The emotions she had run through, gauntlet-like, now lined up in front of her inner eye again: anger, hatred, suspicion, shock; all the darker emotions then segueing into something of a lighter mein, something unnatural to her...

But not to who she really was.

She thought back to her time with Entaris, and by dint of sheer effort managed to remove herself somewhat, enough to look at it from a different angle.

Such as Mother was always spouting, something about a Bigger Picture...

She pushed it away, and scrutinized further.

She, quite simply, had been taken advantage of. Had been silkily seduced, had been naively taken and given something she thought so much greater than reality. And that was immortality. But at what price?

It was only through the return of he who lay beside her that she was even able to harbor the final notion.

Not the loss of her soul, but of her heart. But now, it had been returned to her.

And she was suddenly discovering who and what exactly she truly was. A young half-human, half-Sith, in line to be Dark Lady of the Warriors, and highly trained by her father.

I am still me! she exulted, her eyes growing momentarily wild with the thought, letting something of her former haughtiness flood through her. And finding that haughtiness all the more satisfying, if only for the simple fact that it had something to compare itself with.

“Well,” he said. “I know what he has done in the past. He has always put himself in harm's way for her, and I've been with him when risked his own life to save her. I honestly think he'd do anything for her.”

Panthar's eyes lifted once again.

"You've certainly changed your tune quickly," was all she commented at first. She quieted for a moment, then continued. "Why the sudden change? After all, you had no problems taking an oath to help ShaRhylla to help her in her pursuit to rule the Sith, coming along with us and going along with our plan, and meanwhile leaving one of Danner's men imoprisoned on Khar Delba,,,

“I had a change of heart,” he said simply.

Shayla’s dubious look made him shake his head and curse under his breath.

“All right, let’s not pretend. It’s gone from me. Do you what you wish as far as telling her, but that icky dark stuff is gone. That stuff I did -- it wasn't me. But it’s me, now, Shayla, and I don’t think it’s coming back. So I’m sorry if this throws a wrench in the plans of whatever the heck that thing is, but I can’t allow anything to happen to my friends.”

Panthar bit his upper lip and inhaled.

She quieted a moment, arching an eeyebrow at Panthar curiosly before changing the subject entirely. "Phalomir's past is strangely muddled, and the future I've seen in relation to him is even more disturbing. What do you know about the his past, really? After all, both he and Thoran were planted in you so very long ago."

Somewhere Other, a great pair of chrome-sparkled eyes blinked in utter satisfaction. In that reality Man calls space and time, a super-massive star lit its surrounding light years with its sudden death, scattering parts of itself off into the not-Void, readying said space for the creation of yet another star and its attendants. The glory of the supernova left in its wake would cause astronomers galactic-wide to scramble to their instruments, of course in what particular order their particular system was from the expanding sphere of death.

Tucked in the middle of the expanding cloud of gas and particles, the core of the blue-white giant collapsed in upon itself, taking with it space and time and anything of sanity. The impossible speck of a singularity woke up in ravenous hunger and, reaching out, it began to feed.

It's nearest choices were its associates, for its parent star had during life been part of not merely a double, but of the extremely rare triple star system. Of course it had given up having attendant planets encircle it; indeed, so had it's brethren, for the privilege of such a rarity is not given freely. Nor is it when the paradigms change.

The Eyes blinked again, the singularity attacked the others, stellar matter swirled and accelerated... and the dark impossibility began to grow. Due to the vagaries of quantum restraints, while the mass grew ever larger, the singularity, already being without dimension, grew smaller. Matter of which it was made sang, suddenly strings upon which the Music of Universes was struck, stretching and pulling and vibrating. The strain was too much; something unfathomable to those beings who dwell in -- and who yet can barely understand -- the simplicity of merely four dimensions ripped into life, ripping into the fabric of Time and Space, crossing over into other dimensions existing in an entire multiplex of them.

The foamy, black bubble it poked into roiled, echoing with the slobbering yowls of billions upon billions of imps...

They/It looked up, seemed to cock sideways.

I still smile as my thoughts turn to our company aboard the ship, the name of which I was yet to have heard, and yet to really care for.

The large Sith, Panthar, was an oddity. I could've sworn I'd seen him before, perhaps when I'd first began my more troubled adventures amongst the Sith, or mayhaps at a later time. His silence was not exactly a welcoming thought, though I hadn't been there to hear him speak before. For now, he was a silent guardian of some sort, or simply the hired help.

Shayla. That would be the most interesting one. Never, and I had to highlight that, never had they gotten along. From arguments to posturing to an incident involving fire, their relationship had been a sled ride down the side of an erupting volcano.

Phalomir? I was at a loss really of how to align myself with or against him. I had played the game of nicety before coming to the forest world, I am sure, but now? All things seemed to have been lost in the haze of greater loss of power. But as it stood, with my present 'allies', it seemed he was a threat, or otherwise to be treated as hostile to some degree.

It would stand, for now.

What of my brother? Long had it been since I'd seen him, though I would hope he was dead by now, perhaps locked in the maw of a Rancor, though I would doubt he would succumb to such a predator.

The stuff of dreams... the stuff of dreams...

The words beckoned to her, reaching out to her, prompting her to in turn reach back out toward them as they seemed to recede, to grow distant, to want to lead her up and out and away. If she stretched just right she would almost touch them, for although they were indeed receding, they were also indeed taking her with them, to...

Her eyes lifted lazily, the vision before them unfathomable for its closeness. Then they focused more clearly, recognizing the proximity of Rykounagin's chest; other senses awoke with equal languor, registering the feel of fingers lightly running through her hair, stroking her. She shivered a little, snuggled a bit closer, and only then did she finally consider the actual meaning of the words she had responded to.

"But dream no longer, my love," she purred in a half whisper, the muffled words sliding against Rykounagin as she pressed herself closer yet.

"This is wonderfully real, and will be forever and ever."

She silenced, content to enjoy the moment, and put away from her all the other persistent little annoyances that were trying to impinge upon her happy state. Those being the myriad statements concerning the little dilemma of where to go from here.

For the situation she now found herself in, generally speaking, had certainly undertaken a complete turn-around, hadn't it?

The thought brings a quiet shiver down my spine, but I do not let it reflect as I kiss the crown of her head, still holding her close, the warmth of her body making up for the cool air of the room, though it has improved slightly with the present company.

“That's a long answer to a short question,” he said. “I'm hoping to write a book someday about that. But really, I was just an archaeologist, studying this ancient civilization I had found evidence of on a remote planet. I broke though into a cave, found this crystal, next thing I know I have two visitors in me and I'm not able to control my own actions. All I really can tell you about that whole experience was that Phal was really confused as to what happened, and he once he figured some things out then we was a nice as could be. Thoran was quiet, but we all know now that he was planted there to keep on eye on Phal.”

Panthar shrugged then, and continued.

“Phal thinks he was sent back in time to save the Sith from some impending future invasion by the Vong. That's not what he was told when he was freshly hatched from the crystal, so I guess Thoran had his reasons for lying about that. Or maybe there is something to it after all? I don't think Phal knows for sure, really. But I do know that he is a good person, and he has been loyal to his friends and his lady. Remember when he became Dark Lord? You were there, weren't you? He was given the chance to take that weird dagger thing but the Eye of R'lous showed him a vision of what would happen if he did, and chose to never possess it and said it would be better for everyone if he didn't hold that kind of power.”

Panthar shrugged again.

...and seems to just trust the Master at his word that he is his Father? What about the stuff about this Trelanicus person? When you step back from your position in all of this and look at the Bigger Picture, too many unknowns surrounding this one exist...

...and that is intolerable."

Especially considering that, since you've seen scores of clones of him, who could really know which one is truly the Original...

...or which one will commit the atrocity which the Octahedron displayed?

Panthar paused, giving Shayla a confused look.

But still his thoughts remained free to wander, and the direction they went was directly to the topic that weighted most heavily on his mind.

Lost in her half-dream state, a yet conscious part of her being turned inward, scrutinizing, searching through this new feeling to find the ShaRhylla that was yet ensconced within.

I am still me, the daughter of Lord Roan, the Heiress to the Warriors, she thought drowsily as a bit of haughtiness rose up in greeting. I haven't changed, not at all.

I didn't even come into her mind the fact that in thinking thus, she really was afraid that she had changed. Or rather, that which to all outward appearances showed itself as ShaRhylla Roan had changed. Had, in fact, disappeared. The evil seed planted within her by Entaris, nurtured by the Darkness in the time since that being's disappearance, was indeed gone.

But that did not necessarily mean the halfling had automatically reverted to a namby-pamby little goodie-two-shoes.

Far from it.

"I am still me..."

The words drowsed from her lips, spoken half consciously, half unbeknownst to her. A niggle of selfishness, of royal hauteur, of the adolescent it's all about me-ness that made up her psyche before Entaris's lethality had come into her life was yet there.

At the moment it was only muted by the wash of a new sensation: love.

She had never loved, not even before, when Rykounagin first became her husband-to-be. Then it was only possession, that and that alone. But now, this new emotion was gaining foothold in her being, and by slowly rising was only giving greater depth to that which was and ever would be...

ShaRhylla.

She smiled slightly, drifting further into the deeps of contented slumber...

And finally into a state of unconsciousness. Each and every one.

I feel the ship heave again and roll across the floor, catching a mounted desk in the ribs. I growl and try to get up but am pitched one more time across the room to a rest near the foot of the bunk ShaRhylla and I had shared a moment before.

My head is reeling in darkness for a long moment and find myself slipping away to unconsciousness, blinking hard as I try to keep control, I find my gaze falling over her form, sitting somewhat dazed by the side of the bed.

As he looked around his awareness slowly filtered back through the clouds that had blanketed his mind. The back of his head throbbed as if something big and hard had come crashing down upon it. Strange lights swam just outside of his vision, causing him to blink for a few seconds. He tried then to rise, then realized he was being held down by something soft and warm.

He looked down, more flopping his head than anything. He blinked more, then realized that it really was Shayla sprawled out over his mid section. Looking around, he realized that he was on the floor of what appeared to be a ship. Panthar lay across the small room, crumpled in a heap.

Phalomir rolled from under Shayla, his wounds protesting. Eventually he found himself upright and on his feet, his head swimming but his feet more or less stable. He bent over with a wince and lifted Shayla in his arms and placed her gently on the bed that sat in the center of the room. He then pulled the crumpled blanket over her and turned to the portal.

He walked out into the small hallway, pressing against the bulkhead. He took slow steps and tried to steady himself, but a subtle nausea washed over him and refused to disperse. He felt his way along the wall and squinted ahead into the cockpit. It was empty and a large red light was blinking on the main console. He shook his head slightly and looked to the side where his hand was pressing. It was another door.

He fumbled for the switch on the wall and door slid open. It was a bedroom apparently, and there were two forms inside – one on the floor and another sitting on the bed. The form on the bed was a female, red hair...

“Jharmeen?” he said softly. No, wait, it wasn't her... it was...

ShaRhylla uttered a little moan as a whisper-soft little sound drifted into her ears. Normally the sound would be too quiet in and of itself to drag her from the depths of unconsciousness, but the maddening regularity of it accomplished the task. Slowly, slowly she drifted upward from the dark, awakening in pieces until she was conscious enough to realize something else.

A taste.

The two coalesced: the maddening plip and the taste of... metal. She dragged her yet unseeing eyes open, lolled her head against the bed which held her limp form propped upright to an extent, and studied the result.

Blood. It was blood. The metallic taste in her mouth was that of blood... her blood... and the soft little noise was the sound of it dripping on the deck next to where she sat. There beside her, a small, purplish pool of it glittered in the dim light of the cabin.

Her tongue snaked out, searching, encountered a sweet reward. Not one, but two punctures in her bottom lip told the tale; as Preon fought to keep itself alive against the unknown onslaught, knocking all aboard her silly in the process, she had bitten her lip.

A sigh escaped her, drifted to her ears, awakening them to the fact that the simple sound of that sigh was not the only one trying to make itself known.

"--appened? Why am I here?"

Now vision came to her eyes, her thought processes gathered themselves together in a sudden rush, berating her for her weakness.

Fool, you could have been killed by-- by whoever is speaking to you! How easily you let this-- this being sneak up on you; a warrioress should not be subject to the mere whimsy of pain and physical assault!

No matter what instinctive words flashed through her mind, the solid reality was that yes, halfling, you are indeed mortal, aren't you? That wonderful part of you now gone...

And for--?

"Rykounagin--?" she whispered, letting the inflection rise upward into a question. Half-thoughts and ghostly memory battled with overwhelming query, fought against budding logic, against pure sensation, all in a wild hodge-podge that whirled about and all together until at length she simply sat completely up and tossed them away from her.

She blinked in crystal clarity, the taste of her blood fresh on her tongue. Before her stood her hulking enemy, wavering on his feet like a lamb given the slaughter-blow. She raked his form with her bi-colored eyes, which then narrowed a bit.

"I do not know," she deigned to reply, albeit flatly. Then--

"Rykounagin!"

Suddenly on her feet, she found where he lay crumpled, rushed to him, her mouth still bleeding but less now, sudden aches and twinges awakening her attention, demanding it fully, to be ignored. She fell to her knees beside her betrothed, cradling his head in her lap.

"I am here," she whispered softly, leaning down to place her forehead against his. Then she straightened, turning to stare at Phalomir, glaring at him as though everything that had just happened so unexpectedly to them was entirely his fault.

I shook my head slowly as the soft, slightly hurried, worried voice of ShaRhylla came into greater focus. I was having a hard time piecing together everything happening around me, such was the vertigo and disorienting impact.

My subconcious began to reach out, pulling at tendrils of magic to bring wakefulness flooding back to me; such an easy task, to bring such power coursing through you, to empower and enhance. Something I'd always been good at doing, the simple reflexiveness of grasping such.

Something that was not there.

I struggled, the crutch upon which I had been raised removed, trying to stand straight mentally in the loss of everything that had been once such a natural part of me.

Slowly I swallowed and looked up into her eyes. "I'm here." I looked around slowly. "I'm here." I repeated, things starting to rush back into focus.

"I do not know why he is up, nor why he has come to be in the doorway to our quarters," she said softly, stroking his cheek a little. "He just... appeared."

Now a quick glance was shot Phalomir's way before all her attention was once again focused on Rykounagin.

"He... asks about your condition; he states you were... were with him before ewoks attacked you."

She paused, her eyes beginning to fill with a dark hurt.

A memory flickers momentarily. An airlock, wind rushing about the two of us. What were we doing there?

I remember shouting and then... unconsciousness.

"We were aboard a ship." I say slowly. "Though the why... I think we were fighting." I say. "If that is so, then why would I come here with him?"

I look to her and shake my head. "I do not remember much, but whatever brought us to that jungle is something of the past. Unimportant if so easily forgotten."

Then she straightened, all seeds of budding fear and hurt utterly squelched, cast away like spindrift upon the wind.

"I believe you," she said, now letting her eyes cut to Phalomir who yet slumped against the doorframe. Her nose wrinkled the tiniest bit at the weakness he projected...

Far from the demeanor of a Dark Lord!

...then lifted her face upward, letting her jutting chin portray exactly what she thought of him. Still staring at him she ran one hand about Rykounagin's face, let her fingers linger about his lips a bit before she let her body follow where her nose had led. Gaining her feet she stood rock steady, rock solid, and sent an ominous look into Phalomir's eyes.

"Then this one is either... confused, or he is lying to us," she stated flatly, now letting her hands clench into fists at her side.

"In either case, I do not recall having invited him here; perhaps he would allow us the privilege of our privacy, and go back to the place he has been given!"

Concussion, he thought. You have a concussion, that must be it. You’ll be all right soon, just get to a place to rest…

“Wait,” he said, his voice heavy with fatigue. “Rykounagin, you don’t remember anything that happened? We went through the portal, and ended up on Endor…”

And then your magick was gone, Phalomir. And you experienced a temporary insanity or some such mental ailment brought on by that loss of powers. So really, what do YOU remember of that?

“Something is wrong here,” he said. “Shayla and Panthar, out there… And you in here… I will get back to you.”

Phalomir trailed off, looking back to towards the cockpit. He stepped backwards and followed the hallway, leaving the door open to ShaRhylla’s appropriated quarters. He stumbled into the cockpit and sat – no, plopped – into the pilot’s seat. The stars around them were streaming as they would in hyperspace, but something was not quite right. The ship seemed to be somehow spinning. He strained his eyes to focus on the console and finally clicked the button next to the flashing red light. The stars slowed and then stopped, and in an instant the normal view of a starfield appeared in the viewscreen.

But it was not a view that Phalomir immediately recognized.

Hyperspace was a mystery only partially understood by sentient beings, just enough to take advantage of the spatial distortions to ease space travel. But inside that strange state of existence, when something went wrong it usually went VERY wrong.

And the unfamiliar stars before Phalomir told him that something had indeed gone very, very wrong.

"How do you feel?" she queried anxiously, staring deeply into his eyes again, searching to see if anything in those mysterious depths seemed amiss. But she couldn't tell a thing, other than the feelings he had for her; cursing inwardly for her lack of powers, she pressed on.

"Is there anything you need, my love? Are you injured? Perhaps I should go seek--"

She paused a moment, floundering. After all, this wasn't her ship, no matter how haughtily she behaved toward it and its mistress. Truth be known, she hadn't a clue where to find whatever medicines or medical supplies Rykounagin might be needing.

