Dark, the Light shall conquer now.
She waits for you, she waits for him, the one he left behind.
The price of life for this one is his love, but he is blind.
He'll say she plans to use him for the Dark Side's greed and gain,
But once he yields, and once I yield, we all shall feel no pain.
We have the option to retreat, and that can be our choice,
But if we do, the galaxy will lose its only voice.
She's there, the one who rules us all. She's waiting, the Sublime,
And we must find her and join her before the death of Time.

Tysyacha fainted. Her body lay limp on the sand. Was the mechanic there?

He was there, and by falling to his knees in the sands, he caught the Exile just before she hit the sands, one arm of strong human warmth and one arm of cold mechanical preciseness closing around her small form as he held her away from the hot sands. He could feel her life force - beating and pulsing strong through the Force - and was not worried. Something or someone had simply used Tysyacha as a gateway, as a channel to send this message. The question was, had it been direct straight to him?

Looking back to the sky at the bright, abnormal star that the woman in his arms had pointed to, his sharp blue orbs locked onto its position, widening slightly. He knew that star - he had seen it from the ship as the Star Forge was destroyed, falling and collapsing in upon itself. A shiver of frightening power wracked his body. The last place he wanted to return was there...

His mechanical arm supporting her upper body, his right arm slipped beneath her legs. Standing up, he picked her up and cradled her against his strong chest, striding back in the direction that they had come.

Bastila peered out the large window into the bright white day, overlooking the palladium mines and refineries.

Her apprentice, a beautiful green Twi'lek, joined her at her side. "I delivered the message, my Master. I used the poem and planted it in her mind. She was powerful, Master, and resisted so strongly I had no choice but render her unconscious."

Bastila acknowledged her with a slight tilt of the head and kept watching all the faraway activity. "Her power is no match for the Light, E'lina. She carries much darkness from her time with the Betrayer, but she cannot defeat the Light. We will be ready for her, you and I and our other followers. The Force wills that all who do not submit to the Light, those 'true Sith', must be destroyed, and we are the agents of that Light. We cannot fail."

The area just outside the cave was suddenly tossed up by the descent of a small shuttle. It landed several meters from the mouth of the cave and the boarding ramp descended slowly. A cloaked man stood at the top.

"You should not have chosen this cave, strangers," the man said slowly. His voice was loud and clear. "Strangers do not fare well in the barren wastelands of Tatooine... even strangers with exiled Jedi for companions."

Rika rose from the meditative position she'd taken for her night's watch and strode forward boldly. "Speak, stranger. Katya Skyhawk has sent you."

"My mistress commands," the man said. "I obey. And you must obey as well. Come aboard and I will take you to my mistress. She knows you wish to speak with her."

Rika nodded. "Of course she does," she said. To her companions, she said, "Kala-Naa might have given our descriptions to one of Katya's eyes. If we are to speak with her, if we are to get information from her, this is the only way."

"It is risky," the cloaked man cautioned. "Katya Skyhawk has no great love for Rika Saben. Board this shuttle if you are without fear."

Rika boarded immediately.

He had been kneeling beside the sleeping Exile, his eyes on her blissfully peaceful features as her breath came evenly in and out, his mind whirling with the apparent prophecy she had uttered nearly an hour ago when the ship descended. He flexed his left arm, closing the fist as his right hand gripped around the wrist, as if readying himself for whatever will come. He did not stand, but his eyes shone alertly in the light of the docked ship, watching the cloaked figure move down the loading ramp.

Listening in silence, he tried to make head or tails of the situation - and found that there was little for him to go off of. This would be risky, as the man had said...apparently, this Katya Skyhawk wasn't on good terms with Rika, making their situation only that much work. Turning to the Exile as Rika immediately proceeded up the ramp, he gently touched her shoulder.

"Awaken, Tysyacha," he said softly, giving her a small shake. "We must move."

The Exile immediately became alert, as it seemed her ship's mechanic and rescuer had given her a "small shake" with more than just his hand. Her mind had been touched by the Force as well, and she gave him a grateful smile, though she was confused.

"What? Huh? Oh, sorry--must have really dozed off for a moment there." With a nod from the mechanic, she let him guide her aboard the mysterious shuttle that did not seem to be the Ebon Hawk. Apparently, one of Katya Skyhawk's minions had found Tysyacha and her crew sleeping in the lair of the krayt dragon and was now condescending to take the five of them to where his mistress waited. Excellent. Although, the Exile felt more than just a queasy feeling in her stomach this time.

