Hundreds of aggile little fighters stormed the planets surfice, and 10 armored transports landed, despelling troops onto the green surfice...

5 or so larger bomber class ships then invaded the atmosphere, seeking to level all resistances that appeared...

he then opened a comm "Now, begin work of building a base of operations... I want it dead in the center of the main wookie city... A vast spire, which will reach up into the skies, and cast its commanding shadows upon the enslaved beasts... And inform the science team i want phase two of silvitesh experiments ready for after the tower is made..."

"mmm... Is it possible to recreate this wonderful substance? or can it only be done once? All other batches destroy themselves... Strange...very strange..."

He smiled at a sudden realization... If he could not recreate the substance, then no one else in the universe could succeed in copying his brillent creation...
He focused his quicksilver gaze upon the green planet once more, smiling in delight, seeing things which mortal eyes could never dream off...

Slowly his gaze turned to a small map upon a data pad, his finger reached slowly to press upon the planet Kashyyyk, turning it from its normal blue, to a deathly silver...

He then opened a comm... "send 1/3 our forces to Ord Mantal...Claim that planet next... And also another 1/3 shall be sent to tattooin, i want both planets under our control as soon as possible..."

WIth that he turned to a plate of food which had been set before him, and slowly began eating, using utensils made of the purest silver...

Soon tattooin would be his... Or at least... It would not be in a position to fight back...

His lips parted to realise a little chuckle, eyes dartign here and there to view the shadow's, which he was sure were holding things from him... Secrets... So many secrets...

The plateing of his armor droped suddenly in an action percieved as a shrug, his lungs expanding with the sudden intake of oxygen, which was retorted instantly with a squeezing of his chest muscles to expell the air...

his lips curled, the action symbolizing so little... happieness did not exist... Nothing did... Emotion?

The whirling cloud of mental compossur that made up alcrons concious expanded in mocking laughter of the thought... Feeling's did not exist... no no... once they had... But he now knew, that had simply been an illusion his previously simplistic mind had made to keep mortality thriving... But no longer.

The shadow's and light of the room shifted about him as his muscles contracted and expanded, rising him to a standing position... Once more his lungs expanded greatly, before in the calm light of his room, his shadow shifted and he soon found himself traversing the walkway's of his ship to find... Something...

As that which was alcron came about a small corner, he paused, the hidden quick-silver orbs which were his sight darting into the depths of a shadow, his churning conciousness coming the bare about seemingly random nonsense her and there...

He whom he had attempted contact, Held power. Tattooin was within someone elses grasp, Attention would come, the Time of revealing ones pressence is merly a wisp of shadows from all things...

The curling of his lips almost serprised him, but the shadow's revealed to him there secrets... Yes... Perhaps this could be used as an advantage... An alliance? or perhaps simply a plea of peace, something with churn about this moment...

with a slight twist of perspective his eyes went wide beneath the hidden realms of demonic shadow his hood provided...

The one known as shayla... Could she twine the threads of fate upon her fingers? could she weave knowldge where only shadow lived before?

Ah a wicked loom time is... with threads that can only be viewed by a select few... She must be stoped... How?

his cape billowed softly behind him as he avoided a segment of time that seemed most unpleasant...

there was a slight tapping noise as metal played upon the console of his ship, his gauntleted fingers twisting and expanding... Contracting and churning, moving accross to send a message through all of space, the technology of this wonderful point of existance lessoning the time it took to send such a thing, to but a fraction of a second...

And so his message read. "All bounty hunters, fortune seekers, Those down on luck... Traverse the boundries of space, find the one called Shayla Petrolu, and bring her to this location" Attached to the message was an image taken from one of the many camera's about alcrons ship, and also the location of alcrons main ship.

His lips again curled upon themselves. "And so i have added another thread to this loom. My tapestry shall be the grandest of them all..."

A rapid burst of air escaped from his lungs as they contracted and expanded in a marvelus display of laughter, and again his form traversed through space and time.

There was none...

Lo-Ban knew why, he quickly rose to his feet and found himself surrounded by rubble and debris...

His home was no more, only the 3 by 3 section where Lo-Ban sat in deep meditation was untouched...

He led himself through the dense debris, toward his personal hanger...

Destroyed as well...

He shut his eyes, his lips curled...

The rubble started to shake, but would not budge more than an inch...

From his pocket, a small metallic object emerged... with the push of a button rubble was forced in all directions, as a large bay door erupted from beneath...

With the planet near destruction, Lo-Ban climbed down into his small escape shuttle...

Quickly through the Tatooine atmosphere, he entered hyperspace...

Suddenly it opened...

The boy smiled behind him and waved happily toward the Master in a show of goodbye and was on his way, running down the path. He was happy to be back on his planet, but even happier that he was in the arms of freedom. Soon he'd be gone though, he'd have to say goodbye to those that he left behind so long ago.

Rushing into the store that he once worked at he was going to ask for a favor from the man, but before he entered he heard the sound of rumbling in their. Someone was talking to themselves, and the young boy could feel it was one of anger by the tone. Rushing in, he stared up at the tall, slender man.

