Phalomir stirred, the effects of the Claw still ringing in his mind. He reached a hand to his forehead to help steady himself, and as he scratched at the base of a horn he slowly realized that in the state of consciousness he was in, he shouldn’t be able to scratch his horn.

“What strangeness has happened here?” he asked himself.

He looked down at his hand. It appeared solid, yet he knew that he had not re-entered his body. Yet he certainly seemed to be in some sort of solid form, for he could not see the rocks through his hand…

Rocks?

Phalomir slowly moved his eyes upward. He was sitting on a flat, rocky ground at the top of a small hill. Around him were many rocks of varying sizes, scattered throughout the surrounding ground. The sky was dark, yet not quite a nighttime sky. No stars shown in the night, no moons, no sun… no shadows. Yet a light was cast from somewhere. He glanced about the hillside, then was awed by the vast stretches of rocks and hills stretching out in all directions, reaching across the countryside until the hills gave way to mountains in the distance. Further away, volcanoes spewed out red smoke and fire, strange silhouettes against the bizarre, liquid sky.

Phalomir blinked, his eyes catching movement all across the horizon. He tried to focus but had much difficulty in narrowing his vision. It was if the hills themselves moved, then he realized that he was watching hordes of… something… moving along the ground in many directions in the distance.

Where was he? What had happened to Jharmeen? Had she indeed used the Claw as he suspected? But why, what had possessed her to do….

Possessed!

Sudden realization shown upon him, is eyes growing wider with every passing second. He sat back with his hands upon the ground, and he noticed the cold, odd texture of the dirt… or whatever substance this was. It was all at once rubbery, spongy, and liquid, yet still remained solid.

He again glanced to the sky. Upon closer examination, he could see it twisting and writhing in a horribly familiar way. Yes, he was in the black river, he had to be. Or at least, he was in the realm to which the black river led.

Entirely way too much of it, in fact.

That is, I think it did.

Khaandon alone really knew how long I sat hunkered where I was, hugging my knees and staring off into, well, into utter strangeness. Yet that strangeness was horrifyingly familiar; well did I remember my last visit here when I had tried to wrench Flac from Roan’s clutching claws. That hadn’t been pretty at all, and at least I had someone at my back who had managed to get me out.

But now…

I jerked a little as stark realization slammed into me. I was in this alone. Who was there to come help me? Rhua? I had serious doubts about him poking in for a fourth quarter rescue. While the scientist had proven stalwart enough against more common physical foes, I read the message his body had been screaming out when we first peeped over the rim of that canyon and looked down into the hellish blackness I now found myself in.

I shook my head again.

Nope, I thought miserably to myself. It just ain’t gonna happen; Galen ol’ kiddo, you might just as well face it.

You’re in this alone.

And so I had just sat there, a huddled lump of despair, lost in my own personal fog while time dripped on all around me. It wasn’t until an insidious, creepy kind of movement coming from… somewhere caught my eye that I raised myself from my gloom long enough to take another quick gander around myself.

Off in the distance there seemed to be a softly whispered movement, like a sand-crab sidling along an ocean shore. I squinted, strained, and stood up.

Let me amend that thought: like a million sand-crabs sidling along an ocean shore…

Rushing memory bore down upon me, bringing with it topsy-turvy images of scorpion and snake and bipedal imp, of dagger-claw and dripping fang, of a blackness beyond the mere darkness one finds between galaxies highlighted with the most brilliant and meaningful of ruby reds…

Oh no. Oh dear Khaandon, no…

Where were those thing going, those demons from hell? For certainly that’s where I was, once again: hell; I’m such a lucky duck about these things. And if that were the case, I'm so lucky, most certainly they would of course be coming my way.

I jerked my head at my own ridiculous non sequiteur. No time for that; time to… go.

Which I did. As rapidly as possible. Across the weird non-ground beneath my feet, past strange non-rock and toward a distant red glow just over the horizon. Every so often I took a nanosecond or two to glance over my shoulder; good.

No one on my heels, at least not yet. I might have time to get away.

To where, Galen? Where the hell are you going to run?

Exactly… I answered myself as I just kept at it, the strange timelessness of the place letting me travel on and on without really knowing how far I had traveled at all, or how long it had taken me to get there. Such concepts really have no meaning, I guess, in situations such as these.

Thus it was that I came upon a low rocky kind of ridge, but without slowing down one whit just continued on. Now both hands and feet were working in synchronization as I kept moving up and up, nothing other in my mind but a vague notion of how and when I would alter my body position smoothly enough to descend the other side while not losing any momentum. I almost fell on top of him, I was scrabbling upward so fast.

Something not quite stone slid downward as I screeched to a halt, there on the apex of that little ridge. Panting, I just stood there a fraction of a second, while he turned the most brilliantly green eyes I have ever seen upon me.

I crouched, suddenly aware that I had no weapon. I reached for a non-rock then, but caught myself. Truly, I didn’t know if that hesitation was to offer myself as a possible friend in this horrible place, or if it was because the thought of that weird material actually sitting in the bare-skinned palm of my hand just gave me the heebies.

Recognition slammed into him. Yes, this was Galen, Jharmeen’s sister. But how, here? Wherever here was… And which Galen? For if this was still the same timeline he had found himself thrown into then she would not know who he was, as was apparent by her question.

“I am Phalomir, of the Sith,” he said, a smile forming. “And by the gods, please tell me you are truly Galen Jhin'Dar or I shall be forced to smash my head upon the rocks below to escape this madness.”

That is to say, what was waiting.

So I just tensed instead, feeling ready to explode at the slightest provocation, all the while wondering just who the hell this guy was and how the hell he knew my name.

Fear battled distrust, and a sudden thought struck home; could he be a plant sent here by Roan to—

To—

Now, there was provocation for you. Without thinking, I leapt to my feet, turned, and began scrabbling back down the slope I had just managed to top, rising panic lending my descent added impetus as I slipped and slid, half-falling, aiming for the relatively flatter ground below where I could just take off and run.

Demons be damned anyway; I just couldn’t go through that again. I just couldn’t.

But this was different. Phalomir saw something in her eyes before she turned, something that reminded him of pure… terror. This was not the Galen he knew, yet he felt this was the Galen he should be looking for.

“Do not fear,” he called out. “I travel with those who are trying to help you! Lancaster, Stanza, and – Shayla!” He thought of mentioning Jharmeen, but refrained at the moment, recalling the information she had shared about her relationship with Galen. After all, he was trying to stop her from running away, not add speed to her feet.

“Please, I have much to tell you…and to ask.”

A chill ran unexpectedly though him, and an instant feeling of despair tried to worm its way into his mind. Surprised by the sudden shakiness in his voice and the words it conveyed, he called out.

“Do not leave me alone here.”

Oh all right, maybe not quite in that order. As a matter of fact, I was so blinded by sheer terror that I really didn’t pay any attention to the fact that I had hit flatter ground. The abrupt change in slope was jarring to say the least, and the loose non-scree laying about was in fact why my feet went skidding out from under me to begin with.

So there I was, forced out of “fight-or-flight” by gravity; it was only then that the sheer gravity of the situation truly slammed home, right about the same time that this guy’s words came into my ears.

He knew Jasyn? And Matt?? And—

And.

Me.

Putting my hands behind myself, I craned my head up and back. There he was, standing up there, something of a woebegone expression on his fearsome face.

At least I think it was.

I relaxed just a smidgeon. Drew in a couple of deep breaths. Raked the weird stuff beneath my fingers in preparation of climbing to my feet, opened my mouth…

And stopped, a million tiny goose feet beginning to march up and down my spine.

“Wha-?” I half-whispered, jerking my head this way and that as the step increased in tempo.

There. In the distance; no wait. Not distant at all, not at all….

They were coming, razored tails poised to deliver venomous blows, red eyes, drooling fangs and all.

They were coming.

Fast.

I turned my head back to the Sith, my mouth an open square of silent entreaty, and just sat there, quite unable to get up.

“Imps,” he said, not pausing to wonder how he knew that.

He looked back to Galen, who remained frozen in place. He scowled and started down the slope, quickly reaching the bottom. He extended a hand and held it out before her.

I stared at the towering Sith a fraction of a second longer as my last feeble defenses tried to stay my hand.

It could be a ruse, you know, just to get-

But that was utterly ridiculous. If this was all a ruse to get me to go with this guy, horns be damned, just so that I would finally be… be-

Well. It was too elaborate, too convoluted, too...

Ridiculous. After all, why all this when the demons could quite easily kill me, end of the story?

Battling to reduce my terror to a more manageable fear, I gulped, stuck out my hand, let his large and warm one envelop it, and scrabbled to my feet, staring up into his green eyes all the while.

“Well,” I mustered, trying to remember what he said his name was. Phal-something? No matter; I'd catch it later.

“It looks like I have no choice but to trust you. I’d really love to know just how the hell you know who I am, but hey, you know. Priorities, right?

“Umm-“ I trailed with yet another quick over-the-shoulder glance. The writhing, flailing, drooling and terrifyingly silent horde seemed to have covered an impossible distance in only a few seconds; Roon’s Treasure, but this place had some weirdness to it when it came to time.

“Any ideas how to avoid being turned into demon chow?”

I nodded behind myself, then took an involuntary step closer to my unexpected and Khaandon-please-make-it-be-so savior.

“If I knew that my magick would work here, I may be able to shield us for a while. But I am not even sure where here is, or if my powers came with me. Even so, I am not that strong. Not to hold back an entire horde of imps.”

Again that word. He sighed, confused, yet allowed grim determination to enter his thoughts.

“Well, I might as well try to buy us time to run, maybe I can hold back the first few for a moment… get ready to bolt for that rocky area.”

He drew in a deep breath and called upon his Sith magick. A tremor passed through his middle and shot up through his chest. His eyes widened.

This is very different he thought, as the silent blast of translucent energy surged from his palms and struck the first wave of the advancing creatures, splintering spiny exoskeletons and splattering gore into the air. The force thrust through row after row, clearing a wide path through the parade of nightmarish beings until Phalomir gasped and let the power ebb.

Phalomir stared in shock at the path of destruction, the air still alive with the falling of mangled body parts. The remaining creatures stopped and stared in turn at Phalomir. Then, almost in unison, the nearest monstrosities turned and fell upon the hapless victims of the Sith’s power, devouring what was left.

Phalomir grimaced and turned to Galen. His hands tingled with electricity. He shook his hands, trying to clear away the electrical feeling, and glanced back at the strange, grotesque scene. He felt a strange sensation of… pride.

“That was unexpected,” he croaked. “But I suggest we take advantage of the break and make a hasty exit now.”

My gaze dropped to his hands, then returned to his face.

“Umm—yeah,” I finally managed, letting a shaky grin cross my face.

“Very well,” he said. “Try to keep up.” He winked and took off in a full sprint towards the rocky outcroppings next to a hill rising in the near distance.

His long strides carried him the distance in a short time, but to his surprise Galen was not far behind. He turned when he reached the rocks and was nearly elated when he saw the opening to a small cave hidden behind them. He dashed quickly inside, allowing a small bit of magick light to shine from his hand and verify that the cave was empty. Galen came panting through the opening, and he immediately threw a magickal barrier across the opening.

“There,” he said, catching his breath. “That will keep out any wandering creatures, and hopefully anything else we don’t want to meet. At least for a while. It will also make the hillside appear to be unbroken, hiding the cave. We should have a little time to talk now.”

He looked at Galen, who was still catching her breath but appeared as if she had a lot to say.

“Let me explain. No, there is not enough time. Let me summarize. I am Phalomir, Dark Lord of the Armorer Clan of the Sith. I am also a sorcerer, as you may have guessed. I was travelling with the people I mentioned in an attempt to find you. Clues led us to the Black Canyon, though you may know it by another name.”

He drew in a deep breath.

“We were travelling in a Sith warship, and fell victim to sabotage. In more ways than one. I was somehow sent here, and the rest you know.”

He looked into her eyes, softening his expression.

“I know your sister Jharmeen. It was she that initiated the search. I understand your fear, she has confessed many things about her past. But believe me, we experienced much together and she has undergone a dramatic change. When I have more time I will tell you all.”

He sighed.

I slumped against the rocky wall behind my back; ok, so it wasn’t quite rock, but I wasn’t about to quibble trivialities at this point—and just stared at him. Without really realizing it I was shaking my head, had been practically from the outset of his dissertation as my own mind sprang into action, reaching into every little nook and cranny of its being, bringing forth image after image after image.

I refocused clearly upon him again, in time to catch his closing, polite queries. So he wanted to know how I got here, ey..?

Which time, buddy?

My mouth opened to reply, but nothing came forth for a moment. Instead, I just wrapped my arms about myself and slid down until I was sitting on the rocky not-quite-a-floor beneath us. There I pondered the last three years of my life, wondering myself where I should begin.

“Like you, I find there is, ahh—much to tell,” I finally started, groping. “But not now.”

Yeah, Galen. Save it for oh, I’d say about a week from now, when we’re going nuts from being trapped in here, starving, dehydrating, and anything but anything would be a welcomed salve.

I jerked my head again, scowling at myself. This wasn’t like me, to keep on lapsing like this; I must be tired or something. Then I looked up into his face, which seemed softer and more trustworthy now, and finally gathered my scattered thoughts.

“I—I’m not quite sure how I got here this ti- er, how I got here,” I opened again. “I was camping with Rhua Ki…”

I trailed again, grimacing to see the puzzled look on Phalomir’s face. Took in a deep breath and tried again.

“Ok, a member of your race, a nasty canasta of a bastard going by the name of Roan took me and—and sent me somewhere. Some cell; I didn’t know where that was but at the time I thought it might have been Kamino. He was always sending somebody or other to Kamino…

“Anyway, I thought it might have been there because these Kaminoan scientists were there, and they took me from my cell, and into the lab, and—and, well I don’t know what they did.”

I paused for breath, surprised to realize this.

I’ll have to ask Rhua about that, I promised myself, then continued.

“Anyway, one day the Kaminoan who was my gaoler came, only he acted, well… different, somehow. It wasn’t too much longer after that that that he freed me, and we managed to leave the lab, and when we came out we were on this desert world, so it couldn’t be Kamino now, could it?”

Another pause. More self-scrutiny. Onward, you ol’ soldier you.

“We traveled a day or so in the desert, then came to the lip of a canyon. Down inside it was… well, this weird black something, like a rip into another dimension or something. I wasn’t quite sure about it, but Rhua – that’s the scientist dude – was petrified. We were staying well away, and were camped for the night, and—and—“

I trailed yet again, my frown dissolving into a grimace of terror as a terribly familiar pair of turquoise eyes came from nowhere to haunt my soul.

“He came,” I whispered, hugging myself even harder. “He came for me again, and I must have panicked I don’t know but I kinda remember sliding and jumping and falling down a slope or something and cutting my hand on a rock and then…

“And then I found myself here.”

I paused for breath, raising my hand in front of my eyes. Lo and behold, just as the surprisingly renewed memory had revealed; dried blood streaked from a wicked looking cut.

Oh but that’s going to leave a scar...

“I know where this is, though. I’ve been here before—“

Before my dwindling courage closed my throat entirely, I went quickly on.

“It’s Hell. And evil lives in it. And there’s a valley here, too; something Sith; the Valley of Kings? No, that’s not it… the Imperial Valley? No, wait.

“It’s the Valley of the Dark Lords. And there’s a lot of power in it, too. I don’t know where it is though, because I don’t know exactly where in this hideous place we are.”

I stopped with that and just looked up into his face, waiting for him to explain things further and make it all better for me.

“He came? Roan? Recently?” he said quietly.

“I find that most disturbing,” he spoke up. “Since I killed him some time ago. We truly are in Hell…”

A little niggling squirmed in back of his mind. “And I must confess, many things in this realm seem somehow… familiar. Such as the Imps, but I cannot explain it. But then, there are many things in my life I cannot explain.”

He looked back to Galen, the decisions he was trying make showing on his face.

“I will tell you things that will seem very strange, but considering where we are perhaps they not seem so strange after all. I am from the future, perhaps as much as 100 years, or as little as 20 or 30, I am afraid I do not know exactly. In my time, I was Dark Lord of the Sorcerers, happiest being in the universe. I had a powerful dominion, a beautiful and loyal wife, and a wonderful young son. It was all ripped away from me, first by an invading race, then by a plot to use me to change history. I lived in another timeline, one where events and people were similar but not quite the same. You see, in my time, you were my sister-in-law.”

He coughed.

“As far as I can tell, I was part of a plot to somehow alter the future invasion. A ‘friend’, Thoran, and his master – who we lovingly call The Master – were the architects of this plot. I was sent back in time and spent 4500 years in a crystal. I was freed, lived inside someone else’s head, and eventually was restored to my own body. Now I have discovered involvement from the old triad, including your friend Roan and Aelvedaar, the current Dark Lord of the Sorcerers, whom I believe to be my great-grandfather….”

He scratched his head and looked up.

Er—would be his sister-in-law.

Maybe…

Oh Jharmeen, what is it with you and these guys? First Aelvedaar, then Lord Recinis, and now this one too?

I pulled back from the direction in which those thoughts were leading, and looked up at Phalomir.

“I suppose I could tell you a tiny bit more, too,” I said slowly, since we seemed to have a commonality. Well, a couple; but one of the primary ones being that we had a common enemy in Roan.