He blinked rapidly as if that would clear his mind. Slowly the world around him came back into focus and he managed to stand. He looked down at the bed to see if Phalomir was all right, and made an audible squawk at the sight of Shayla. He stepped forward and placed a large, gentle hand on her forehead. He brushed away the blond hair from her eyes and checked her breathing.

“Looks like she was knocked out,” he said. “Like me.”

He rubbed the back of his head where a nagging pain was prickling his skin, then thought to check Shayla. He lifted her head gently and checked for blood. There was none, but a bump was definitely forming back there.

But where was Phalomir? And what had happened, anyway?

Panthar gently touched Shayla's forehead again and then peered out into the hall. He shrugged and headed out, pausing when he noticed the hulking Sith sitting in the pilot's seat, staring out at the stars with a look of concern and confusion.

A shuffling sound caught his ear and he looked to the right. A door was open, and he stepped forward quietly to check the sound.

"What must I do--!"

She was on her feet, whirling toward the door, fists clenched, fangs bared in anger as despite her lack of powers she reacted in the instinctive manner so uniquely hers. But then--

"Oh. It is you."

It took some effort on her part to flatten her ruffled feathers, more effort yet to halt her momentum and keep from flying fists-first at Panthar. She managed, however, and slowly brought herself under a modicum of control.

For a moment.

"What do you want? Why are you here? And what has happened, do you know? My husband-to-be appears to have been knocked out by a dreadful shaking; is the ship in one piece?

"What is going on?"

"We've exited hyperspace." I say with a quiet realization, feeling that the small vibration to the ship that accompanies such motion has vanished.

"We can't be there yet." I manage to right myself, trying my best to ignore the spinning in my head. "I'll be fine." I say to ShaRhylla, recalling her distinct distaste for weakness or frailty.

"Uh," he began. "No?"

Not unless she'd turned red and grew a few feet in size.

"Such idle talk serves no purpose," she stated, repeating her thoughts aloud. She cast a look toward Rykounagin, who appeared steady enough on his feet.

Good. My love is strong, fit to rule the Sith! she exulted inwardly before turning away from him to take matters into her own hands.

"I mean to find answers."

Riding firmly atop her royal high horse, she stomped out of the quarters and quickly gained the corridor without. Recalling enough of the ship's layout to at least find the cockpit, she headed in that direction. There she entered without announcement or hesitation, being taken only somewhat aback at the sight of Phalomir sitting in the pilot's chair. In front of him the viewport showed a starfield, thus confirming both Rykounagin's and Panthar's statements that they had dropped from hyperspace.

Coming to a halt a couple meters behind the silent Sith, she drew herself up, crossed her arms in front of herself.

"What has happened, do you know?" she asked, the tone of her voice converting the simple question into a demand for an answer.

"Where is Shayla?"

"I assume," he began, "that we must have somehow collided with some object within hyperspace and were thrown into a spin. The nav computer is down at the moment, and I do not recognize this star pattern. As for Shayla, she was knocked unconscious and is asleep on the bed in the sick bay."

Phalomir then turned the seat to fully face ShaRhylla, his hands still pressed together in front of his chin. His senses had returned somewhat but he was still feeling like he could go to sleep at any moment. Still he did not know exactly what had happened her or what led to his waking up aboard the ship. He thought it wise to take on a different demeanor.

"I believe I may have experienced a concussion, but such trivialities shall pass. In the meantime, we need to ascertain our position and commence what repairs we can. I think Panthar has some knowledge in this area, and can at least begin an analysis while we wait for Shalya to regain consciousness."

Phalomir began to turn the seat back to the viewscreen, then paused.

Aelvedaar... where was he?

But if the Pretender was unable to implement what was needed to get them on their way, at least he knew something of what should be done. Which, actually, was more than she herself knew.

She struggled a moment with herself, then fought down her hatred and dislike and general annoyance. A time and place for everything; now was the time to throw up a disguising mask, to not only keep him off-guard from her but unaware of the fact this was happening. So she let a bit of her hauteur shine through, just enough to show him that she was still ShaRhylla, and still didn't really care one whit for him.

"Panthar and Shayla, and Rykounagin and myself," she replied flatly before heading for the nearest seat to plop unceremoniously into it.

"What are we going to do if Shayla doesn't wake up? Maybe Rykounagin--"

She broke off, showing uncharacteristic restraing in her unwillingness to speak for her betrothed. The fact that she believed he had the ability to pilot them out of their predicament was his choice and honor to offer, not hers.

"Yes, Rykounagin may be able to help. He is a bright boy with great potential. I can pilot the ship if needed, but the nav computer is another matter."

Phalomir watched ShaRhylla's face. She was trying hard not to show emotion or give away her thoughts. He smiled inwardly at this for she was basking in the thrill of political intrigue.

"You also have great potential," he said. "Once we return home I will suggest to your mother that you begin learning the business of ruling. You will find it is much more than barking orders, and the Sith will need strong, level headed leaders in the next generation."

...but a nagging red flag in the corner of her mind threatened to disrupt her blissful rest.

Hey...weren't you going...somewhere? Piloting a ship to the Sith worlds? Where was Graysith? Was Erik piloting?

Erik. Yes, yes, he had to be piloting. Carrying their baby had really taken its toll on her, particularly after all that Loban had done...

This memory, displaced as it was, was enough to jerk Shayla into wakefulness.

Was he still on the ship?

Shayla bolted upright, her hand going to her belly. her shock heightened to feel a firm, flat abdomen.

And then she remembered. She had the baby, and he was on Khar Delba in an incubator. They had been sent away...

At this thought, sorrow filled Shayla. She stretched out with the Force to comfort herself...

...and encountered another jolt. The Force...it just wasn't there. Memory registered once again, along with more pain and anguish.

Powers were gone, the baby was dead, and she just couldn't stand being with her husband any longer. He just didn't understand. Graysith, she wanted to be back with Graysith...

Getting control of her raging emotions, Shayla got to her feet, ignoring pain in her side and the throbbing of her head, ignoring that the world around her was spinning slightly. She had no time for sorrows, and no time for assessment of her condition. Her pilot senses told her that the ship was not in hyperspace any longer as she finally recalled what she had been doing...

...at least mostly: Piloting her ship back to K'eel Doba to find Graysith. With effort, she stumbled her way towards the cabin of the Preon, her vision yet swimming. She paused just outside, needing a moment before who and what she was seeing finally registered in her brain.

ShaRhylla, Phalomir, and Panthar. Huh...?

More of the puzzle of where she was and what she had been doing fell into place. The universe was spinning a little less rapidly and enough of her usual aplomb was back to realize that Phalomir was seated in the pilot's chair of her ship, and she really had no idea why or how she had been knocked unconscious. All she knew was that she didn't trust him and she had suddenly been taken down...

...and he was at the controls.

Her eyes locked unsteadily on his form as he turned in her direction, likely having heard her approach. "What have you done..?" she growled, approaching the controls and gaining more balance. She turned with effort in ShaRhylla's direction and paused, her piloting senses telling her more regarding the ship's condition. "Something has damaged the navcomputer," she stated, "And it feels like the sublight engine may be as well, we are not flying smoothly. We may need to land and get repairs."

Shayla frowned, her eyes defocusing a bit. Then they snapped back alert, although she still had some difficulty looking steadily back at Phalomir, who still sat in her pilot's chair.

"I do not know what he did," Here she shifted gaze back to ShaRhylla. "I was watching him one moment, and down the next," she explained darkly. She jerked her eyes back into Phalomir's green pair. "I need to assess the damages to my ship. Get away from the navboard...

... Now."

His face softened a bit.

"I place you in the cot, you have a bump on your head but I think you will be all right."

Phalomir stood, his hulking form taking up much of the pilot's area. He then placed a hand on Shayla's shoulder and moved past to make room for her in the pilot's seat.

She didn't know diddly about navigation or for stars in general, but even to her untrained eye the image looked to be a bit on the strange side. The odd thing was that even in its strangeness, it seemed oddly familiar.

She reached out a slender hand, placed a dainty claw on the middle left of the screen and slowly drew it horizontally to the other side.

"Look," she observed, for the moment dropping all pretense of hauteur. Her hand came to the end of its little trajectory; with a slight nod of her head, she repeated the gesture.

"The stars, they are all in a band. They're not everywhere, as in the night sky."

Sure enough, the image was exactly that. While they couldn't be certain of what lay behind the ship, at least in front of it were stars. But stars that had somehow arranged themselves in a band-like formation, as if they had taken on a sphere-like shape that had been impossibly drawn out. Above and below this band, the void of space remained dark, although a tiny, sugar-crystal-like sprinkling revealed the presence of some stars forming a dim cloud very close to the band's upper and lower edges.

She drew back, and stared at the others.

"I've seen something of this look, when I was outside the Temple, after the lights of Phrinnchatka had been darkened for the night. The sky looked something like this: there was a band of stars going across the entire sky. The only difference was that in the night sky there were other stars all over the sky, but here there is just the band.

"What could this mean? Could it be we are near K'eel Doba? Maybe we can find our location by looking about ourselves too?"

She cast a sidelong look Shayla's way, watched closely as the young woman simply nodded in agreement and manipulated a particular set of buttons on the board. The image in front of them immediately began to slew, eerily folowing along the mid-plane of the band of stars until those stars seemed in themselves to dim, to grow fainter and fainter until they disappeared altogether.

As part of my training as a child, I was taught to fly ships, to navigate hyperspace. But I'd never gone so far as to memorize star clusters; my interest had been restricted to the bare essentials of transit and combat flight.

"Actions, not words." I finally say, pushing away from the door frame I'd been leaning against.

"This is Shayla's ship. Regardless of our thoughts towards our current predicament, I doubt any of us have the knowledge to make the repairs, save perhaps for her. In the meantime, perhaps we, the well tossed salad of the ship, should take some seats and try to recover."

I look out at the screen, then look back to the party.

"True," he said. "But ShaRhylla has noticed a very important fact about the positioning of the stars and we need to be prepared for the news that I believe the nav computer is going to confirm. As ShaRhylla astutely observed, the stars are banded together. My fear -- and I hope I am wrong -- is that we are very far from the Sith worlds. In fact, we are very far from anywhere familiar."

Phalomir sighed, looking around at the others.

"If this is true, then-- then how will we get back? Do we need to know where we are, so that we might navigate back to where we want to be?

“We will return home,” he said, without a hint of doubt. “It may take some time, but we will return. Shayla will let us know when the nav computer is functional and with it we will compute our location and plot a course for home.”

Shayla had already begun working on the nav computer. He held little hope that she could repair it quickly, but kept that hidden. He knew very little of repairing such devices, though he knew well how to pilot and navigate. That was a fact that most likely was known only to Jharmeen.

Jharmeen…

By the gods, how am I to get back to Jharmeen? K’Kihl, I wish there was a way to know what is happening, is she safe – is she well? If anything should happen to her…

No. She is well, I feel it. I must focus on the situation at hand and find a way to get everyone back.

“I’ll take any help you might be able to give,” he said, looking at Rykounagin. “I know the systems but there’s a lot we need to go over. Especially hull integrity and the status of the hyperdrive. Plus, I’d like to run a bunch of probability scenarios and try to figure out what happened to us. If we can figure it out, then maybe we can reverse our steps somehow and get home that much faster.”

With that, Panthar turned back towards the hall.

“I’ll be in the control room,” he said, half smiling, “or whatever they call it these days.”

Panthar paused, then turned his head back.

Much as she might dislike the idea.

She scrunched her brows, trying to remember anything, anything at all that she might have learned from her parents, something that might come in useful somehow. Something mentioned once popped into her head, something that had trickled into it from her human grandsire via her mother.

"I don't think sending a distress call will do us any good," she blurted, turning away from Rykounagin. "Mother once told me that messages sent while in a ship travel on some kind of-- of wave-? and cannot go into hyperspace. Or something. The wave has a limited speed; if we are outside of our galaxy, won't it take too long for anyone inside to receive it?

"But I am not adept in such things. Maybe I am wr-- that is, maybe I mis-heard Mother."

She took a small step in Panthar's direction.

"I don't know what I can do, but I can at least try to help."

To her amazement, she found it quite easy to suppress the wrinkle of her nose this offer of assistance would otherwise have brought to her face. She merely sniffed and kept moving forward until she was next to Panthar, hoping inwardly that Rykounagin would likewise offer his talents to the group.

I nod, inwardly chuckling at my love's inability to admit she could be wrong. At least openly.

"I agree. A distress signal would be useless in attempting to address anything within the normal space of the galaxy, and as for whatever could be out here, I'd rather avoid the attention of such."

I look out the door of the cockpit at Panthar.

"As I implied before, I know little of the workings other than bare essentials, though I am adept at operating in zero-G conditions if someone is needed to examine the hull."
Provided we have a suit for such.

"If the hull was damaged, wouldn't we be dead by now?" she queried, turning back toward Rykounagin with a lift of one brow. "And if our sensors had been damaged, would it not be impossible to sense where we are-- or rather, where we are not?"

She turned back to Panthar for a moment.

"That is actually a very sound suggestion," said Phalomir, not waiting for Panthar. "But I wanted to run a hull and systems check to locate any type of damage, hoping that it might help explain what exactly happened to us. You just do not run into things in hyperspace -- at least you do not and survive. We must have been hit by some type of energy, and if it was a weapon then there should be scarring on the hull. If it was a more natural type of energy, then perhaps there are residual readings in the sensors. Either way, I think it would be worthwhile to run a systems check. And, I am sorry, Rykounagin, but if you would not mind suiting up...? I leave that to you, but you may be able to find scarring."

Phalomir then turned to ShaRhylla.

"If we had been damaged, we would be feeling the effect of this now," she repeated her former point. "As for what in particular that it was, does it truly matter now? We are where we are by whatever it was that happened to us; it is still more important to find out where we were thrown.

"Perhaps we can get a better view of it from the outside of the ship... but how can anyone get outside safely? When I left the ship on Endor, I only passed through one doorway. Mother did teach me that there is no air in space; won't our air disappear outside if we open the ship's door?"

She looked up at Phalomir, then moved to Shayla. The young woman had remained remarkably silent through all of this, undoubtedly too engrossed in checking out Preon's systems to join in the speculative conversation going on behind her. But the fact that she was taking such a length of time, and had not announced anything, brought a glimmer of hope. Perhaps she was silent because there was nothing yet to report.

ShaRhylla paused only a moment before pushing past Shayla to get to the position on the boards holding the controls to the viewscreen. Mimicking Shayla, she managed to get the exterior cams moving: the image on the screen promptly slewed wildly into an angle, cutting the viewscreen across diagonally. Cursing under her breath, she fiddled more, bumping her shoulder into Shayla when the woman moved to assist: this was her little project, and she was going to finish it!

At length she had the controls determined, and the image on the screen righted itself. Once again it appeared to remain steady, presenting them with the sight of a band of stars smeared across the width of the screen. But this band grew gradually brighter as the cam continued its slew, then began to dim again, finally fading away altogether.

The image left in its wake was entirely black, showing absolutely nothing as the cam continued its movement, until at length a dim splatter of light came into view. That splatter resolved itself bit by bit into a band, which once again gradually began to brighten.

ShaRhylla removed her hand from the control, and straightened up.

"There are stars in a band, which dim into nothing. Then there is nothing, then stars light up again," she announced unnecessarily. "I don't see anything out there other than that.. wait.

"What is that?"

“It is a proximity alert,” he said. “I set it when I was studying the stars a few moments ago. There is another object within a hundred thousand kilometers of us that registers an ion signature. Let us see if we can find it…”

Phalomir looked at the control that ShaRhylla had commanded just a moment before, realizing he would have to push her out of the way to reach it.

“Perhaps you could swing the sensors back around to the aft, and then we could…”

His attention was drawn to a small dot of light that drifted onto the view screen from the top left. It was small, still quite far away, but very noticeable on the dark curtain of night that stretched out before them.

“Do you see what I am seeing? How is this possible?”

Phalomir blinked, then looked to ShaRhylla.

"Well that is something quite unfamiliar." I murmur, trying to examine it through the slight pixelation that the digital zoom has created.

"You said you set this alarm; perhaps you can likewise determine just what this thing is," she said, now sending a look bearing her normal, signature haughtiness Phalomir's way.

"I have found the thing; it is your time to continue with it and discover what it is. But to me, it looks somewhat like-- like..."

The pretense of haughtiness fell a couple notches as she screwed her brows together, and leaned a bit forward to scrutinize the screen further.

"Some kind of ship," she said at last as she pulled back again, now seeking physical verification of Rykounagin's strength. Not that she wasn't strong enough in herself, mind you; but even she could recognize the concept of additive power. Each one of them unto his or herself might be uniquely powerful in his or her own way, but together their talents were multiplied.

Even him, a tiny portion of her unconscious admitted grudgingly as her eyes slid momentarily to Phalomir. Then they slid upward to her betrothed, and remained fixed there.

For he was right, as was Phalomir. This thing did not belong where it was; how could it have gotten there. And in all the vastness of the known universe, how could it have seemingly found them?

...something was certainly wrong. Or at least, it appeared to be wrong...

...especially now.

"Unless my sensors are wrong--and I don't think that they are--it is a ship."

She paused, her look darking as with effort she turned her attentions away from the controls and towards ShaRhylla. "The problem is that my navboard can't seem to make any sense of where we are...