The man quickly turned his head over to the young boy. The man's face was old and ruggid, filled with scars of age.

"Oh!! Is it really you...Jamel! Is it?" The man's face slowly light up as he heard the answer and the two went through the request information of the boy.

But it was not here in Mos Espa; at least not yet. As soon as Shawn landed and cooled the systems of the freighter he turned and popped the hatch, standing. About this time, however, Jamel ran past him and turned only momentarily to wave goodbye; in an instant, he was gone into the crowds of the strangely busy docking area, and Shawn did not know the boy well enough to track his Force-signature in the crowd. Still, he tried; stepping out into the bustling docking bay he reached out with the Force...

...and was nailed even more squarely with the death and destruction that loomed over the planet like a predator in the night. For a long moment Shawn couldn't even move to even try to track Jamel; with great sorrow he realized that the boy was probably lost to him and perhaps would be lost to something great and terrible that he didn't even yet know of.

Realizing this, Shawn thought of another on planet who might be suffering the same fate; greatly troubled, he reached out for Loban's Force-signature, also noting with even more despair how many less live-forces he had to sense through to find that the young man was in fact not on the planet. Thankful for at least this, Shawn continued to stretch out with the Force, seeking understanding, seeking guidance.

Who or what had hit Tatooine so suddenly and so devestatingly? For even now, the devestation was spreading...

Perhaps it was the Empire, but this made little sense; the Empire already had begun taking hold of the planet despite the rule of the Hutts. Shawn frowned as he continued to sense outward, sending a niggle of a warning to Loban should he ever plan to return to Tatooine.

Don't.

Perhaps this was Roan's doing? There was definitely something evil and ominious about this...

...but it made little tactical sense for someone such as Roan. Why would he attack a remote planet which, if annhilated, wouldn't truly impact the Galaxy as a whole?

No. Shawn didn't think this was Roan. But he had to find out just who, in fact, it was. And there was only one way he could do that. Pulling his robes more closely about himself, whether to protect himself from the suns of Tatooine or from the bone-chilling freeze of needless death, Shawn ventured outward hurriedly seeking an answer to this puzzle which had so suddenly and insidiously fallen into his lap. And, almost as an afterthought, he sent a tendril of a warning out upon a link forged with none other than blood itself...

...in the aftermath of the war.

There was rubble everywhere, people crying and sobbing and screaming, many apparently trying to get away from this place.

But the injuries...so many injuries...

...these people hadn't been ready for an attack, and they had been massacred.

Quite aware of the possibility that whatever had done this was still around, Shawn began assisting any injured he came upon, his senses keenly alert to his surroundings. As he began his work, he made sure to also find out if anyone knew what had happened here.

Troops, neither New Republic or Imperial by all appearances, had come down upon them and attacked with unrelenting ferocity.

Shawn's look remained calm as he heard much the same brief explanation from everyone he encountered, but his heart was troubled.

If not New Republic or Imperial...

..than who...?

As he yet continued caring for the wounded, Shawn began to consider just what he might be able to do about this...

...and at length he could think of only one thing, for there was only one power in the Universe with the troops to possibly respond to an attack of this magnitude...

The 'Deceased Star' made it's way down twoard the planet's surface, under the cloak of the magnetic south pole. SerKe knew something was amiss here when he had exited hyperspace. He saw many a battlecuiser in orbit, and knew he had to be careful about this. Using the stealth sheilding that blinded him from radar, He made damn sure he was out of view, using the planet itself as a visual sheild. Coming down into the atmosphere, he manualy piloted the ship to his private hanger in Mos Eisley. His business relation to the Hutts afforded him certain luxuary, a private hanger being one of them. The large, circular hanger doors closed as he landed, the landing gear coming out form the lower hull. with a light thud as he touched ground, the rear bay door of his ship opened up, and he stepped off. The door closed behind him and with a few clicks, the security measures took hold. Electric shock, motion detector blasters, to name a few.

He locked the hanger up completely and turned the lights out, making it seem as if the hanger was empty with nothing in it. locking the past door behind him with a security code, he quietly wandered into the city...wondering what exactly had transpired. Granted, Mos Eisley had seemed to be spared more so than the other towns and villages he passed on the way here, but still...what in the frell was going on. He headed to the cantina, perhaps he would find a few answers there.

"Hello Da'San..."

SerKe turned around to see Grindyu, one of many messengers of Grakko the Hutt, standing before him. SerKe grinned lightly as he motioned for Grindyu to sit.

"So, Grindyu, what is it your master wishes of me now?"

"Grakko would ask for your services once again."

"I see...and what is the payoff for doing this job, eh?" SerKe growled lightly.

"Three hundred thousand. Paid in full after the target is dead."

SerKe nodded as he thought of the money involved. After all, another 300,000 credits would be nice to have. Would go a long way for the new parts he wanted for the 'Deceased Star'...but, he still had the business with Minna. After all, finding one's heritage was top in a small list of priorities. SerKe looked to Grindyu, and his words were laced with playful overtones.