And Aelvedaar, too? I never trusted that guy... and this dude thought he was his grandfather?! Be that as it surprisingly may, the sins of the father do not necessarily wash down to the son; for a strange reason I found Phalomir more and more trustworthy by the minute.

And my hunches were seldom wrong.

I let out a quick exhalation and spoke up quietly, this time doing my best to marshal my thoughts to keep from wandering off onto any further tangents.

“My whole experience with the Sith began when my dad and Jharmeen and I were out on a dig; dad was a xenoarcheologist, and he was fascinated by the Sith mythos…”

On I went, pouring it all out: how Jharmeen went into that cave and came out… not herself. Her killing dad. Trying to kill me. Me hiding, her leaving me there to die alone on an unknown planet. My discovery of the ancient hangar, learning to operate the Sith fighter. Crossing paths with the bounty hunter, Sorben Tarnus, crossing far more dangerous waters with him in the form of Desolist, Gravin Dark and Darth Wicked. Discovering my pregnancy, leaving Sorben to protect him from those who wanted little Darra for her innate abilities…

I stopped there and chewed on my lip a moment longer. How much did this guy know of the All? Better yet, how much should he know? Pursing my lips, I decided to forego the better part of valor and briefly told him as much as I knew of this weird power she held. After a moment’s pause, I went on and told Phalomir of her relationship with Aelvedaar, or at least as much as I knew of it, and the knowledge that her children would be born with the innate ability to use that strange power she had.

How or why, I hadn’t a clue.

I then went on, the whole nine yards, my brief entanglements with Admiral Actar, meeting Terrin Danner, marrying him… going to Sullust, Roan’s attack upon me in the hot springs, how who I thought was little Darra being ripped from me practically at the moment of her birth, and by such a demon as we had just thwarted. My constant hunt to find Darra, finding her, losing her, Roan’s persistence in chasing after Jharmeen and myself, how he took the child Jharmeen had borne by him to Kamino to have advanced in age, how we, Sorben included, had gone there to try to rescue her.

A pang ripped my heart as I told him of leaving Terrin, entangling yet again with Sorben who seemed to be hanging around with Actar a lot. Finally I ended with our going to the restored K’eel Doba yet again to look for Darra, this time in the company of Matt and Jasyn…

…only to end up taken once again by Roan and imprisoned wherever in Hell’s Seven Circles that it was he had put me.

“That’s pretty much it,” I finished, letting out a sigh. Roon’s Treasure, but it all sounded like something out of a holovid. I’d be laughing too, it was all so fantastic, but for the fact that I knew it all to be absolutely true.

I looked up at Phalomir, cocked my head, and let my eyes narrow a tad.

“So you’re my brother-in-law, huh,” I commented, looking him up and down again.

“You sure about that; Jharmeen did spend quite a lot of the last three years trying to kill me, you know, and when she wasn’t it was Roan. She almost married him…”

I dwindled to a stop then, seeing rising hurt and anger turn Phalomir’s green eyes olivine; wiping my hands upon my Sith suit—

Gads. Was I still wearing that old thing?!

--I got to my feet.

“Ok, bro, story time is over. Any idea how the hell we’re going to get out of here and back to… to…

A grimace.

“Er, back to the real world?”

“As for that whole brother-in-law thing, do not feel obligated to consider me so. That was in another time, another reality. Since then I have found my life clouded by mystery, conspiracy, and bitter irony. All I’ve wanted to do since discovering my unwitting participation is to bow out of this grand plan, to settle down with the woman I love more than anything, and start again. At every corner something has interfered, and even as I finally found the love within her for me, I am snatched away. She was so afraid of falling in love, of losing someone. I promised her I would never leave her on her own…”

Phalomir thought back to the last memories of being on board the Sith ship. What had happened, exactly? A faraway look crossed his eyes as he spoke.

“Jasyn and I were looking in the storeroom. We had come out of hyperspace too soon, and instead of the Korriban system – where we think you were – we ended up in the Corona Novadis system, just as the sun went nova. It was all caused by someone, probably Aelvedaar. You sister used the All to place a shield around us while we waited out the blast. In the storeroom, looking for food, I came across a bomb just about to go off. I wrapped my magick around it and contained the blast, but…”

He grabbed at his chest, feeling a memory of the fire.

“Something was not right. It was more than just a fire, much more. There was something else in that blast, something sinister, like a presence, and it tried to… to… take me. I fought it as best I could, keeping it trapped inside a shell of magick, pouring every ounce of will into it. Then Shayla found me and took the fire away, freeing me of the pain. Like an idiot, I was so relieved that I dropped the magick, allowing the presence to escape… I had no memory of it until just now.”

He eyes snapped wide open and stared directly into Galen’s.

“The presence! It has my lady! That must be it, that is what has happened! She was suddenly very cold to me, uncaring. When I studied her eyes I was reminded of a time when I faced demons from the Black River…”

Phalomir saw the blank look on Galen’s face. He took a moment to relate the story of his father taking him the Black Canyon, the meeting of the oily man-thing, and the coming into his innate abilities.

“Buddy, I’m afraid you’re in for a rude awakening,” I replied, placing my hands on my hips and widening my stance a bit. “Because sure as there’s treasure on Roon it looks like somebody already has, doesn’t it?”

Further thought along that line and my forehead wrinkled in a scowl. Unthinking, I stepped out from where I was standing next to the weird non-rock and started pacing, letting my peripheral vision work for me so I wouldn’t smack into Phalomir while moving restlessly about the confined space we were in.

“Ok, I can accept the fact that it might be that Aelvedaar guy behind all this; like I said, I never really trusted him.”

Flashback to a buried, ancient and very empty city on a world completely unknown to the galaxy….

“He always seemed so… apathetic, or something, easy to give in, I dunno. Something just didn’t jive with how I remember him acting in accordance to the situation everyone was in at the time.”

I shook my head again and paused, turning to face Phalomir again. His green eyes seemed to somehow glow eerily from the shadows in which he was standing; I shuddered a little bit—

What is it with the eyes of these Sith?

--and went on.

“All that aside though, I really can see him behind all this, or at least having his fingers deep into the pie. But what I don’t understand is how R—Roan is yet involved.”

A pause. A gulp. A strengthening of suddenly shaky voice.

“You said you killed him some time ago, yet I am positive he was up there.”

I waved a hand toward the ceiling, then with a grimace stopped in mid-wave.

“Er—out there, up there. Up where I was camping with Rhua—“

Another pause as yet another tangential thought arrowed home: Rhua. Is he ok? Did he manage to evade Roan, or was he in on all this somehow? No, that made no sense at all; think ol’ girl, think…

I gave my head a fractional shake, then sent an inquiring gaze upward into Phalomir’s eyes.

He looked up sharply at Galen.

“And I would be grateful for the chance to kill him again. Villainous scum such as he does not even deserve to live in Hell. And soon Aelvedaar will join him in oblivion. Jhameen…”

He squeezed the rock in his hand, the strength in his fingers pressuring the weird stone. Instead of bursting, the rock oozed out between Phalomir’s fingers. He looked down in disgust and dropped the stone onto the cave floor where it slowly reformed into its original shape.

“Weren’t you listening, Phal ol’ buddy?” I said, the rueful tone of my voice softening what might easily be mistaken for a snipe.

“Not only do I not know where that valley is, I don’t know where we are. As far as I know, it could be right outside that entrance—“

Pause to point toward the mysteriously blocked opening to our little sanctuary.

“—or on the other side of—of—well, wherever we are.”

Frowning, I crossed my arms and started leaning back against the weird rock; it was then that I noticed the gelatinous oozing of the rock Phalomir held in his hands. Putting a foot behind me to balance, I jerked back upright, the army of geese beginning to march up and down my back once more.

Pushing away the shudders trailing on the wings of those geese I started moving around the cave. I had first thought that it was a simple chamber; however, its farthest recesses were hidden in shadows inkier than night. I crept up to the very edge of a particularly oily looking shadow, and peered off into that darkness.

“Hey, Phal,” I said, craning my head and squinting. I turned to him then.

“Ya think this might go anywhere? I mean, ya think there might not be a back wall to this hole in the rock we’re in? ‘Cuz if not, in order to get outta here we’re gonna have to fight off the madding crowd outside, ya know…”

“I doubt the crowd outside will be replete,” he said, “even after such a meal. If this cave indeed leads somewhere, then we should at least explore the possibilities. Let us take a look.”

Phalomir peered into the oily shadow at which Galen was staring. His eyes, normally very good in poor lighting, could not see into the darkness. He called upon his powers and let a trickle of light flow from his palm, casting a beam at the shadows directly in front of him. He aimed the beam at the darker shadow.

A loud screech blasted from the shadow, taking Phalomir by surprise. He inadvertently increased the energy flowing from his hand, and the light intensified. The shadow seemed to wrinkle and contract, and a pair of glowing red eyes appeared from the center of the darkness, beaming back at Phalomir with an intense hatred. Again the shriek came, and then the entire shadow collapsed backwards, revealing a long tunnel. The shadow flew along the wall of the passageway and disappeared into the darkness beyond, the shriek eventually fading.

Phalomir looked to Galen.

“Yes, it goes somewhere,” he said. “You lead.”

I bit off the epitaph before I could go on and say anything demeaning to my companion, if such a thing was in fact possible to do, that is.

“Yeah, well… you’ve got my back,” I muttered, then stepped out. It might have been purely my imagination, but there seemed to be a horrific chill in the air right about where the edge of that oily whatever-it-was had lain, hiding the passage now stretching out who knew how far with a cunning that was almost brutal. I shivered, but kept going, one hand grasping instinctively for the blaster I no longer was wearing.

Sheesh, it all just keeps on getting better and better doesn’t it, Galen ol’ girl?

Ahead, the passage twined and writhed through the rock, seeming to change direction even as I watched. The weirdly rubbery outcroppings seemed to elongate, reaching out to snag at our clothing as we—or maybe I should just say I-- crept along. The sound of my footsteps echoed hollowly yet in a strangely muffled manner, as if the strident sound of rock ringing against rock had been somehow wrapped up in cotton wool.

Behind me came the sound of Phalomir’s booted footsteps, a sound that should have been comforting at the very least. Yet not even that could lessen the racing of my heart, nor chase the parading flock of geese from my back, nor entice the tiny hairs on the back of my neck to laying flat once more.

A dimly disturbing sound came from… ahead. I froze, crouching, hand once again flying to nonexistent blaster. My very skin seemed to be trying to crawl altogether from my body…

“Did you hear that?” I whispered, letting one foot slide backward until it struck against the tip of the Sith’s shiny boot. I jumped, clutching myself more tightly.

“Keep moving,” he whispered. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Phalomir stepped backwards, a long stride to put more space between him and Galen. He steadied himself and scanned the dark areas above Galen with his keen eyes, keeping the light trained on her. She took a step forward, then another.

The dark shadows directly above Galen moved with lightning speed. Phalomir yelled instinctively and brought his other hand up to bear on the movement, a bright red light blasting from it. The light struck the moving shadow and froze it in mid-motion, a shriek cut off before it began. The shadow fell to the ground in front of Galen, frozen in red plasma.

Phalomir stepped closer to Galen and gently grabbed her shoulders.

“I- uh, I think we should keep going this way,” I stammered as I pushed off and came to a light stand, eyeing the red-encased black thing warily.

“What is that thing, anyway?” I whispered as I inched around it.

“And what in Hell’s Seven Circles did you do to it, anyway? It's-- hey!” I interrupted myself, then letting my mouth drop open in wonderment that I should take so long to come up with the obvious.

"Why don't you use that red-power-thingy you seem to have and zap us the hell out of here? Seems that would be the easiest, now...

"Wouldn't it?"

“To be honest, I don’t quite what that red-power-thingy is exactly. I have powers, and one of them is an energy blast like I used on the imps. However, it has never before been that powerful, and I am slightly concerned as to what this means.”

He moved to follow Galen, stepping on top of the red-encased thing on the ground.

“This, however, concerns me more. I placed a shell around it, a containment energy. Again, this is more powerful than what I am used to.”

He stopped on top of the red shell and bounced on it.

“This is quite sturdy. Most interesting.”

He stepped off of the thing and smiled at Galen, his emerald eyes sparkling warmly.

“Yeah—sure,” I finally said, cocking a brow at him. “Just as long as it’s you calling upon it, and not the other way around!”

Muttering to myself about the simple reliability of a blaster, I continued on through the winding and rough-floored passageways, my eyes everywhere looking for shadows that were not such, the geese on my back alert for sneak attacks from behind.

At length the little pool of light we were following, that cast from Phal’s hand like some sort of biological lantern, revealed a dim splotch some distance ahead of the now-straight tunnel. I paused then and pointed.

“Looks like there’s a light at the end of the tunnel after all, er—figuratively speaking, that is.”

I didn’t allow Phal to reply but stepped out, hurrying to get out of our claustrophobic surroundings. While the darkness of the hell which lay without wasn’t really that much more comforting, at least I didn’t feel as if the air about us would suddenly develop teeth and try to swallow us whole.

“It’s about time!” I cried out as finally, blessedly, I burst from the opening that had grown to a proportion to just accommodate my height. Phal would have to stoop, I suppose; and what about those horns….

I froze, then backpedaled madly, slamming into the soft richness of the following Sith’s robes.

“I—I don’t believe it!” I yammered in a deathly whisper, plastered to Phalomir and staring straight ahead into sheer horror.

There, sitting quite calmly upon something that looked like a boulder, was none other than my old nemesis, Dark Lord Roan. He stared at us with turquoise eyes that seemed to veritably glow, his sensual mouth curled in a cross between a snarl and a sneer.

That by itself wasn’t what had sent me recoiling in terror. But—

I gulped, clutching Phal’s robes.

“Terrin—he’s got Terrin!” I choked, burying my face against the awful image still floating in front of my eyes: the image of one great clawed hand holding my husband by the throat, pinning him against the rock like some sort if hapless speciman…

“Lord Roan,” he said. “I cannot tell you what a pleasure it is to see you. Is it truly you or are you just a bad memory?”

Phalomir felt the terror and pain inside of Galen. He wrapped his arms around her, shielding her from the scene in front of them. The sneer disappeared and was replaced by a solemn frown. Phal felt the heat rising within him, along with the power of his Sith magick, accompanied by something else he could not quite identify. But the combination felt… good.

“Why,” he purred, giving Terrin another shake. His eyes slid like worms from Phalomir to the man in his grasp, and back again.

“Not nearly enough. And that alone provides me with a reason, as if I need be constrained by such.”

Phalomir raised his eyes to Roan, letting the power well within the concealed hand.

“Do you exist merely to torment this woman?” he called out. “Or have you other business? Perhaps something left unfinished with me? Either way, you no longer need this man…”

Phalomir’s hand flew outward from behind Galen, sending a bright flash of red shooting from his palm. Roan, expecting something, threw up a hand in defense, but the beam was not aimed at him. The flash passed by Roan and struck Terrin, freezing him in place and encasing him in a hard red gloss.

“You think yourself the possessor of knowledge, of all that exists; you believe you truly hold the answers to all questions rising before you,” he sneered as he clenched the hand that had once held Terrin by the throat. He glared balefully into Phalomir’s eyes, then let that evil gaze bore into the back of Galen’s head.

“How do you know what is real, and what is not?” he whispered, his voice now lowering to mimic black silk. "Command this realm, do you?"

Another oily smile spread across his features then as from within the hardened case Terrin’s figure began to writhe and squirm, fingers spread and clutching, mouth open in a gasp of despair as though he was striving vainly to gain air and couldn’t.

“Galen,” Roan purred, letting his voice hush even more, now letting it slide across the space separating them and into her ears on moth’s wings. “You can stop his torment, only you.

“He is no spirit, no shade from places other; he is alive, Galen, but he won’t be for long…”

He quieted then, spreading his arms out to either side of him while an absolutely angelic expression crossed his black features.

You can save his life, Galen….

I was doing my utmost to ignore that, knowing full well who the hell Roan was and what he had done not only to me but to practically everyone I have ever loved, when it came. At first it was no louder than the sigh of a baby’s breath, but bit by bit it strengthened until at last it overcame the insidious power of Roan’s last statement and captured my attention completely.

“Galen,” Terrin’s awful croak came into my ears. “No, don’t. Whatever he says, whatever he does, don’t.

“I love you Galen, I always will—“

I clapped my hands over my ears and tried to bury myself in Phalomir’s robes, fighting every instinct which was screaming that I turn and run to Terrin.

“Phal—“ I whimpered.

...but the fact was, he knew he was here in this place of demons, and with the seeming head of all of them clutching him by the throat and pinning him against some sort of strange non-rock. Whatever had brought him to this point was a still a blur...

...hadn't he been in some ancient Temple of the Sith looking for Galen, or something like that...?

...but what he did know was that he would rather die than be any sort of bargaining chip for Lord Roan whatsoever...

...and especially not when it was concerning Galen.

Galen...

Struggling for air even still, Terrin turned a pair of yet-firey blues towards Roan. "Leave her be," he half-growled, half-croaked. Then, the words clearly intended for his wife, he finished with a reutterance of some of his former words. "Galen...

... don't."

This was Roan, Dark Lord of Lies and Deception. Terrin was dead, this had to be a ruse. The best course of action was to call Roan’s bluff, and let his bargaining chip die.