"What happened?" asked Tysyacha to the mechanic. "I feel rather strange right now."

After debating whether or not to tell his Captain about the possibly Force-driven midnight occurrence in the desert, he gave a knowing nod and told her everything. It did no good to keep too many secrets on such a critical mission to save the galaxy. After he finished explaining, he wished he could narrow the Exile's blue eyes a little.

"Let me get this straight," she said slowly. "I had a nightmare, I hit my head on the rock I was using as a pillow, and then I got up and walked out into the desert and said a freaky poem?" A nod from the mechanic. "Oy! Maybe I really am going crazy."

"Don't forget about the ashen star," he reminded her. "It seemed dead, like a lost planet or a nova that had changed into a white dwarf or neutron star. Also, you only 'got up and said the freaky poem' under some kind of a hypnotic trance. Trust me--I know you wouldn't do that under normal circumstances. You love your sleep, as do I." The Exile started giggling uncontrollably, and a blush came to the mech's face.

The mismatched eyes flew open, staring out the craggy cave entrance where the shuttle had alighted. The pointed ears had perked up at the snippets of conversation but the eyes remained closed until Rika had boarded the ship. A thin finger approached the tapered chin to stroke at it thoughtfully.

"Things certainly have gotten a bit more interesting," the lips remarked to the Corellian pilot standing a few meters away as the eyes alighted upon the mechanic and the Exile. "And I'm not even talking about the ship or the mysterious person from said shuttle."

Kimber wasn't quite awake yet, but things were becoming clearer by the second. "Indeed," she replied pensively to Lane as she, too, watched the interaction between her captain, the Jedi Exile, and the mysterious no-name mechanic she had dubbed 'Spanner'. "Things are getting curiouser and curiouser." She frowned slightly. "That's a word, right? Curiouser?" She shook her head dismissively. "Nevermind. We better join Rika. Looks like we're in for a little ride. Strange though...." She scratched at the back of her ear. "I would have thought a person as notorious as Katya Skyhawk would have sent a newer shuttle model than that one." She eyed the ship over. "I think my grandfather owned one of these."

Nevertheless, she took a step forward to follow Rika aboard the shuttle. "Lane, you coming?" she asked, looking over her shoulder at him. Her. Whatever. She still couldn't tell what sex Lane was.

Long, lithe legs untangled themselves from the sitting position they were in and alighted on the ground quietly. Stalking up next to Kimber, Lane studied the shuttle with knowledgeable eyes. "'Tis an older design, yes," the lips agreed. "But fitting, since Katya is smart enough not to call attention to herself." The lips pursed as the legs began walking towards the shuttle. "In her line of work, it pays to be inconspicuous until you want to be noticed."

The shuttle landed...and in Tysyacha's opinion, all hell broke loose.

The thing was, nothing much happened. A rickety landing pad, bad smells, a hazy blanket of pollution smothering everything. Not much different from Nar Shaddaa, but this particular location had a sharply-sweet suffusion of Dark Side energy within it. Combined with the mixed scents of urine, droppings from stray animals and pets, stale liquor, and used rolls of spice-smoke paper, it woke Tysyacha up in a gigantic hurry.

She ignited her twin sabers. "Where's the bad? Where's the bad?!" she cried, whirling around in self-defense, looking for muggers, assassins, or any other shady characters.

"The bad is everywhere, Exile," a voice called over an intercom system. Speakers were placed around the pad. "There on the landing pad, here where I sit, this entire rock is saturated with 'bad'. You even bring 'bad' with you, Exile." A door nearby opened, seeming almost threatening as a deep red light spilled out. From inside, a voice called, "Welcome to the Lair."

"Center yourself, Tysyacha," Rika said calmly. "We have arrived. Fear is useless to you now. Cast it off."

"Pointless words, Ariana," the voice went on, and now, the red light died away, replaced by bright white lights. A feminine figure came to stand in the doorway. "Fear may be a choice, but there are all too few beings who have learned to change it."

"What do you want, Nanda?" Rika asked warily. Suddenly, she looked and sounded as though she'd aged ten years.

"I want you and your friends to enter," the woman identified as 'Nanda' answered. "Then, we will speak."

With this final statement, the members of the crew glanced at each other, as if wondering who would enter first - all eyes except for his. His blue gaze was locked on the woman who stood just to the side of the doorway.