"And the name of this target?"

"Paul Arrakeen." Grindyu replied.

SerKe grinned. Perhaps, perhaps he would stay on Tatooine for a while longer and then go find Arrakeen...after all, Serke could still use a stiff drink right about now. SerKe ordered an Alderian Ale and then sent Grindyu on his way. SerKe wondered what Grakko was up to this time. Dealing with spice, he had no doubts. But, why did he want this man killed. These questions would be answered a bit later. For now...a drink would do...

SerKe had just finished his drink when a tiny blue light flassed thrice in succession on his forearm apparatus. SerKe grinned widely as he left a few coins on the table and got up, making his way out of the bar. SerKe walked down the streets and alleyways of Mos Eisley, toward his private hanger.

He tapped the code into the door entry pad, and the door slid open slowly, sliding closed as he walked through. Locking the door mechanisms behind him, he boarded his ship, and walked into the cockpit. Sitting, he opened up the mssage sent to him...

Minna...

He read her transmission, and grimaced. Not what he was looking for. But useful, perhaps. He sent her a message in reply.

"Minna...these aren't the coordinates I asked for. But, two are better than one, they say. For this, I will pay you half of the rest of the amount owed. But I tell you this...if you are leading me into a trap of any kind..I will take the price it cost me back from you...

SerKe's image then grinned widely, and that lionine growl eminated form his lips, his eyes looking like the pits of hell as he did.

...in blood.

SerKe then sent the transmission and took the coordinates from her message and uploaded them into his nava-computer, updating his maps.

He couldnt help the joy cascading through his mental complex, filling him with the essence that he desired... it was always hard for him, to allow others the task of duing his deeds...

But this... This was something he would do himself... This was something that could only work if he himself acted as the bringer of death...

he walked through the streets, laughing from beneath his hood as people instinctivly shy'ed away from him, obviously unsure as to why this one possessed such a dark aura...

Passing along the streams of time he sat down within a small catina, none knew that it was he who had caused the destruction that had recently come to pass..

I must find this Grakko... He holds a tight rule beneath the folds of this planet... Crime has a way of creating power apparantly... I can not allow another to touch what i seek... No no no... I am the one who will rule...

Quietly he took forth a small communication device, and spoke with those aboard his large warbringer ship, which was still safely tucked away in the uncharted sector of space...

"I require a spy... contact one, and seek the location of Grakko the hut... Give whoever you find my frequency..."

Minna brought Forbiddance into a landing in her customary spot when visiting this world, in the outskirts of that den of filth and inequity which passed for a city: Mos Eisely. Granted, she'd had a touch of trouble in-coming; there seemed to be an inordinate amount of ships flying about in orbit, the majority of them now being Imperial destroyers and SSDs. However, using the codes given to her earlier by Lt. Gen Tarnus, she had been able to slip into their midst, and was allowed to descend and land.

She shook her head to herself, now powering down her systems, and muttering for the fact that she'd had to come back here at all. If it hadn't been for the fact that she didn't get all of Forbiddance's upgrades she wanted finalized, she wouldn't now be needing to come here to where she had hidden her secret little stash of funds, that she could then leave and go to Kuat or somewhere possibly not under Imperial blockade and see to her ship.

And then--

She sighed with the sudden realization that she was back to Square One.

Well... not entirely, she muttered to herself, now bringing up the connection to her account and noting the additional funds which had been deposited therein. She frowned again.

There it sits: more money than I've seen in a lifetime of spying... and what good does it do me? If I dare to take it, He will know where I am.

And I want to remain as invisible to Him as I possibly can!

She snapped the connection off altogether with a little grunt, then departed from her ship and set off amidst the crowds which beat the dreary sand-streets with myriad exotic feet. Soon she came to the place where her little nest-egg was hidden; after checking to make certain it was all there, she placed the funds upon her person, and turned away.

She was heading back to where she had landed when a thought struck her, a thought promoted by this infernal planet's infernally dry and gritty air and equally infernal twin suns.

Might as well stop off for a drink before I go, she mused, heading off and soon entering into her favorite cantina in Mos Eisley:

The Blue Asteroid.

SerKe made his way in quietly, and sensed a pressence he had felt before. He didn;t quite know how he did it, but he didn't bother to ask. Sliding up into the shadows, he let his gaze wander. A few toydarians, a man drapped in a hooded cloak with a particulay dark arua around him, and lo and behold, Minna Manth!
It's like the holidays in July... SerKe thought to himself.

He slid around and decided that if Minna was going to be so frightened of him, he mine as well tighten the grip of fear she had for him. After all, a decent spy was always a good thing to have in one's back pocket. He slid up to her, as quiet as death itself, as he leaned and whispered into her ear quietly.

"Remember...in blood..."