But the pleas from Galen pulled at Phalomir’s heart. She was so certain, there was no doubt in her voice. The strongest bond he knew was that of true love, and if this is what they shared then… yes, it must be real. It must be him. Regardless of how…

”She knows,” he whispered chillingly, to which the struggling human in his grasp began struggling all the harder. His fist tightened; Terrin silenced once again, this time by force.

Now Roan turned his attention back to Phalomir. The smile turned to a grimace of disgust.

“Do not attempt to elevate your own importance, imposter,” he snarled at him, now giving Terrin a shake as if to underscore the words.

“I have no further business with the likes of you. You are but a worm beneath my feet, easily trodden into the dust from whence you came.”

Dismissing the Sith lord utterly then, he returned his focus to Galen, who was still cowering against Phalomir’s robes, her face hidden away as though she couldn’t bear to even look at Roan.

“So, Galen Jhin’Dar Danner,” he purred.

“Does this man live or die—for good.”

Somewhere in the depths of his eyes, something black roiled and glittered.

But then, there was no time for that. Roan's words otherwise only prompted Terrin to fight back even harder with every once of energy he could possibly muster. He tried fairly vainly to kick and scratch, his hands going about his neck along with the massive claw which was already there cutting off his airway.

His blue eyes retained a look of utter defiance and anger through it all, however.

"I would rather die," he mouthed more than spoke, and then simply continued to struggle as best as he could.

“Galen,” he asked softly. “Do not speak hastily. If this is Hell, then this beast should have no power outside of this realm. Our true enemy is Aelvedaar.”

Phalomir’s eyes narrowed. He was suddenly met with visions of the beast: thoughts of Roan’s sneering face as he assaulted Galen; Jharmeen facing his terrifying wrath; Phalomir himself sitting at a table with Roan, striking a deal…

Galen…

--one underscored every time by a black and silken foundation.

You can save his life.

I clutched Phalomir’s robes more tightly as I struggled, my heart accelerating as thoughts of what might happen to me filled me with the most terror I have ever felt. Yet that terror, that fear and anguish found a modicum of relief, for I knew as sure as Khaandon made little green worrts that this really was Terrin, and that he really was alive, and that no matter what wonderful monkey-tricks Phalomir had up his sleeve, no matter how much his fancy red-thingy flashed, in the end it was simply up to me.

A life for a life; no.

A life for one returned.

I looked up at Phalomir, gulping although there wasn’t so much as a drop of spit in my mouth.

“I—I have to…”

Before I could change my mind, I released my death’s grip on his robes, whirled, and darted out. It seemed that roiling shadows backed up a bit, a dark and oily sea parting before my prow as I bore onward amidst all that red-speckled black, forward, not daring to look anywhere but into Terrin’s wonderful blue eyes, holding them like a lifeline…

I barreled right on and smack-dab into Roan. A gasp flung from my lips as I felt his claws now encircle my own throat, and I closed my eyes reflexively.

But not before seeing Terrin flying bodily through the air, straight at Phalomir. And before I fainted from sheer terror I heard another voice in the dim distance:

”It was her own choice….”

Kriffing hell...

As soon as he possibly could, however, Terrin scrambled to his feet, his blue eyes shooting to the only other apparent living being in his vicinity: The sith--the one who had been with Galen. He had emerald eyes, sorta like another Sith he knew...

...but this guy was not that one. This was the least of Terrin's worries at the moment, however. An admixture of anger and terror and horror was rising up in the depths of his blue eyes as he finally spoke...

...or rather, yelled out of pure and simple horror...

...at least, as well as one can after nearly being strangled. "Why didn't you stop her!?!?! He'll hurt her...do terrible things to her...!"

He trailed a moment as his blue eyes defocused, simultaneously balling one fist and shaking it. "I've gotta get to her...

...somehow..."

Once more he quieted, his blue eyes then locking on the Sith's emerald eyes, slitting. "But then, just who the kriffing hell are you...

...and how the hell do I know that I can trust you after what just happened?"

“I would have stopped her if I could. Who the hell are you to question me? You are supposed to be DEAD!”

He stared long at Terrin, his hand blocking the air from entering the human’s lungs. Phalomir saw the surprise turn to pain, then fear. He continued to stare as Terrin attempted to mouth words, his face turning a deep red. Phalomir gazed into Terrin’s eyes further, as if he were trying to see his very soul.

“You can trust me no more than I can trust you, but I suppose that will have to do if we are to survive here.”

Phalomir dropped Terrin to the ground. The human grabbed his throat and gasped for air.

“For all I know you could be a product if Roan’s evil. If I have any reason to doubt your sincerity, I will kill you without hesitation. But if you are true, then we have something in common. I too am trapped here while the woman I love is in danger.”

He looked hard at Terrin.

Gripping his weapon tightly, the Kaminoan scientist carefully picked his way down the slope until he came to a halt on a slight outcropping of ancient bedrock. There he balanced precariously as he simultaneously tried to press against the rock behind him and peer down over the little ledge upon which he was standing.

Beneath him, the terrifying black and oily something writhed like a den of dianoga; he tightened his hold on his weapon and snorted, trying to chase away his rising fear.

I don’t really have to go after her, he thought to himself. There really is no reason for it; I can quite easily clamber straight back up this slope and head away, until I finally find—

It wasn’t so much the gut feeling that he would find absolutely nothing that stopped that train of thought. It was, rather, the sense of shame he felt suddenly rising within him.

After what I—after what He made me do to her….

He took a deep breath, strengthening his resolve. Then with no more looking back, he continued down slope, until at length he once more found himself on a small outcrop. This one was only a few meters above that roiling, awful nothing.

He took in another great breath of air, and blinked his eyes once.

Rhua, admit it. You never really wanted to be a scientist anyway now, did you?

No stepping back: he took a final deep breath and launched himself into the black, and only in the final seconds before impact did he manage to close his eyes….

This would have been unnecessary. I could have overpowered the Eye, I did not need to die but for the denouncement I made.

Damn that meddling Recinis. Damn Her.

And damn to the iciest depths of this Hell he or she who tries to stand in our way. For although trapped here I am…

Unaware I am most certainly not.

On the other end of the corridor, twin eyes of pooled lava sparkled at him.

“Indeed, Brother.” The voice belonging to those eyes came whickering along the unfathomable pathways that existed between them.

“Although I would much have preferred you standing here with me, physically by my side, you can yet share the outcome of our great quest. A vicarious enjoyment is better than none at all, is it not?”

The voice tapered off into a rich chuckle as its owner clearly sensed Roan’s growing ire. For indeed, the Dark Lord was dead… at least as far as the normal universe was concerned. Nothing, not even the great power of the All, not even in combination with the most intricate of Sith magicks, could return true life to dead tissue.

The long and the short of it was that through such magicks, through the will of he who stood chuckling at this very moment, Roan existed, and to some extent alive. However he could only exist in this state within the confines of that Darker Realm, that awful dimension a proton’s width removed from the normal one in which the living galaxy existed.

He grumbled again.

“Send her to me!” he commanded, now trying to match the level of authority in his flashing eyes with that of he who yet walked in flesh and blood.

“What do you need her for? She cannot be of any possible use to you, especially after—“

The chuckle broke off with an audible snap.

“There is yet a use for this one, albeit not in the manner I had first intended. But such is the challenge in gaining galactic dominion, is it not, my Brother?”

Roan snarled in reply, and fisted his great clawed hand. After a moment or two in which he gathered his wrath into something more manageable, he lifted his head and gazed off into that weirdly existing corridor.

“And when you are finished?” he asked. The reply coming back into his very being was not long in forthcoming.

“Why, of course you may have her when I’m finished, Brother. Let her join the other I sent to you, let them exist for your pleasure in hunting them down, over and over again, throughout all of eternity.

“Or whatever else it is you would desire to do with them.”

Somewhat appeased by this, Roan nodded and closed his eyes. Then they snapped open, and he cocked his head. He reached out with his remaining All powers.

“There are yet others here, Brother; the one who carries the Spirit; where is the Eye?”

The voice remained silent for awhile. Then—

“It too will come.”

Roan closed his eyes again, and took in a deep breath. This time when he opened them, they were filled with a fire nearly equal to that within the being he was speaking with.

“I shall ready myself. I shall not be taken unaware again.”

The corridor between them seemed to smile before it contracted into an impossibly thin line, one which in turn pulled in upon itself until nothing was there except a mere point in the otherness. This finally disappeared in a brilliant flash of greeny-gold; Roan turned away with a sigh, then called out into the darkness all around him.

“Maladius, my friend! Come to me….”

The word rang in Terrin's mind, confusion following on its heels.

"Dead?" he then managed, a frown forming on his face as he once more found himself getting off of the non-ground and back to his feet. "The last I remember I was brought here--

--with Galen and some other people I believe--

--and we were confronted by two evil beings: Graysith's daughter and one who might as well have been the devil himself. I don't know exactly what happened from there...

...but the next thing I remember is becoming aware of Lord Roan holding me by the throat. "

At this Terrin trailed a moment, and his eyes turned a bit vague. He wasn't particularly thrilled in trusting this Sith...

... Sith?!..

...quite so soon. Quite frankly, however, he had no other options. And Galen did seem to have a small modicum of trust in the guy herself, which counted as a mark in his favor.

"I can't say I know how to get out of this place...

...I'm not even exactly sure how I got here to begin with. But tell me...

...has something happened to Lord Recinis? And just how is it that I am supposed to be..."

“There is a long story to be told. To start, I am afraid we are in the Darker Realms, the place beyond life and death. Galen told me of your death, so I must assume that what you are now is a shade of your former self. Sorry to have to tell you this way, but we have no time for self-pity.”

Phalomir paused, watching Terrin’s confused eyes wander.

“Look at me!” he snapped. Terrin refocused on Phalomir, confusion still showing.

“Recinis lives...”

For now...

“But something is strange with him. He and Jharmeen have gone their separate ways. I am—“

He thought of telling Terrin the story of being from future, but the confusion in the man’s eyes was already too great.

“I am the new Lord of the Weapons Clan, the Armorers. Jharmeen and I have – a history – which has recently been renewed. We have uncovered a vast plot that involves both her and I, along with ancient powers beyond your understanding. Somehow Galen was involved as well, and we were searching for her in the Dark Canyon.. which I believe to be somehow connected with this valley of the Dark Lords others have spoken of. If suspicions stand to reason, by finding this valley then we may find the way back to the Black Canyon.”

Phalomir stared directly into Terrin’s eyes.

“If you are indeed dead, then you a resident of this place, as is Roan. If Roan has the aid of Aelvedaar, then who knows what may be possible? My powers seem even stronger here, and fueled with my hatred I intend to destroy that beast Roan forever.”It is I who ruled here…

Phalomir dismissed the errant thought and grabbed Terrin by the shoulders.

“Focus on Galen, perhaps you yet share some common bond with her. Lead us to her.”

Falling silent then, he let his eyes remain on Phalomir's. Then he completely changed the subject, shifting it to any answer he might give to his final statement. "As for any possible link I might have with Galen...

...I can't say I have any sort of Force-link; after all, I am no Force user. However, I know Roan, and that could play to our advantage. He always wanted Galen..."

He trailed a moment, his eyes turning vague and somehow pained, "...because she had the ability to birth children with All capabilities. He, like Aelvedaar, had plans to rebirth the Sith Empire; I don't know if either have been successful in this. However, if Roan is dead..."

Terrin paused once more, his look turning entirely dark as some of Phalomir's words finally registered with him. "...you said he might be in league with Aelvedaar?"

With these words, a heart-wrenching sort of concern took over him. "...possibly Aelvedaar permitted Roan to have Galen in exchange for something else. Or perhaps..."

Terrin quieted a moment, the shade of his eyes turning to the bluest of midnight, "...Roan may have given Galen over to Aelvedaar. After all, if Roan is dead, I don't think he will be able to accomplish whatever goal he has...

...not without the help of the living. And Aelvedaar may have something to play in his favor. I made a blood-oath with Graysith, one which eventually was seen as an oath with the Sith, one which I made to secure my wife's protection from Roan. If Aelvedaar were to use that in his benefit...

...there is no telling what might happen. But if this is so I am almost certain of one thing: my wife is either still in this place, somewhere with Roan...

...or she is on Khar Delba..."

Yet when one finds that one special place that has called silently for all one’s life, that one location that holds an open door for the heart, then the soul may rejoice and let the anchor drop, knowing that now the journey has ended. The eyes may close and rest may take over the healing of the weary.

But home is not always where one wants to be. Thoran watched from his hidden nook, contemplating his mad existence while the strange long necked creature stumbled through the spongy rocks. His own life had been so sound, so secure, and he basked in the knowledge that what he had done was in the name of saving the future.

But it was a lie. Everything he had believed was a lie. The Eye had awoken him to this, capturing his soul and throwing it back into the pit. Once here, Thoran had been forced into discovery, and what he had discovered had sent his mind reeling from the darkness that had bound him for so long. And now, thanks to the interference of other powers, the decision to share his discoveries was forced upon Thoran.

Many had followed him into this land of darkness. He had followed the flame-haired sister of Graysith, watched as Phalomir led her to the Dark One, and observed the exchange of one soul for another. But this was all part of the lie. Part of the plan. The Master plan, so to speak.

He must tell Phalomir, this much was certain. But how would it effect him? The truth, especially this truth, would be difficult to grasp. It would go against everything Phalomir wished and dreamed, everything he thought he was. But, yes, telling Phalomir was the first step to correcting this wrong, the first step to restoration, the first step to vengeance.

And this creature from the water planet was the first step in telling Phalomir.

Thoran slid like a serpent from his hiding place and smoothly descended the hill, as silent as the night wind. When he was within a few feet of the Kaminoan he paused.

He was fast, after all. The mere fact that he and Galen had managed to escape from the hidden lab proved that – for he was not the only Kaminoan who had been there at the time. But as parents are often wont to state to their children at the end of a bedtime fairy-tale, that is best left as another story….

Rhua swept his surroundings with a scientist’s eye… and finally found it. Nearby, seeming to huddle against the strange non-rocky material was—a shadow. A shade. A ripple in the fabric of the atmosphere. A point in the noneness from which surprisingly sentient speech flowed.

He gripped his weapon more tightly, blinked to focus more clearly on that weird ripple. It shimmered like black silk; he swallowed but held down the rush of fear that at first strove to entirely incapacitate him. His knuckles whitened.

“Whom I follow and why is business of my own,” he began carefully enough, loosening his stance just the slightest in preparation of either fight of flight. “And I serve no one.”

Liar...

He paused a moment, and took in a breath. The strange gases in the atmosphere tasted metallic in his mouth, like old blood. Swallowing, he pushed that thought aside and cocked his head.

“I am more concerned with the ease in which we have met, stranger,” he went on, trying to act as nonchalant as he possibly could.

“This is a strange and forbidding zone; who are you? Where are you—and most importantly, why?”

“I am here,” said Thoran. “Do not be alarmed so, my friend. We serve the same master, though it may not be whom you think. We have met before.”

Thoran watched the Kaminan’s eyes as the mind behind them searched for memories.

“Look not for this face,” he smiled. “You shall not remember. Look only the to future, and open your mind to how we shall aid each other in this land.”

Thoran lowered his head slightly and narrowed his eyes.

“I do not have any idea what you are speaking of,” he finally said calmly enough, although his hand tightened further upon his hidden weapon.

“I do not know you; how may one know the future? One cannot travel this timeline, there are too many paradoxes involved—“

He trailed a moment as that portion of his mind devoted to such things immediately tackled the very idea, turning the kernel this way and that, seeking irrefutable proof of the mere possibility, or adamant disproof thereof. With a jerk, he then brought himself back to focus upon Thoran.

“I do not know you, and never have,” he repeated, now taking a step backward. “I serve no master; perhaps I once did but by reason of his abandonment of me, I remove myself from his service and now adhere to—“

Again he paused, cutting off his words before he let anything out he would later regret.

“Further, I see no reason to aid you in this land,” he finished, somewhat defiantly. “I shall find that which I came here to seek, and shall then depart. It is only that way.”

“I am unsure as what your oath could offer us now. Jhar—Graysith is under the influence of something, she will not honor any oath, even if it were still binding.”

Phalomir slumped his shoulders ever so slightly and exhaled.

“You are rapidly proving yourself of little worth to me,” he sighed. “If we have no link, and no idea where to find the valley, then we have little to rely upon.”

Phalomir looked around, surveying the territory that surrounded them. To the north – or his best estimation of north – was the hillside he and Galen had just traveled through… or under, to be more precise. To the east lay more mountains, while the south seemed to stretch out into strange plains. Phalomir peered out into the west, noticing the hills giving way to the plains, but not before being split by a great open area. It was still blind luck to find the valley, but at least this presented a viable possibility.

“We travel west,” he said flatly. “Keep your eyes and ears open for imps and other denizens.”

Without further ceremony, he began walking. After a few paces he stopped.

“Your master, the one you thought you served, is here in this land. He would be most happy to see you, I have no doubt. His abandonment of you was brought about by his death, which was at the hands of the very person I was sent to destroy.”

Thoran’s smile faded.

“But that person is here also, though by right he no longer belongs here. Lord Phalomir is his name, and you will help me find him if you wish to ever see your home again. You see, he holds a key…”

Thoran scowled, his face slightly distorting.