...nor do my systems seem to pick up any planets or other bodies, recognizable or not, in the area."

Shayla quieted again, her eyes shifting ever-so-slowly to the still approachig thing in the viewscreen. "Which makes me wonder just where in all the known galaxy that approaching...

...thing might have come from..."

"It's odd... it has all the appearance of a ship in shape, but it has a peculiar... texture. That doesn't look like simple durasteel construction..." I say, examining it. "Some sort of Xenos ship perhaps... like the ships that were fought at Bakura. Perhaps something we've not encountered before."

"Of course we're not going to find any planets or anything like that out here!" she stated with a little sniff.
"We're beyond the limits of our galaxy, aren't we?"

Her eyes slid to Phalomir, reading silent affirmation to her statement in his own troubled pair. Nodding, she nestled against Rykounagin, now taking the Tooth from her boot and beginning to toy idly with it.

"Doesn't anyone but me find it... odd that in all the great hugeness of space, this ship or whatever it is has managed to find us? And that after we landed here by accident."

Now she shot another dark look toward Shayla, as if their current situation had been entirely her fault. But the halfling being who and what she was, she naturally had to lay blame somewhere; since Shayla had plotted their course, it seemed logical to her that it was due to some mishap on the young woman's part that had landed them where there now were.

"If it was an accident at all," Shayala ammended, unable to stop herself from shooting a somewhat accussatory look Phalomir's direction. With effort, the look faded and she was once more virtually unreadable.

"For all we know, if there are truly games being played by Powers that Be which we are not aware of..."

She trailed, scowling.

"...this could all be yet another move in the game."

Her lip twisted in a look of disgust once more at the suggestion that they were all being moved around as mere pawns. The very idea turned her stomach.

"But all speculation aside, whether we were placed here intentionally or not, it would seem that, for some reason or another...

...whomever or whatever is out there knows we are here, which almost suggests that they or it may somehow have a connection with someone or something onboard our own ship. And as for any further scans...

...my sensors detect metal and such as we would expect from any typical ship," she said, answering Rykounagin. "But you are also correct, there is something my scanners detect about the ship's outer hull that it has been trying to analyze and recognize...

...but it has been unsuccessful doing so."

Moving with all the grace and speed of a sandcat, she was away from Rykounagin and back at the console.

"Let me..." she interjected rather roughly as with equal roughness she shouldered Shayla aside and reached for the zoom controls. The image on the screen came in a touch closer, and she had to strain to see its dim form against the blackness of intergalactic space. But even though it was at the limits of Preon's sensors, there was enough light being cast upon it from the galaxy behind them that, although tiny, it resolved into just a bit more clarity.

Everyone seemed to lean forward, all breath seemingly held. ShaRhylla let hers out in a quick huff as one slender, clawed finger tapped upon the image being presented by the screen.

Yes, it most definitely was a ship.

Yes, it was most definitely strange in outward appearance, seeming to be covered by a coating of something that seemed to...

Writhe.

She leaned in more closely, noticed something briefly revealed by the ship's strangely roiling cover.

A quick flash of letters, of words.

--il-Ma--

The flash of recognition within her escalated into a shiver that raced throughout her body. While the briefly exposed lettering didn't mean diddly to her, the substance covering the ship was familiar to her.

Very familiar indeed.

She sucked in a breath, catching her bottom lip between her fangs, and went back to Rykounagin. The move was not as if she was seeking safety, but rather seeking to...

Share.

“This ship,” he said to no-one in particular, “This looks like something one would expect to find in any spaceport, such as I have seen in the human worlds. Yet, something does indeed seem strange about it, something covering it in places… something else I have seen before…”

Walls.

Phalomir sat back abruptly as the image flashed before his eyes.

“Walls,” he murmured. “Cell walls…”

He struggled to remember, but the rest of this story would not play out. He knew the answer, he knew he had been somewhere and had seen things that would make this oh so clear, but it was just out of reach.

“Where have I seen this?” he asked, turning to the others. His eyes caught first with Rykounagin’s, and he saw that this troubled the youth as well.

But it was there… images of pain, of… torture? Wailing, darkness, suffering…

His thoughts were interrupted by a crackle that cut the silence like the claw of a rancor. Another crackle, then a hiss that tried to form into a voice.

“—ay care… contact-- ship. We-- adrift--- help… ”

Phalomir immediately snapped out of his thoughts and into the now. He reached for the com-link button but then paused. He then glanced around to the others.

I reach down to the controls and find a familiar symbol, pressing it into the console.

"Damaged vessel, your broadcasts are coming through as weak, say again, your broadcasts are coming through as weak. Please identify yourself."

The writhing blackness that covered the ship which floated helplessly nearby.

She more than well knew what that was, where it had come from. But so should have Rykounagin; because of her former connection with the Darker Realms, and the link she had maintained with it, she had easily felt within the very being of her husband-to-be that he had trafficked within them at one point himself.

One does not handily traipse into Hell and back without being a bit... touched by it...

And that touch had a blackly silken tendency to linger in one's memory, whether consciously or not.

A crackle of static assailed her ears, drawing her away from her thoughts. Plucking up the Tooth of S'slan once again, she ran its blade lightly up and down her thumb while she listened.

"--are. We say ...n, this is Devi- are..."

The voice lost itself to static, which filled their ship with an interfering hiss.

She looked from one to the other.

"Did anybody make that out?" she asked innocently, not really caring, just a simple statement of query that likewise faded into the electronic chatter arout them.

An ever familiar item in my life.

However, it was the nervous trait, the tell she was displaying by holding it that worried me more. What was it that she had said?

Do you remember?

My eyes go back to the ship, trying to discern what she was-

Oh sacred feth.

I blink, realizing what I'd been missing. Yes, the texture was off because the texture wasn't solid. It was moving, so much like...

Good. He does remember...

Why this recognition on his part so pleased her she couldn't honestly fathom. Perhaps it was that there was now something more than a mere commonality between them.

They both had passed into the Darker Realms. They had both been touched by its eerie taint. And they both had come out again.

Alive... although it had taken certain magickal assistance from her Mother to make certain of that in her case.

Which brought up another question.

One hand now reaching up to draw a claw ever so lightly down the plane of Rykounagin's face, she spoke aloud and not to any one of them in particular.

"It is obvious this ship has come out of the Darker Realms," she said matter-of-factly, as if this remarkable event was nothing more than the most mundane of everyday occurances.

"Yet... how can this be...?"

She let the question drift off, drowned beneath the squawking static which conveniently hid the little tremor that had suddenly crept into her voice.

Was it Him? Was he coming now for her?

She shivered a little, dug the tip of the Tooth into the meat of her thumb so as to regain her composure. Lifting the wounded member to her lips to suck upon the richly purple blood now flowing out, she paused.

She had once relished this...

Hand halted midway to her mouth, she let it hang there, her blood now dripping down and away as she tried to pretend there was at the moment nothing in the entire universe more important than that mysterious little ship.

Rather ignorant of a base response. I think, reaching out to my love and delicately pulling her to me, though I still look out of the glass at the other craft. Embracing her in my arms, I grip the hand she has idly picked at with the blade, and bring it to my lips, planting a kiss on the wounded digit, her blood leaving the slightest stain on my lips.

My focus wavers for a moment, and I find the cockpit dimly reflected in the glass by the lights that fill it.

I have to admit, it's a rather comfortingly macabre scene. My eyes idly roam over my love held in my arms, her hand still held up to my face, the slightest glimpse of her blood there on my lips.

"Yes!" she agreed with a flash of her eyes. "I find this entire happening to be too strange to warrant us just sitting here doing nothing. They--"

She nodded toward the monitor.

"--have too conveniently approached us, and after coming from the Darker Realms. I know this to be true, for remember I--"

She faltered a moment, not sure as how much she wanted everyone to know about her background. But then she realized that Phalomir more than likely knew everything there was to know about her anyway, thanks to his relationship with her mother; and as for Shayla, well...

What her yet shaky partner truly thought of her, she simply didn't care. She only cared about accomplishing what she had vowed she would, and that was the destruction of the Pretender, Phalomir, as well as her mother.

It irked her that Shayla seemed to think they yet needed Phalomir. Perhaps something would happen to him aboard the mystery ship.

"I once existed there."

She drew in a deep breath, then let it out as if it was the battle cry she would soon be singing, the thought of which was now sending her blood pounding through her veins.

"Let us delay no longer, but get ourselves to that ship and attach to it! Then we can board it, and find out once and for all just who and what is over there, as well as what infernal games they are playing with us!"

...or at least, it used to be.

"He's right, that at least was Joao's ship," she finally admitted aloud. "Someone we know may be aboard," she observed, her voice even and unaffected despite the idea that someone of her acquantaince might be in dire straits. Pausing momentarily, Shayla turned to the navboard and keyed in a few commands. The ship's sensors began working once more.

"And what else would you prefer us do regarding them? Merely sit here and do nothing?" Shayla asked, turning a somewhat icy look Panthar's direction. "It would appear that if we don't board their ship, they may attempt boarding ours." As if on cue to that spoken thought, the sensors finished the work they had been doing, and something flashed into life on the navboard's central monitor.

The results of the scan she had implemented sent a shiver up Shayla's spine. "I get one humanoid life form reading from the ship...

...and multiple unknown readings as well."

He then turned to face the others.

I look to Shayla, my next words implying something just short of a command. "Dock with the ship. Whatever is aboard cannot be more dangerous than us, short of there being a Rancor loose or a platoon of stormtroopers with blasters. Whatever is over there I doubt will be any more lethal than the rules of reach might imply."

"Boosting transmission to -- hope you -an hear. Engines weak, not enough -- to make a burn -- not -- how we came out here, but support failing and --"

More crackles.

"Oh, enough dallying about!" she finally exclaimed as with one swift and fluid movement she joined Shayla at the navigation console. There she paused, looking over the young human's shoulder for a moment before leaning down to put her lips close to Shayla's ear.

"Do it..." she breathed in a sultry whisper, although not one so low that none other could hear what she was saying. She straightened then, regaining her former air of hauteur.

"Dock with the ship-- oh, I shall do it myself!"

With that she gave Shayla a brusque push and positioned herself on the chair beside her. There was barely enough room for the two to share seating, but both were slim with plenty of motivation not to give in. Shayla of course wanted to be the one to pilot her own ship, but the halfling, used to getting her own way, was now joining her fiance in demanding that action be taken. Shayla appeared to be dragging her feet; ShaRhylla jockeyed to retain her precarious position and reached out to the controls.

"How does one do this? Has anyone docked with another vessel before? It can't be that difficult; what does this do?"

"Wasn't that the point?" I ask Phalomir rhetorically, before moving up behind my love's appropriated chair, and bending over her shoulder to reach the controls.

Repairing ships was not something I was entirely skilled at, but piloting I could do just fine.

With a few adjustments, the ship adjusts, the sensors trying to identify an airlock. "This is going to be like putting an IV into a moving vein." I murmur, eyes locked onto the readout to pick up the sign of an airlock.

"There." I breathe quietly, making another adjustment and bringing the ship around to the side of the Devil May Care smoothly, connecting airlocks in a swift, and slightly ship-jarring motion.

...and that was exactly what was happening. And while she agreed that they needed to take matters into their own hands before whomever or whatever was aboard the other ship did so, she did not dismiss the gravity of the situation either. Shifting a bit as the Preon docked with the Devil-May-Care, Shayla toggled a switch on the navboard to ensure that the two were securely attached. Then she turned and stood even as others began heading back towards the airlock. Her eyes fell on Panthar, who was looking rather hesitant.

"Look on the bright side," she said a bit darkly. "Whatever is over there was picked up by my sensors, and should therefore corporeal...

...and can be wounded if necessary."

Shayla stood at the airlock controls and nodded to the others as they arrived. Phalomir watched her work the controls effortlessly, and in a moment the familiar hiss of a vacuum being filled and pressurized wafted through the cabin.

Phalomir stared through the portal at the other ship. It too had a portal on its airlock door, but all he could see was darkness within that ship.

"I don't see--" she began with a sniff when she nipped her words off in mid-sentence.

"Wait; something is happening."

The door finished its journey to the side and a fine mist – or smoke – slowly crept into the small space between the ships. Several seconds passed and no other activity occurred, then suddenly a red hand shot from the dark mist and slapped against the hull. It was followed by a slumped figure that stumbled from the interior and fell to its knees inside the airlock.

Phalomir reached for the airlock button, hesitated for a second, then pushed it. The airlock door on their side slid open effortlessly and in an instant the figure on the other side fell through the opening, facedown at the feet of Phalomir and ShaRhylla.

Phalomir cast a quick look at ShaRhylla, then knelt down closer to the fallen stranger.

“Yaoksi?” asked Phalomir, placing a hand on the figure’s shoulder.

A groaning sigh came from the person, then a whisper.

“I don’t understand,” said Phalomir. He bent closer. “What are you trying to say?”

“—help them—“ came a louder whisper.

“Help them?” said Phalomir, looking up to the others. “The are others on board?”

Phalomir stood and raised his eyebrows. “I don’t like it, but there may be others on board. Take care of him, he appears to be Sith.”

Phalomir then stepped through the portal and into the airlock, disappearing into the mist of the other ship. Panthar sighed and followed.

I wished that magic and the force still worked, so that I could wrap myself in invisibility as I so comfortingly did in such times of danger.

I wished I had one of my swords, particularly my lotus.

Most of all, I wished our pleasant little ride back to sithland had not been interupted by this detour, that my loving 'cuddle' with my love had not been interupted, and that we were landing on our destination at this moment, only minutes from regaining our powers.

Apparently there was a lot of room for wishes in the universe.

I slipped through the airlock behind Phalomir and Panthar, hands brushing along the walls, eyes seeking out shapes in the gloom. The sensors hadn't lied when they'd said there were multiple contacts, but currently he couldn't discern anything in the dark.

I pause as we enter into some sort of antechamber or cargo hold, the mists making it hard to peer through. I feel my hand bump into something heavy, but apparently movable, and pick it up. Some sort of trophy or idol. Regardless, it'll do in a fix.

The halfling's lips twisted in a quirky little grin when Rykounagin jumped, so stealthily had she crept up behind him. Assassin though he may be, she was Sith -- or at least half -- and had been trained by one of the most formidable Sith warriors to ever grace the universe.

Then she melted against him, her bi-colored eyes roving about, seeking to penetrate the misty gloom surrounding them.

"What has happened here?" she questioned of no one in particular. "That being behind us is Sith; why would a Sith be aboard this ship, and how could he have gotten here? Was there one aboard when this vessel went into the Darker Realms? How did it get here, with him aboard?"

She paused, suddenly aware that she was rambling a bit. Biting her lip to force her other questions into momentary hiatus, she gripped her Tooth more tightly and continued to creep slowly forward into the gloom. For a brief moment the thought that Shayla was left behind with the apparently unconscious stranger crossed her mind; snorting slightly, she kept on.

Shayla would certainly be able to fend for herself, if indeed she was truly all she had stated herself to be. Nothing other than sheer warrior would do; if the stranger turned on her, then...

Well, as far as she was concerned, she and Rykounagin were now in possession of this lovely and lethal little corvette, Captain Yaoksi Joao's Devil-May-Care.

A fair enough trade.

Shayla

She was turned at the moment, perhaps grabbing a weapon or medical kit to help the poor unfortunates on the other ship.

A smile briefly crossed the face of the stranger, then he let out another moan of pain. Not that he was in any pain, not physical. It was to hide the sound of his feet as he gathered himself in and stood abruptly, his massive frame now apparent as he let the large black robe fall from his back. Before Shayla could turn to see what was happening, he slapped the control of the airlock door and sent his other hand whirling through the air to catch Shayla in the side of the head. She flew several feet to the side, the contents of her hands skittering to the floor, and collided with the bulkhead.

“Hello again,” said the Dark One, not really caring if Shayla was unconscious or awake, and worked another control to lock the airlock door. A red light began to flash furiously outside as he sent the command to disengage the ships.

For a moment he wondered if the door on the other ship would close easier than it opened. It was badly damaged, after all. But didn't these sort of things take a few seconds?

It wasn't much, simply the frame of a luckily open hatch, but it was enough to halt her movement and give her something to drag her body up against. Se did so with the greatest effort ever expended in her life, her flaming locks flying willy-nilly in the maddening rush of wind, eyes tearing against the ferocity of it.

"Rykounagin!" she screamed as peered into the gloom, her vision obscured by her tears. But she couldn't see a thing; the eerie mist was so intense, the darkness so nearly complete that it was as if she was inside of a great, dark ball. All she could do was clutch the bulkhead with all of her strength, and hope that whatever was producing the sudden hurricane would stop.

Little did she realize that when it would do so, it would mean not only her own death but that of every member in the little boarding party.

The ship has lost its seal!

Without hesitation he ran with the air current, stumbling to keep his footing as the force of the air movement beckoned him to move faster towards oblivion. Rykounagin was pressed against a wall, struggling to pry himself from it yet maintain a hold. He was reaching out for something…

ShaRhylla! She was losing her battle to grip the bulkhead she clung to.

Phalomir grabbed the edge of the wall next to Rykounagin, his feet wanting desperately to break contact with the ground. He moved one leg up so his foot was planted against the wall next to Rykounagin’s head, then stretched out with his other hand towards SharRhylla.