SerKe then slid downward and away from her table, letting her wonder what had just transpired. He made his way to the bar, and purchased another Alderian ale, and slide off to a table. That hooded man seemed to be of some interest. He felt almost, as if he were true evil. As if he had commited some horrid, terrible deed. Again, SerKe couldn't explain how he came to such conclusions, but none the less, he did. SerKe liked that in a person. So, being the brash, yet wickedly twisted man he was, he took a seat at the table across from the hooded man, a grin slithering across his lionine features.

"So...what brings such a mysterious person as yourself to our little corner of hell?"

Whirling about, she was just in time to see him fade -- or at least she thought she saw him fade -- into the smoke-laden shadows of this establishment, his words now equally giving way before the onslaught of the ever-present jizz-wailer who warbled in a terribly off-keyed voice from another corner.

She shivered, wondering if what she saw was real, debating whether or not she should just up and go... then frowned to herself.

Minna, you're one of the best spies out there, and you know it! she reminded herself, now settling back and forcing her hand to remain calm as she reached out to her drink to take a sip.

If you keep on obsessing about that Sith Lord...

Well.

You'll certainly never be that same spy again, will you? And where will that lead?

Nodding her momentary flush of fear from her, she managed to quiet her heart, and remained where she was, sipping her drink as she pondered where she should go from here.

"What brings someone such as I? it is simple, there is someone on this planet which does not belong, i am here to right that wrong..."

The shuttle disembarked from the Star Destroyer's hangar, flying to the planet Tattooine. The passenger it carries, the Jedi Paul Arrakeen, sat within his Force cage, only given a small window to look out the cockpit window.

Paul hated this cell, as it kept him from meditating. The trip to the system had been agonizing to his senses, as the only thing he was able to hear was the low rumbling of a ship's engines. The sight of Tattooine didn't make him feel any beter.

I'm about to infiltrate a gang of notoriously vicious Hutts whilst under the gunpoint of the Empire. Smart move, Paul. It couldn't possibly get any worse than this.

The light within the cell turned off suddenly, placing the Jedi in darkness. Paul heard several clicks emitting from around the cell.

"Command center has powered down the Force cage. You're approaching Tattooine's atmosphere." crackled the ship's intercomm. "We have programmed the shuttle to land on the outskirts of Mos Eisley. Good luck."

The door slid open and the Jedi moved out to the cockpit. He approached the command console and studied it for a few moments.

Hope this will be easier than the X-Wing.

There was a small monitor showing about four triangular symbols moving off screen.

"The fleet must be moving out." he spoke to himself. "Well, I hope they don't get too far off or--"

A distant explosion, almost muffled by the shuttle's engine interrupted him. The ship shook from the shockwave of it, but Paul held on to the pilot's chair.

He looked at the radar screen again, and saw one of the triangles began blinking red, then it disappeared.

Their fleet is under attack?!

Paul's hand instantly moved to toggle the switch to activate the hyperspace engines, but stopped as he touched it. He shook his head.

I'll be a dead man anyway if I go back. No point in being wanted by half the galaxy's bounty hunters.

He switched off the radar, and accelerated the shuttle's engines. The shuttle soon entered the atmosphere, and the onscreen computer displayed a series of numbers counting down until contact with the surface.

Minutes passed, and he broke through the atmosphere. Paul saw that night was beginning to fall on Tattooine.

"Touching down in 30 seconds." he said as he began to slow down the shuttle's descent. The shuttle began to slow down, and then started hovering until it finally touched the ground.

Have I wandered into the middle of a war?

The loading ramp lowered, and the Jedi strolled down it. Paul thought he heard thunder, and realized that they were more explosions.

On the surface? he thought.

Rather than stick around to find out, the Jedi ran from the shuttle towards the direction of Mos Eisley...

"Well...All I know of the Hutt named Grakko is that he lives on the outskirts of town. Very prominent here in Mos Eisley. I'm not sure exactly, but I do know that a few of his messengers happen to frequent this little cantina."

SerKe finished his drink quietly, and then nodded to the hooded man, a smile upon his face.

"Sorry I couldn't be of more help to you, my friend."

SerKe stood and left a few coins on the bar, heading out. He looked up and saw that night was upon them. There was too much going on here. Imperial fleets, Grakko looking for a man named Arrakeen. Minna finding her way here. It all smelled rotton. And he had things to do.

Sliding sround the shadowy corners, staying hidden in the darkness, he made his way to that private hanger a 2nd time. But, the last time. He tapped the keypad, and slid through the doorway. closing and locking the door behind him, he walked through the darkness into his ship. He started the ship up, and thankfully, due to all the explosions outside of town, his ship wasn;t as noisey as it could be. The large, circular hanger door opened, and SerKe manuvered the ship out of the hanger, into the night sky of tatooine.

Checking radar for the position of the imperial fleet, he noticed laserfire. And they were all concentrated above him. He manualy flew the 'Deceased Star' to the magnetic south pole again, and using it as a sheild to radar, and the planet to hide him from view, he took off into space.

When he was safe enough from Tatooine and all the insanity there, he punched in the coordinates for a world that might hold some answers. and hopefully, he would find them. SerKe was off to K'har Delba.