Without a word, he left the Exile's side. He could feel the other's eyes on him as he strode toward the door, seemingly without fear - and without a weapon. He paused just beside the woman, his voice dropping so that only she could hear. Even as he spoke, he did not look at her.

"We shall enter, but don't try anything. You know not who you are dealing with."

"I want you and your friends to enter," the woman identified as 'Nanda' answered. "Then, we will speak."

As the mechanic stepped forward to whisper something to Nanda, Kimber nudged Lane with her elbow. "Ok, I'm confused," she said in a voice just above a whisper. "I thought we were here to see Katya Skyhawk, not this 'Namba' person." She lowered her voice even further. "And since when did Rika become Ariana?" Her head shuddered with a combination of disbelief and frustration. "Oh, nevermind. Let's just get this meeting over with."

She started forward, following the mechanic. Despite the squalid conditions of the place, Kimber wasn't too bothered by it. She had seen worse. "Hope they have something to eat in this place that isn't too disgusting or hallucinogenic," she said, mostly to herself. "I'm starving...."

"I know a great deal more than you might imagine," Nanda replied in the same tone to the mechanic. When everyone had passed her, she turned, closed the door, and moved back into the room.

The lights dimmed to make the room a little more pleasantly lighted instead of the blinding light it had been.

"Now, first thing's first," Nanda said. "I have some... unfinished business with your friend 'Rika'. Come along, then. Step forward."

"Whatever happens, you must not interfere," Rika said softly. She moved forward to face Nanda. Immediately, ray shields surrounded the two of them.

"Whatever happens, you cannot interfere," Nanda mocked loudly. She drew a blood-red lightsaber from some hidden pocket in her pants. Rika countered with her own lightsaber, a dazzling green blade. Slowly, the two women circled one another.

"What is it you want, Katya?" Rika asked slowly. Nanda laughed.

"So are we using pseudonyms now, 'Rika'?" she inquired. "Come now, I thought we were past that."

"Forget it, Katya," Rika snapped. "And forget this test of my abilities as well..." She tossed her saber lightly aside and slammed both hands forward. 'Katya' was lifted off her feet with a startled shriek and propelled backward into the ray shield behind her. Visibly stunned, she dropped to her knees.

"I give," she gasped. The ray shield was deactivated and Rika moved to help Katya to her feet. Neither woman spoke as they crossed the room to join the others.

The Exile was confused beyond confused. Certainly, she had seen the old "alias becomes discovered/dark past revealed/angst and more angst" trick with Atton Rand, the former pilot of the Ebon Hawk and her former partner. However, this was pushing her powers of forgiveness and integration, not to mention her tolerance for secrets, too far. She wanted to get to the bottom of this before the Sith attacked.

"Tell me," she said to Rika, "is your real name Rika Saben or Arianna--something?"

"It is Arianna," the powerful Jedi replied, "but I am no longer bound to that identity. I would prefer it if you would call me Rika, the name I long to live up to in full."

"Fair enough." She gestured to Katya. "And this is illustrious Katya Skyhawk, alias 'Nanda'?"

"Excuse me," said a female voice like a vibrodagger kept in a refrigeration compartment, "but I am not a 'this'. I am a 'me', and you would do well to listen to me before something unpleasant happens to you and your crew. Yes, I am Katya Skyhawk, and who are the four who are traveling with you? Aside from Arianna--I mean 'Rika'." A subtle sneer, cunning in its intensity.

"First of all, I am Tysyacha Odnova," the Exile replied, her voice just as cold and haughty as Katya's had been. "The pilot of the ship in which we travel, the Ebon Hawk, is Ms. Kimber Quitaan, and I daresay I wish she would have flown the shuttle in which we arrived. I trust her implicitly with my life. We have a skilled male mechanic, who prefers to remain anonymous, and a sentient called Lane, whom I suspect is from another planet or world."

Katya laughed softly. "A motley crew of ragged spacefarers deigns to see me. Very well. What is it you wish, Tysyacha Odnova? If your request is not only reasonable, but will be of benefit to me and my organization to help you accomplish, then I shall do so. If not, I don't see how I can let you and your crew leave this lair alive without a very high price being extracted." A wink.