“Take it!” he called out, his words nearly lost in the rush of wind. She made no move, whether from fright, lack of strength, or trust. Phalomir roared and stetched further, straining his back, and grabbed her wrist. With a pull he jerked ShaRhylla from her precarious grip and brought her through the air, pulling her close to his chest with his arm wrapped securely around her. He then took a deep breath of the thinning air and turned his body quickly, practically throwing ShaRhylla into Rykounagin. The boy’s position was much more secure, and he immediately grabbed onto ShaRhylla and held her in place.

Phalomir’s grip was gone, and he flew threw the air towards the open hatchway. He saw the approach of open space through the blackness of the hatch, and flung his hand out in time to grab the bulkhead over the hatch. His legs dangled into the blackness of space while with one hand he held tightly, and with the other he worked the control on the wall. The door began to move, but slowly and irregularly. He grimaced and forced himself back into the ship fully. The force of the air seemed to be lessening, which overall was not good but did for the moment allow him to grab the edge of the door and pull, hoping to aid its progress.

Phalomir felt something press against his back, then a hand reached from behind and grabbed the door below where he gripped it. Panthar was here! Phalomir closed his eyes and pulled with all of his strength and after a moment the door broke free from its jam and slid shut, locking with a click.

Phalomir fell backwards to the floor and struggled for breath. The air would eventually repressurize as the generators worked, but right now there was not much to breathe. He heard a raspy panting next to him, and he opened his eyes and looked around for Panthar.

I swore profusely, including a few comments involving the promiscuity of a Twilek's mother, though my words were stolen by the wind.

I let out a gasp of relief as the wind suddenly cut out, moments after Phalomir had shot past towards the airlock. Looking to ShaRhylla: "Are you alright?"

Eyes taking in the slightly shocked nod she gave me, I hugged her briefly before letting go and turning the corner to look at the airlock where Phalomir was slumped next to a large... something.

Changed.

And that change hadn't really manifested itself, indeed hadn't been able to do so, until the Darkness he worshipped as his Master had taken it upon himself to appropriate the lovely little ship he himself had so lovingly rent with his razor sharp claws, and dragging he and some of his brethren along for the ride had gone out on the hunt.

Or so he had thought. But then again, he was an imp: slobbering, gibbering, and indeed not quite the brightest crayon in the box.

Now he suddenly found himself huddled halfway against the edge of the ship's hatch, which the hulking being had just closed. The fact that the rushing wind had stopped didn't really faze him, he was too busy poking and prodding his new flesh... well, at least it was new to him. He had been outside of his dimension before, several times in fact, but this was the first time he had found himself "stuck" in corporeality. It was a new sensation, and he wasn't sure if he liked it yet or not. So he kept on poking a razored claw into his flesh, over and over, cocking his head with interest to see the black ichor that oozed from his self-inflicted wounds.

But...

What he did find irksome was the loud raging coming from another being now hunkered behind him. He turned his head 180 degrees, like an owl, and gave the rash young man a rather disconcerting glance as he ceased ripping into his own skin and let responsive instincts rush into him.

They said...

Kill.

With the swiftness of a hunting dianoga he whirled about, his long scorpion's tail lashing, venom dripping from it's deadly sting. He hunched, baring his fangs in a hiss, when the hulking being now behind him made some sort of noise. Perhaps it was going to the aid of the irritating one; he rolled one eye toward the being, who had by now turned to face him fully.

Instinct or no, all upwelling urges to kill rushed from him, leaving him somewhat puzzled and as deflated as an imp could become. It cocked its head, blinked.

"M-aaa-sssssst-ter--?" he hissed in query before lowering his tail into a protective coil about himself and bowing his head. True, Master did smell somewhat odd, but perhaps that was to be expected. Things were a bit different from what he was used to, for this wasn't truly their realm now, was it?

That’s am imp… what the--?

Then it spoke.

Master? Why would it call Phal ‘master’? And what is it doing here? And why did the ships get separated? And where is Shayla? And who was that guy in the airlock? And—

Guy in the airlock?

Master?

Phal--?

“Yes!” he shouted, moving forward. “Yes, that is your master! Lord of the imps, master of the darkness, doer of all badness and generally nasty dude!”

Phalomir puzzled a quizzical look towards Panthar.

“Because the imps would naturally follow the new Lord of the Darker Realms, or whatever he is, right? And who is that new lord of the Darker Realm? Why, Phalomir, of course, right? Not his wimpy clone, right? I mean, I saw it happen right before my eyes, along with Shayla and Jharmeen.”

Phalomir cocked his head, his mouth open and trying to comprehend these words. On top of the events of the last few minutes, this was not an easy task. But he nodded his trust of Panthar and turned slowly to the beast before him.

“Yes,” said Phalomir.

“That’s my boy,” said Panthar. He tried to catch his breath, and indeed the air was slowly beginning to return to its normal density. But his breath stopped – along with his heart for a moment – as the gibbering and slavering noises began behind him.

“Oh boy,” he muttered.

Our ship, she reminded herself as turning, she followed the path taken by her fiancé. Then she stopped, utterly shocked, not so much due to surprise but rather in reaction to a sight that was strangely common, somehow mundane to her.

An imp.

Something welled up within her as she took in the sight of the demonic being now kow-towing before Phalomir.

No! He is that which I shall kill; he shall NOT take unto himself that which once was mine!

Moving forward quickly now, she went to the pair, stopping before the creature and the towering Pretender.

“Do you not remember me?” she cried out, tossing her hair, her Tooth held in her hand; nevermind the little fact that she hadn’t so much as one drop of magick or power to her name. That mattered not; what did was that once she was Queen of the Dark, and in that capacity had complete power over this minion of the Realm.

“You shall obey me, as you once did; not this one who goes behind a mask, who is not who you believe him to be! He is pretender; I am the one who once took you and your kind to my soul, who fed you my blood; dare you to forget this?

“You shall say them nay!”

The viewscreen showed a blanket of nothing. He did not like this, but again that was an issue for later. There were stars somewhere, he was sure, and once he figured out the nav computer then that issue would be resolved. For now, though, there was other business to attend.

“Hello there,” he said, flipping the communication button. “I know you can hear me, I left the channel open on my end. By now you’ve either perished or have managed to close the door. If I am speaking to a ghost ship, then I do apologize to my imps. It was a pleasure. If you’ve managed to live, however, then I take great delight in telling you that your Shayla has been promoted. No longer shall the Darker Realms suffer the treacherous scorn of a halfling who so flippantly changes her mind and forget her vows. She has been deemed… unworthy. I’ve always heard that blondes make better heirs. So enjoy your new freedom, and your new ship, for the next few seconds you have with it. Oh, and for my clone… I do believe father liked me best.”

He whistled again, smiling. He searched the control board gleefully and laughed out loud when he spotted the triggers for the ship’s weapon systems. He swung the ship around until the Devil May Care was in the viewscreen, then stopped the ship.

He hunched, now whipping his six-foot tail over his back, reaching the poisonous sting of it out over his head to where he could strike her easily with it. Instead, he lowered the tip, planting the tip of it carefully against the decking.

"Misss-tressss..." he hissed before turning back to Phalomir and repeating the gesture.

"Masss-terrr..."

Now from the corridor behind the little party, the slobbering and gibbering sounds came louder, accompanied by the scrape of claw and sting against deck and bulkhead. Maladius took a final look at the pair he had accepted as his new Master and Mistress before making a gigantic leap from mid-crouch, sailing over the halfling's head to land behind her. He let his momentum carry him on as he raced down the corridor, turning a corner to come face to face with his brethren.

He hissed, snapped his jaws, drool flying, gestured with his tail and one foreleg. His bloody, pupilless eyes glittered in the misty gloom, drilling the information he was carrying into the simple minds of the remaining imps, willing them to accept as had he the change in their parameters.

The onslaught of perhaps two dozen imps ground to a halt... save for a trio who would not broach such nonsense. With slavering gibbers of their own they leapt in unison, startling their brothers with their alacrity, and sailed completely over Maladius' body. En passing, they whipped at him with their tails, sending him off his feet and crashing toward the others, to act as a block as they continued following the last orders they throught they had received from their Dark Master:

Kill the intruders.

Thus it was that while Maladius lay in a tangle of imps, scrabbling to regain his footing, the three charged around the corner, covering the remaining short distance to where Rykounagin stood with lightning efficiency. They didn't even pause to slobber out their usual death threat, but together leapt toward him, claws outstretched, but luckily tails at the moment stretched behind them, due to the somewhat restricted confines of the corridor.

The Dark... her once love; could that indeed ever have been Entaris, or what the forms he took embodied? But that Darkness, that which had made her his Queen his Dark Rose...

Now he tossed her aside like so much dirty laundry!

It was too much for her to bear. She truly didn't care one iota how he now felt for her, for indeed thanks to the budding but steadily growing love now developing between her and Rykounagin she was beginning to see that It had never loved her to begin with. It merely used her for its own vicious pleasure, manipulated her to create his twin offspring...

His offspring!

Memory of their two Dark Daughters flashed through her head, all in a split second.

They had their daughters, yet he was now spouting off again about creating an heir. Two of them existed; had he forgotten? Or was he trying for a son...?

She shook her head, crushing the quandary down when Maladius interrupted her rage by first bowing to her, then leaping over Rykounagin to barrel down the corridor behind him. She was in mid-movement, to return to Rykounagin's side, when something ever-so-slight, just barely there, caught at the corner of her eye. She squinted, peering toward the portal in the ship's hatch; taking a few quick steps she was afront it, her hands against the cold durasteel as with widening eyes she watched what was now happening outside. It was indeed difficult to see, as what feeble light reaching them from their home galaxy was in a band behind it. But that same feeble light created a dim silhouette; that she could see.

She gasped, more out of sheer affrontery than fear.

"The ship, it is moving out, it is... no. It is turning around, it is coming to face us..." She turned from the hatch to deliver this startling news, only to see three pairs of ruby eyes rapidly growing in the gloom.

Standing in their direct line of fire was her fiance.

"Rykounagin!" she screamed in warning as with Tooth in hand she rushed away from the hatch, shoving past Phalomir and Panthar. Truly something was not right; why were the imps yet attacking?

If that was true, then perhaps the clone was taken by the Master to complete that dark deal that had been intended for Phalomir himself. That defining moment in his life when hw turned on his own father and the dark, tar-thing that had come to take the young Phalomir into the Darker Realms. Was that a real memory? Perhaps it was after all.

Then in that case, the clone was now taken by the Darker Realms, and was now the master of these imps. And at least one imp thought this clone was here with them now.

It thinks I am its master, the dark clone…

Phalomir’s eyes widened, and he took two long steps to plant himself back next to the first imp. Other imps were encroaching upon ShaRhylla and Rykounagin, and in the narrow corridor Phalomir could not reach them in time.

“NO!” he shouted, his voice booming in the ship’s interior. “These are not to be harmed!”

The eyes, aglow in the dim corridor, turned to him. Phalomir’s heart raced as he calculated the odds of taking just one of these creatures with his bare hands, not liking the results.

“We need them,” he continued. “This ship needs a crew – a human crew. And a Sith, it needs Sith too.” Phalomir glanced at Panthar. He had no idea just how literal these things would be, and in the heat of the moment he didn’t have time to be eloquent.

“So leave them alone,” he said. “And let us focus our energies on the imposter that is still aboard the other ship, before he ruins my plans!”

Whatever that is. What was that about an heir?

"We go!" he hissed as with a great bound he headed back to where he had left the others. He barreled into their company just in time to see the trio leap toward Rykounagin, just in time to hear the words his Master bellowed forth.

He screeched to a halt, dithering. He knew the imps were not to attack; indeed, that was why he had returned. But Master commanded they halt, so halt he did. All he could do was watch as the three went into some aerial acrobatics themselves a wonder to behold, as as a whole they sought now to transform their leap to Rykounagin into a leap toward anyplace else.

Two managed the feat, if barely. The third did not, however; his only reward was lights out as the young man bashed him over the head with some object he had been holding. Behind him, his Mistress was making terrible noises, rushing up to the human and taking him against her, becoming noisier by the minute with sounds no Queen of the Dark should be making.

But Queen she had been, and Mistress she still was, so he allowed her the momentary departure from her normal bearing, turning his attention now toward his Master. He kow-towed again, raising his tail and once again planting the tip of it's sting upon the decking.

"We sssstop..." he hissed as he crept forward, pausing only long enough to lash his tail at the two imps who had rushed Rykounagin. They had just regained their footing; the impact they received sent them flying back, knocking now against Panthar and shoving him against the bulkhead.

Maladius paid no attention to this. He merely crouched down before Phalomir, casting looks his way which were interspersed with the occasional ones he sent to ShaRhylla.

"We are safe from our Dark Minions," she stated flatly, giving a succinct nod toward the groveling denizens of Hell. "But we are yet in peril; Shayla's ship appears to be coming in to attack."

She drilled Phalomir with a look which simply stated, Believe me, I know this. And indeed, it was rather obvious to the halfling. By the token of the very words it had spouted out in premature (well, at least for the moment) victory, she knew the being now aboard Preon to be her once Dark Love and Master. He had dismissed her for Shayla; she knew his -- or rather, It's modus operandi all too well, for hadn't she lived with it, given everything she possibly could to it, even (although due to the block her mother had placed in her mind, she didn't clearly recall the hideous fact of it) her own death, over and over? It's parameters were simple, that she could now see with all too crystal hindsight:

It lived for itself, to gain all it could for itself. It used what and who it could, however it could, solely to obtain its own selfish ends. And once it was finished using something or someone, it did not bother to simply leave it.

It destroyed it.

"We are in grave danger," she hastened on, giving Phalomir's shoulder a small, insistent tug, as if by that very motion she could will him into believing her words. She kept her eyes pinned upon his, for the moment her disdain and hatred of him diminished before the magnitude of the peril they all found themselves in.

"We must do something, and quickly."

...but by who, exactly? And why? Wasn't everybody just getting ready to board the other ship?

With this thought, Shayla sat upright with a start...

...at least, mostly. Something wet and sticky and reddish trickled down from her forehead and into her eyes, blurring her vision slightly...

...but not entirely. Off to the side, Shayla could see that the airlock door was now sealed, and that they were seemingly no longer connected to another ship. She swiped the red substance--her own blood--out of her eyes even as her ears picked up on the sound of a deep male voice that at first listen appeared to belong to Phalomir. But logic began to point out that he had been boarding the other ship, and they had not been able to make any contact with anyone from it via the commlink...

...so why would Phalomir be attempting that again? Intelligible words began to waft through Shayla's lifting fog, which was doubt perpetrated by yet another concussion.

"Shayla....promoted...scorn of a halfling...mind..unworthy. Blondes...heirs..."

The "Phalomir" now speaking was so full of himself that his voice was practically booming...

...and almost certainly could not be the Phalomir that Shayla knew. Scorn of a halfling? Blondes? HEIRS?

A chill raced up Shayla's spine. Self-preservation kicked in and, despite any injuries, Shayla knew she couldn't remain in her current position because something was definitely wrong. She lowered her hand to her weapons belt then, only to realize that her sword was no longer in place. Scanning the area around her, she found what she sought, got quietly to her feet, and picked up the weapon with an elegance only one who had handled a sword could. Gripping the hilt, she began to move silently towards the cabin. With each step, the words of the arrogant “Phalomir voice” became more and more clear. With each step she began to have an inkling of just who...

...or perhaps more aptly What she was probably with. And that pushed her into action. She didn't have any idea what had happened, and how they had been seperated or who might still be aboard the ship if anyone...

...but she knew who at least appeared to be piloting the Preon.

Self-preservation kicked in full-throttle. Pausing for just a moment outside the cockpit of the Preon, Shayla got her barings and made up her mind regarding what she was about to do...

...and then set herself to the task at hand.

He's coporeal now, she reminded herself as she moved in. So enrapt in his boastings via the communit, the Phalomir clone never saw what was coming until it was too late. No doubt hearing motion behind him, the clone turned, a smouldering smile plastered on his face...

“You had me until that last sentence,” he said, the smile not fading. “It was a bit hard to follow. But I have to hand it to you, my dear, you’re going to be ever so much fun than that hot-tempered slip of a thing that always thought herself so big. But a pawn? You? Oh, never. You are much too important for that.”

He looked again at the wrist, then glanced down to the floor at the hand that lie there.

“That was a tremendously accurate blow,” he said. “Or at least I hope it was. You weren’t aiming for something else, were you?” He chuckled at himself.

“But this squabble aside, my dear, I need your help. There are a number of people in that ship over there, each of which I think you have expressed a certain disdain for. Now, mind you, I know we’ve had our misunderstandings but I really do promise to treat you better. In fact, I plan to treat you like a queen. But small steps first, as this gift I present to you. All I need to know is which button shoots the big nasty laser thingies at that ship over there? All of your problems go away, or least a great many of them, and I promise to help rid yourself of your other worries. Oh, and would you be a dear and help? My button pushing abilities have been cut in half.”

...very accurate. That was the single thing that made her pause. But as much as there was truth in what he had spoken, Shayla read beyond to what the Dark Phalomir wasn't saying as well. And aside from her growing dissatisfaction with some of the parties on the other ship, and her hatred of at least two of them...

...she loathed being manipulated even less. And the Darkness wasn't the only one with an agenda, after all.