((OOC: Please follow SerKe to To Wake the Dead in the Jedi Praxeum & Sith Temple forums, thank you.))

But, he was no pilot...

...so he’d need some help.

Sighing at that, Shawn realized what ship he was stuck in yet again. Tatooine frequently had visitors who were very good pilots, and they could usually be found in one particular place fairly easily.

A cantina in a spaceport.

Turning on his heel, Shawn began to head towards the nearest spaceport he knew of in this area of Tatooine.

With such ease this emotion comes forth from the human mind...

An emotion kept at bay for much of his life, but he could resist no longer...

She mocks his love with another, and he falls back... They take his home, and he falls back... this far, no farther... and hate will make them pay for what they have done...

Lo-Ban extended his right forearm, the muscles as tight as an elven bow, and placed a return course... back to Tatooine...

With his home destroyed, he headed to the nearest settlement, a place that beckoned him...

Mos Eisley...

This far, no farther...

His head hang low, as his saber ignited...

The first one was easy, the second just the same...

Soon he was slicing through them as if he were a Japanese short-order cook...

Before he could realize his actions, his saber fell silent, as the last of the victims lay at his feet...

Victims of all races, innocent alike...

He did not care, they would do... anything to ease his pain, they would do for now...

He dropped to his knees, and began to sob...

...hate...?

Shawn didn't shudder, but for some reason Tatooine, a usually harsh and humid world, suddenly seemed deathly cold. He swallowed inperceptibly, still managing to keep that aura of utter calm he was noted for as he stretched out in the Force...

...whereupon, after some length of time, he struck upon a very familiar and very angered Force-signature.

Shawn rose, his demeanor yet utterly calm, and considered for one moment more. Then he headed in the direction which that hate and anger flowed. He didn't even know he was running. Dishearteningly enough, every step he took only brought yet more chill in the air...

...death...

Time passed slowly as he continued his journey towards something no Jedi Master ever wanted to face. But at last he made it to the cantina where there was no life, excepting one.

One very familiar, very despairing, and very angry life.

Any wise Master knows that there is a time to teach, and there is a time to simply show compassion. Shawn was conflicted with the number of dead bodies lying about at this understanding...

...but Loban had fallen to this sort of anger more than once before, albeit in not such a grand spectrum, and in those cases he had been under some deadly and unforseen influence. Shawn had to know precisely what had happened.

Slowly and calmly, Shawn stepped into the cantina amidst a pile of dead bodies of all races, til at length he stood not far from the crumpled and sobbing form of his former apprentice. Aside from those sobs, not a sound could be heard.

There was only one thing Shawn could think of to do at that moment, for he could clearly sense the conflicting emotions raging from Loban's psyche as well as a very defined sense of loss. His greeny-blue eyes rating forgiveness rather than sterness, he reached out a hand and laid it upon the sobbing young man's shoulder. "Come with me," he said softly, "And we will fight this together."

Then he fell silent, not moving the slightest, his senses keenly attuned to Loban and all that surrounded them as he waited to see just how the young man might respond.

Alcron had found his way to this place, in the destraction that a young rampaging jedi had caused, it had been easy enough to locate the fleeing henchman...

Now he turned about within the hideout, "you work for me, or you die..."

Slowly a hand reached from his cape, tossing it at the feet of one of the higher up lackies... "this is a new form of spice, replicate it, and sell it... it will sell much faster you will find... Keep the credits gained, but spread it... All will fall befor its side affects..."

He smiled darkly and exited, with this task done it was time for a more diplomatic side...

he had heard of a Mr. Sorben Tarnus, rising above the simple level of bounty hunter... Alcron needed to weave his webs about all he could, and an alliance would be helpful, and bounty hunters, no matter how powerful in status, were not exactly the most well suited business men...

With his ship docked inside the larger Warbringer hidden within space, alcron sent out a message to sorbens commlink, a commlink Alcron hoped was still active, remnants of his bounty hunter day's...

"Mr. Tarnus, I must meet with you... That is, if you want to put an end to pointless deaths..."

(En route to Coruscant from Kamino....)

I just about fell out of my navigation seat as a commlink not used in over a year suddenly burst into life. A voice I had never heard before came wafting tinnily from it, blithely informing me that someone must meet with me....

???

I was reaching to that selfsame link on my gauntlet, ready to send back a sharp retort when two things simultaneously struck me. One, I had never in my life heard this voice before, and as top-gun bounty hunter I always made a point of memorizing every physical characteristic I could about a person, from general attributes to the smallest of unconscious nuances used in body language; and two:

Who in the name of all the universe could send transmissions while we're in hyperspace? And have it get through...?

That little item gave me reason to pause... but another gave me more of one. I turned my helmeted head to where Darra lay kicking and cooing in the seat I had gently strapped her in, finding simple delight in all the pretty colors which danced on the navboard in front of her tiny nose.