"We search for a powerful Jedi," began Tysyacha, "formerly known as Darth Revan. He has vanished beyond the Outer Rim, into the Unknown Regions, and we need his help if we are to ward off this silent threat that waits to claim the galaxy. I suspect that Revan knows not only where the True Sith might be located, but also their nature and identity. Without Revan, I can feel through the Force that none of us will last a second against the True Sith, whether or not we are sensitive to the Force itself. Do you know, or at least have a theory, of where he could be? Even a lead to his aides will do."

More dark chuckles, emanating from the deepest part of Katya's throat. "Do not underestimate me. Such information I have, but the price is high beyond your highest expectations. The irtysch pendant you wear is a start."

"Not so fast." Tysyacha stood her ground. "Dangle the bait; I might bite."

Motley? Kimber's eyes narrowed menacingly as she listened to Katya Skyhawk banter words with Tysy.

"Do not underestimate me. Such information I have, but the price is high beyond your highest expectations. The irtysch pendant you wear is a start."

"Not so fast." Tysyacha stood her ground. "Dangle the bait; I might bite."

"Oh, great...." Kimber sighed, then gave Lane, who was standing beside her, a sideways glance. "She's one of those 'barter for favours' type of people, isn't she?" she said quietly to him, the question more of a statement. "It's so much easier when the price is in cash. At least then you know exactly how 'expensive' something really is. With favours...." She shrugged. "It's very hard to tell if you're getting a fair deal or not."

She hoped that Tysy was wise when it came to dealing in favours. Rika, and even the mechanic, seemed wise enough in that matter, but would Tysy listen to their counsel? Either way, Kimber was committed enough to go along with whatever decision her captain Tysy made. She made a promise to serve and she would see it through.

She just hoped that whatever 'deal' Tysy made with Katya didn't involve anything too humiliating for the crew.

Ok, don't mean to double post, but since there is no OOC thread for this one...

Tysy, are we continuing this without Grace (as I believe she has decided to take a break from the forums for a while)?

(OOC: Carry on, because I don't want this thread to die just yet. I wonder where ForceFight and Rogue and Jae are? :))

((I'm so sorry I kinda left this thread in a pickle... I'll get you out now ;) ))


Rika lost patience. "Listen, you scum-ridden, poor excuse for a sentient," she snarled, drawing her lightsaber and slamming 'Katya' against a wall. "We're here for information. We're not leaving without it."

"Damn you and your impatience," Katya gasped. "Leave!"

"Or what?" Rika laughed. Automated defenses kicked in and Katya slipped from Rika's grasp and fled. With a scream of frustration, Rika slammed her hands together and a pulse of energy spread outward from her. The automated defenses were destroyed.

"Katya has fled this outpost," Rika said, turning to her companions. "It is my duty to follow her. Raid this location for whatever information you can find. I am sorry I could not be of further service to you."

She turned to leave, but then she paused as if she'd thought of something else. "Should I fail, you are the only ones who could potentially bring down Katya's crime ring. As that is the case, I'll tell you everything you need to know.

"Katya Skyhawk is not her real name. Her name is Nanda Bai. She was my sister. Then, she tried to kill me and Ariana Bai became Rika Saben. Then, she staged her own death and became a galactic menace. Her outposts are scattered throughout the galaxy, but I have my own means of discovering them."

She handed a datapad to Tysyacha. "These are the ones I know of and having the Republic raid them would destroy a lot of Nanda's escaping room."

For just a second, she took the datapad back and recorded a message. "There," she said, looking back to Tysyacha and giving the datapad back to her. "If that message plays, send this datapad to the Republic."

She bowed. "It's been all too short a pleasure, but Nanda is my responsibility now. May the Force be with you."

Then, she was gone.

He stood by with gritted teeth as he watched the scene unfold before him, his hands in his pockets. The argument between the women, Rika's explosion of Force power...though the automated turrets and other defenses errupted in flurries of sparks, he stood by without a flinch. The wave passed him with only a slight rippling of his hair.

He stepped forward, his mouth open to say something to Rika...but just as he was about to speak, she took off. He took a few steps after her before something - some sense in the back of his head - made him stop. This was something for Rika to do. He closed his mouth again, his arm falling back to his side, and turned to Tysyacha with grim eyes.

Background Song: Linkin Park's "Faint"

Tysyacha couldn't believe it. According to Traya, Rika Saben would become her future Master and trainer. Now it seemed that Rika was trailing 'Katya', who had the double misfortune of being a wanted criminal and possibly the only person who knew where Revan might have gone. Now both women had vanished, and the Exile felt betrayed.