“And as for remembrance, perhaps you would better recognize me as this…”

Thoran’s features shifted, his arms and neck extending in a fast, blurry haze. Within an instant he had transformed into a tall Kaminoan. His eyes darkened and he smiled, nodding to the startled Rhua Ki.

“Now do you recall?” he asked. “Or do we need to recreate the entire incident where I introduced you to Lord Roan?”

But this was Rhua Ki. He, the oddball of his caste, the one always choosing to flee his water-world and travel, to seek and learn by actual observation rather than by what some other has written in a book. Although Thoran’s transformation to his well-respected colleague and back again, accompanied by his veiled threats concerning the Dark Sith Lord, were daunting to say the least, part of Rhua’s nature simply refused to let it overpower him. Curiosity now warred with logic, and between the pair of them his earlier rising fear began to abate, just a little.

“Your parlor tricks are very impressive,” he said, shifting his stance a bit. His fingers tightened ever so slightly. “But they serve only to confirm that which I already know.”

He nodded to himself, pleased with the tentative conclusion he was rapidly coming to, one further strengthened by what this stranger had just told him.

“I am currently either in a place of non-life, or that of another dimension. This has been postulated for sometime, although experiment has steadfastly refused to support our equations.”

A pause for reflection—

“If this is so, then those who are denizens here cannot depart from this realm. Not if they are true shades, or dead, or at least not enjoying life as it is known in what we would call the normal universe. By your very ability to deform yourself so easily, I can only deduce that shade you are as well, now joining the one to whom, regrettably, I was forced into servitude…”

He trailed off again, staring down at the weird non-rock as the fear within him jostled harder, beginning to fight for disclosure.

“He may be powerful… but if he is dead… well.

“Then he is dead.”

Now he lifted his head and stared directly into Thoran’s eyes.

“Science shall prevail, even here. The logic of macrocosmic physics remain steady as well. You are shade, He is now shade…

“I am flesh and blood, a stranger in a strange land. But by that very physicality, perhaps I have some slight defense against what might exist here--?”

His eyes grew blank then as his mind addressed this possibility. While he had been here – once – taken here as further inducement to assisting the Dark Lord, and was aware of the dark denizens of this place, by the very shock value he had been forced into experiencing he had not then had the time to ponder the oxymoron that this place did indeed exist, and he had been in it. But now he had had time to address this concept a bit more at his leisure.

Alternate realities cannot really cross, cannot truly interact. Dimensions, while existing with each other, cannot do so either. One cannot be in the same place at the same time, one cannot travel through time. Those objects belonging to one cannot harm what belongs within another. Ghosts cannot touch the physical, only the debilitating fear within one.

Yet-- something seemed not quite right...

He shook his head, putting the quandary aside for the moment.

“I have no ill-will toward this one you call ‘Phalomir',” he said, switching the subject. “But I do have—other business here, business that this little soiree is taking me away from. I am afraid I must continue on toward it’s conclusion, and wish you the best of luck in completing yours.”

Nodding then he began to step out, but hesitated. Something still didn’t seem quite right yet; shade or not, he waited to see how Thoran would react.

Not waiting for a reply, Thoran stepped up to be in stride with the Kaminoan should he begin walking again.

“Certainly there is no need to fear me,” he said. “For a shade could surely cause no harm to a flesh and blood being such as yourself. Carry on, then, old boy!”

Thoran grinned and swiftly slapped the back of the Kaminoan, sending him stumbling forward a step.

“Indeed, your presence by my side will not annoy me, for in my reality you simply are not there, are you?”

He smiled in turn and quickly reaching out went to slap Thoran in turn upon his shoulder. That smile crooked as his pale and long-fingered hand passed through the other’s flesh as if it was air.

“I believe that is a factor in my favor, friend,” he concluded aloud, stepping forward then with a firm resolve to not be taken unaware again.

I must always – always – keep the nature of this place in my mind, he thought as he went on, his eyes now scanning for imp or Galen, whoever might show up first.

He smiled as he walked, for yet another theory was beginning to solidify...

Thoran caught up with the fast walking scientist.

“…and thrown into your realm. Although, in the case of Phalomir, he was not here for long. He is from the future, you see…”

Thoran paused in his sentence, but continued to walk in stride with the Kaminoan.

“Oh, this is indeed going to take some convincing for you to believe me. Perhaps we should skip that part and move on to the reason why you are here, and why it is different from why you think you are here. You seek Galen, this I know. You will not find her, and as your despair grows, so will the darkness in your soul, until it consumes you and you become a shade as well. And yes, shades cannot pass from this realm. But as I said, Phalomir and I are anomalies, and we can pass back out…”

Thoran looked to the scientist.

Timelessness passed. Then—

“Your logic escapes me, friend,” he stated flatly. “I cannot become a shade by the mere force of my own emotions. This is illogical in the extreme, and is in direct conflict with that which has just been shown to me. In fact—“

He paused a moment longer to consider carefully before continuing.

“In fact, my reality is not meaningless. For, am I not here? By my own physicality in this place, my reality holds true, has impact, and perhaps impact strong enough to continue supporting my growing theory, as bit by bit it appears to be doing."

He stopped walking and turned to Thoran.

“That shade cannot physically affect solidity. You are either shade or not; by your ability to transmorph in front of my eyes, it would appear that shade indeed you are. Thus you have no hold on me, spirit.

"It is all here.”

He tapped the side of his head with one slender finger, his lips quirking in a slight smile. Then he turned and went on, still searching for Galen in spite of Thoran’s dire disclosure.

All the while his mind busily churned, now pondering such impossibilites as Force usage and the juxtaposition of physical and nonphysical realities. Somewhere there was a tie, somewhere on the tiniest of scales, far too tiny to be found via experimentation.

The mind. The energies of the mind. That has to be the link, he thought, and simply continued on.

He walked a bit longer with Rhua Ki, bemusedly watching the Kaminoan formulate his ideas.

“Well, anyway,” he said at last. “Roan is here in this realm, as I said. He currently has Galen in his possession, and has possibly even traded her off to Aelvedaar by now, if that was his intention. My buddy Phalomir might be willing to help you find Galen, he’s pretty handy in this realm. He is a little confused, mind you, because all of the strange things done to him by the Master and Aelvedaar have left a few holes in his memory. But he’s pretty tough, he’ll be fine. Eventually. This last business with Jharmeen has him a little screwed up, though.”

Thoran looked off to the approaching hills, scanning the horizon for movement.

“So, you think I’m a shade, eh? Well, you’re halfway right. I mean, yeah, I’m here in spirit only. Strangely enough, though, I’m pretty solid sometimes. I really don’t belong here right now, you see, the Eye of R’lous plucked me away from the Master and showed me some things. I really don’t have a body in the ‘real’ world, that was given up about 4500 years ago, but if we can find a way to use the power in the Valley of the Dark Lords then maybe we can get—“

The soft ground before Thoran’s feet exploded into a small cloud of blackness. He stopped in mid-step and looked to the left from where the blast of red energy had come.

“Thoran,” he called out. “I should have known I would run into your cursed spirit here. Has the Master disposed of you so soon?”

He looked to the tall creature next to Thoran.

Kaminoans...

The three names together made a mix that Terrin couldn't even swallow. After all, Roan was infamous-- worse than that!--for his business with Kaminoans...

...and with mothers who could birth babies who were All-inherent.

And Terrin was about to reply to all of that when low and behold, here was some human who appeared to know Phalomir...

... and a Kaminoan.

Terrin slitted his eyes, and crossed his arms even as Phalomir finished his question to the Kaminoan.

"Roan, Kaminoan..." Terrin muttered darkly under his breath, "I don't know who the hell your buddy is, but I have suspicions as to why that Kaminoan might be here..."

Thus he kept himself as calm and soothingly quiet for as long as possible before finally answering.

“My name is Rhua Ki,” he began nicely enough, craning his head back now to address Phalomir to his face.

“And as to my business with this erstwhile scoundrel, as you call him; well… that, dear sir, I am afraid is not yours.”

He fell silent again, but not before whispering out of the side of his mouth to Thoran,

Now Rhua's eyes slitted the merest fraction, and he studied the towering Phalomir more closely.

This was the one who would possibly assist them... this was the one of whom Thoran had spoken... this was the one whose mind had been played about with, if he was to believe what his traveling companion had spoken in regard to this matter...

He cleared his throat, coming to a conclusion based on nothing more than -- dare he think it? -- a hunch.

The enemy of my enemy is my friend, especially when a commonality is shared, he thought to himself, clearly recalling his first introduction to Thoran.

"You would be speaking of Galen Jhin'Dar Danner," he said clearly, then indicated the smiling Thoran with a nod of his head.

"I believe this one would know more about her probable whereabouts than I would at this time..."

“Hey, whoa! Don’t get that look in your eyes, there, buddy!” Thoran exclaimed. “Look, I got some information for you. The Eye, it… well, it did something to me. Tore me away from the Master, remember when we were standing up there looking down at the canyon? Well, I think the Eye put me there to meet with you. When you left, I… I jumped. Into the blackness.”

...after all, he was a salesman, and part of the reason he was successful stemmed from his ability to read body language and nuances.

And his ability to play his cards carefully, so to speak. He read no deception, no deceit...

...perhaps nothing more than pure scientific calm. But Terrin thought he might have caught a flash of distrust for the other human in the Kaminoan's eyes...

"If Galen trusted the Kaminoan, I think we can, especially if he helped her escape. Still, I don't know how much we can truly trust someone who worked for Roan...

...but then, that depends on what information he might give us concerning what Roan was up to..."

Terrin trailed at this, concern evident in his eyes as he turned to the Kaminoan. "I'm also curious as to why you think he might have some answers about Galen's whereabouts," he continued, pointing towards Thoran.

"And by the way," he finished with, "In case you're wondering who I am and what I have to do with any of this, my name is Terrin Danner."

Thoran lifted a eyebrow and glanced up to Terrin. His eyes shifted to Phalomir, then to Rhua Ki, then back to Terrin. He lifted his hands in a heralding salute and went to his knees.

“Don don DON!” he yelled, mocking the sounds of a trumpet.

Phalomir scowled at Thoran, who stopped smiling and rose.

“Who the hell is Darrin Tanner?” Thoran called out. “Just why am I supposed to be so impressed with who this guy is?”

"Ahhh," he said as he now turned his attention to Terrin. "Terrin Danner.

"Any relation to my lost companion?"

He cocked his head, his face remaining absolutely expressionless. Underneath his robe his hand toyed absently with his weapon.

"I'm afraid what business I had with Lord Roan is strictly confidential," he began at length, but hurried on when he saw the looks beginning to creep in both Phalomir's and Terrin's eyes.

"May I stress the key word in that statememt as being had?"

He paused then, but this time only to let his eyes slide to the chortling Thoran.

"Please try to restrain yourself," he whispered out of the side of his mouth before finally ending with, "...and I believe this one has information pertaining to the aforementioned Galen according to certain bits of data he has chosen to impart to me."

Another pause.

"Certainly he seems to know something, which is far more than I do."

...distant, and far more than just simply concerned.

Galen had exchanged her own life for his...

...and it at least appeared that Roan still had plans for her, if not only for the fact that he had taken her alive...

Terrin jerked from those thoughts, unwilling to let them stray any further. He looked to the Kaminoan, beginning by answering his first question. "Galen is my wife," he said simply, a heart-felt agony growing in his look as he then continued with, "And the time which we have to find her is pressing, as you probably are already aware. I don't know what this Thoran knows or claims to know," he proceeded with, his blue eyes flicking to Thoran then back to Rhua Ki, "Nor do I know who he is and what part he plays in all of this. I do know for a fact that Roan has Galen again since I saw him take her with my very own eyes..."

He trailed momentarily, his look entirely pained. Then it shifted to one of utter determination. "And I am certain he still has plans for her since he took her alive, plans which you are probably at least partially aware of. If he is dead as I have been informed, however...

...that means that he is probably being assisted...

...or manipulated...

...by one who is not trapped within this very Hell which we are in, one who could complete the whatever dark plans he had. We simply have to find a way out of here and get to her before those plans are completed...

...and there aren't too many who could do that I believe...

...perhaps there is only one."

Once more Terrin paused, his eyes turning dark as they then shifted towards Thoran. "But then perhaps you, Thoran, know something of this?"

He looked then to Phalomir, whose look was skeptical, to say the least. "We may not be able to trust him," Terrin said quietly to the Sith, "But I would like to at least hear what he has to say. After all, if the one we think may have Galen indeed does and has plans for her...

...he may have plans as well for Graysith..."

Thoran chuckled as Phalomir’s icy glare cut through him.

“But really,” Thoran continued. “Your late friend there has a point, Phal. Maybe I do know something of this. Maybe I was even part of this.”

Phalomir’s glare turned even colder.

“But give me a chance, old buddy,” Thoran smiled. “I might have a pleasant surprise for you. Just keep your little friend there quiet and we grown-ups can talk business.”

...then he realized that in all likelyhood this guy was trying to egg him on. Besides, he knew he was alive...

...and that was enough. Besides, his state of existence mattered little in the face of what Galen was going through at this very moment...

...so Terrin simply folded his arms, waiting to see if this Thoran indeed had anything worth telling...

...or if he was before them as nothing more than merely a distraction.

"Excuse me," he began, "but I really can't see how any of this is getting us anywhere. Where Galen is, and with whom, is really moot unless we can figure out a means of getting ourselves from this place back to where she probably now is, which--"

He paused, glancing from Phalomir and Terrin to Thoran, frowning a bit at the latter.

"Which I believe to be another reality from this one," he finished with an expansive wave of one hand, and fell silent.

He turned back to Phalomir, who was still sending an icy glare Thoran’s direction.

“Now, here’s what I see. Whether you believe me or not, that’s up to you, but hear me out. I know you think I’ve done some pretty crappy things to a few people. The truth is, I’ve done some pretty crappy things to a whole lot of people. But that’s all behind us now, and was all done for the common good anyway. Well, it was until the Master got involved.”

Phalomir tensed.

“Now, hold your hotcake, there,” Thoran continued. “A mutual acquaintance of ours came to see me not too long ago. You might say he was keeping an EYE out for me. He showed me some things, told me some information that I found hard to swallow, but in the end he convinced me. We’re on the same side, Phal. In the long run, we should be working together.”

Phalomir cocked his head slightly.

“You met with the Eye?” Phalomir said doubtfully. “Is that what you are trying to tell me?”

“Yes,” Thoran stated flatly. “I met with the Eye. It tore me away from the Master, it brought me to the canyon that once held the Valley of the Dark Lords. It brought us together for a short time, if you recall. Then it brought me here. Here, where I could learn, where I could remember…”

Phalomir stared hard at Thoran, trying to find the deception behind the smooth words.

“Phalomir…” Thoran rasped. “I know who the Master is… and so do you… and we must stop him. Not just for Jharmeen, not just for Galen… not even just for Shayla. For the entire galaxy…”

Thoran’s eyes clouded slightly.

“I have found when working with others, whether those others are colleagues or students, that those who know the least tend very much to say the most… and in that saying say nothing at all.”

He swung from Phalomir to regard Thoran sternly.

“You imply much, my friend,” he said, his voice taking on a touch of sternness, like a professor who was beginning to lecture upon a very important topic. “But you do not clarify. Precision, man, or what you say will be overlooked as inconsequential to the subject at hand.”

For a moment he stopped to send another glance to Phalomir and Terrin, apology in that look. Then he turned back to Thoran.

“While I am quite interested to hear who this Master is of whom you speak, as well as what connections he might have to my missing companion, I still find this conversation tangential to our real problem. This is: one, to determine exactly what and where this place is, a quandary to which I have already produced some theories; and two, to establish a means of departing from it.

“Then we may apply ourselves to the problem of, er… saving the universe, which you imply with those somewhat grandiose words you have stated. Mr. Danner—“

He interrupted himself and now turned to Terrin. Shade or not, the man appeared to now be a member of their strange little party, and logic strongly suggested all cards played between any of the group must be clearly laid out, if they were to get along and keep each other alive in this place of madness.

“Earlier you hinted that I worked for Lord Roan. At that time I had not acknowledged this fact to anyone here; I only stated, in reply to a question to your fearsome-looking friend there, that I had assisted in her escape from Kamino. Clearly your comments and questions indicate a dislike of my people, if not outright distrust of them, since you do not know me well enough personally to judge me alone. Or else this statement shows a tendency toward conclusion jumping.

“Might I suggest that from now on you wait until all the data are in before trying to claim a hypothesis as being correct. While I do not know much of this place, a—a hunch informs me that it is probably very dangerous here, which in turn implies that we must rely heavily on one another.

“Might I conclude by stating my belief that all of us had better begin speaking openly now, and not circuitously or in so reactionary a manner, in order that trust might grow to support our forced reliance upon each other?

"Unless, of course, we all plan to go about our separate ways, which I believe to be a very poor choice at the very least.”

Thoran looked back to Phalomir.

“But, yeah, it is definitely time to be open. How about this, since I know you have a lot of questions, you tell me what you think you know about things and I’ll tell you how right you are.”

Phalomir cast Thoran a dubious look.