At length Shayla lowered her sword slightly, cocking her head to the side and allowing her eyes to defocus in apparent thought and consideration. Then they snapped alert and rested on those of the Dark Phalomir.

"You must know I will not be so easily convinced," she admitted. "Even so, those aboard the other ship are useless to me."

She paused. her greeny-blue eyes scanning the Preon's navboard. Taking Dark Phalomir up on his offer to take control of the ship, Shayla brushed past him, stepping over the severed hand on the floor as though nothing at all was out of place in its presence on the bulkhead. As she seated herself at the pilot's station she made a final, and possibly damning, decision. Knowing that nobody knew where they were in space, or time for that matter, Shayla took a gamble. Her fingers played deftly across the controls of the navboard. Although she was without the Force or anything else to sense it, Shayla could almost feel the rising glee of the Dark One behind her as something lit up on the navboard controls that he must have assumed were the lasers coming online.

His joy was probably short-lived. Shayla punched a glowing button, and the Preon responded by yawing sharply to the left, throwing Dark Phalomir from his feet and into the bulkhead as the ship's viewscreen splayed out into hyperspace lines for a short jump 5 parsecs away to who knew where. After all, if the Preon didn't know where she was in space, and its pilot didn't either, they could end up most anywhere.

“This ship must have been piloted here,” he yelled. “Take Panthar to the controls and get us out of here NOW! Rykounagin can man the weapons, take him to those!”

Panthar didn’t wait for the imp to respond. His own sense of urgency took over and he ran for the front of the ship, hoping he was making the correct assumption.

“ShaRhylla, find something to hold onto,” he called out. “Perhaps this Darker Realms material can withstand the blast, who knows? But there is nothing else we can do except wish that ship away! I will go help Panthar!”

Phalomir glanced once more at the surreal scene before him, imps and mist in the emergency lights. He ventured one more quick look outside to see if the ship had come fully around…

But it was not there.

He stopped and stared, his eyes then flickering around to see if the ship had moved.

Expecting yet more madness, she looked this way and that, trying to find something to hang onto. The best object was her fiance, who she then clutched as tight as she could, preparing for what she supposed would be some sort of bone-rattling explosion. But nothing happened; no strange sounds assailed her ears other than the eerie whines and slobbers of the imps, and the distant under-his-breath mutters Panthar was uttering somewhere ahead of her, words or curses she couldn't quite tell as they were too diffuse for even her keen Sith ears to catch.

A few more seconds ticked past; slowly she moved back from Rykounagin but still kept her hands in contact with his body.

"Rykounagin--?" she asked in an extremely quiet voice, then pulled away completely and hurried back to the hatch they had just left. She shouldered past Phalomir and grasped the frame, peering out into the majesty of Everything exposed to her view by the tiny porthole.

All she could see was the band of stars.

"It is gone!" she affirmed, now craning her head this way and that as she tried to take in the entirety of the limited space provided by the duraglass. But there was nothing to be seen, just a black-limned band of distant stars.

She pulled back, first shooting Phalomir and then Rykounagin a puzzled look, but one that rapidly segued into a frown.

"Has it changed its course? Is it now behind us? Has Panthar used the sensors to see if it has just moved to another spot before attacking us?"

She shook her head in annoyance; as a warrioress she far prefered a straight-on confrontation to sneaking about. But likewise her gut was telling her that their opponent preferred something of the same; she knew the Darkness, knew it had them in its sights, and knew they should already have felt the brunt of its attack. She didn't think it was the type to play cat-and-mouse with them for too long a time; it bored far to quickly and easily for that.

Therefore, to her way of thinking, it was indeed gone.

"I cannot see Preon!" she continued in a louder voice, one she hoped that Panthar would hear from the bridge.

“They had power,” he muttered. “This ship was moving under its own power all along.”

He was not aware of how much time had passed, but hoped that he could fire up the engines in time to move them out of the line of fire. But then came the calls from the aft, giving him pause. He flicked the slimy mucous from his fingers and worked the sensors.

“It’s gone alright!” he called back after a few seconds. “They must have jumped into hyperspace because there’s no sign of them anywhere.”

“No sign of nothin’,” he added, quietly. "Well, Shayla must have gotten the hyperdrive working and--”

And what? Was she flying the ship? Why would she leave? And if that mysterious stranger was who everyone suspected it was, why didn't he fire?

The imp behind him grunted and clicked, startling Panthar. He turned in the seat and pointed at the imp.

“Don’t do that!” he cried. “It’s bad enough being trapped in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of hell demons, I don’t need them scaring me to death every time I turn my back!”

Panthar paused, one part of his mind making plans to check the hyperdrive and run a systems diagnostic to see if anything was really wrong with the ship, but another part of his brain raised a question that made all other thoughts wait their turn.

“So just what the heck ARE you all doing out here? ” he asked the imp.

He bent down and picked up the severed hand, regarding it. He fitted it back onto the sticky, wet wound that was his wrist and let go, but it fell back to the floor. He shrugged and picked it back up.

However, the minutes slipped by as my eyes regarded the readouts, panning the barrels of the weapons system about in space. They're gone. All the better for them perhaps.

After all, treachery was on the top of my list of punishable deeds. There was only one sentence in my court, and that was death.

"They're not within weapons range. For any range for that matter. Seems they did make a jump." I finally say, getting up from a combat station and batting an imp out of the way, as the devilish thing had followed me there.

She paused then, her eyes defocusing.

And why the Hell did you make the choice you did Shayla Stargazer? Could it be that, after all, you don't have the true stuff that you need to get rid of Phalomir, who is clueless, and ShaRhylla, who belittles you despite your promise of allegiance to her?

"And it has nothing to do with any of your empty promises either."

He sat down in the co-pilot’s seat and leaned back. His smile faded only slightly as he regarded Shayla.

Not to mention that, even if Dark Rose no longer, she was yet Queen of the Dark. At least to the viewpoint of the imps.

Which might indeed be used to their distinct advantage at some future point.

But as for the here and now... she sniffed, drew herself up in a manner befitting herself and gave Rykounagin a chaste little kiss on the smooth plane of his cheek.

"I agree, my love," she said simply, her bi-colored eyes flashing as one hand flew down to grasp the hilt of her sword.

"While it is heinous to me that we run like whipped womprats, as our powers are gone it would more than likely be best to depart this area. We do not know if Shayla is in control of Preon or not, although I would think she is. Otherwise I am certain we would by now be nothing more than debris floating here...

"Wherever here is."

She pursed her lips in a frowning pout as the threat of imminent death segued into one of a more prolonged anguish. They had no idea where they were, nor did they have any notion as how to return to where they had come from. Or at least how to re-enter their galaxy.

Yet that ship had found a means of finding them, oh so coincidentally. Perhaps the means by which they did yet existed, somewhere about them?

She said as much to her beloved, now pulling him from his station in the weapon's pod.

"We must leave here," she reiterated, tugging him out and against her. For a moment they stood, hard against each other, staring into each other's eyes. A little thrill rushed through her; she pushed it away with queenly haughteur.

"Perhaps Panthar can devise a means to find the path by which this ship has arrived here? Perhaps we can depart from this place ourselves too, before Preon returns?"

She had no doubts whatsoever that once her former Dark Lord and Master gained what he wanted from Shayla, he would be back to easily destroy them. Preon was new and slick, not to mention well-armed; as far as she knew Devil-May-Care's little stint in the Darker Realms warped and molded parts of it that they might direly need.

And she certainly did not wish to discover whether this idea bore actual fruit by testing it in battle.

"Come, my love. We must go to the bridge."

This was an extremely fascinating thing, to his simple way of thinking. And so, when his thoughts on the subject were rudely interrupted by Panthar's query, he couldn't help himself. It was only at the verrrry last instant that he remembered this being hung about his Master, and if he, Maladius, brought him to harm then he, Maladius, might find himself pitched out into space. Not that being pitched into space would actually kill him, even in his corporeal state.

But it certainly would be awkward.

And so the poison-dripping tip he lashed instinctively out against Panthar swerved in its course in the verrrry last minute, slamming into the navigation panel next to Panthar's resting hand. Black ichor oozed from it to drip down the slick metallic surface and onto the deck.

He regarded Panthar with his bloody, pupilless eyes.

"I not know," he said simply, withdrawing his tail to wrap it about himself. "Master say, 'in ship go' so in ship I go, we go. Master say we come, we find, we kill. Master find way from home to place so strange; Maladius not liking this place."

He hunkered into a little ball -- well, as much as the term "little" could be associated with an imp of the Darker Realms -- and tightened his tail about himself. Cocking his head, he curled his upper lip, letting a string of drool dribble down upon his front claws.

"Master say you drive ship. You takes Master and Maladius home now, no?"

“Uh,” he said, “sure. Maybe. But you, um, need to stop trying to kill the equipment. And me, don’t try to kill me either. Or anyone else.”

Panthar turned around nervously to again face the instruments. The lights seemed to still be blinking and whirling as usual.

“But especially me. Don’t try to kill me. And the equipment. We need it.”

He sighed deeply and reached for the nav board to lay in a course. A sudden bleakness crossed his mind and he paused, hand mid air, and closed his eyes.

“I don’t know where we are or where to go,” he whispered to himself. He opened his eyes and stared out at the darkness before him.

“If I knew for sure which way the galaxy – our galaxy – really was… then maybe I could set a course that would take us only a few generations. Or if we could get back into hyperspace and find something to bump into… but no, we’d probably end up in a worse place. It is just so dark out there. Darker than hell…”

He shook his head and turned around once more to face the imp.

I nod and take a step towards the bridge, making sure my love is coming along before continuing.

As we step through the threshold, we are witness to Panthar's rather depressing explanation of our predicament to the imp.

"Yes Maladius... perhaps you can explain what you were doing out here in the black in the first place." I say, folding my arms and looking down at the creature, my distaste for the creature kept in quiet check.

She quieted, her eyes betraying little. I want find Graysith.

Like a peer.

This didn't settle well with a denizen of the Dark, one not only born of pure evil but one who was the very epitome of it, and one whose very reason for being was simply to bring terror, pain and death to corporeal creatures.

Whether dead or alive... and not necessarily in that order.

And here these-- these-- living things were treating him like one of their own, asking him questions, poking into his soul, expecting him to answer! The idea made him tremble with rage; clenching his forehands into tight balls of fury, the razor tips of each finger gouging deep indentations into the decking beneath him, he slowly let the tail he had been playing with unravel and hoist threateningly over his head. But...

That being hung about with Master. And this one was with his dark Mistress, who was lazing against him in a most unQueenly manner, at least as far as the Darker Realms was concerned. But...

It was only due ot those two simple facts that he refrained from impaling them both with lightning quick slashes, and instead hunkered down into an even tighter ball of barely contained fury. He slit his eyes, no mean feat for one lacking pupils, and turned his head slowly from one to the other, regarding both Panthar and Rykounagin. As the young man was behind him, and Panthar in front, looking from one to the other resulted in his head swiveling 180 degrees in a most disconcerting manner.

At length he deigned to speak.

"With Master I come here, this Master knows. You know this now!"

Quick as lightspeed, his tail lashed out and thunked into the decking in front of Rykounagin, a clear indicator of whom that statement was directed toward. He then let his head swivel back to Panthar.

"Lovely, lovely Darkness is home, home is here."

With some effort he raised himself up on his haunches, steadying himself with the tail he now briefly coiled behind him, and reaching out with both forelimbs he made a sweeping motion, indicating an area a full 360 degrees around him.

"Home is here, but not here," he finished as with a resounding thump he slammed back onto the deck, wrapping his tail about himself again so as to more easily lap at the poison that was oozing from its tip.

“Well,” he said at length, “that indeed is a truly philosophical question. What am I? Well, I’m the son of a poor sharecropper, born into poverty at an early age and forced into slave labor when I was four. Not buying that? Well, then let’s just say that first and foremost I am the Lord of the Dark Realms. None can possibly dispute that now, the power flows within me. Hey, wanna see something? Watch this!”

He raised his hand before him and pointed a finger at the floor. A smile curled on his lips as he called forth the power to shoot a small demonstrative streak of lightning across the room.

But nothing happened.

The smile turned into a frown as he stared, hand still raised. His mouth twisted in puzzlement.

Quieting then, Shayla's greeny-blue eyes defocused for a few moments before snapping alert once more as a thought occurred to her. She regarded the Dark Phalomir. "If you are as powerful as you claim, then why are you here at all? Could it be that we mere mortals possess something you don't, that you want?"

She trailed, already feeling she knew the answer...

...and quite troubled by it. Suddenly being sans-power seemed like an advantage of sorts instead of the handicap she had once thought it to be. If she was a pawn in a game played by Something Much Greater, perhaps Something or Someone was looking out for those sentient after all...

“Mere mortals? Is that what you consider yourself?”

He leaned back against the bulkhead, a small look of genuine wonder in his eyes. The arrogance and pompousness were gone.

“Or do you mock me? I have done the unthinkable in underestimating your power, and I bow humbly to your strength. But your demonstration here does not frighten me, do please do not think me a fool who will tremble before you. I am enlightened, and I am humbled, and I see that the fascination and admiration I hold for you are well founded. I harbor no ill will for you, Shayla, and indeed hope you will come to like me. But first, if I may ask…”

The Dark One leaned forward a bit, curiosity running rampant on his face.

“How did you do that?”

That which some have come to think of as Which Was reared its wonderful one-ness back into the omnipotent non-ness of what it was/wasn't; cradled its quite unique non-ness into the accepting arms of the all-encompassing one-ness and let go a little, virtual smile. It took a look about its non-self, taking in the grandeur of ALL there was, the ALL of which some little portions of it were now being allowed to awaken to the fact that their gradually progressing perceptions of it were on the right track.

There was a time Man thought HE was the center of it all. In response to that silliness time was given; Man then thought his little celestial body was. Then his little stellar; oh, such wonderful beings those stellars. Perhaps one day their language would finally be deciphered by the other pieces at play.

He/she/it shook a figurative head, smiled more smugly at the Progression Of Things, which albeit slow was at least on an accurate track.

One day those little motes awoke to the fact that there was more, oh indeed quite more; their tunneled little view expanded its paradigms and took a leap of faith.

Stellars existed, vast quantities of them in wonderful pin-wheeling units. At first only each individual one was recognized by the motes inhabiting it, but slowly, bit by bit, in a manner yet evolving, each little bit grew cognizant of the fact that there were more, there were hundreds, millions, billions of those units, each in turn encompassing billions of stellar brothers.

That the stellars were the true Life of the Universe was not yet understood by the little motes dwelling in the All-ness; it was enough that they now looked out toward a universe with tiny eyes that were gradually opening in recognition of the fact that perhaps the better term was in fact Universes...

"Hey, unfair move! That's partiality!" The cry from him/her/itself came from behind him/her/itself.

That-Which-Was took up some stuff of what is, coalesed it into the brilliant ultraviolet-and-chrome Eyes of which he/she/it had become quite fond, and cast them behind his/her/itself.

A figurative sigh was heaved.

"We hoped we wouldn't have noticed..." it non-said, then muttered in further rejoinder, "But a fair move had been made."

Nothing back but a snort; he/she/it sighed, and then waved a figurative hand.

The fabric of Stuff which wove together existence of both forms, be it living or non, rippled, gathered into an immensely tiny little bunch, and exploded outward in the virtual equivalent of a Big Bang.

Here and there certain motes began waking up, some in surprise, some with regret, but one by one those certain few began to wake up as if from a deep slumber.

The Other still wasn't satisfied. "We're not just giving it away!" it protested, the non-words loud and born in total effrontery.

That-Which-Was merely snorted.

"Of course not. Balance must be maintained; it must always be maintained. We know that, and some of us still know it at different degrees, at different levels than others.

"We'll see now..."

The Other muttered beneath its non-breath. "We still think you're making up the Rules as you go along! But we'll wait.

She trailed, somehow surprised by her own words. "...and I think we all should consider ourselves thus."

Quieting then, Shayla's eyes defocused, and she pursed her lips thoughtfully for a moment before they snapped alert once more. "But what do you mean? How did I do...

...what?"

Her final words were truncated somewhat as the sudden ripple of something began to touch the depths of her senses, from a place that was not-felt for quite some time. The empty place in her soul wasn't empty anymore...

...and perhaps...

Shayla didn't let a smidgeon of her thoughts show outwardly. Instead she let her look shift to something totally different and much softer.

The Dark One straightened as well as he could, the smile returning to his face.

“I am suffering, badly. Not physically, mind you – although a severed hand is a bit annoying. But no, my dear, I am suffering from a broken heart. I was betrayed by those I held close and then rejected by the one apple in my eye. You can imagine how distraught I must be. But I persevere, as I always have. I was offering her greatness, anything she wished, but she chose poorly. But then it opened my eyes to something greater. Something better, more real. You.”

The Dark One leaned forward a little, his eyes seeming to twinkle.

He returned his gaze to the viewscreen and bleakness it showed, trying not to think about the imp.

“Now, if only we could find the way back into the Darker Realms, we might be able to somehow open a portal back to the Sith worlds, or someplace near that. I’d settle for an outer rim world, whatever.”

He then did turn back to the imp.

...a terrible, horribly wrong choice. Presented with placating my own wants and wishes and continuing on a path to b e a part of something much Greater and Grander, I chose the former."