"Come," she said softly as she turned to the mechanic, her voice a weak mumble. "I think we should do what Rika says and search for any information about the Jedi we're trying to look for. I'm sorry, but trying to go after a whole crime ring is just not worth it at this point if it's not related to the whereabouts of Revan or the True Sith. Jedi help people, it's true, but in this case we'd be better off leaving 'Katya's' circle to other"--she almost said lesser--"galactic authorities. We're not the only heroes in this galaxy, and we could wind up dead trying to be the biggest ones of all. So, keep an eye out for suspicious datapads and holograms." Holocrons? Perhaps.

Lane, Kimber, the Exile, and the mechanic searched 'Katya Skyhawk's' eerie Lair for anything out of place, unusual, extraordinary, or simply wrong. For a while, this task proved as useless as digging through bantha droppings with one's hands to find a swallowed needle, but eventually Tysyacha came upon a cold, innocuous metal cube. She held it in her hands, feeling an odd sense of familiarity with it, and also a sense of fear. Not wanting to disturb the others too badly, or endanger them if it was a trap, she moved off to the side of the hideout and squeezed the cube. It slowly opened.

"There are dark places within the galaxy, centers of knowledge where few dare to tread," began an aged female voice that Tysyacha knew all too well. "I was once the historian of the Jedi, and always there were more questions. More questions than there were answers, and more platitudes than concrete truths. I had to know more. It was a hunger within me, just as war was a hunger within Darth Nihilus, and the lack of the Force was a void within--you. I learned things about the Force that none of the Jedi Masters had ever told me, and of a place that put the Dark Side to shame.

"It is called Cocyta, a world of nothing but light. There is no darkness there, and that is what makes it so terrifying to me. It's a hidden planet, supposedly formed out of pure palladium, its core powerful and astronomically rare. It lies between twin suns, yet its axis was not always tilted into the position it is now. Someone is there, a servant Revan left behind who was unwilling to settle for second place or second love in his heart. She is the one who has corrupted the natural order of this world and made it her own. Left unchecked, she will destroy the darkness, but since there is darkness in every sentient being, the galaxy shall die when all the 'evildoers' shall.

"You know where Cocyta is, Exile. In your heart of hearts, you were headed for it as soon as you entered the galactic mists outside of Malachor V. Go there, and find what you seek. Perhaps Revan is there, perhaps not, but it is time to destroy this false Jedi before she brings the Order as it stands to its logical and fatal conclusion. You have been betrayed again, Tysyacha Dvukh, by the very exiled Jedi who could have helped you find this sooner. And the very sly one who hides whom he is, out of love for 'the greater good' instead of you. However, do not blame them. Blame her, the Light of the Galaxy, the true threat. Take up my mantle, Tysyacha, and live.

"You are the Dark Lady of the True Sith, for the True Sith are all who do not yield to her flawless and freedomless vision. Leave now, Darth Traya, and take me with you.

"Go alone. There is a courier vessel the fool 'Katya' left behind in the cave at the back of this Lair. If you take your crew with you, they will die, for who can stand against the Light save the death of the Force itself, the second follower of Potentium?"

The Exile wrapped the holocron in her palm, tears streaming down her cheeks. Traya could very well be leading her into a trap, but Traya was also the one who had taught her to find the Force--and herself--after ten years of directionless wandering and an utter lack of hope. No one else could feel the Force in her crew, and yet she sent out a plaintive message from the depths of her soul: Farewell. I am going to Cocyta, the world of no pain and no darkness. No choices, either, and no freedom, too. Don't ask me how I know this or how I will find my way. I will, and I will find Revan, too.

She strode toward Katya's vessel and climbed in, launching into the great dark void...

He listened to the words echoing through the Force, recognizing the touch of her mind all too well. At first, he was only slightly worried - surely she wouldn't try to leave alone to undertake what lies ahead - but then he heard engines fire up. Whipping around, his eyes flashed as they locked on the open door into the hangar, the engines glowing a merciless white as the ship prepared to take off.

A curse under his breath, and immediately he was running towards the ship. She was starting the launch sequence now - there was no doubt of it...and there was nothing he could do to stop her now that she was. Gritting his teeth and fighting the anger that threatened to overtake him, he reached into a pouch at his side and pulled out a small, round device. Activating it so that the little red light in the center blinked at a calm, rhythmic pace, he chucked it with all his might at the ship. He saw it land, the light stopped blinking and glared steadily red. It was attached.