“Very well,” said Phalomir. “I will begin from some time ago, to allow our new friends a glimpse of our past. My life is somewhat of a mystery, as my memory has been blocked and most of what I will tell you has been learned or pried from hidden stores. I am Phalomir, once the Dark Lord of the Sorcerers. I was married to Jharmeen, I had a young son. Later in my life the Sith were invaded by the Vong, I was the sole surviving member of the triad and was sent to negotiate for peace. My shuttle was attacked, I was seriously wounded, and my wife was taken by the Vong.”

Phalomir paused, Thoran smiled and nodded.

“I awoke in most strange situation,” Phalomir continued. “I was led to believe that I had spent the last 4500 years with my spirit imprisoned inside of a crystal, the Eye of R’lous, with my best friend Thoran. We had somehow been freed and were inside the body of a human, Panthar Dantares. It was a very strange experience, but eventually we were restored to our bodies – which were statues at the time, long story – and then discovered I was betrayed by my friend Thoran.”

Thoran shifted and coughed, then returned to his smile.

“Well,” he said, “for one, you left out the story of your father. You know, about how he sold you to the Lord of the Darker Realms, met at the black canyon and tried to trade you there? And then discovered your seriously kickin’ powers and dealt some mighty blows to your father and the tar-man, as you called him? I think they escaped by coming… hmmm… HERE.”

Thoran sat on the squishy ground.

“Might as well get comfy, people,” he said. “Phal, in case you haven’t figured it out, your father is the Master. He was here, growing his powers, a physical being trapped in a shadow realm. He made many friends here, but was still haunted by his bargain. You see, when you died on your shuttle, your spirit would have been sent here anyway, and that would do no good to your father’s cause. They wanted you whole, alive, full of power. So he made another bargain, this time with someone in the past… Aelvedaar. What he wanted was in line with what they wanted, and what did they care if they altered a few timelines? Upon your death, you were plucked away and brought to me. I arranged it all, the business with the crystal, the memory implants… all of it. What I didn’t know was that the crystal given to me was the Eye of R’lous. Even then, 4000 years ago, there was someone who knew what Aelvedaar was up to and did whatever they could to fight him. You see, the Eye was lost long before the Sith were brought forward, created by Trelanicus to keep the Sith honest in their experiments with the All.”

Thoran paused for breath.

“Interesting,” he said calmly, filing these sudden revelations away for future reference. A ghost of a smile flickered across his otherwise unflappable features.

“You have been here before, Phalomir?” he asked, cocking his head toward the Sith Lord. “And have, as our mutual acquaintance here has so obligingly stated, ‘kick-ass’ powers at your disposal?

“Perhaps powers strong enough to at lead us in the right direction while we are here… if not even being powerful enough to get us out of here altogether? For I too admit I have been here in this place… once…”

His eyes closed briefly at that remembered terror.

“…and could not have escaped from it if it hadn’t been for the Dark Lord of the Sith who had accompanied me here, via the utilization of his unproveable strengths.

A dark room in a deserted Temple, one filled with Kaminoan laboratory equipment...

...among other things...

Terrin cleared his throat for attention. "I'm afraid I've missed out on a few key events you have brought up, things which I may need to know if I'm going to be of any assistance. First and foremost, you've metioned the return of the Sith...

...something which, as of my last memory, still had not occurred. I can only assume, based on what you are saying, that the Sith are now back...

...and that somehow this place played a part in their return since Roan saw it necessary to bring Kaminoan scientists here," he said, looking then to Rhua. "Do you know, and can you speak of, the reason which Roan brought you to this place? And..."

He trailed a moment, looking to Phalomir, "I have to agree with Rhua, we're going to have to lay all cards out on the table if we're going to survive here. So just what kind of powers do you have...?"

Pausing at that, Terrin cocked a brow at Phalomir for a long moment. Then he looked to the Kaminoan once more. "And Rhua," he then said, "If you had the courage to help Galen escape from Roan after seeing what he did to some of your Kaminoan friends with my own eyes back in a K'eel Doban laboratory...

"Lord Roan did not bring me to this place," he replied carefully.

"I came here quite willingly, entering through a strange blackness that I theorize to be a doorway between realities. Those realities being this place--" He waved a hand about himself.

"And the umiverse with which we are familiar, the one we call home. That is my theory, at least.

"But bring me here? No, I entered into this realm of my own device, seeking Galen who had somehow come here, I think, during the night of her disappearance. We were camping..."

Again he paused, shifting uncomfortably as memories began chasing each other back through time.

"We were camping on the rim of a great canyon we had stumbled upon while seeking water. For when we emerged from where Roan had held Galen prisoner, we found ourselves on a desert."

He paused again, considering.

"Whether that desert represents the environment of the entire planet, or merely a portion of it, yet remains to be seen. All I can tell you is that we found little to no life, and were having a terrible time eking out sustenance with which to keep ourselves alive. This canyon proved to be welcomed-- at first-- for we thought we would find water somewhere within it."

Phalomir sighed. He was not completely convinced as to Thoran’s sincerity, but the others at least needed to know some more.

“Very well,” he said. “I will tell you of my powers, as I understand them. I have innate Sith magic, not born of the normal skills used by the Sith. I am able to call upon my powers to do… well, practically whatever is needed. But the more power I use, the more I am drained of my immediate energy. Like using all of your strength to lift a very heavy object, or sprinting up a long hill, I need to rest and recharge after exertion.”

He looked directly at Thoran.

“I also somehow have the power of the Eye within me. It bestowed its ability to fend off certain effects of the All, although it did me no good against being sent here. I also can send my spirit away from my body, free to roam without bounds. That is how I was sent here without my body.”

He folded his arms and sat down on the rocky surface.

"If you can take on a horde of demons, seems like you should be able to find a way out of here," he opened with simply. "We know that All-users can get in and out of here freely, and you've stated that whatever power you have through this Eye thing draws off the power of the All...

...so that may be be a key to getting out of here."

At this Terrin paused, pursing his lips as he looked to Rhua once more, "And concerning why I asked you why you were brought here...

...I was referring to that other time you mentioned, the time when you said you'd been here with Roan. You did say that you too had been here before, after all..."

Once.

Whatever Rhua had experienced here with Roan...

...it must have been something horrid to evoke such a reaction. Still...

"Allright," Terrin then spoke aloud, "I can understand if you experienced something here with Roan that is painful to think of...

...but if and when it becomes something that may be important to getting out of here and finding Galen, I hope you will be willing to face it for her sake..."

He trailed a moment, glancing to Phalomir then Thoran. "And for the ahhh... good of the Galaxy if need be. "And about the possibility of us using your ability to channel All-power to get out of this place, Phalomir...

"It- it would have no bearing whatsoever on our situation, believe me," he finally managed in a hoarse voice.

“Unfortunately, the only time I’ve experienced this ‘channeling’ has been when an All user has been nearby. I discovered that the Eye had sort of a defensive trigger against the All, and also didn’t hesitate to draw freely upon All users when it needed power for something of its own devise. I ruined many an early chance with Jharmeen’s trust that way.”

He placed his head in his hands.

“What I do not understand is why the power of the Eye allowed Jharmeen to send my spirit here. Surely it could have sensed her actions, why did it not stop her? Unless, it meant for me to be here…”

He looked back to Thoran.

“But this is the guy,” Thoran continued, pointing to Rhua. “This is the man of the hour. It’s his misplaced sense of loyalty, his relentless curiosity, and his belief in pure science that will really help us out here. I love this guy! If he weren’t so darned fragile I’d give him a big hug.”

Thoran laughed and stood.

“But you’re not all that fragile, are you? You worked with Roan, did what he told you for a long time, didn’t you? Then when he disappeared on you, you turned on your own kind and helped a human subject escape. I admire that, I really do. Funny, though, that you chose HERE to be your sanctuary.”

He crouched and leaned on his haunches.

Being of a soundly logical mind, he rarely found himself in circumstances warranting such, and thus found the sensation annoying if not downright troubling to say the least. But facts in his life having been what they were, he simply could not help his reaction to Thoran’s direct questions, questions following so closely upon the heels of and so nearly mimicking Terrin’s.

So he fidgeted, debating with himself.

It really does not matter, Rhua, he told himself as he twined his long fingers about each other. What does it matter if you reveal what happened between you and Roan? Is that problematic?

No. Not that. But—

At length he sighed, and with a swallow found his voice.

“Roan came to Kamino some time ago seeking our assistance with some convoluted plan he had for gaining leadership over his people, or some such thing,” he finally began. He stopped a moment, glancing at his captive audience.

They looked totally engrossed, much to his chagrin. With another sigh, he continued.

“He wanted certain young children cloned, and other certain children physically advanced beyond their years… other children brought into being through our technologies when supplied with the, ahh… necessary ingredients...”

Another pause to fidget.

“And certain promises to the fact that particular individuals would not ever be able to bear children again.

”Ever.”

Suddenly it was as if he was a puppet whose strings had been cut. Before anyone could do anything, he flopped to the weird ground, his gaze turning inward as he read the hideousness he had been forced to experience.

Had been forced into doing.

“I—I was in second-in-charge of the cloning division of my particular stilt city; unfortunately for me, it was to our city that he came. I found his plans abhorrent, to put it mildly, and when I protested, rather than let my supervisor handle matters he—

“He—he brought me here, and he—“

He could go on no further. His head dropped and his shoulders vibrated quickly, up and down as, unable to hold the memories at bay, he gave into them and simply let them come. For a timeless moment he remained thus; at length he raised his head and faced them all, his eyes somehow more liquid in appearance than they had looked before.

He blinked, and looked from one to the other again.

“Do you realize that I am the only being of living flesh here?” he asked in perfect non sequiteur and then once again fell silent.

“Apparently you are somewhat lacking in the ability to logically deduce an answer from given data,” he said coldly, crossing his arms for emphasis.

“What happened here to me was personal, and has absolutely no bearing on us or our situation. I see no logical reason to disclose this painful information to you; you may think what you will of it.

“And as for what happened to Galen, well. Did I not just reveal that? Not merely her, but the child I was told was hers, another daughter with hair of flame, and there were two others, and finally yet another fully grown came under our tender auspices, although with that female we had difficulties. The techniques we employed would not readily hold; it took our greatest skills to ensure future infertility without reducing ourselves to anything so crude as surgical removal of various body parts.

“And even now I am not certain if the new technique would hold true. Only time will tell… but as for the others?

“Yes. My companion, Galen Jhin’Dar Danner, and four other young females as well, will most certainly never by natural means give birth to viable offspring.

Thoran stood, still looking up at the gangly Kaminoan.

“I wanted to hear you say it directly. No need for deducing that way. You see, I’ve had too many half-truths and misdirected nuances thrown my way, and by me, to rely on assumptions gleaned from emotional speeches.”

He took a step back, a twinkle in his eye.

“I wonder, was any work done on any of Galen’s siblings? Hehe, you don’t need to answer that for me, unless someone else here would be interested. But what do we do now, then? Now that we know who we are, and what we have done. How can we work together to get ourselves out of here?”

Four young females, unable to give birth by natural means...

...and Galen...

Whether to the notice of the others or not, Terrin shuddered.

Damn all the Sith Lords to Hell, playing God like that...

...and damn him for ever believing any of them, for ever trusting any of them...

..wait, a flame-haired girl too, one who was said to be Galen's child? But Darra was just a baby...

With effort, Terrin shook himself from these thoughts, his blue eyes yet remaining distant and perhaps somewhat haunted even as Thoran's final words registered in his ears.

"Perhaps the fact that some of us are not truly of this shadow realm can somehow play in our favor?"

He trailed once more, three damning words echoing in his mind.

Some of us...

...and which of them are you, Terrin Danner? By all your memories, you should still be alive...

...yet if this is so, what happened to those you were with here as of your last memory, for even Graysith was here at some point. They would not have left you behind...

“Well, maybe,” said Thoran. “Hey, here’s a thought, Darrin: DUH! There is one here that is flesh and blood, the rest of us are spirits. Cope!”

Terrin’s glare seemed to add to Thoran’s mirth.

“Oh, hey Rhua,” he smiled, “what does this goofy land and Galen have in common? Give up? They’re both barren!”

Thoran chuckled loudly, and stared at Terrin.

“Oh, sorry Darrin,” he said. “Maybe I should be talking about Jharmeen instead. Well, hey, Phal, at least you won’t need to make her take a pill.”

Phalomir stood, his eyes glowing a sharp red as he stared at Thoran.

“Please,” he finally opened with a little sniff. “Try to keep such useless observations to yourself. They certainly do not provide any impetus to our gaining exit from this realm, and only serve to heighten already escalated emotions.”

He cast a quick glance toward Phalomir and Terrin.

“Really,” he went on, laying a long finger aside his minute nose as if he was pondering deep thoughts. “This does seem to present a quandary. There are two of you who appear to be what most would consider a bona fide shade – I am truly sorry, Mr. Danner.”

He smiled a polite apology in case his comment would be misconstrued as a social gaffe, but did not bother to take in Thoran with that attempt at appeasement. Scientist he was indeed, not diplomat.

“And there is one who appears to have somehow been wrenched from his body, which remains yet – alive?”

He paused again, contemplating. Finally he seemed to come to some conclusion, and nodded.

“Interesting, but I really see no direction in which this can lead us, at least not as a group. I can see the benefit to each member personally; well, at least to the majority here.”

Now his smile seemed to shake just the tiniest. But directly on the heels of that thought came the fresh memory of his earlier discussion with Thoran; he firmed visibly, and straightened.

“Perhaps the shades amongst us will be effectual against those who likewise exist as spirits in this realm, while I, as living flesh, may be able to have greater impact in confrontation with this Master, whoever he might be. If he is yet living flesh, that is; of course this is all simply conjecture. I have no data upon which to base an hypothesis.”

He quieted a moment, then sighed.

“Unless your trek into the spiritual realms has heightened your paranormal capabilities, I am afraid I still see no way to exit from this place. I stumbled in through what I believe to be a rift, a doorway if you will; I am not certain in which direction that doorway lies, nor do I know if it opens in both directions.

“Yet if this Master is indeed here, as is claimed, and is indeed of flesh and blood, he would have had to enter via such a doorway, one would think. One would also deduce that he would more than likely hold knowledge of the means by which to escape this place; being Master here is rather inconsequential, don’t you think?

“I think we must actively seek this Master, whoever and wherever he is, and hope we find him and can somehow persuade him into showing us the doorway back into our own reality… erm.”

He paused briefly, fidgeting again for a moment, blinking.

Face it buddy, somewhere along the lines...

...you died. Don't know why you can't remember it...

...but then, perhaps, maybe you don't want to remember whatever happened...

He looked up to Rhua. "I have to agree," he then said, shaking himself from his thoughts once more. "If anyone is going to get out of here, finding someone that is capable of getting in and out of here is the only solution...

...that is, provided he is going to be willing to assist when the time comes."

Pausing at that, he arched an eyebrow at Phalomir, totally ignoring Thoran for the moment. "Your buddy over there said that the 'Master' wanted you alive and away from this place once; perhaps it's time we get moving and see if he will feel the same the second time around..."

“Before we determine exactly how we might be finding this person, we must remember one thing. That is, if what this worthy gentleman has divulged to us is indeed the truth.”

He waved offhandedly at Thoran, then continued.

“According to what he has stated, the Master is Phalomir’s father. Further, he has already tampered with the life of his son; while it would appear on the surface that said tampering might be resultant of a desire to gain whatever power it is he seeks, as well as to perhaps keep his son alive in some manner, we cannot of course be certain. I thus conclude that Phalomir’s presence here with us may prove catalytic to raising his ire; he was, after all, clearly not meant to be taken here at all… at least I don’t believe so. Which brings up another interesting point.”

Now cocked his head a bit to one side, his eyes narrowing as his scientist’s mind went into full-fledged analysis of all that had been said.

“I find your story interesting, Phalomir,” he began slowly. He blinked.

“If what you said is true, I can only believe that you were killed in the shuttle when your wife was taken by the Vong. Thus your body would be destroyed. However, there is a paradox here.

He rose up to his full height, and proceeded.

“If your body was destroyed on that shuttle, then what body is it you have recently departed from? Something was mentioned earlier about statues? An Eye of R’lous? Differing timelines??? If that is the case, then your body—the one belonging to the timeline in which all you stated has occurred, is indeed destroyed. Yet here you stand; what I am concerned about is how an obvious crossing over between timelines has been enacted? Where is the nexus, the gleeberfly waving its wings?

“Indeed, who are you, Phalomir? And along those lines, if there is question as to your existence and reality, then who is this Master, and to which timeline does he belong? You have some strange abilities I cannot understand without further study; can this paradox be somehow used to our advantage, exploited by the use of the magnified powers you state you have in this realm?”

He sighed then, and shook his head.

“We have studied the possibilites of time travel,” he finally stated. “While it is theoretically possible, that is on paper, certain variables arise which would prevent such from happening. Too many paradoxes would arise; the only thing we come close to is that if a timeline is to be intentionally altered by travelling through it, then that travel has to occur immediately upon the heels of the event sparking interest in said travel.

“I do not know the science behind it, if indeed it is science. What I have been able to deduce through what I have been told or shown does corroborate with much of what Thoran has stated -- snide remarks and attempts to raise my anger aside. I hesitate to say I believe him, but I cannot immediately discount everything he has said.”

Thoran looked to Phalomir and smiled smugly.

“I do not know precisely what happened with the Vong,” Phalomir continued, “but if I died then surely I would have memories of this place, or some other afterlife -- if that is we are indeed discussing. Is it?”