She quieted for a long moment, her eyes defocusing once more, this time stretching out to that which she had been without for a seeming eternity, recalling her alarm at the thought that her Son had merely fizzled into non-Existence because powers could no longer be felt.

And recalling that, in the end, she had determined that her meager need to sense him there was really quite unimportant. There were so many more greater, far more important things, at stake, just as there had been so long ago when she had chosen to save Erik and others she cared for instead of continuing on in her training, to do the work needed for the Greater Good of All.

In turning against them, we will save them all.

“Yes, being part of something greater and grander. That I can fulfill. Free? Back to the way things were...? That we will work on. It is funny you should ask of the Yuuzhan Vong, though, for I was just speaking of them the other day with an old acquaintance of yours. Do you remember the being who calls himself The Master? Such arrogance, to make everyone refer to you as if you were a slave. But anyway, before I beat him into a bloody pulp, he was asking of them as well. What he told me was that they were coming to your galaxy, that they were in league with something or someone there yadda yadda, and that he had been promised the power to defeat them. He demanded that I give him that power… well, anyway.”

“Why do you ask?”

He felt helpless.

A rage welled within him, and he longed for the ability to send them back home. He should be able to, but without his magick he was just a muscle-bound giant with tattoos on his head.

He grunted his anger and called for the powers that he knew would not answer, but he wished beyond hope that they would.

Sparks flew from his fingers.

Phalomir stared at his hands, a feeling of warmth flooding him, like a greeting from an old long lost friend. His mouth curled into a slight smile, and he looked up to the others in the cabin.

She paused, her look shifting to something unreadable. "I was, after all, connected to a certain chrome-eyed warrior aboard a Warship while possessed by Darkness not of my own."

She cocked her head, frowning a bit. "On a Sith world, no less," she commented. "Interesting. Very Interesting."

"In league with them? My dear, how could that be if I know nothing about them! Perhaps if I even knew who they are or why they would want to come to this galaxy... But still. The Darkness, you say? That Darkness is within me now, bound to me. Do not be frightened, I am its avatar and it will do no harm to those I bless. It tells me everything, and it has spoken nothing to me of these Vong."

Inside the dark one, a small bit of blackness oozed in a distinctively agitated way. The dark one shifted to alleviate the sudden pain in his back.

Sith magick. It is the fire, the lightning; I did not know he possessed such a thing, only the Sorcerer clan is in true possession of it, although the Armorers do implement it into the weaponry they make...

A slight mental start pulled her away from her own tangential thought, a thought arising from pure astonishment but one which then segued into another, natural conclusion.

What has taken it away, has returned it! Inside, a familiar fire began flaring once again, spreading out into every cell of her being, filling her with not so much warmth as much as homecoming.

Her eyes widened, the emotions flooding them running from surprise to delight to something akin of her former hauteur. She blinked, letting a smile spread slowly across her features, and ignoring Phalomir completely cut her eyes to the crouching imp.

"Home? I can--" she began when memory rose up and gave her a virtual slap in the face.

Home. She was about to use that which came instinctively to her, to open a Portal into the Darker Realms, that lethal and soul-agonizing dimension where she had in actuality spent the majority of her life, that place she suddenly found herself aching for with every ounce of her being, Home, where she was Queen...

Had been queen.

She truncated the statement she had been about to make, gave Phalomir a deeply scrutinizing look, and turned to her betrothed.

She paused, smiling. It wasn't pleasant. "I think that there is more going on in the Grand Spectrum of Things than you truly know or understand, and that there are many players of many different kinds involved."

And in the End the Object is to maintain the natural order of things, and for the Game to Continue?

Shayla kept this thought to herself.

"If you are truly an avatar of the Darkness, here to do its work, then why do you know nothing of these things?"

She slit her eyes.

"No," she said with a toss of her head. She stared defiantly up at the towering Dark Lord.

"You want this. So... no."

Something dark and familiar flashed throughout her being; she let her lids drop for a moment to relish the feeling. No, it wasn't the Darkness that had held her so long in its thrall. Instead, this was something else, something different, something she hadn't really felt before in her life. But something very, very enticing.

Her eyes sprang open, and a hand waved toward the crouching imp.

"They are mine, they listen to me; they will come with us..."

Then her look of defiance melted beneath one of utter astonishment as, right in front of them the image of Maladius grew wavery, shimmery, translucent...

And then disappeared entirely. A quick look around, a sudden intense listen, and she knew the others were gone as well.

Stupid of me! she raged as understanding dawned.

With the return of the powers of the Dark, the imps had simply...

Gone home.

But whether of their own accord, or simply being recalled... that she didn't know.

“Even now,” he said evenly, “Out here, in the middle of nowhere, you cannot work together with me. I am not your enemy, ShaRhylla. I know your aspirations are great and you somehow think I stand in your way, but what move have I ever initiated against you?”

Phalomir straightened himself, standing tall and firm.

“Someday you will make a great Dark Lady, but you have much learning and growing to do before that can happen. You harbor much hate, too much anger. Think what you will, but you need others. Without the experience gained from watching and learning from the Dark Lords and Lady - your mother – you are doomed to make the mistakes of those who have gone before you. That is a lesson I know all too well.”

“But there is a lesson I ask of you, ShaRhylla. It is a question that has haunted me for quite some time, and perhaps you can tell me the answer. Why do you hate me so?”

"You want to know, really?" she spat. "Fine, I will tell you.

"I don't know who you are, or where you came from, but when you first arrived in K'eel Doba, in the Temple, you came in all grand and pompous, acting like you belonged there, like you owned it! You had Mother wrapped around your little finger; I do not know why it is you have this effect on her. I just know it is there.

"When we first met, you treated me like a child, like dirt. Like it should be you who would take care of things in Mother's absence, not me. Like I never had one drop of any teachings from Mother at all! You disgraced her, in that you treated me like you did!"

Anger began to flare again, pushing forward, up through the inner shield ShaRhylla had placed within herself to control it, if only for the length of time it took to answer the False Lord's query. It refused to be harnessed; her fists balling, the tips of her pearly claws digging into the palms of her hands, she took yet another step forward. bringing herself closer to Phalomir.

"And now, all of a sudden, you are all 'nicey-nice,' play-acting to be my friend, acting like some kind of 'wise old uncle' to me, offering advice that it is not yours to offer! YOU are not Dark Lord of the Warriors, I do not remember YOU winning that role from my father, and that is the way of the Sith!

“You are correct in much of your assessment,” he said at length. “You don’t know who I am or where I came from – for the longest time I did not know either, and what I learned still does not make sense to me. But I was there, in the Temple, long before I met you. I felt the connection then, as I feel I now, but I cannot explain it. Yet I bear the marks of all three clans.

“When we first met I did not know the extent of your training, nor did it seem apparent to me you could take command. I do apologize for making assumptions, but it did not take long for me to see that you were not fit to lead. Search your own thoughts, and perhaps you will see your own behavior. Your mother leads by caring for the Sith people, sacrificing for them. You have demonstrated nothing but contempt and disdain for your people, you treat them like dogs -- so do not speak to me of disgracing your mother.”

Phalomir paused, not wanting a confrontation but needing to respond.

“And as for her,” he said. “When I first arrived I was unsure of who I was or what I was doing there. Your mother did not trust me, she did not even like me. But that changed over time, it was not overnight. Our feelings for each other are strong and I wish you could accept that. But if you do not, that does not change my feelings for her. I have gone into Hell for her, as she did for you. You are her daughter and she loves you, and because of that I try to respect you and help you. I will never intentionally come between you.

"But I will not lie to you, either. I did earn the Lordship of the Armorers. And although I have not done it, I can indeed lay claim to the Warriors."

Taking the Tooth with which she had armed herself, she made a sudden slash across her palm with it. Her eyes slitting even further, like those of an angry cat, she held that palm out to Phalomir, letting him see the blood oozing freely from it.

"Or this--?" she continued, then holding up the bloodied blade.

"You may have right to the Armorer clan, though I have never been told of you. But to the Warriors?"

She let out a burst of laughter.

"This you most certainly do not. How can you say it, when by your own words you don't even know where you come from? You have no more claim on your own merit than he does!"

She whirled and pointed to Rykounagin, then flashed back to Phalomir again.

"But he will gain that right by marriage, to me. Mine is through blood. And if you think your claim to the throne is through marrying my mother, think again."

Cocking her head to one side, she now began wiping the blade against her clothing to clean it, doing the same to her hand, settling cat-like into herself.

"Recinis still has his rightful claim to the throne too, you know," she brought up out of the blue as she slid the Tooth back into its sheath. "And he is not dead. He is merely... gone. Until his body is found and brought forth, he is Dark Lord of the Warriors, or at least is according to Mother, because she is still married to him, you know, and to hear her talk about him she loved him very much.

"But I know who the Dark Lord really is, and that is my father. He was Dark Lord before Recinis ever showed his face, and he rightfully took back the Lordship after that coward disappeared. And even though my father too is gone at the moment, he will return to his rightful place one day. I know this."

She paused a final moment.

"Mother needs to remember this, too," she said before finally finishing.

"You talk of how I treat my people. Well, at least my people know me, they know who I am and how I am Heiress Apparent to the Dark Ladyship. They know my father, they even know of the coward Recinis.

"But when they look at you... do they know you as they do the rest of us? Can they point to you, and proudly mention your lineage, and how they fared under your father and his before, whether good or bad?

"I think not, for you have no right standing alone. It is by marrying Mother that you will attempt this thing, and I will make certain that never, ever happens."

“You may save your efforts. I will not become Dark Lord of the Warriors – I cannot allow that to happen. There was a – a vision – shown to me by the Temple – it warned me of the consequences of certain choices.”

And I need to know who I am before I can expect the Sith to know. Where did I come from? Why do I have memories of a future time?

I will never renounce you... she said silently, smiling as she recognized the familiar warmth as a tendril of her powers reached instinctively out to create a Link with him. That thought, along with every lick of emotion it carried, bored into the young man's very being: into his conscious mind, into his heart, and into his soul.

Her eyes cut back to Phalomir again, slitting instinctively. But the sudden weariness she saw in his face, combined with the words she had scarcely expected to hear, made her see him in a new light, no matter how she tried to deny it or tried to interpret it as weakness. Even all her self-centered hauteur couldn't ignore the simple truth she saw laid upon his features; bit by bit the winds left her sails, pushing away her fury, settling her into the evening swells of slowly softening anger.

"So you claim now," was all she could finally manage as, her eyes dropping from his, she began to see a little bit the simple transparency of the heated words she had snapped at him earlier, and the childishness in those she had just said. For his last words had ripped away the primary reason she had to hate him, leaving behind only one reason to continue doing so: her painfully bruised ego. And that ego suddenly didn't seem quite as hurt as she thought; the budding relationship she had with Rykounagin was going a long way toward healing it.

In that moment a tiny part of the halfling struggled to grow up despite itself. And in not flaring out against Phalomir with her newly-bestowed talents, perhaps she was starting to succeed.

Even if she didn't really know it yet.

So she stood in continued silence, struggling with herself, wishing Rykounagin would speak up in support of her, whether it be one way or another. She needed his input, wondered why he had kept silent throughout this little confrontation, even felt the tiniest touch of angry annoyance with him that he had remained mute.

But maybe he was letting her handle things herself...

She sighed, looked up at Phalomir, then noticed Panthar standing off against the bulkhead.

"If you lay in a course, I can get us back to our Galaxy... I think..." she finally mumbled before taking a step away from everyone, choosing for the moment to stand completely alone.

“What do I care of such things?” he said. “An avatar I am, but I choose my battles and stay away from those that do not concern me. If there are ‘players’, and I am a pawn, then so be it. They will use me and I will be used, if that is what masquerades as fate and free will then I am content. What would you have me do? I shall rule my lot and play my part. All that of which sweet dreams are made.”

He folded his arms and leaned back against the wall, a faint smile still playing across his lips.

She shrugged. "I don't know," she responded, shaking her head and pursing her lips as though she were truly troubled. She let the look linger for a few moments before letting her greeny-blue eyes fall direcctly into dark one's.

“Love?” he asked. “Is that what you think of me, that I am so low as to ask for love? My dear, my anger at the Halfling has nothing do to with that particular emotion. She betrayed me, betrayed her home and those who offered her a place. She belongs to the Realms, and now she thinks she can merely decide that she shall have a different life. No, my dear, she has a duty – but now she has demonstrated that she is weak. And weakness is not a desirable trait.

“But I sense something within you, something that was touched by my brother’s tendrils. You have your own weakness, it is true, but it is of a different variety and can be cured by your own will. And by doing so, you will be free of the things that hold you back and will be rewarded with those things that you so richly deserve and wish for. But I promise you, unless you ask for it I shall never love you nor expect to be loved.

Shayla paused, looking at Dark Phalomir thoughtfully. "What are these goals and offers of yours...

...and at what prices do they truly come?"

So he shrugged, muttered “Sure”, and turned back into the cockpit.

He moved to tap in the coordinates for K’eel Doba, but paused and looked dubiously at the sparseness before him in the viewscreen.

"It is in you naturally, my dear," she had been told. "It runs in your veins by token of your blood, the blood which ties you to me.

"But remember, ShaRhylla, though this power lays within you, you still must learn how to properly use it."

At the time she had shrugged off Graysith's earnest words as inconsequential. Hadn't she used it already? Many times, in fact? Didn't she simply think of something, and voila! -- it happened? At her merest whim?

But then... that was in the Darker Realms. That was after she had run off quite willingly with her Dark Prince, to become his Dark Rose, and share eternal non-life with him and his minions. All she had ever used, she had used with him, for him, or for the pair of them together.

But at that time, had she truly been the one in total control of that wonderful omnipotence?

Uncertainty niggled. She lifted her chin higher, her hands fisting unconsciously at her sides.

Of course it was me! she growled to herself. Who else would touch it, could touch it?

Me.

And He chose you because--

She jerked her thoughts away from the discomforting direction in which they were heading, but something akin to logic, if not downright stubbornness, pushed them back again.

He wanted you because of the All, admit it!

Anger flared; she pushed against it, willing it to subside. This time she was successful... to a degree. For the naked hole left by that receding anger was beginning to fill more and more with something ShaRhylla was quite unused to: self-doubts.

She shook her head, blinked her eyes --

I can do this!

-- and focused once more on the grand celestial pinwheel presented by the screen. Clenching her fists even harder, she then let her eyes close, and let everything drop from her except for the simple wish that they all just go home.

Without Devil-May-Care, the fabric that has come to be known as space-time seemed to stretch, to pull and writhe upon itself, taking reality upon an extremely localized yet highly chaotic ride. A great portion of the galaxy ahead of them seemed to vanish, lost in the silhouette of the great rent which suddenly formed there, a huge and unforgiving rift that came at their ship all in a rush...

And enveloped it in a blanket of null.

About her, the very bones of the ship seemed to shriek in protest, and something seemed to strike the hull a clangorous blow. ShaRhylla's eyes jerked open.

Everything fell suddenly silent.

She peered at the viewscreen, which showed her an image of... null.

Where were they? Had she managed to open a Portal? Were they en route home, were they even moving? Ensconced within a great lack of gravity, there was absolutely no way to determine anything other than the quite obvious fact they were no longer occupying the spot in the intergalactic Void that they had mere seconds ago.

Any Tabac addict or Deathstick user could tell you that the first hit after being clean is the sweetest.

At the moment that I felt myself re immersed within the powers of magic and the force, it was as if I was temporarily pulled from my own being, feeling my consciousness and self pulled out to fill the spaces around me.

Immediately I could feel the ship as though it were alive, sense every tiny moving part, feel the hiss of the life support as it tirelessly pushed oxygen through our environment.

I could hear and feel the heartbeat of my love as though it were my own within me, my sudden awareness of her scent filling one sense even as my eyes, feeling so distant and yet with every bit of my sight locked upon her.

But all good things must come to and end. I felt that slight twinge, the pull of wrongness I so commonly felt when the All was touched around me.

Suddenly everything was speeding up and becoming clear again, every word said pouring through my ears and into consciousness and out before I could even register their meanings.

Suddenly, everything was real again.

"Yes..." I whisper, feeling reality as it was again, sense attuned back to normal. My eyes look with purpose over my love, who questions the success of her use of the All over the sound of my own quiet voice.

My eyes flick to Phalomir, who seems entirely focused upon her. Slowly one hand reaches up and my fingertips gently caress the small of her back for a moment, letting her know that I am here and with her again.

"I know..." she sent back through their newly re-formed Link, relishing in the returning warmth which flooded their connection to one another. For just the shortest of moments she let everything else go, pushed all knowledge of their questionable position aside, let her awareness of Panthar fade away, all to rejoice in the avalance of reconfirming strength now flowing into her.

Rejoiced even more deeply, for she felt herself giving of that very same thing to her betrothed.

Then she brought herself back to the reality of the situation. Casting a look up into Rykounagin's features, she raised up on tiptoe to brush his lips quickly with hers. Then she was away, beckoning Rykounagin to follow, and went to hover over Panthar's shoulder.

Her eyes cut up to the absolute black of the nothing which was plastered all over the viewscreen.

"So--?" she questioned with a wave toward the screen. "Can you find out what is happening out there? Is there an out there to go into, or are we yet traveling through the-- Portal I opened."

She couldn't help stumbling the tiniest bit over the last words, for deep down inside she had yet been unsure of how much control she had over her natural talents. But apparently something had worked, for they certainly were not where they had been moments before.