Hands now in pockets as he stood at the threshold of the door, he watched the ship take off with gritted teeth. It proppelled out of the hangar with a great whoosh of air...and was gone. Shaking his head, he turned back into the room to the others. You are not alone, Tysyacha Dvukh.

"The Exile's gone." he announced as he came upon the others, "She's just left. I know where, and I'm almost positive I know why." Coming to stand before the rest of the crew with a new, fierce light in his eyes, his gaze flicked from one member to another. "We must hurry. She'll need our help."

Kimber sat in the pilot's chair of the Ebon Hawk, feet up and resting on the corner of one of the control panels while she filed her nails. The droid T3 was behind her, apparently fiddling with the Galaxy Map and navicomputer.

"I'm telling you, it's not going to be in there," Kimber said to the droid without looking up.

The small astro-droid bleeped and whirred.

"Whatever," the pilot said dismissively. "But you won't find it in there no matter how hard you look. You'll just have to let Lane set the course. He's the navigator, after all." An irritated buzz came from the droid. "Yeah? Well, I don't care what sort of advanced logic circuits you have. Cocyta isn't going to be in there."

The droid let out a series of bleeps that told Kimber that it was dissatisfied with her comment, but Kimber didn't seem to care. Finally, after a moment, she clicked a button on the com panel. "Hey, Lane? Spanner? Are you finished messing around with the engines already so we can get going and find the Cap'n? I'm running out of nails to file and getting bored. And," she added, "this droid is driving me up the kriffin' wall."

Tysyacha was alone. The stars seemed to have gone out, as if to create a balance between the sky that lay behind them and the planet-beacon that lay ahead. If there was no darkness on Cocyta, then surely the Force must have orchestrated this nearly purposeful lack of light here. Silence surrounded her, and the instruments of the control panels on the courier's vessel she piloted were her only links to so-called "civilization". As soon as I get home, thought the Exile, meaning if I ever do get home, then I'm either going to live on perpetually-dark Nar Shaddaa or dwell on Dantooine and turn on all the lights in Khoonda and the Jedi Enclave. Even when I sleep. Tysy closed her eyes and felt a nearby presence. The cube glowed.

"Tysyacha," said the voice of Darth Traya once the Exile had squeezed the holocron. "You are on the right path, and this gladdens me. I have returned to the netherworld of the Force I hated, and for me there could be no greater punishment. However, I now see it as a blessing, for without the Force, I could not guide you more, nor could you sense me now, even through this holocron. It would simply be a cold metal cube.

"See what lies before you? Darkness. Nothing but emptiness, the great void. You may think that there's no connection between this null expanse and Cocyta, but think again. They are not simply opposites of each other which exist as counterbalances. The stars have reacted to the corruption of Bastila Shan, and they are defying her Order. This void is, ironically, what the galaxy will be if she is allowed to do what she means to do. She means to fill the galaxy, and instead she will empty it. What a jest!"

"Kreia?" asked Tysyacha. "What must I do now?" I mean, to stop her...?

"What is your name, Exile?" asked Darth Traya. "The name that you bear currently."

"Tysyacha Odnova. Very fitting, since I'm alone and will be when I confront Bastila."

"If anyone claims you as Dvukh, besides me, obey them completely. They are the ones who know your true history and your true name, and do not condemn you for it. Know this, Exile: I sent you here alone, to Cocyta, because I am not coldly selfish and would not have you send your allies to suicide. However, I also sent you here alone because as I said, there is a hunger within you that has not yet been sated. You are the one that has wounded the Force, the unifier of this galaxy. You and you alone can defeat her, but you might need some friends, if they can find you, to weaken her enough.

"Let me rest, Exile. Continue on your journey, but sleep. The Force shall guide you."

He had just strode into the cockpit as she finished her transmission, taking something off his wrist and tossing it onto the top of the console. He looked from the navcharts, to the astromech, to the thick bracelet he had just pulled off, and then finally, to the pilot.

"I was able to get a trace on her ship before she took off." he said, falling into the co-pilot's chair. His eyes, ever somber, seemed far more distant than usual. He had so much on his mind... "If you can sync the ship's nav with the coordinates that are appearing on that tracer," he glanced at the bracelet again, "We should be able to catch up with her. She's only been traveling - what - five, maybe ten minutes longer than us?"