Phalomir did not wait for an answer.

“Ah, so you do need me. It feels nice to know that, really it does. You see, Phal, the Master is very powerful. The body you came back to was really yours, he plucked the flesh just as he did the spirit. Of course, in order for the ruse to work, he had to preserve your body in stone and set up a bit of magic to bring it back when you found it. He grabbed a likely candidate for me to pop into as well, and sealed us up in the Eye. And to think, a plot that spanned 4500 years just get you in a position where he could grab you and bring you here intact, everything going perfectly, and it was ruined by your unrelenting passion for one little human. And the best part is, she’s the one who betrayed you in the end!”

Thoran began to laugh. Soon he was giggling uncontrollably and fell over backwards, grabbing his sides. Soon he calmed enough to sit back up.

“But really, he hasn’t given up hope. He still needs you to be whole, you see, because the folks here don’t want you in spirit. They had to deal with that briefly… well, will have to deal with that… well… oh, hell, time works very strangely here. Sure, it’s linear, but it’s kind of on a sliding bar here. I think the Master has figured out how to work that slide somehow, at least to some small extent. But anyway, when you died, you were actually here for a little bit. You really did have some attitude in those days, and your desire for vengeance upon the Vong drove you to the top, my boy. But, like everything else in your life, just when you got to the peak you were torn away and thrown into something else. So, the big guys here do indeed want you, but they want you in the flesh, your spirit is a bit too much to deal with on its own.”

He let his smile fade, taking on a serious demeanor.

“That’s why I think we can get out of here. Phal, your father will want you back in your body. We just need to contact him somehow. He is probably out with Aelvedaar somewhere, so if we contact him then we might get lucky. And who in here has contact with Aelvy? Well, my little birdie tells me that it’s Roan. And who do we know here who has some unfinished business with Roan?”

Thoran looked nonchalantly to the Kaminoan.

"I have no 'unfinished business' with that one, as you so carefully imply, Thoran," he said stiffly, giving his head another shake for emphasis.

"What business I had with him was of the past, long satisfied; from the moment I overstepped his standing orders by assisting Galen from the prison she was in -- indeed, from the prison holding us both -- my business was concluded.

"There is only way I'd do any dealings whatsoever with slime such as Roan, and that would be if I was certain it would ensure the safety of Galen. And since we are talking about Roan..."

Terrin trailed as the flash of an image that even now didn't seem long enough ago spred across his mind's eye; the image of the love of his life fleeing from him in fear, her body battered and psyche wounded...

His eyes grew a shade darker as he continued. "...that's more than simply highly improbable. There is one more of us here, however, who has a link with one of these highly powerful Sith..."

Terrin's blues slowly panned to Thoran, then locked there. "...that is, if what he says is true. And after all, if the Eye seperated you from your Master so you could learn the truth...

...then eventually it'll put you back in contact with either the living realm or the Master himself so you can use that information..."

“Now, wait just a minute,” he said. “Are you implying that the Eye has some sinister motive in all of this? Brother, let me tell you about sinister! The Master, now that is sinister! Whatever link I had was severed by the Eye, and I don’t know how to get it back. In fact, I don’t want it back, ever. I’m through with that madman! He’s had me working for him for longer than I care to remember, and I’ve done some really awful things in his name.”

Thoran looked to Phalomir, genuine concern showing on his face.

“That’s not me, Phal. It never was, I just didn’t know it. Now I don’t know if I can talk to him again without him knowing.”

He looked back to Rhua.

"As I have already pointed out, I am the only one of this charming little quartet who is alive in the truest meaning of the word, and believe me I greatly wish to remain that way. Knowing Roan as I do--"

A brief pause to allow another shudder to spasm through his lanky body.

"I am quite positive he would be more than happy to alter that happy state of being.

"No, Thoran, I will not serve as bait in your dastardly plan. You speak beguiling words; how am I to know that you yourself are not in league with Roan through this Master, the father of our friend here, that is if what you said is really the truth."

“We shall use no-one as ‘bait’, Thoran,” he said. “If you are to be believed, then Rhua is indeed the only living person here, and I wish him to stay that way as well. I owe him much for the rescue of my sis—for my new friend Galen. Let us think rationally for a moment, instead of reactionary.”

Phalomir paused and scanned the area, making sure the wandering hordes had not discovered the group. The lack of movement on the horizon somehow did not ease him.

“What are our dilemmas? First, we are stranded in this strange realm, with no real notion of how to escape. Second, my lady – Jharmeen – is possibly controlled by some dark force, and thus Shayla and her friends could be in great danger. Third, we have evidence of a vast plot steered by three very powerful adversaries, with little hope of defeating them in our present state.”

He glanced around at the other three.

“Did I leave anything out?”

"Ideas on that, anyone? Or shall we just pick a direction at random and begin walking until either Roan or those demons find us?"

“I thought I just DID give a plan!” he exclaimed. “We got something Roan wants, I think. Let’s trade him for passage out of here.”

He looked to Rhua.

"The problem with it is that Rhua is alive, and I think it'd be beneficial for us to keep it that way. I agree with his theory; actively seeking the Master seems the most plausible plan to me. This way, perhaps Rhua can at least get himself out of here...

...and meanwhile those of us who are..."

He paused, hesitating, "... shades can deal with the afterlife characters here, in order to protect Rhua. Still, actively seeking the Master relies on us having some direction in which to find him..."

Terrin paused once more, his blue eyes wandering to Thoran, "...and as I've mentioned before, at least one of us has a connection..."

Here he glanced to Phalomir, "...if not two of us. It's worth a shot if it means getting those who belong in the living realm out of here so they can help Galen and Graysith..."

Terrin eyes moved back to Thoran, "...and the Universe, as you put it yourself."

Thoran threw his head back and growled at the strange sky, letting his exasperation speak for itself. He set his face in a stony sneer and looked at the surrounding mountains.

“Fine,” he said. “You rational people discuss this then and let me know when you’re ready. I’ll just be over that way looking for the Master. But I’m telling you, he is not here. Only Roan is here.”

He began walking to a group of larger rocks, then paused and turned.

"I still do not know whether or not we can fully trust that one, but there is one way to find out if at least some of what he says is the truth."

Now he focused his large, limpid eyes blackly upon Phalomir's intense green ones.

"You stated you have some sort of power, and indeed, you are a Sith Lord, in fact a Dark Lord of the Armorer clan. You also stated the aforementioned power appears to be somehow enhanced here within this realm; would it be too presumptuous of me to kindly request you utilize said Sithly powers, and try to determine if in fact the Master... er, your father is here or not?"

“The power I spoke of involved my ability to separate my consciousness from my physical body… I do not know if I could do this in my present state.”

He waited, looking to Rhua. The Kaminoan’s expression did not alter.

“But of course, I will try.”

Phalomir closed his eyes and let his mind fall out of focus, like so many times in the recent past. He did not have to wait long for the familiar feeling of weightlessness to come to him. He opened his eyes amid the gasps of those around him, and saw their shocked faces rapidly retreating.

Phalomir soared into the sky, leaving the Rhua and Terrin gaping. Thoran turned to look up and applauded. Phalomir concentrated on stopping, and paused in mid-air.

Then-

"Interesting," he said in a somewhat hoarse tone of voice. "Carry on, indeed, please do."

What does this tell me? Phalomir thought. Even though I appear to be in a solid form here, it is still only my spirit. My body remains somewhere… out there.

Phalomir floated higher in order to take a glimpse above the high, rocky hill that rose beside them. He slowed himself as he reached the top, and as his brow broke over the rocky ledge he came eye to eye with the beast of the pit himself.

Phalomir’s eyes widened, as did Roan’s.

"I see you have managed to take something not belonging to you, Lord," he spat, rearing back a bit and folding his arms upon his chest. A quick flick of his eyes to the side let Phalomir know he was fully aware of the presence of the others; slowly and deliberately then, he spat upon the ground directly beneath the floating Phalomir's feet.

"You might be carrying the High Mark of the Armorers, but you will gain nothing other than that, this I can promise you," he said before finishing in a somewhat more oblique manner.

"Especially when it comes to... her."

He paused, still smiling, tapping one claw idly upon the tensed muscle of one forearm.

“Greetings to you as well, Lord Roan,” he said flatly. “This mark was bestowed upon me legitimately and through honor, and my life with her should be no concern of yours.”

Phalomir furrowed his brow slightly.

Roan reared back in distaste, and spat once more.

"What do you know of honor? By the very Mark you carry, in tandem with your comment regarding your supposed life with her you prove you have no honor within you. Think you I have no knowledge of what it means to bear the Tattoo of the Armorers? Did you think I have forgotten my dear brother Rean?

"Have you told her of these things?"

Roan smiled when he saw the look he did rising in Phalomir's green eyes.

"Oh of course not, no. That would quite ruin your chances with her now, wouldn't it?"

He paused then, and simply stared at the floating Sith Lord while a small eternity passed between them. Then--

"What interests I may have are my own affairs, pretender," he finally snarled. "I need not spill them out as easily as the blood within your veins soon shall be--

“And as for her, let us refer to my love by her name. Jharmeen may be under the dark spell of some sinister ally of yours, but she will persevere, with or without me. I have never lied to her, nor shall I ever. Should she ask anything of me, I would offer it without hesitation. She loves whom she chooses, and…”

Phalomir paused, the fire subsiding a small amount. A stray thought crossed his mind, and now fanned the flames of curiosity within him.

What is he doing up there? he wondered to himself as he leaned backward, straining to hear what was going on. That the Sith lord was speaking to someone had not gone unnoticed; Rhua’s keen eye easily captured the movement of Phalomir’s lips as he spoke to someone who was standing back from the lip of the outcrop, hidden from view to those below. Blinking, Rhua cupped his hand alongside his head, striving to catch the slightest sounds that might waft down from above. But to no avail; the conversation going on over his head remained as much a mystery as did the person involving Phalomir in it.

At length he decided enough time had passed in such things.

...who might help them along in their quest? What other reason would he have to stop and speak with someone anyway?

Terrin frowned to himself then looked to Rhua, who was still looking towards Phalomir expectantly. "Maybe he's found someone else stuck in this dismal place," he observed.

“Your silence is most revealing, Dark Lord,” he said, ignoring the calls from below. “But surely, there must be some agreement we can reach? Do you wish only to obtain revenge for some injustice done to you while you were living? Or do you seek more than that?”

Phalomir’s smile faded.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” he said.

He watched intently as Phalomir’s lips formed words, and Thoran applied the skills he learned over many years.

Roan? Phalomir was speaking with Roan; whatever could they be conversing about, taking as long as they were up there.

That question brought an errant thought tagging along, not much of a realization, but enough to perhaps raise some suspicions.

Wouldn't Phalomir have long left Roan, if indeed it was he to whom he was speaking, rather than go on and on about whatever it was they were speaking of? Unless--

Another shudder hit the scientist, and he turned to Terrin, then to Thoran. He opened his mouth to speak-- and stopped.

He was flesh, the only being of flesh and blood in this loathesome place. All others, as already defined, were shades of one manner or another. He wondered if one's thinking processes survived the trek from the corporeal into that of ghostliness; would they all stick together, like adhering to like?

The scientist in him scoffed at such silliness. Yet something persisted in eating at him.

Phalomir was certainly taking his sweet time talking up there.

A decision was made.

"Phalomir," he called up carefully. "Is it Roan with whom you are speaking? If so, do you feel this is wise?"

He shut his mouth at the absurdity of his own query. Of course it wasn't wise, but there really wasn't anything he could do about it. If Shades ruled this place between universes, then he was at their complete mercy. It really didn't matter how long Phalomir took in speaking with Roan; in fact, now that he thought of it, the longer the better.

All the better to keep Roan's attention away from me... and the fact that it is Galen we are after...

He stiffened as cartesian logic burst through him.

He certainly would know that he, Rhua Ki, had assisted Galen in her escape. It was inescapable, if only by the fact of his calling out to Phalomir about her mere moments ago.

He sighed again, and shot a dark look to Terrin, and then back to Thoran, all the while letting one hand drift to the weapon he kept hidden in his clothing.

How in all the universe does one destroy what doesn't exist? he couldn't help but wonder as he struggled to keep himself from running away from the group, telling himself over and over in a mantra of survival that the only weapon any shade could use against him was fear, and fear was nothing but a product of his own mind.

“In the near future,” he said to Roan, “when you are ready to speak, my Lord, perhaps we shall have much to talk about. In the meantime, ask Aelvedaar if he is truly aware of his progeny. If you will excuse me, I must attend to impatient companions.”

Phalomir slowly drifted downwards, watching Roan as he descended. Roan simply watched Phalomir descend, and when he was out of Roan’s line sight, he descended quickly to his waiting companions.

Phalomir smiled to the wide-eyed group.

“Roan has been watching us,” he said. “I believe he will continue to do so for some time, until he decides to either talk to me or blast us into oblivion. For now, we must be patient and continue to seek the Valley.”

Patience, he thought to himself. You speak it so well, yet find it difficult to maintain, Phalomir. My dear lady, my thoughts are focused upon you. I shall find you, please be safe.

Terrin frowned. "The valley?" he queried. "What the kriffing hell are you talking about? I thought we were looking for someone to help us get out of this place so we could get to Galen."

He paused a moment, the look in his eye clouding with suspicion. "What were you talking to him about anyway? He may be dead and stuck here in this wretched place, but he obviously still has a link elsewhere...

... and he was the last person we saw my wife with. Not to mention we are all still stuck here with him, dead or alive. Rhua brought up a pertinent question which you left unanswered: do you honestly think it was a wise decision to stop and speak with him when we should be doing everything in our power to find a realistic way out of this place? Roan is a snake, he is not to be trusted...

... ever."

Quieting a moment at this, Terrin simply glowered at Phalomir, then glancing at Rhua and Thoran. Terrin couldn't help but note the faint traces of suspicion deep in the Kaminoan's eyes.

Terrin definitely couldn't say that he blamed him.

"Perhaps we do not all have the same interests at heart, and should split up. My vows might have said til death do we part," he continued, cutting a look Thoran's way, "But no matter what my status is my wife still comes first...

“I do no intend to trust Roan,” he said. “I intend to do just the opposite, but use it to our advantage. He wants something of us still, or else he would have tried to destroy us by now. Unless, of course, he lacks the power, but I do not believe that. He mentioned something of Jharmeen, in the same breath as he told of some impending harm which is to become of my body. This leads me to believe that she is still under the control of whatever he or Aelvedaar sent to her, and makes me even more anxious to escape.”

He looked directly into Terrin’s eyes.

“Like you, I would do nearly anything to save my lady. I do not doubt that in you, never doubt that in me.”

He turned to Rhua.

“Fascinating,” he stated, nodding his approval. “Quite fascinating; I have wondered as to the physicality of psychic connections. Indeed, all our studies and tests have proven of no avail in defining a carrier particle for such things; by all rights this should be something quite impossible, you see, as…”

He would have gone on and on, tripped into scholarly mode, if he hadn’t happened to have turned and directed his last statement to Terrin. The look in Terrin’s eyes was enough to stop an SSD in full-blown attack mode; Rhua snipped off his oratory in mid-thought and gulped.

“Ahh—yes, that would be a quite satisfactory test, indeed it would,” he finished, turning back to Phalomir with a nod. One slim hand flew up and wiped his brow; then he stood tall and firm before the Sith lord and drew in another deep breath.

“Is there anything in particular I should do to assist you?” he asked before falling silent, waiting.

Shayla found herself falling gracefully downward amidst a dusky-like sky minus any sun or moon or stars. At length, she final stopped descending, however, falling on her haunches on some sort of strangely textured ground. A chill swept over her as she made contact, and it was as if the very scent of something...

... death ...

...pervaded the very air she was now breathing. For a moment Shayla shuddered at the impact of it all, and then she shook it all off and focused herself once more on the task at hand. Even as her eyes adjusted to the dimness of her surroundings, Shayla got to her feet, her hand yet on top of the Eye.

She remained utterly calm, utterly focused.

“No,” he replied, “just remain calm and try not to be startled when I touch you.”

Phalomir gently placed his hands upon Rhua’s head and let his powers flow. Phalomir took in all he could about the flesh, memorizing the feel of the muscles, the warmth of the cells, the essence of life as millions of chemical reactions chained throughout the organism before him. It was if he had ever felt before what it is meant to be alive, and he relished in the experience, longing to return to this feeling in his own body.

He released his light grip and smiled. He took step backwards, closed his eyes, and threw his arms outward, letting his power flow outward through the strange air around him. He once again felt the presence of Rhua, then let this power extend outwards in a circle. He felt the energies of the others around him, but he could clearly see the difference in their presence, and continued to expand his power.

He let his feelings go, taking in all of the pseudo-life energies in the area, balking slightly at the dark presence he knew must be Roan, but he did not dwell there. Soon he had swept through the surrounding area, and let his power extend even more. He came across the strange energies of demons, of imps, and many other dark beings. He shivered slightly when he realized that his scans were not going unnoticed

But there, he felt it. Life! Different slightly from the Kaminoan, but life nonetheless. He fixed a bearing on it opened his eyes.

“I think I have located her,” he said. “We must hurry, for I fear my search may have drawn the attention of some of the beings that dwell here.”

Phalomir turned and began walking towards the rocks that marked the passage between the two bluffs they now stood under.

They are denizens and you are not...