"Or perhaps there is something wrong with the outside cams--?"

“ShaRhylla,” he said, moving his gaze from the nothing to the woman – now seeming so much like a little girl – that stood in the center of the cockpit. “Are you all right?”

He stepped another pace and placed a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes reluctantly moved from the viewscreen to meet his, and he cocked his head slightly as he studied her features. She appeared to be all right, at least from outward appearances, but she was shaken.

Then a small trickle of blood appeared at the base of her nose.

Phalomir quickly ripped a piece from his already worn black shirt and placed in her hand, clasping his own gently around hers. He guided her hand to her face and touched the make-shift handkerchief to it.

“I believe,” he said evenly, “that you have saved us from the space between galaxies by bringing us to a place… no, not a place, more of a non place. Your mother brought me here once, Panther too. If this is indeed the same – well, state of non-ness – then we are in the Elseness. It is a step in the right direction, to be sure.”

He smiled a little then cocked his head, dropping his hands and looking her again in the eyes.

"I'm fine," she said as she tossed the cloth to the deck. "So what is--"

Her words were truncated by the sudden interruption of an uexpected noise. On the console, a little green light began steadily blinking, beeping insistently all the while.

The moment Phalomir had reached out to touch my beloved, I had felt a sudden desire to lunge forth and strike him.

It seemed that with the return of power for me, also came the return of my greater passions, that of love, of danger, of rage.

Barely calming my immediate desire to strike him, I watched as he attempted to tend to a minor bleed from my beloved, which she casually pushed away while addressing the light on the console.

Looking at it, it took my swirling mind a moment to place it. "We've entered something's gravity well." I explain, examining the screens.

Panthar paused and jerked his eyes to the viewscreen. He scanned it up and down and began moving the finder. He stood and stepped back as a bright mass began to show itself in the bottom right corner of the black non-ness that covered the rest of the screen.

"Panthar. Speak basic or shut up." I growl, looking out at the view port. Indeed, whatever is to be found in the Elseness in my experience has never been something particularly good.

"-That said, in the long period I spent here, I never once encountered anything of any substance that could be described as good. There was a relative concept of gravity upon which I could walk, but the only thing I ever encountered other than the portal I used to escape, was a sort of... energy."

I do my best to recollect, though the years that have passed do make the details a touch harder to recall, particularly given the vague trauma of being alone for such an extended period.

For after all, wasn't this power within her naturally? To be used as easily as breathing?

This misguided assumption, much to her chagrin, she was now finding a bit on the erroneous side. So she struggled and thought, trying to remember things her mother had said; the term "gravity well" niggled something deep down, and she wanted to know what it was all about.

A tickle of memory surfaced; raising her bi-colored eyes in genuine openness, she looked to Rykounagin.

"But... gravity wells don't come with just energy, do they? I mean, don't they mean there is an actual something out there? Like maybe another ship or something; maybe it's Preon, come into this place by-- by-- accident, or something--?"

Fates, did I drag it here along with us???

She brightened a bit.

"Maybe it's a planet we can land upon. Maybe there is food and drink and someone who can help us repair this ship..."

She paused for an uncomfortable moment.

"If my minions were aboard, there is reason to believe there are things wrong with it," she finally asserted, chin rising along with self-confidence. "I cannot guarantee to any degree another safe trip through any Portals I might open, if the ship has been damaged by them."

Nevermind it seems fine now...

She snorted the thought away as the reason she wanted to see what was out there came to her full force:

Simple, unadulterated curiosity...

...combined with the discomfiting notion that she might not be able to guide them safely from this non-place at all.

Phalomir looked at the view screen and frowned.

"H-how did you manage this feat? And why?" she finally asked, completely at a loss. It seemed impossible that anyone would have power enough to do this thing... unless it had something to do with the All.

But then, why were others involved? Her aunt Galen, and Shayla, and yes, even Panthar? How could they have been of use in accomplishing this thing?

And Phalomir...?

Her eyes slitted a moment, then cleared. "And why are you now so afraid to return to these worlds, if indeed we are approaching one of them?"

...there was still something she wanted very much. Had wanted, and for quite some time.

"You refuse to tell me the true cost of anything you offer," she finally responded. "But as to what I mean by wanting to be "free" and having things as they "once were...."

She paused, her eyes only darkening more.

"I have already hinted upon exactly what I mean. I once was given a choice...

...to remain loyal to all that Graysith taught and to follow, to become part of something special. But it meant leaving behind my past and those I thought cared for me."

She trailed a final time.

"All I wish for now is that I had chosen to follow instead of chosing to protect those who knew little of what I was being offered...

...and cared little about it."

She quieted then, her eyes remaining vague and distant...

...and out of the darkness a voice, one so longed for that she didn't even know it, rang out in the very fabric of Shayla's being. And it was so very, very real...

And full of heart-ache that matched Shayla's own.

Shayla knew it had been there all along. But she hadn't truly felt it until now.

The voice, and the connection...they were real.

Without even thinking, Shayla responded to it.

I realized of course that the literature I'd read when much younger... alright not too much younger, probably wasn't shared by those with an entirely Sith upbringing.

"The point is, perhaps we should take Panthar's fear at face value, along with whatever it is that Phalomir is telling us, and walk away from this one. Really. A need to explore is fine, and I do understand that with the return of our powers we now have many more options, but..."

I shake my head for a moment, looking out at the vague nothingness beyond the glass.

Jharmeen! My love, I hear you! Where are you? I miss you so!

He hoped he had sent his thoughts through. He knew Jharmeen had created a link with him, using the connection with all things to find him anywhere. He did not know exactly how she had accomplished this but at the moment he cared little for mechanics of it all. She was alive, and her powers must have returned. That itself should mean that she could heal herself, and she must be well.

Phalomir’s wide eyes returned to ShaRhylla. He then processed as much he could of what Rykounagin had said.

“There is a time in one’s life when coincidence becomes less believable,” he said. “Certain events unfold before you, hiding their importance yet bending you to a certain course like the flow of a river. You may paddle to one bank or the other, taking forks at your will – but in the end all streams lead to the sea. So we stand here now, in a location that defies rediscovery, wondering what course to take…”

Phalomir shook his head. The heartache from the link still lingered, and he was forced to take a pause.

Jharmeen... I will return to you. My dear, dear love...

“ShaRhylla,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse. “To be in touch with The All is a wondrous ability, one that your mother has mastered. It was through her, and with help from Galen and Shayla, that moving these planets here was accomplished. We were told to keep it hidden away from the galaxy. You could not have known of its existence here in the Elseness, in this vast nothingness, and yet here we are, right after that connection with the All was given back to the galaxy. I feel we are here for a reason.”

Even though we as yet do not know exactly what this gravity well is associated with! a niggling voice couldn't help raising. Shrugging, she forced the thought down and away and continued.

"--especially if this Elseness is as vast as Rykounagin says it is. I mean, wouldn't you think the odds are terribly small that we were drawn here, as Phalomir is pointing out?"

She cast a wide-eyed look at both her beloved and the increasingly uncomfortable looking Panthar. Seeing his apparent weakness, she drew herself upright, a scoffing frown wrinkling her brow.

"Silly!" she admonished, but whether that was intended solely for the camoflagued human or to help erase her own deeply-hidden doubts over what she was about to say, who could really tell. "If there's a problem, I can always open up another portal and take us out of here, just as easily as I brought us here to begin with."

She turned back to the hulking Phalomir, who by now had recovered from whatever it was that had sent him momentarily reeling against the bulkhead.

Shayla! Phalomir! Oh, my Sister, and my love...!

...although most of her attention was admittedly given to the latter.

I...I do not know where you are, only that you were hurt and taken away for care by K'khil to a place Phalomir claims[/b he does not know...are youi well? I was with him when I was taken by...

Shayla trailed mentally.

By a Dark Phalomir who is connected with the Realms. We are in hyperspace, but I do not know where. All I want is to return and learn from your teaching once more...

(((OCC: Cross-posted in Event Horizon in the CSWU.)))

My love, you were injured on Endor. Our powers were blocked somehow, but K’khil managed to find us – I sent you with him to find a medical facility. Bespin was the nearest -- that should be where you are. I hope you are safe. Shayla may be in peril – Shayla, can you hear me? Are we linked through Jharmeen?

I shook my head. "Alright then. Let's get down to the planet, find whatever it is we may or may not be here for, and get out. Thus all parties on board are somewhat pleased with the result."

I looked to ShaRhylla, who had that look of stern determination she wore when she'd made up her mind beyond wherever the discussion or debate may take her.

“Hmm?” he said. “Sorry about that, I was distracted a little. I thought I heard a voice in my head. Must be the strain of ruling the Darker Realms getting to me… oh, that would be rich, wouldn’t it?”

He blinked then resumed his posture.

...and for much the same reason on both counts. An image, one of Phalomir's hands raised to the sky, royal robes flowing from him and arrogance plastered on his face as Jharmeen, child in her arms, fell back.

She knew not if Jharmeen saw what she was seeing via their link or not, but she did her best to block the thoughts from both Phalomirs, trusting neither.

Then she turned her attentions to the arrogant Dark One. "If I deliver what?"

She quieted as a final dark thought haunted her. Or who ...

(((OCC: Partially cross-posted in Event Horizon in the CSWU.))

“I wish to give you that what you want most,” he said. “But you must realize what that truly is. You tell me of Graysith, of loyalty, of regrets. But what truly lies within your heart? What truly could I offer you and yet you deliver for me?”

His face then grew very serious, and his eyes narrowed to emphasize the words.

"Wait!!"

She paused, cutting off her own cry to Shayla, knowing that both were linked to her, and through her, to each other.

"Shayla... According to what my Lord Phalomir is saying, I am in one of the cloud cities on Bespin. I am not certain where you are yourself; Phalomir appears to be... Elsewhere.

"K'kihl is here somewhere; I must somehow ascertain his whereabouts, for if I should just depart from this place he would be worried, and might find trouble. Once I have made contact with him, I will send him--- to K'eel Doba.

"Take a care, my sister; I feel there is more afoot than the Dark Phalomir who plagues you. I trust you have the ability to fend him off; and be not afraid of my love.

"When I have found K'kihl and have sent him on his way, I shall go to Phalomir. If he is truly Elsewhere, he will need my assistance.

"Do not worry; we shall be together soon enough. But my dear, find out what you can of this Dark One. And-- watch yourself."

She should have known...

...and she did know. The image of Graysith, of the arrogant Phalomir...

...of the baby.

Her eyes darkened as she pinned them on his. "No," she said quietly, but not without an edge.

Then she stretched back along the link she shared with Jharmeen. I went to hyperspace within the Elseness. The Dark Phalomir. He wants an heir...

She trailed a moment. ...from me.

Returning her attention to the other in the ship, she spoke once more, beginning to consider just what she needed to do next. She had her powers back, but even with those she had limitations. "Besides, any of your plans will do you little good so long as you are trapped here."

(((OCC: Parts of this are cross-posted to Event Horizon in the CSWU.)))

He smirked a little and stared off at the corner of the ceiling.

“Although the thought is rather pleasant,” he smiled. “But still, our transaction is purely business. You see, once the heir is secured he will need a mother – until he grows. Then your obligation shall be fulfilled and you can be on your way with—well, with the things you desire most. I need you for that, and for retrieving the heir. I have faith that your powers shall again be yours, and with my help you can do wondrous things.”

His face then grew somehow darker and his gaze pierced Shayla’s.

...nor could she trust the Dark Phalomir, so manipulative and calculating, one whit. Still, self-preservation yet pushed her to find out more, as did the information smuggler within her.

She forced her eyes back into focus on him.

He wants me to retrieve an heir and mother him, Shayla thought back.

He paused, smirking at Shayla.

"Oh, I know what you're thinking. 'Oh, my Lord, I thought it was you who would rule over the Darker Realms.' Well, yes, that is true. But I will confess something to you, my dear. I am but one aspect of the true master. One small fraction of the true potential, that is what I represent. But it is a powerful fraction, mind you. Once we restore balance to the Darker Realms then we will assure the continued peaceful existence of both our worlds."

He then softened his facial features and continued.

"You still speak in riddles," Shayla responded evenly. "You speak of evil deeds and of an heir that can rightfully rule the Realms...

...yet you likewise speak of an incomplete birth and tell me nothing of where he can be found aside from nether worlds."

She paused, pursing her lips thoughtfully. "Are you referring to the Elseness?"

Quieting a final time, Shayla leveled a completely unreadable gaze upon Dark Phalomir. "If I were to do what you ask then much more information is required."

A memory was niggling of something she had been told once pulled at the corners of Shayla's mind. Seeking to bring clarity to that memory, she reached back out to Jharmeen.

He says the heir he seeks is a small child that has been placed within the Elseness that he wants me to retrieve from there...

"There must be something you are still not telling me, considering you seem so certain I have the ability to find him."

"No!! That child... it was mine, mine by Recinis, destined to become Dark Lord of the Warriors. But during my stay on Dagobah my body could not properly nourish it; I-- I lost it, and placed it within a coccoon of my love for my husband into the Elseness that it would not die.

"You must not do this, sister. You must not let this Phalomir retrieve my child. For if this were to happen, surely it would die."

...and understood. She knew she shouldn't make a bargain with the Dark Phalomir in order to save her little boy, as much as her heart longed for that to happen.

Zackary had been lost to them the day that he was born prematurely. Or at least, he should have been. Time and time again she had responded to his impending loss by trying to battle what simply was. First by allowing him to stay within the confines of a Sith incubator, and then by allowing the Sith healers to work and work on him in order to sustain his life. But what was destined to happen eventually happened. It was what it was.

A great pang of resignation and understanding began to emerge deep in Shayla's innermost being. And along with that growing realization followed another, equally as painful yet very poignant one.

She could not agree to help the Dark one to save her own child...

...nor could she not agree to help him to save Jharmeen's little one either.

Again, the natural order of things demanded to be respected.

The needs of the many should outweigh the needs of the few...

Despite what she decided to do, Shayla knew she needed to keep the Larger Picture in mind. She most certainly did not trust this one before her in any way, shape or form. Even so, she had been brought here by the will of the Force, and indeed by the will of something even Greater and Grander than that.

And there were, indeed, two sides to every coin.

Shayla knew she had to follow this out for the time being. Leaving her thoughts and feelings behind--for indeed her entire thought processes had taken no more than a moment--Shayla returned focus to the obstinately silent Dark Phalomir.

"Well?" she queried, waiting.

Meanwhile she reached back along the link she shared with Graysith.

I understand, my dear sister, she then thought to her, emotions of shared loss and understanding also flowing along the Link. Still, I am here for a reason...

...and I think I need to follow this through. Please, trust me.

Shayla let the Link go quiet as a final mental addendum seemed to raise its voice in damnation. And I hope you will be able to forgive me for anything I might be about to do...

(((OCC: Partially cross-posted in Event Horizon in the CSWU.)))

"I trust in you, Shayla. But in whatever you do, remember there is always two sides to every coin, and that there is always the Bigger Picture to consider. Sometimes the right thing to aim for means doing the wrong thing, or following the path we do not wish to travel upon.

"Keep me appraised; I will join you when I have safely delivered K'kihl to K'eel Doba.

Dark Phalomir remained obstinately silent, and with each passing moment something deep within Shayla became increasingly aware of the fact that they were lost in the galaxy, speeding through hyperspace on a course to...

...well, nowhere specifically. And, despite the fact that they were lost in unknown recesses of the universe, this Dark one was asking her to find a child, in the Elseness of all places.

"Very well, then," Shayla said then. "You would ask me to reach out and find a child in the vasteness of the Elseness, as though you know exactly where he is...

...when you also claim to not know where we are either?"

She quieted, watching the Dark one intently. "I don't believe you. After all, you appeared out of nowhere, upon our own lost ship...

...as though you knew we would be there all along."

Saying nothing further, Shayla turned back to the navigation board...

...and before Dark Phalomir could so much as blink she grasped the hyperspace lever and pulled back, and the swirl of hyperspace smoothed out into starlines, and then into stars...

...stars seemingly devoid of the pollution of space traffic. But Shayla knew deep in her heart that things were never what they seemed.

“I can watch that all day,” he said. “It never ceases to amaze me how technology makes things so… convenient. It’s amazing how we have tapped into the natural things around us, things we never knew existed until some super intelligent being figured it out. Or stumbled upon it, as is the case of hyperspace.”

He folded his hands behind his head and then turned to face Shayla.

“Or the Elseness, for that matter,” he smiled. “Funny how everything ties together. All so random, yet so… well, not random. You worlds here, the Darker Realms, the Elseness, and who really knows what else? And always there is the tiny membrane that separates it all, invisible yet persevering, keeping it all separated by an impenetrable skin.”

He paused, then pursing his lips and sitting straight once again.

“Oh, but is it really? No, actually, for we punch holes in it, portals, and move between the realms. And we leave a trail, my dear. A track. A way to trace where we’ve been. I can teach you this power, as a reward for helping me. One of the rewards…”

A dry smile crossed his lips and his eyes grew into slits.

“And the other,” he said. “Oh my, yes, the other. You must remember who I am, what my realm is… and why it exists. You witnessed a fair trade once before, given to the sister of your beloved Dark Lady. Oh yes, I know these things. Another fair trade can be arranged. Anyone you wish… old, young, or very, very young.”