That decided it for me. Whoever this guy was, he could wait. After having regained my daughter from the very dead, I wasn't about to do a thing to risk sending her back into that particular night.

Sitting back, I just eyeballed the communications panel on my glove, listening to that message come to a terminus before pausing, then repeating. I must have listened to at least half a dozen repetitions before I reached over with my other hand and snapped it off altogether.

Whoever it was had managed to reach me over my old bounty hunter link. That was an occupation I was no longer interested in. And if it was for something else... well, this unknown person or persons ought to know who I now was, and where I could now be reached.

I now reached a gloved finger out and gently tweaked Darra's little nose. Then I settled back with a creak of armor, and let Ransacker continue to yowl its way back to Coruscant.

((OOC: Follow me to my arrival on Coruscant in Return To Tomorrow in the "Empire/New Republic" forums, thank you.))

I am a worrt, a little bitty worrt, she told herself fiercely. I am a worrt waiting for this creeper to come close... just a bit closer, and I'll have dinner, so don't move whatever the hell you do for the sake of all that is don't move....

At length the cries and crashes and hideous humming blasts of lightsaber energies and groans and gurgles of the fallen and the even more terrible thuds of bodies dropping like the dead meat they had become all came to a close, and the silence of death descended upon the shattered remnants of the cantina. A momentary pause... and that silence was broken by yet another terrible sound.

The sound of someone sobbing.

Minna froze into an even tinier replica of a worrt. That sobbing didn't sound quite... sane. She was sure of it when it was broken by small noises indicating the arrival of another person, booted feet coming to an obviously shocked halt, then continuing forward, stopping again, then a voice reaching out in calm sympathy.

Sympathy to a rampaging murderer? Mother Macree, get me out of here and back to Forbiddance...!

Minna hunkered even more closely to the ground, trying to grind herself into it while making not so much as a wisp of noise to draw attention to herself hidden there amidst the debris.

I swear, no more blue stuff for me if I manage to creep out of here alive...

Then, slowly, Lo-Ban brought his head back up... as if he had realized something...

He now stood, slowly placing distance between himself and Shawn...

Still, as quiet as the moment before, Lo-Ban simply stood with his back facing Shawn...

Dark, calm quiet filled the room...

...serene calm, the Force, Loban, and himself...

...and the brief knowledge that someone here was yet alive.

Even as Loban turned, his lightsaber in hand and activated, Shawn didn’t even flinch. He wasn’t stupid however. He drew his own lightsaber, only holding the hilt in his hand, ready to activate it only if necessary. At length he spoke words.

“You once told me that you wanted to use your abilities to help the peoples of the galaxy,” he said calmly to Loban. “Your hate, my friend, will do nothing but destroy them all...

...but only after it destroys you first.”

He paused at that, letting the silence of the cantina speak in mute emphasis to the words he had just spoken.

Then, finally, “Put the lightsaber away, Loban. I feel the good in you, I know there is good in you, or else there would be no conflict within you now...”

Shawn trailed, something within him identifying with something deep inside Loban. “You are not the only one to have lost your family...

“...I lost mine too...as many others have here today, and many others have all over the galaxy. Help those people in the galaxy, Loban Kenobi, fight this evil with the light that will squelch the darkness, with the light that is within you...”

Put your weapon away.

No one would have the sheer hutzpah to stand up to the activated blade of a jedi but another jedi -- or dark jedi, she reasoned. Therefore, the second person was one of the first person's ilk.

Now she drew in a slow and utterly noiseless breath, and her hand crept in equal silence to her blaster. A thumb flicked the non-metallic piece which held it hostage in her holster, her hand wrapped about the comfort of its grip. Being the spy that she was, Minna knew how to be a ghost when necessary; she kept her holster carefully oiled, which not only served to constantly lubricate the working parts of the weapon but provided for a frictionless -- and thus silent -- drawing of it.

It didn't make so much as a breath of a sigh as she pulled it out and held it to her chest, her finger on the trigger as she waited to see just where events would now proceed.

"...but then again, you're always right, aren't you... you have no idea how clear things are... my powers are far beyond yours... you're jealous... but, my problem is not with you..."

With that, his lightsaber was gone... tucked back within his attire... with the same motion his left hand force pushed the eavesdropper toward Shawn...

His padawan was turning to the darkside...

...he felt for all the Universe like a Ben Kenobi, just trying to do his best in a time when Jedi were all but appreciated...

...only to fail.

Shawn jerked from this thought as the poor Bothan who had been hiding gripped her blaster and aimed it right for him; only then did he realize he was still holding his lightsaber hilt. Slowly, carefully, he put it back on his belt, then rose his hands in a semblence of surrender. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said calmly, almost as if nothing had just happened.

Then something dawned on Shawn. My problem is not with you...

Memories surfaced: Loban’s sudden departure from the Stargazer...

Shawn suddenly knew that he had a choice to make. Go after Loban, and try to stop him from going the route he now suspected, a route that might involve his sister...