So whomever would be seeking her out, whether dark or light, would be a resident of this place...

...which greatly reduced those she should sense out for with her Force abilities. And she would have to have a target for her search in order to find anyone or anything here, for she could already sense the wealth of life...

... or was it non-life?...

...here. The first person Shayla wanted to sense out for was the very person they had been seeking out for quite some time...

...although she sincerely hoped she would not find her here. And given that the Eye said those here who needed her were already seeking her themselves she doubted Galen was one of those. After all, the two women had never gotten along well to say the very least. Even so, Shayla still had to try. Closing her eyes, Shayla stretched out with the Force, sensing and searching for Galen's Force signature...

...and came up with absolutely nothing.

So then, who would be here other than Galen? Shayla had to ask herself. Who would seek her out who would be residing in this place?

At this thought, the Force nudged her, prompting her to remember the item which she still had hidden, which her hand rested above. And that set her mind to spinning.

Phalomir's body was alive, somewhere...

...but his essence had been strangely seperated from it. And if the Eye would want anyone to find her in this place...

...and more specifically to find it, Shayla knew Phalomir would be the one.

With her eyes still closed then, Shayla stretched out through the Force once more, seeking Phalomir's Force signature, for all she would need to find him was his Force essence, not his physical body. Her search took quite some time, but resulted in success.

Opening her eyes, Shayla knew in which path she should head, although she did not know how long her journey might be. And after all, this place probably did not operate according to the laws of time and distance established in her own Universe. That very thought pressed her feet further along as she began to move, drawing the Force around herself as a safety blanket.

I'm on my way to Phalomir, she thought then to the Eye, her greeny-blues growing more determined with every step.

Golden-greenness flashed from his very pores as he lifted his hands to that non-sky arching about him. His great claws stretched out, then brought blood in shining rivulets as he closed his fists so hard his own flesh was pierced. It was then that an inhuman smile came across his face; it was the anger at the atrocity Phalomir was performing upon him that gave him the strength to use the All from the grave.

”My friends, there is feasting to be had!” he cried out in a great roar, shaking his fists in fury. ”Go out and find it, for there is life in this place that has no right to be here!”

He threw his head back, his face strangely illuminated by the sudden flare of electricity that came from nowhere in this place that was not, and opened his mouth that it could come satiate his hungers. But before he lost himself fully to that shuddery bliss, he paused to reach out with his own talents.

He smiled, then let the light come ravage his soul…

While all about, coming from the shadows, seeming to be a part of those shadows, shadows walking, ones unconquerable and omnipotent, there came the patient thrum of a million marching feet, a thrum interspersed with screeches and yowls and drooling, gibbering cries of delight.

The demons were marching, by the millions; eager for prey, they marched all the faster, the smell of live blood an enticement no power in any dimension could overcome…

And three of them marched even faster, slavering and laughing, their foul claws reaching out to the sudden whirling vortex that appeared before them. They entered in without a moment’s hesitation, their scorpion’s tails lashing and dripping venom.

The vortex into another reality closed with the snap of a predator’s jaws, and in its wake the myriad demonic throng closed in on a certain little party of Sith and Kaminoan and human and something not quite of any race…

They had scarcely travelled half a kilometer -- if indeed linear travel in this place could be measured by anything as mundane as the metric system -- when he jerked to a halt. His arm shot out simultaneously and took Phalomir by the shoulder, bringing him to a halt as well. Behind him the tromp of following footsteps halted as the others in their little party came to a somewhat nervous stop.

...and he didn't have a very good feeling about that, to say the least. He furrowed his brow, looking in the distance...

...and noting that something was out there, moving. And he could swear he heard something that sounded distinctly like manic laughter and gibbering...

"Oh kriffing hell, Sith demons," he growled under his breath, simultaneously remembering feelings and images of what one of these crestures could do. "Why do I have the suspicion we might be on the right track?" Then he directed a sidelong glance to Phalomir. "Better think of something quick, or we are all gonna be dead..."

“Here, we are all dead,” he ground out through clenched teeth. “Do not touch me… I may not be able to control it…”

Phalomir strode away from the group, walking quickly to the foot of the hill before them. He lost no pace and bound up the incline, pausing at the top to survey the terror before him. Stretching out as far as he could see was a gibbering mass of claws, teeth, and black limbs flinging wildly as they propelled the strange spiked bodies closer. On the other side of the hill, running desperately, was the figure of a woman. She was keeping a good distance from the first of the horrors, but she would not make it to him before they overtook her.

He’s opening a portal out of here, thought Thoran. He glanced back up to see his companions reach Phalomir the top of the top of hill, only to see the Sith lord yell an obscenity and dash off down the other side. Is all some sort of diversion? A strange, unfamiliar feeling of uncertainty crept over him, a feeling so alien to him he immediately squelched it. Oh, damn this freedom, anyway!

Thoran took off at full speed towards Roan. He had learned long ago how to manipulate the spring of this strange terrain, and half of the distance was covered by the time the bright yellow sliver had grown into a large circle. He reached the top of the hill just as the last of the demons stepped through the circle, and with all of his strength and momentum he ran full force into Roan. Taken off guard, Roan stumbled backwards a few steps and lost his balance for a moment. Thoran was knocked to the ground at the place of impact, but gained his bearings enough to see the sight beyond the portal.

It’s Phalomir’s body! And Graysith? She doesn’t look possessed. What the—

A savage snarl came from the area where Roan had staggered, and Thoran forced himself to action. He yelled out an earsplitting cry of “Phalomir!” towards the other hill, and dove for the opening. He aimed for the space between two of the imps, meaning to land on top of Phalomir’s body.

But Thoran was a shade. His body had been taken from him long ago when he first became a denizen of the Darker Realms. When he met the Master and became a servant of the Darker Realms, he was given the ability to project himself into the bodies of others, either tagging along or completely swapping his consciousness with the hapless victim’s spirit. He had resided in the mind of Panthar Dantares with Phalomir’s spirit for quite some time, and it was this thought that entered Thoran’s mind as he landed on top of Phalomir and merged into his body.

Phalomir’s eyes snapped open and he jumped to his feet as smoothly as a well-trained warrior. Outwardly, Phalomir assumed a battle stance, claws bared and horns lowered, eyes blazing. Inwardly, Thoran relished in the control of this massive body. Thoran’s own magick was nothing compared to Phalomir’s, but his warrior training would serve well in this huge Sith.

“Be ready, my lady,” he said, smiling inwardly. Those words sound even more corny when I say them.

He smiled grimly at the confused demons and waved a single curled finger at them, inviting them to close.

...broke loose. A great wave of something caused a chill to overcome her, so she froze in place, her greeny-blue eys widening even as the non-horizon began to move and groan...

...no, not groan. Laugh. Shayla shuddered, even as she began to note a great many beady pairs of red-pinpricks shining in the dimness of this place. Without a doubt, she knew what was coming. And judging by the tremor of the Force weighing upon her soul, Shayla knew at least some of them were coming this way. And it was true, the laughter was growing louder by the second.

Dear gods, help me! she thought to the Eye even as she took off running, knowing there really wasn't any place to run to. This would just delay the enivitable...

Even as she thought just that, the Eye glowed its soft red briefly before quieting once more. Shayla was barely aware of this...

...but then she saw another form running towards her, one not like the probable hoarde of Sith demons behind her. They were getting closer...

...and perhaps whatever was ahead of her was her only escape route. She stretched out with the Force to touch the mind of whomever was in front of her, for certainly she could sense the sentience...

...and with a start realized just who it was.

"Phalomir!" she called out, knowing her voice was probably all but drowned out by the gibbering imps behind her, using all her will to keep her feet going.

Her thoughts veered along with her feet as she followed the instructions of the Eye. Time for the sacrifice...

...the sacrifice...

As she continued to move, Shayla could begin to make out the image of a Sith on the next hill over. And even as she did so, a chill rose up her spine and crawled back down it, her keen Force-senses picking up on the unmistakable feeling of evil. As she enhanced her vision to better see whatever evil she was approaching she caught a pair of glistening turquoise eyes...

...and it was then that she knew his identity.

Do not fear what you see...

With effort, Shayla gathered her wits about her, totally in the dark as to what was about to take place.

I am ready, she thought then to the Eye, also recalling things which this Dark being had done to Graysith and others she called her friends, But I hope to the fates that the payoff will be worth it, cause I'd sure like to settle a score or two...

So, she too has come…

The thought trailed in flashing back to earlier days spent in Phrinnchatka, days in which he had won the heart of the Chosen One, and thought he had likewise won over the simple mind of her Adept as well.

Whether in rescue or in vengeance, the error has been made. So be it.

Now he lowered his head, staring daggers straight into her eyes from beneath beetling brows, his fangs glistening suggestively in the non-light of this strange and improbable dimension. She seemed to hold no fear, but kept her course, although she did seem to slow her pace somewhat.

Roan didn’t give her the time to get any closer. With predatory swiftness he lifted his head and spread out his arms, claws reaching to the sky. A roar borne of dark hungers satisfied issued from his lips, and in that issuance somewhere something young and innocent died.

That horrible call was met by the screech of a thousand gibbering tongues. In a body, a great mass of demons broke off from the remainder, and rushed toward Shayla’s position. As they came closer they separated into three parts, enclosing her on three different sides. The only way for her to continue was directly toward the laughing Dark Lord…

Suddenly, without any warning, an inky vortex popped into being directly between her and Roan. Behind her the demons closed in, their poisonous tails lashing and dripping, their eager hands reaching, their slime-ridden throats bursting with nonsensical utterances and choking slobbers.

Roan nodded towards Shayla, and smiled….

Phalomir lifted his hand and sent a fiery blast through the center column of imps, turning many instantly to cinder and leaving many more burning and howling. The flanking demons roared in rage, and instead of breaking they intensified their running. Phalomir opened his palms and the fire changed into a blinding red light that cut through the ranks of imps.

The group on the right appeared to be breaking as a great number of the demons turned to run. The remainder in front of him had fallen victim to the still bubbling tar, blocking the advance of those behind. The ranks on the left were climbing over the torsos and limbs of the forward imps. Phalomir looked past the immediate advance and saw even more of the demons on the horizon. The power within him still flared, but he could feel it faltering. He used the brief respite to glance behind, checking on his comrades.

He sucked in a quick breath as he discovered where the fleeing imps had gone.

And that Shayla had earned the attention of Roan.

He turned and darted up the hill, eyes flashing red as the remainder of his power surge into his hands.

But it wouldn't be the beginning of the end, she thought with determination. This was part of her destiny, her true potential...

...true potential...

Taking one deep breath, Shayla simply stepped into the vortex in front of her, two silent requests sliding from her mind to the Eye.

Be true to what you've promised me...

...and make whatever whammy you can deal to this foul creature a damn good one...

His eyes went to the gleaming Roan, and broke loose at full speed in his direction. Mindless of the imps that turned to threaten him, his hands seemed to work independently of his mind as they shot hot tendrils of energy forward, clearing a narrow path for Phalomir to run through. Any imp that stood to halt Phalomir was cut down.

Phalomir made his way through the imps, eyes fixed on the still smiling Roan. As he drew within a close range, he raised his hand to deliver one final blast of energy at the dark being, but a small trickle of light was the only thing that issued forth.

Phalomir cursed, his face flushing. He bared his teeth and, though nearly exhausted, prepared for combat…

They whirled and gibbered, a darkly noisome blot on the face of existence, crying out to him and bewailing their perceived loss. He merely let his smile soften a degree, and shook his great horned head.

“It is finished; we have them,” he said at length, but that briefly uttered observance was not issued toward the writhing mass of imps. His eyes darkened to deep aqua as he then slid his attention to the remainder of the little group standing in the distance.

Then he spoke to the demons.

“At your discretion, my pets,” he finished, nodding toward the human shade and the horribly yet-living Kaminoan scientist. His gleaming eyes took in the struggles of the approaching Phalomir; spit flung from him as he snarled in warning to him.

To murder…

Phalomir paused. Yes, he wanted to kill. Not for revenge, not for gain, but for the pure satisfaction of taking the life of another. Was this what he had become? Was this the price of power?

He stepped backwards, letting his hands drop to his sides. He could hear the massing demons behind him and turned to face them.

On and on they stretched, more imps marching from the hills in the distance. A large group had massed between him and his companions, and seemed ready to move in. With a grim determination he reached inward for a last surge of power. But instead of blasting the imps with fiery death, he merely took to the air in a magick-assisted jump. He soared over the mass of demons and landed on the hilltop near Rhua Ki and Terrin.

He turned to face them.

“Better to die with friends,” he said. He glanced around the hill, looking for something.

“Ah—Phalomir,” Rhua whispered, taking a sidling step closer now. “What exactly did you mean by that comment, ‘dying with your friends?’ You do realize that I am the only thing of flesh and blood here – at least we think that I am! – and if anyone is going to die, it would probably be me. That is a perfectly logical conclusion based upon the evidence before us.

“Now—“

He paused, drawing in a deep breath as he slid one pale hand into his clothing. When he pulled it out again, it held a strange-looking weapon.

“As I was debating with our friend Thoran – who, by the way, seems to have disappeared into yet another serendipitously placed vortex to who-knows-where, chasing studiously upon the tail of three of those horrid demons -- I do believe that for the most part, the only means by which a shade may make an impact upon living flesh is through the mind. Venom-bearing demons are quite another matter altogether.”

He turned to Phalomir.

“I will be honest in saying that, while I have pledged myself to assisting you in finding Galen, I do not wish to die. You are Sith, and Sith bear magick within them I do not understand.

“I suggest you continue to use it. Your leap was most impressive; can you not take us in such a manner far from here?”

He sidled around Phalomir’s bulking frame until he was back-to-back with him. Crouching then, weapon held at the ready, he eyed the slobbering demons, waiting for what he was certain to be nothing other than death.

He hoped it would at least come quickly.

...but a second death was simply not an option, not with Galen's whereabouts still unknown. There simply had to be a way out of this mess...

...if only he could think of it. And about that time, something crossed his mind. He stepped in next to Phalomir and Rhua Ki.

"You know, if you can't use your abilities to get us all away from these demons," he started, "Could we use the fact that we are both spirits to protect Rhua, and keep him living?"

“Yes,” he said somberly. “That is our charge. He braved his life to follow Galen into this realm, let us return this tenfold to him.”

Phalomir looked out over the advancing imps, rows upon rows of demons. Crazed with bloodlust, they clambered atop one another and jockeyed for position to be the first to rend the targets of Roan’s wrath. Phalomir looked to the distance at the hills, momentarily free of imps.

“I shall try to get us to those hills. If my powers hold, we should have an escape route before us. If not… Terrin Danner, Rhua Ki, it has been an honor to have known you.”

He spread his arms outward and motioned for them to step to him.

“We’ll need to be touching.”

He closed his eyes and tried to gather his magick. It had indeed been depleted in his vengeful attacks upon the imps, and he felt little if any power jumping to his command. He opened his eyes again and looked once more to the hills, the distance seeming now even greater than before as the grounds between here and there swarmed with death. At least the end would be quick.

“I believe we’ll make it,” he said, trying more to reassure himself.

He concentrated on the hills once again, preparing to jump. Suddenly the air in front of him shimmered and a strange crescent-shaped opening appeared in the space above the ground. He paused, exasperated, preparing himself for even more dangers.

A strangely glowing form floated through the opening. The features reminded him of… Thoran? He appeared to be in pain, held by a force emanating from the person behind him…

Graysith paused momentarily on the threshold of that eerie portal, blinking in surprise, actually going so far as to turn her gaze back and forth between the joyous Sith in front of her, and the slumbering one she towed behind.

They were one and the same.

Then she gathered her wits, and finished stepping through, now casting a quick glance all about the little party and taking in the closing horde with not a little consternation. Her eyes returned to Phalomir’s spirit.

“This, I take it, is yours,” she said calmly enough, stepping to the side so Phalomir could see that which she had brought with her. “As well as… that.”

Her other hand made a slight motion, bringing Thoran whimpering to his knees. In response, the approaching demons howled in what might be construed as coincidental outrage…

Or merely a renewal of their hungers.

She smiled grimly, looked about further yet.

“I suggest you do whatever it is you need to do, my friend, that we might hasten from this place before we are all transformed into dinner for those horrid beasts beyond.”

She nodded her head toward them, the Glyph blasting into their midst with affronted and wondrous light, momentarily driving the forward ranks into a stumbling, screeching halt. Those following closely behind trampled over them, slicing and yowling, then they too were held momentarily transfixed by that blinding light emanating from her brow.

“Hurry; I don’t know if I can hold them all off for any great length of time; while they do not appear to enjoy the Light, and I relish showing it to them, it is rather tiring for me to keep this up….”

Another grim flicker of a smile; then she caught sight of Terrin Danner, who was looking at her somewhat strangely.

“Do I know you?” she asked in a somewhat strained voice, then quieted so as to concentrate fully upon keeping the approaching demons at bay.

But what about returning to his body… that was the immediate issue. The way he left it in the first place was by using his powers and letting his spirit drift, so perhaps returning to it would mean simply reversing the procedure. But how did he do that? The strain of the past few hours had taken its toll on his thought process, and it has become difficult to let his mind do its “thing”. He closed his eyes and tried to relax, thinking of how he would simply let his spirit wander back it is proper place…

Phalomir opened his eyes, immediately feeling the disorientation of displacement. He stood, looking at a startled Terrin and Rhua who were both peering into the empty space between them as if something had suddenly vanished. Phalomir felt a rush of power return to him as his spirit reconnected itself to his body and drew from it reserve energies. He stepped to Graysith and stood next to her, holding a hand up towards the struggling demons.