“Oh by the way,” he said, “Where did these stars come from?”

And tired of her own indecisiveness, of the emotions waging within her.

So she allowed her eyes to defocus and turn vague, using a simple calming technique to seperate emotion from logic...

...and view everything in a much more calculated manner once more.

“My son is dead,” she then said, her throat constricting even as she spoke the words. Even so, she pressed on. “To bring him back in such a manner would break the Natural Order...

...and I am not so vain as to believe that my petty wishes justify bringing him back.”

She paused once more. “It is what it is. You need not use bribery to bend my wishes to your own.”

Quieting, she let that particular statement linger a few moments as she pinned the Dark one with a rather cool greeny-blue stare. A vision swam in her mind's eye once more...

...and pieces were beginning to fit together to form a potential solution.

“As for where these stars came from,” Shayla continued then, turning back to the navboard even as curiosity took hold of her and she reached for the navcomputer to see if it recognized any of the formations. As it did its work of trying to make sense of it all...

...which was taking far, far, too long...

...the icy feeling returned to Shayla's veins. The computer's work came to a damning halt as the words “NO KNOWN STARS OR SYSTEMS” flashed up on the central monitor. “I have no idea where they came from, and nither does this ship,” Shayla answered the Dark One.

Funny thing was, she had an eerie feeling she had been here before...

He then stood, his interest once again returning to his face.

“But more importantly,” he peered, “you really think I am trying to bribe you? No, no, no! I already told you, I cannot, I will not do that. I am offering a reward – your deepest desires, that which you wish. And you will be helping a helpless child, freeing it from an eternal prison which no being deserves. And you will be restoring balance to our realms, freeing us all from chaos.”

Indeed, it never once crossed her mind that there might possibly be others in this great vast nothingness they now found themselves in.

She frowned a little, pulling her claw from between her lips in puzzlement over where to drop anchor. Then--

"Why don't you decide that, love," she said as she abruptly whirled about to face her betrothed, throwing her arms giddily about his neck. The motion might appear to be oddly out of place to those watching, but the halfling found her actions to be the most natural ones in the world, so natural in fact that she didn't even waste a moment's thought on them...

She paused, shaking her head. "There is something familiar about this place. I feel like..."

She trailed momentarily. "...like I've been here before."

Quieting for few seconds more, Shayla regarded the stars shining in the viewscreen once more, trying to place them. Although she couldn't, a memory slowly surfaced, one which seemed so very long ago...

...yet remained fresh in Shayla's mind.

"Another fair exchange was made once, one which dealt with replacing one being--willing to sacrifice her life--for another who was willing to do exactly the same. This exchange was made across galaxies, leaving one at the mercies of being discovered by a Dark unknown, one incoming to her own galaxy. I was the one, and I was discovered...

...but not by the Dark unknown."

“All right,” he said. “If you would rather focus on our precarious situation than discuss the terms of our agreement, fine.”

He looked at the viewscreen and studied the stars, his eyes darkening.

“If you think you’ve been here before then you’re quite the little traveler. It’s probably best we leave here as soon as we can, though. This isn’t our place, we really don’t belong here. In fact, I’m a little worried about how we came to be here.”

A thought crossed his mind, and he looked at Shayla dubiously.

Then she quieted a moment, pursing her lips...

...and thinking.

Her eyes grew dim, almost moist, as she redirected her attentions to Dark Phalomir. "You said we could travel from place to place, through dimensions." Another shiver. "Get us out of here, now, and I will help you retrieve the child."

He then laughed at his own speculation.

“But even if I didn’t think we were stuck for that reason,” he continued, “I would need my powers back. But you, through your own abilities, have somehow blocked my ability to remove us from this realm. If only I could wave my hand like so and open a doorway to my own land…”

As his hand waved through the air, a shimmering circle appeared directly in front of the ship. The motion of the ship carried its bow into the portal as a snicker smirked its way across the dark one’s face. He flashed a twinkling eye at Shayla, then glanced at the viewscreen to see the image of the strange star patterns a final time before they would fade from view.

Why indeed were we brought here, and by what? Perhaps the answer will lie within the recorded scannings of this ship.

The image on the viewscreen faded and flashed as the ship passed through the portal. It was quickly replaced by a darkness so dense it seemed to suck the very light from within the ship. Yet the space around was a surreal pulsing, as if a desolate landscape of otherness lay just below. The dark one’s smirk became a full smile, and the brows above his eyes folded together into a sinister stare as the rainbow shimmering of the portal echoed away into nothing.

...one that she knew she had to completely ignore, placing all of her own feelings aside.

"Very well," she said, meeting his sinister glare without so much as a flinch. Then she closed her eyes, stretching out to the All, knowing that she had only successfully attempted anything close to what she was trying to do now once before, in a time of desperation when Galen had been taken by Roan. Two major differences existed between this time and the last, however: Before she had known Galen, and known her life signature, and before she had only opened a portal between two locations within real spacetime. This time, she was being asked to find a small life--if he could be called that at all--whose only link to her was the signature of Jharmeen's love, which she admittedly knew very well. And this time, she was being asked to open a portal between demensions of realtime and the Elseness. But Shayla really didn't have time or the option to dwell on these things, so she let them fade into the recesses of her mind as well.

She opened herself up as a vessel to be used, mentally aware that there are two sides to every coin...

...and accepting that.

What if in protecting her child, Jharmeen had broken the Natural Order? What if this child was needed to serve as a balance point betweent he realms of the Living and the Dead?

And then again, what if there was something more than even that?

Shayla had had her visions, and she had been brought to this time and place for one reason or another. And she fully believed that regardless of what she decided to do, her own feelings regarding her actions should have nothing to do with it.

The needs of the many should outweigh the needs of the few...

...and most certainly the feelings of a mere One.

Shayla continued to stretch outward, into the very fabric of All that Was, seeking the familiarity of Jharmeen's great passion and love outside of Jharmeen herself...

But there was something here in this vast emptiness, something that had to be investigated. There was a reason they were brought here, to this most unlikely of places, and his mind forced his heart to comply.

“The Temple,” he spoke up. “We should go to the Temple of the Armorers.”

Whether or not it was real, he felt as if all eyes were suddenly watching him.

"Of course!" she interjected in something approaching an overly loud tone of voice.

"To the Temple of the Armorers! Where else would we go upon this world, hidden in this place, but to the very heart of savagery and warfare?

"I LIKE IT!"

...so she sought beyond that. After all, Jharmeen told Shayla that she had surrounded the child with her love then placed it within the Elseness to protect it and keep it from dying. The problem was, however, that Shayla had not been taught how to breach the barrier between spacetime and the Elseness yet...

...and at the moment, she was not about to tell Dark Phalomir that. She was also fairly certain that if she told the Dark One she could not find the child, he would not believe her. He was so very, very eager to get to this child, and while the claim that he was doing this to achieve balance between the Living and the Dead was logical, there still could be something else, and with each passing moment Shayla began to formulate yet another scenario.

After all he, like many, was just another in search of Power, no matter what he claimed.

These thoughts passed through Shayla's mind in but moments, even as she continued her search in earnest. Even so, Shayla came up with no results. Finally she opened her eyes, shaking her head at the eagerly waiting Dark One.

"I can't find him," she said. "At least, not within the Elseness," she added. This of course was true enough. "Maybe you are mistaken and the child is not where you think he is," she then suggested, her eyes then moistening slightly. "Or perhaps he did not survive after all."

"He survived, I am sure of it," he said at length, "Is it that you cannot find him... or that he is not in the Elseness?"

He stroked his chin, his skin seeming to turn darker with every downward motion of his hand. Indeed, the power of the realm in which he now found himself fed his own.

Not that it was necessarily an unwelcome change, but it was a rather curious change of character.

"The temple of the armorers..." That would actually be a new one for me, now that I thought about it. I had spent a great deal of time in the Temples of the Warrior and Sorcerer clans respectively, but the armorers?

Of course, that made it Phalomir's home turf, didn't it?

The halfling brought her giddy whirling to an abrupt halt, and faced Rykoungain. However, if any had been bothering to notice her suddenly escalated behavior, they would now be seeing that the sparkle in her eye was being caused by pupils dilated too greatly, that there was the slightest bit of trembling throughout her willowy frame, that the merest droplets of sweat now beaded her brow. She tossed her head, letting her hair fall across her forehead, masking the droplets in curling flame.

"It is-- it is--" she tried to continue with anything she knew of regarding this place where Sith magicks were incorporated into devices of wonder and awe, but fell short of the task. Truth be told, she had never been there in her short life, although her father had once mentioned somewhat obliquely of it and the Armorers who lived and worked there.

All she knew was that she had to go there.

The Temple was Phalomir’s connection to this time, to this Sith civilization. It was a source of his power, and he felt at home there. If something was amiss, he would surely feel it, would he not?

Then he realized the sickness that welled from deep within. It was a slight nausea, with a distinct lump in his throat.

“The Temple is in ruins,” he said. “I will warn you of that. There is nothing to be excited about from its appearance, so do not be disappointed. It is a special place, to be sure, but the land outside the Temple is owned by wild Tuk’ata.”

And it will be good to see one in particular!

...but perhaps not just because she was considering the Dark One's words. In that split second, another myriad of thoughts presented themselves as possibilities.

She? The Daughter of Roan, the Heiress Apparent to the title of Dark Lady of the Warriors? She, bedrest?

Inconceivable!

In whirling, she shot her betrothed a scathing look, one muted a bit perhaps by the inexplicable fever now raging within her. Turning from him then, she draped herself over Panthar's shoulder.

"Oh here, let me!" she interjected smoothly as in one swift and unexpected motion she reached out around him to punch a button on the nav-board.

Momentum took hold of them all then, reminding them of the mastery of gravity, sending them all crashing willy-nilly as the ship yawed and pitched and proceeded to scream downward toward...

Whatever awaited them.

"Oh, goody!" ShaRhylla burst forth from her rather unladyline position on the deck.

"Fine," she stated softly, but darkly. "I have offered you my assistance, and you have stated how desperate the situation is...

...and yet you sit here and twiddle your thumbs, waiting."

She quieted, her greeny-blue eyes locking on his. "What are you waiting for? For me to do something, something which I have the distinct feeling you know I cannot do?"

She quieted a moment, cocking her head, and moving closer. "If you are so certain of my abilities, then why don't you teach me?"

As Shayla's last statement trailed off into silence, she moved in even closer, her greeny-blue eyes boring holes in those of the Dark One's, something in them seeming to soften...

“I feel a concern,” he said, his voice steady. “If I take you into the Elseness, there is a chance we may not return from it. I have memories of it, strange images of being there – in nothing – yet I cannot reach for this and pull it forward to share. But to take you there, to place you in that peril…”

His hand reached out, upwards towards her face. It paused, hovering in the air a mere inch from Shayla’s cheek.

The Dark One closed his eyes and shook his head quickly, visibly clearing a thought. When his gaze returned to Shayla’s it was again filled with the mix of merriment and calm that had emanated forth since his encounter with Shayla.

...and more than that, by the One who had chosen to take her as a Sister.

Two sides...

Shayla tilted her head slightly, cocking one brow, her eyes yet focused omn Dark Phalomir as though she was looking deep within his very soul.

"A glimpse?" she queried then, her tone seeming somewhat nonchalant.

The truth was she was anything but. "And if the child is of the importance you state, and has been denied the right to live...

...the risk you speak of is worth taking."

She paused then, the look in her eyes only intensifying more. "I do not fear the Elseness; I have been there before."

And I do not fear the Darkness any longer either... came a final, if somewhat shocking, addendum to those words.

“Gaze out into the realm before you,” he said. “Peer out into all that I command. I may frighten you, but fear not at the moment, for I control it all and no harm shall come to you unless I will it. At the moment, I do not, my lady.”

He inhaled deeply, breathing in a sigh. Something played at the edge of his mind, and he longed now to return to the non-soil of his realm.

“Unnnh,” he moaned, and as his boot finally gained purchase on the deck. He was then able to easily lift ShaRhylla from his chest with one arm and he rolled to his side. His eyes went slowly to the screen, then widened in shock. He sat for a second as panic worked its magic, then he yelled loudly as he tried again to ride to his feet. He stumbled, then crawled the few feet back to the controls.

He slammed his hand onto the control to re-engage the automatic orbit stabilization system. He waited for the response but the ship continued to plummet. The ship was already close enough to obscure the outline of the planet, filling the viewscreen with a green and brown blur.

Again Panthar yelled out loud, but the panic served him this time. His hands seemed to fly across the controls, hitting what he hoped was the right sequence. Even as he worked the board he suddenly found himself wishing Shayla was here. He was a good pilot, but she was better.

But his powerful hands now gripped the manual flight controls. The ship had entered the atmosphere and was still spinning. With another yell he pulled back on the stick with one hand and hit the thrusters with the other, and after what seemed like an eternity the ship finally lurched, spun, and rolled upright.

He felt a body thump against his back and he rolled to a sitting position. Rykounagin lay motionless next to him – breathing but unconscious. He glanced over to ShaRhylla, who was picking herself from the floor as well. A wild, strange look in her eye made it clear she had enjoyed the ride abundantly.

Phalomir placed his hand on Rykounagin’s chest and stretched out with his Sith magic. He felt no serious injuries, but he was no expert in the matter and hoped his limited knowledge of such things would prove correct.

“Rykounagin has been knocked out,” he called out to ShaRhylla. “I believe he will be fine but for right now you should…”

He trailed off when he realized she was not listening. She had moved to Panthar and draped herself around his shoulder, apparently hunting for something on the control panel. The door controls, he assumed. Fortunately, the control for this door was on the door itself.

“There will be t’ukata,” he said. “Most will recognize my connection to them, but there are some wild clans that have lost their touch with the Temple. Be prepared.”

Phalomir stood shakily and walked closer.

"Yess-ss-sss..." the sibilant whisper crept from her lips and into his ear. Then the ground was met, and all hell broke loose as her ears filled with the sounds of Panthar's screams, of various and assorted thuds and crashes as all aboard were flung willy-nilly, and at last by those even more terrible and lethal ones as in coming to rest the hull finally gave way with the sound of metal tearing.

Then, incongruously, all was silent.

For a moment...

She opened her eyes, blinking against the light now coming in through an opening that moments earlier hadn't been there, frowing a little in confusion to find herself far and away from Panther's side. But she didn't let her disorientatin deter her long; with a suddenness that belied what she had just gone through she was on her feet, at Panther's shoulder again, pushing brusquely past his shocked and stunned form to pat about the obviously non-responsive control panel.

Behind her, buzzing noises spoke to her of somebody speaking.

She ignored it but continued actively seeking, looking here, patting there. Then the proverbial lightbulb flashed on in her mind, and she whirled, her vision flickering briefly upon the solid form of Phalomir who was bending over that of her betrothed, only to move on to the corridor beyond where she knew lay the hatch.

More buzzing noises announced somethng about Rykounagin--?

She didn't care, it wasn't important at the moment. What was sent her rushing suddenly to the back of the control center, away from the shell-shocked Panthar and past the buzzing Phalomir, out into the corridor beyond and to the hatch she knew was there.

Final, buzzing noises in her wake finally resolved themselves into words.

"...tuk'ata..."

"Yes, I know..."

Her eyes filled with a wildfire born of something insurmountable that was singing in her blood, she wrenched the hatch open and fled into the gloom of the surrounding wilderness, letting her feet carry her a few hundred meters until she took to the trees, there moving as quiet as a mouse, instinctively seeking out yet most assuredly seeking herself to not be discovered.

Not by anybody, or any...

"Lead on..."

She trailed, but only for a moment.

“Panthar, I--”

Phalomir’s sentence was cut short as the sound of the opening hatch resounded from the back of the ship. A moment passed as Phalomir stared back into the hall, then he bit his lower lip and rose. Patting Panthar on the shoulder, he turned for the back of the ship.

“Take an inventory of the damages, old friend,” he said. “I will see what our impetuous heiress is up to.”

“I’d almost forgotten,” he said. “Strange how such a small wound can appear so serious, and yet be so simple to repair.”

He held his severed hand in his good one, then pressed it against the black oozing wrist. He closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. A strange, thick slurping sound came wafting to Shayla as the seam between the hand and wrist at first dripped a black tar, then solidified.

The Dark One opened his eyes and smiled at Shayla. He walked to the hatch controls and pressed a button, the door then slid open. A hiss announced the exchange of the interior air and the outside atmosphere, and an odor reminiscent of hazelnut made its way into the cabin.

Phalomir walked out of the ship and turned, holding his now functioning hand out to Shayla.

Days in which she had accepted the hand of another to step out into the unknown, trusting him to trust her...

...and only to in turn have her judgement and motives questioned whether he would ever admit it or not.

And now, here again, she was being presented a choice to take the hand offered or back away, in doing so or not once more trusting that yet another would in turn trust her regardless of the appearance of her actions.

But in that moment, a lightning bolt of realization finally struck Shayla.

It mattered not who trusted her or not, nor did it matter how her actions appeared to anyone. They were what they were...

...and she needed only to be able to trust herself.

Without a word, Shayla let her greeny-blue eyes meet Phalomir's as she accepted his proffered hand, allowing him to lead her out into the unknown beyond...

...both without and within her very being.

(((OCC: Follow Shayla and the Darkness into The Hands that Rock the Cradle in this same forum.))