As Kimber took her feet down and sat in the pilot's chair properly, she snorted and shook her head with disbelief. "What is it with guys and time?" she said, as she picked up the bracelet and began to do the adjustments to the navigation co-ordinates. "You and Lane have been back there for almost a half and hour."

She tossed the bracelet back. "Not that it matters much. I mean, how much trouble can she get into in a half and hour?"

Kimber began to power up the ship. "Ok, everyone take your seats," she said over the intercom. "We're venturing into the black!"

As the ship lifted off and headed up into the atmosphere, Kimber glanced over at the mechanic sitting in the co-pilot's chair. "You're not really a mechanic, are you?" she said, more as a statement than a question. "Which is fine," she added, "but just don't tell me how to fly. Back-seat drivers are a real pet peeve of mine."

The hyperdrive indicator came on. Kimber pushed forward the throttle. "Here we go...."

The bracelet landed in his lap, and he picked it up and quickly began to strap it back onto the wrist of his human arm before pulling his glove back on. A wry smile came to his lips. If only she knew...

He didn't answer her question, his smile becoming a smirk as he watched her begin to guide the throttle forward. Resting the ankle of one foot across his opposite knee, he rested his unshaven jaw against his gloved fist. "Careful with that throttle - the hyperdrive's really very testy." As she turned to glare at him, he simply tossed her a playful smile before turning his sapphire blue eyes towards the viewscreen again.

Tysyacha was the Jedi Exile - she had always, always, always known how to get herself into trouble, even if she wasn't actually looking for it - and right now, frankly, she was. Flying right into the supposed hide out of whatever enemy they were fighting by herself on an uncharted planet?

Sounds like looking for trouble to me. he thought wryly to himself, his jaw set perfectly straight and his body stiffening slightly. If she got hurt...

HK-47 was half-confused, half-annoyed, and one hundred percent combat ready. "Where is my Master?" he snapped, and then, "Thinly-Veiled Threat: If we do not find her within the standard timeframe of five minutes, I shall have to start eliminating certain meatbags aboard this vessel. I believe I shall start with that useless mechanic. After all, the recent deserter Rika Saben was the one who repaired me so efficiently when we launched." He shouldered his Optimized Molten Cannon with stalwart resolve.

Using his keen droid sensors, HK located the mechanic in the co-pilot's chair. "Hmm. It seems that the mechanic meatbag is sitting next to the ship's current pilot, whom I daresay is a sight better than that greasy-haired At-ton Rand. I shall attempt to give him one last chance to say a few final words before I execute the Dvukh Ultimatum."

With that decision planted firmly in his electronic brain, the assassin droid approached the Ebon Hawk's co-pilot chair. "Definitive Statement: Hello, meatbag mechanic. Where is my Master? I suspect that you, or else one of the more skilled and cunning organics aboard this ship, either killed or abandoned her in the Lair. Such is my theory. I shall now execute the Dvukh Ultimatum after the span of twenty seconds. Either tell me where my Master is, or I shall have to terminate you as a potential hostility."

He didn't even flinch as he heard the assassin droid's electronic voice, or heard the gears in his arm whir as he lowered a undoubtedly large weapon at the back of his head.

"Your master is fine, HK." he answered, his voice so vacant of emotion he sounded almost...bored. "Something...happened. I think she found something in that 'lair', as you called it, that made her think she could and should venture off alone." he put a finger to his lips, his mind on a completely different subject from what his lips were articulating. "We have a tracker on her ship, however. We should catch up to her soon enough."

HK-47 coughed as only a droid could. "Ahem. Disappointed Musing: That was singularly unsatisfying. I thought you would have given me more of a challenge, meatbag. No matter. The Dvukh Ultimatum shall still be put into place, but its prime objective has been changed in light of our current circumstances. Instead of the termination of suspicious passengers aboard this vessel--namely all of them--the Dvukh Ultimatum shall consist of one solitary goal: finding my Master and bringing her back to this ship, by force if necessary. Now standing down."

T3-M4 beeped and wheedled happily, and Kimber Quitaan, in the pilot's chair, rolled her eyes. "Glad you changed your mind, assassin droid," she quipped.

"Warning: If you attempt to register a disrespectful expression on your face whenever I speak to you again, then I shall be forced to return the Dvukh Ultimatum to its previous objective. I wield an optimal amount of firepower."

T3 made a quiet sound resembling a snicker behind HK's back and rolled away.