...or continue with his original plan to notify the Empire of the strange goings-on here on Tatooine. He truthfully hated having to make the choice. He pursed his lips thoughtfully even as the Bothan continued to eye him suspiciously, her blaster yet aimed in his direction.

Shayla could take care of herself, and Erik was with her. And, hopefully, she had found Graysith as well...

The decision was made.

He looked to the Bothan, his demeanor still remaining utterly calm. And that’s when he recognized her from his brief tenure aboard Sorben Tarnus’s star destroyer. Maybe...

Damn Jedi! she spat to herself, amidst other more randy curses. How could I ever forget that you can't hide from a jedi? I could be a stone statue... but as long as my heart beat, I could still be found through their weird force. In fact, if my heart quit beating I still would have been spotted; they'd just find the lack of me in that Force-ness whatever it is they use....

She barely had the time to realize that the only occupants of the cantina were herself and the owner of the second pair of boots whose footfalls she had heard. In fact, she really hadn't been certain that he was in fact that particular owner at all. There was an endless second or two of wheeling images coming into her eyes: cartwheeling tables topsy-turvy chairs and a flash of something dark, a robe and boots maybe, and another quick view of a shadow fleeing....

Then she was balanced on her feet and crouching, her blaster aimed right at the face of the owner of that second voice. Who verified any last niggling doubts she might have as to his authenticity by finally speaking to her in his calm and soothing manner, his one hand quietly belting his weapon.

Minna's eyes widened as she recognized him. Slowly she rose from her crouching position, her eyes never leaving his, her blaster lowering now to aim at his knees but not anywhere in hell coming close to being holstered. Another little ripple of unease ran through her.

This was the Jedi who was taken on Tatooine to begin with. Now he wants to go speak with the Empire. Had the universe changed that much as of late, that the sheep was asking to lay down with the lion? Since when do Jedi rub elbows with the Empire?

Was this one, as improbable as it might sound, working for Tarnus?

As before, all this flashed through Minna's thoughts in the space of a nanosecond. She stared at Shawn with a touch less ice and a touch more speculation. If he and Lt. General Tarnus were connected, then maybe she could end up with that weapons upgrade the latter had once promised to her after all....

She sniffed, lowering her blaster to Shawn's ankles. The tip of it wavered toward the broken entrance into the cantina, taking in the bodies in line with it in one fell swoop.

"Who was that guy?" she finally asked in her quiet raspy whisper, not deigning to reply to his request for transportation at the moment. She was, after all, a spy. And a good spy gathers information when she can, as much as she can, whenever the opportunity arose.

He paused for a moment at that, actually letting a flash of sadness escape his otherwise calm visage. Then, "Now...I'm not quite sure who he is anymore."

I'm about to find out...

He recognized one of the voices...

Slowly, she shook her head.

"If that killer was your padawan then sorry, but I don't want to be this close to you any longer, friend," she muttered raspily. Her free hand now snaked out, waving in a low swooping arc to take in the destruction amidst which they stood, the multiple bodies. Her nose wrinkled; the stench of charred flesh yet hung upon the air.

"If you want a message sent to the-- the Empire about this, then tell me now and give me the frequency you need it sent on; I'll make certain it gets to-- to whoever it is you want to contact."

She blinked her dark and expressive eyes and shifted her stance then, settling her center of gravity a touch lower to the ground as she waited to see what kind of response her reply would provoke. Her finger tightened a touch further, creeping around to join in a deadly embrace with the hair-trigger on her blaster, which even as she spoke she raised once again level with her chest, bore up but ready in an instant to extend and shoot anything that moved.

She was about to say something else when a slight movement caught her eye. There, silhouetted in the shattered remnants of the door leading in to the cantina, stood a somewhat shocked looking Gotal, twin head-cones wavering as the rather strong emotions emanating from the two of them rammed into her like a supernova. The being opened her mouth, worked it in silence, then whirled and fled into the streets of Mos Eisely.

Minna pulled her gaze back into Shawn's.

"But for now," she said in lieu of whatever else she had in mind, "it is time to go. I believe that this place is soon to become a somewhat unhealthy one to remain in any longer."

Nodding, she tucked her blaster more tightly against her chest, then moved quickly and fluidly past Shawn, heading for the door just vacated by the Gotal. If he wanted her to send the transmission, he'd follow. If not, she didn't care.

All she knew was that Imperial forces more than likely would be here in but moments, and she didn't want to be anywhere in the vicinity when they arrived.

Someone was close by, watching, but Shawn couldn't make out whom even with his senses completely open. This fact alone was disturbing. It meant someone was here but hiding, and only a Force-user could do that.

Had Loban come back...? Maybe there was still a chance, then...

...or maybe he had suddenly realized he missed someone and had come back to finish the job...

Either way, Minna needed to get to safety, and Shawn was at least going to see to it that she did. Still, he suddenly felt a grave need to deal with this unknown, whether it was his padawan or not. When they were finally some lenght away from the cantina, Shawn reached out a hand and laid it on the shoulder of the unsuspecting Bothan. “Let Lt. General Tarnus know that troops of an unknown origin have attacked Tatooine with numerous casualties.”