“Let us depart, my love,” he said to her. “After I leave a parting gift for our friends.”

He let loose with blast of energy that ripped into the ground before the demons. It sent chunks of strange rock flying into the foreword ranks and caused even more hesitation in the imps.

“I do not know much of what you speak--"

She trailed momentarily, a chill running up and down her spine to hear the name of her beloved Sire spoken as such and in the same breath as the mysterious and ominous Master.

"...but if you deem it important, then so be it. I would not leave anyone trapped in this dismal place; all shall return with me to the ship I have left behind. However, this one is spirit; how shall he be incorporated with us?”

Letting the Glyph remain brilliant in defense of their little group, she then smiled as through that immense power she felt the surge of emotions her words had produced in all: the tangible relief flowing from the tall Kaminoan, who was standing off to one side in quiet surprise, the surging joy bursting from the renewed and quite powerful Sith, the ambivalent mix of relief and worry coming from the yet-energy entrapped Thoran…

All joined with a soul-wrenching sadness that jerked forth from Terrin Danner like a hooked fish from a pond.

She frowned, managed to cock her head.

“Is there something amiss?” she asked quietly, readying herself then for the simultaneous drop of the Glyph’s protective fires, and the production of a portal that would take them back to the warship.

“No!” he shouted, straining against the energy around him. “Not the ship!”

Phalomir glanced to Thoran, a quizzical look upon his face.

"It's just..." He paused a moment, struggling for words. "Well, I was still hoping that it simply wasn't true and that somehow I was still alive."

Trailing once more, his blue eyes defocused, pain filling them. "I wish I knew what happened," he continued, his eyes remaining vague for a second longer. Then they suddenly snapped alert as his gaze fell into Graysith's violet one. "But then, you would have been one I might have thought knew that. After all, I was married to your sister, had a blood oath with you and lived in Prinn'chatka with you and others for quite some time. Why is it that you do not know me?" he queried then, arching an eyebrow. Then, his thoughts shifting once more, his blue eyes darkened a shade. "And how am I going to help save Galen from that hell-spawned Roan, who led her to believe that she traded her life in exchange for mine...?"

“My Lady,” he called out. “Thoran speaks of a chronatic shield around your ship, perhaps placed there by Aelvedaar. If this is true, should we not return to the temple on K’eel Doba?”

Graysith smiled grimly, beads of sweat beginning to pop up on her brow.

“Yes-ss…” she whispered at length, but whether to herself or the softly spoken voice or in reply to the towering Sith or the shout of warning from the shade, or the billowing pain leaping forth from Terrin, she didn’t know. All she did realize, perhaps on some unconscious level, was that the thing at her side had so far proven true to her.

Now was the time for ultimate trust.

She raised her head.

She dropped the protective forces she had been using, allowing the Glyph to settle down into its usual brilliancy.

She snatched the mysterious device at her side, unleashing it smoothly from her thrimm, and took hold of it with both hands.

Taking a deep breath, she held it aloft….

So, Ghost, you refused me once. Now you shall see the power that you let pass. And you shall supply the source of energy.

A bright red thin beam shot from the one of the crystals at the tip of the device, driving itself deeply into Phalomir’s side. He immediately stiffened, his arms going to his side and eyes rolling back into his head. The device hummed loudly, then sent a surge of Sith magickal power into Graysith.

Graysith flung back her head as a sudden rush of powerful Sith energies overwhelmed her, flowing upward from the channeler into her arm to then cascade through every inch of her body. The Glyph on her forehead burst into a brilliance she had never before experienced, sending such radiant slices into the eyes of the others that they had to raise their hands before its fierce light, squinting. Her hair raised up of its own accord, billowing out about her head like living flame only to roil and writhe about as if in the clutches of some unseen wind.

She stood motionless for a heartbeat, wallowing in the luxury of the sheer forces at her command…

And then she used them.

The movement as swift as a striking dianoga, she flung the Claw-bearing hand out to one side of her, parallel to the non-ground beneath her feet. That hand fisted, with only the Claw of S’slan remaining pointed outward like the awful finger of some wrathful god. She closed her eyes then, and words she did not even know she knew burst forth from her lips, flinging out and echoing about the rolling, noisome mass of demons, each syllable pushing against them, forcing them to whine and howl and screech all the more horribly as they battled and tumbled about with each other.

Then something reminiscent of the fiery birth of the universe itself exploded from her in a great and unstoppable wave as she moved her arm back and forth in a great, sweeping arc.

That awful wave flashed out in all directions like a hell-born tsunami, gaining impetus with each centimeter it traveled, each wavelength growing in amplitude while shortening in length until they all seemed to bond together, making the very air ripple with a strange and fearsome charge. It bore inexorably over the yowling demonic horde, covering them, seeping into them, absorbing them as it moved outward and outward toward unguessable distances lost in shadows beyond comprehension.

And when at last it disappeared from the group’s straining, squinting eyes…

So had the demons.

Every last one of them.

Graysith shuddered as those wondrously hideous energies quite abruptly reappeared and flowed backward into her, impacting her body, traveling then along her arm into her hand, following the sleek lines of the Claw until they finally sank back into the channeler from whence they had come.

The Glyph on her forehead dimmed to normalcy.

She fell to the ground with a loud groan as from somewhere behind them a particular Dark Lord of the Sith let loose a bellow of rage.

The Lady’s hunger was great, her need for power almost equal to the spirit’s need to provide it. So he pulled more from Phalomir, and let the Lady’s desires feed back into the spirit.

She was strong. Strong enough, perhaps. For the first time in centuries, the Axis was enticed. The Lady had used all he provided, allowed her own power to flow freely and mingle with the Sith magick, and together they had defeated the hordes of the Darker Realm.

He relished in the rush of combining All and Sith magick, and basked in the victory. Victory over the demons, and over the Dark Lady’s doubts. She had taken the first step, now the bonds would be strong. Stronger still as each day progressed.

But the Lady was losing control, too much power for the first time. But it was done, she had used it well. It was now time to leave and strengthen the bond. He used the little bit of Sith magick still within him to strengthen the Lady, enough so she could stand.

“Yes, dear lady” the spirit soothed. “You have vanquished the enemy. Let us make our exit, there is much still to be done and you need rest. Trust in Phalomir, for you will need his strength. And now, we return home…”

Using the little bit of All power still remaining in its reservoir, the channeler opened a portal into the grand dining hall of Temple of the Warriors.

“Release the hold on the shade and instruct him to carry Phalomir through the portal. He will comply, his fear of Roan is great and will take his chances serving you over certain destruction.”

...well, powerful. Truthfully, it was disturbing. Terrin couldn't help but glance at Rhua, who was recovering from the blinding light himself. He opened his mouth to say something to the Kaminoan, but it was then that a portal was reopened before them...

...and with sudden certainty Terrin felt he had to reiterate his urgent need to somehow get to a point where he could at least ensure that Galen was brought back to safety. His blue eyes fell into Graysith's violet pair, and he almost reached out a hand to her in order to further grab her attention...

...but then withdrew it. The thought of how his spirit-body might respond to her flesh one sent a shiver through him. So instead he resorted to words.

"Please," he opened with, concern and worry evident in his voice, "Don't leave me here with no hope of ever bringing Galen to safety. She's endured so much...

...and I can't bear the thought of her enduring even more pain and hurt. She's been cruelly twisted in all of this with Roan...

...and I simply cannot rest while she remains in jepordy. Help me help her somehow...

... please..."

“Yes, let us depart from this wretched place,” she agreed with the voice in her head, turning her attention to the shade still held in the grip of her powers. She opened her mouth to order him through the dancing and shimmering Portal, when Terrin’s plea came into her ears.

My sister… Galen… she thought with a frown, instinctively tightening her hold upon Thoran. The shade writhed and moaned in that grasp, trying to free himself.

She… lives….

Her eyes narrowed as a wealth of dark thoughts tumbled through her mind. Then, a sweet smile upon her lips, she turned to the shade of Thoran.

“It is my understanding that you once shared your essence with another… and without corporeality cannot enter back into the universe with us,” she said. “Apparently it is being suggested that you accompany us back to K’eel Doba; hence, there is obviously a means by which this may be done.”

She paused then, now turning to the Kaminoan scientist.

“Here is a corporeal body; perhaps there is room within it to accommodate not one, but two spirits?” she suggested, tilting her head to Terrin and lifting her brows in seeming innocence at her own suggestion.

"Or," she continued, turning now to the towering Phalomir.

"Perhaps the twain can be doled out, one apiece?"

“What—what happened?” he stammered, blinking at the barren landscape now before him. “Where did the—What did this?”

Some thought finally found its way into cohesiveness, and Phalomir noticed the channeler still in Graysith’s hand. The jewels glowing around its tip seemed to somehow mock Phalomir, pulsing a taunting light. He looked into Graysith’s face, her eyes. He suddenly felt very distant.

“Yes, my lady, let us depart,” he said quietly. “We have much to discuss.”

He looked to Thoran, almost pathetic as he writhed in the binding energy.

“I will take this one,” Phalomir said. “As you know, he was in my mind before, I now understand his guile.”

He stared at Thoran for a moment, then cast a reassuring look to Graysith. Just who he was reassuring, he did not know.

Kriffing hell, but life was so much easier when I was...

...well alive.

Shaking himself from this thought, Terrin looked to the Kaminoan. And even though he was a spirit and could now do things which all spirits could, Terrin was still unsure of just how to go about this. After all, until recently he'd been rather hoping that he was really still alive.

Hell, Danner, a little angel on his shoulder piped up, If you're gonna try to share this guy's body with him, you could at least be polite about it.

But then the devil replied, Who says you have to ask anyway? Just do it...

Terrin ignored the latter, and found he much rather preferred the ethics of the angel's words. Maybe it was just his business background playing a hand in this...

"Well," he then spoke up to Rhua, "I know this is alot to ask you to do, and the thought of doing this gives me the creeps...

...but just maybe it could work out, since right now we have a common goal."

He paused, looking at the Kaminoan but uncertain of what thoughts might be going through his head.

Dammit, this guy has a good sabaac face...

"So shall we put our heads together?"

Ok, Danner, the devil snorted, That was totally lame...

He turned his limpid eyes from Terrin to the energy-ensconced Thoran to the recovering Phalomir and then to the slight form of the Dark Lady before finally mustering up the wherewithal to voice a comment.

"I'm not certain how to do what it is you are saying, lady, but may I suggest that we do this quickly? I fear that the former Dark Lord is a bit put out by the destruction of his, er-- pets; I know your strengths are great, but I also know him and I do not wish to cross paths with him again if it is at all preventable."

He turned back to Terrin and blinked in a manner surprisingly languorous for all the words he had spoken.

"To think of sharing my physical being with the essence of another -- fascinating. I always wondered about the humans' thought processes...."

He fell silent with that, waiting for whatever might happen next... hoping deeply that it would not be the unwelcomed arrival of Roan's evil and noisome presence.

"This integrating of spirits and bodies... it-- it is something beyond my capabilities. Perhaps you can provide some direction, and soon, that we might depart before the Dark Lord befouls us all with his presence?"

"The power overflows, I must say I am truly impressed lady Graysith." Came a voice from behind. The voice was surprising, as it was deepened, but barely, as it was not yet deepend with great age.

Looking around for a moment, Graysith beheld a dark haired boy of no more than fifteen, wearing a dark closefitting suit of thick mesh. With bracerlike bands surrounding his wrists, and what appeared to be the ends of lightsabres under them, a peculiar design indeed.

"I appologise for interupting the proceedings, but I find it all to enjoyable." The boy said, smirking. "Oh I did forget to introduce myself, I am named, Rykounagin, but don't let my sudden appearence bother you, no, continue as you would as though I was not here.

With those words, he flicked one of this various dark colored strands of hair over his shoulder, and stepping back a few meters to a better and safer vintage point.

The lad eyed her with an expression nearly as expressionless, mirroring her own save for some sort of amusement she thought she saw deep in the back of his bright eyes. She frowned at that, unconsciously tightening her grip upon Thoran as her lips tightened as well.

Where had this one come from? Who was he? That he was not Sith was a certainty—

She shot a sidelong glance to Phalomir, then back to the youth.

—and by rights should not, could not be here in the Darker Realms with them. It was impossible; he had no sorceries, no All, no means of opening a doorway into this dark dimension…

Yet somehow he had.

She shook her head, and finally spoke.

“I would speak further with you of how it is you have managed to come to this wretched spot, but not here. Momentarily we will be taking passage back to our world in the universe as we know it; perhaps you will choose to follow that we might continue with this conversation under surroundings more pleasant.”

With that she quieted, now speaking inwardly to the spirit in the Channeler.

”I find this turn of events strange, and would have your input regarding it. But not here; please, I bid you hasten with whatever proceedings you must in the joining of spirit to flesh. This place grows wearisome, the bellowings of Roan ever more of an annoyance…

“…and I would discover who this newcomer is, and how and why he has chosen to join us, here, as he has.”

She quieted her mind then, and turned a sweet smile upon the smirking lad. Something within her jumped to see him, for even through the façade of youth his manner bore a striking resemblance to a particular darth of her former acquaintance….

The Dark Lady felt another strange power surge upwards through the part of her body touching the chaneler. It passed through her, mingling with the All within, exploded before her eyes in a dazzling display of lights seen only by her. Somewhere in the distance she might have heard the scream of a familiar Sith. When it subsided, both Terrin and Thoran were gone, leaving Phalomir clutching his head and the newcomer struggling for balance.

A few moments later, he had become completely unawares of what was happening around him, as he had entered his own mind.
They have seen me, and now know that I am watching. However, they do not realise the implications of this, as they only have the slightest of our intentions. I will now proceed along, but first I will watch a few moments more. I know that I am not following exactly as we had planned, but this invitation is a new development, and I wish to follow it for a short time, as it may prove valuable to locating the one's we have spoken of. Rykounagin thought, looking deep within himself to convey this message.
They only see the mask, and it will be a while until the masquarade has ended, but soon it will come, and they might see yet the true master, the puppeteer behind this. But until then, I shall be the mask, and allow you to wear me proudly. I will serve you well.

Introspective, she thought to herself, not fooled in the slightest to believe that he was merely being respectful. True her memories of events had been curtailed to those immediately following her stay at Khar Delba with Darth Wicked, but something deeply suppressed fought and screamed that the manner of this youth was identical to that of others she had once dealt with, others who had the means to link with others in communication.

Had I myself not done the very same? she thought, remembering clearly a time where she had knelt outside a particular door in the, at that time, unoccupied Temple of the Sorcerers, her hand upon the cool engraved wood, her thoughts going out to the one sequestered behind it.

This attitude I know… yet, to whom is it he speaks?

She gave her head a minute shake, and let a corner of her lip lift.

There is but one way to determine this.

Now she mimicked the pose of the black-haired youth, going inward herself to touch the spirit of Telion de’ R’lous.

”Yes, I shall watch this one, and closely,” she sent to him, thrilling with the warmth the spirit shot back throughout her being in obvious agreement. Then she once more lifted her head, her eyes clearing.

“You now bear the spirit of he with whom who are already familiar,” she said, pointing to Phalomir. The towering Dark Lord staggered again, but slightly, and finally straightened up to his full height. He said nothing but nodded to her.

“And you—“

Now that pointing finger swept gracefully from Phalomir, bypassing the astonished Kaminoan scientist to come to rest on the quietly waiting lad. He perked up, focusing upon her, a seemingly pleasant smile upon his face.

“You bear that of one lost to us, the human bearing the name of ‘Terrin Danner.’ Bear it well, and without defiance, for the removal of a passenger spirit is far more difficult and painful than its integration… and sometimes the host body…”

She paused, now boring holes into his face with her eyes.

“…may suffer in consequence.”

Nodding to herself then, she turned to face the shimmering rift back into the real universe. Through it she could see silvered shadows of a great and ornately decorated room. Impressively horned and wondrously dressed red-skinned beings moved gracefully about therein.

She blinked, knowing of her destiny, unaware that it had already been carried out.

The Temple of the Warriors… alive with Sith.

A sudden thought struck her then, and she raised a belaying hand to the others.

“No, we shall not return to K’eel Doba, not at this time. Not until…”

She trailed once again, turning her full attention upon the newcomer who now was carrying the spirit of the human male Terrin Danner within him.

“Not until I know who you are, how you found us in this place where none without certain strengths may come, and more importantly…

”Why.”

With that she made an unconscious movement with her hand. The rift darkened, rippled, froze… and then resumed its earlier shimmering aspect. She cast a glance into it, smiling to see the familiar outlines of the bridge of the trapped Sith warship.

“First we shall have a little talk,” she said, then with no further ado waved a commanding hand toward the rift. She did not speak again but stood in that formal pose until all of the party had stepped through. Then she quickly followed, closing the Portal into the Darker Realms with a snap as she stepped out onto the bridge.

“And now, my fine young man, you shall tell me who you are and how you have come to us, and why,” she commanded, turning to the young lad and gesturing that all follow her as she proceeded to lead the party from the bridge to a ready room where they could speak.