Part Three: Reckoning of the True Sith

COCYTA

"What is the true threat engulfing this galaxy, whether one be Jedi or Sith?"

"Darkness!"

"And what is darkness, besides the soulless color of empty space--the Void?"

"Evil!"

"What is the root of all evil? Selfishness? The love of credits? Bloodlust? Passion? Many sentients believe one or more of these conditions to be evil's source, but these are actually symptoms of a far greater sickness. None of you have discovered it yet, but I am about to reveal it to you. Are you prepared to learn such a great truth? It is not easily absorbed, nor easily reconciled." The Echani maiden gazed at her audience warmly--a hundred neat rows of ten people each, their heads spherical, shining, and sheared.

"Yes!" The roar was deafening, coming from the throng of a thousand.

"Very well. I, Brianna, have learned this truth, but only at a great price. My Master, Bastila Shan, has opened my mind to the Force and closed the very doorway to darkness. She has given me a gift--the gift of pure obedience. I no longer face the desire to choose to do wrong, to surrender to evil.

"You see, my Master has, through the Force, removed what the ancients called 'free will' from my soul and mind. She has taken my brain, once a soft hunk of meat, and turned it into something focused, something disciplined and beautiful. Not even my lifelong Echani training could have done this. What is this so-called 'free will', except choosing to do right or wrong? To surrender to the Light or to the Dark Side, or even not to make a choice? If one has free will, one can do evil, and so we must remove that option. We must create a world where there is no longer any darkness, any wrongdoing."

Silence from the crowd, and then one meek voice rose: "How, Handmaiden?"

"We must take our ships, fueled by the palladium of this planet's core, and venture to all the planets of this galaxy in peace, promising them infallible happiness and, more importantly, infallible purity. If they do not choose to surrender their free will to the Force, then we must force them to do so for their own good. If they refuse even after being brought to full knowledge and understanding of our tenets, we must consider them part of the True Sith."

A low, ominous rumbling from the crowd, a thunderstorm of voices being born.

"I know it is harsh, but so is life, and the True Sith must be eradicated. This is the will of the Light of the Galaxy, my Master, and she knows what is good for the future of this universe in which we live. Rise, my children, and go."

The thousand sentients stood as one and wordlessly bowed and departed.

************************************************** *******

"Just as sleep is fuel for the body, Exile, the purified liquid fossil resources upon Malpenulte are fuel for the Ebon Hawk. I suggest you dock there and feed your ship, for it shall be your last chance to do so before you reach Cocyta. Light-years span the distance between the two planets, and yet they are as intimately connected as you and...Revan, I dare say. Can you guess what the name of this second-to-final world before Cocyta means?"

"Mal--penulte," replied Tysyacha slowly to the holocron of Darth Traya. "Second to last, as you said, but something tells me that reaching this world will not be a good thing. At least not pleasant, as the 'Mal' prefix states."

"Very good. Some insightful sentients also translate it as 'bad penalty' or 'bad punishment', though their interpretation of Malpenulte's meaning is not fully accurate. It is the first world touched by Bastila Shan and her influence, yet it is the penultimate world before Cocyta, where she and her servants dwell."

"How ironic." A shiver tingled in Tysyacha's spine. "Kreia? Traya? Tell me..."

"This is hard for you, I know," replied the Sith Lord's voice through the metal holocron, "but facing truth is much better than either denying it or never knowing. The simple fact of the matter is that Bastila is working backwards. Instead of launching her myriad of newly-manufactured ships toward the farthest corners of the galaxy, she has instead chosen to touch the worlds closest to her first. Most Sith Lords, Bastila included, would do the opposite."

"And backwards is what the galaxy will be if she has her way," said the Exile.

"Not only backwards, but gone. You see, she is taking the galaxy back toward a time when there was no time, only empty space and empty eons. Her plans are to recreate the galaxy from the start, with nothing remaining save the fragments of asteroids she intends to use to 'give birth' to new planets. She will be like an ancient deity, in the literal sense instead of the metaphorical. The Force will be nothing but her instrument if she succeeds."

"Then how do we defeat her, short of killing her? It's impossible!" Tysy cried.

"Malpenulte will show you. It will also show you some other truths about this galaxy, and what happens when one subscribes to a creed that promotes something called 'justice', but ends in destroying the very subscriber--you."

Tysyacha set a course for the new planet, using nothing but the Force.