He paused at that. “I have to go back to that cantina; someone was back there... watching...”

At that he fell silent then, waiting to see if the Bothan would respond any further before he returned to the cantina to confront this disturbing unknown.

A padawan turned to the Dark Side...an unknown faction attacking the Empire...and the Jedi Master Petrolu returning to Tattoine. he thought. Either Tarnus is trying to get me killed, or he has no idea whats going on with his fleet over this dustball.

Then the Jedi heard Shawn telling the Bothan he was returning to the cantina...he began to wonder if he should reveal himself or not.

Paul's mission was to find Grakko, retrieve the data from the interpreter droid, and bring it back to the Imperials. They didn't bother to give him a time limit as to how long he has to do this, so the Jedi could use some help...

On the other hand, Master Petrolu might try and stop Paul from (reluctantly) aiding the Empire. Being unarmed as it is, that might not be a smart move.

Paul frowned, figuring that he would be discovered eventually, and stepped over from the wall so he can be seen through the blasted hole.

And there was only one person Shawn was so close to in the entire Universe, only one...

...and he had just let his former padawan go after her in belief that she could withstand any attempt at attack Loban might make with her friends and allies.

But had he been wrong?

By all outward traces, Shawn was as calm as a sleeping space slug. But inside he was worried, beyond worried....

Had he placed the good of everyone else above his sister yet again, only for harm to come to her yet again?

He had to get to her. He had to know. The Empire had enough information via Paul Arrakeen to know that there was trouble on Tatooine....

Shawn frowned at that, a question mark suddenly forming in his mind in place of the momentary fog caused by the sudden slam of evil. Shawn turned to regard Paul, crossing his arms, his look once more totally Jedi-like. “How did you get here Arrakeen, considering the last I knew you were imprisoned on Coruscant?”

Sormontato glided out of hyperspace with the ominous grace of a hunting dianoga, and nearly as invisible. In her wake she trailed her entire battalion of support SSDs, star destroyers, transports and carriers...

...and accumulative troops numbering in the hundreds of thousands.

General Ahem sat completely at ease in his ready room, watching the approach of the rust-colored dustball which went by the name of Tatooine, noticing the myriad ships flittering hither and yon in orbit about it, knowing each represented carriers of another type who had been deploying unknown forces of their own to the surface.

"Oh my," he murmured to himself, shaking his head to think how far things had progressed in this manner. It wasn't that he had anything in particular against Lt. General Tarnus's command policies... it was just that they differed rather drastically from those of Admiral Actar. While Tarnus had deployed a small garrison to see what the hell was happening out here in the sticks -- said garrison having disappeared into the unknown, it might be added -- Ahem knew that deployment was to test the waters.

But such testing was at the price of lives and materiel, he couldn't help frowning. Admiral Actar would have sent me from the get-go, and be done with it....

He sighed, returning his attention to the screen.

So be it. The two admirals had been incommunicado for quite some time, for reasons of their own, leaving a clearly wet-eared and newly appointed Lt. General in command of things. Perhaps when this little fiasco was over he, Ahem, could return to Coruscant and offer his battle-seasoned experience to Tarnus....

Now he nodded, flicking open an intra-ship comm.

"Operation Cleanse, if you will Colonel," he ordered the Officer of the Watch. Then he sat back, watching in satisfaction as that order was carried out... and each and every ship in orbit around Tatooine flowered one by one in fiery destruction. Soon the only motes flitting about were his own follow-up fighters and troop carriers, who then arrowed down into the Tatooine atmosphere, there to seek and destroy whatever didn't belong on the surface.

General Ahem nodded, and rose from his seat. Time for a nice cup of hot tea....

The Jedi smiled, and made a small laugh to himself. "As if it couldn't get any harder...turns out that not only do I have to deal with gangsters, but also whoever is battling out with the Imperials here."

He looked at Petrolu, and raised an eyebrow. "Unless you, too, intend to make matters worse..."

But it was then that, out of the corner of his eye, Shawn saw a few small sparkles in the sky. A moment or two after that, some rather Imperial looking ships made atmosphere, apparently headed for Mos Eisley.

Shawn looked back to Paul. "Looks like the mysterious attackers on Tatooine might have finally met their match," he said thoughtfully, that look of his ever-calm regardless of any of his concerns for Shayla or the peoples of Tatooine. "That's one thing less to worry about, possibly."

Talk of things to be worried about caused Shawn to recall his current mission and other concerns that he had. "I was here looking for my former padawan..."

For the first time, Shawn hesitated the slightest. Then, "I guess you could say I found him...

...or at least, I found the shell of what used to be him. He's gone now..."

Shawn didn't wish to linger on the subject of his ex-padawan any longer, so he abruptly changed the topic of discussion.

"What's this about Hutt corruption, exactly? Weren't you working for the Hutts before?" Shawn quizzed, cocking his head, his arms crossed against his chest.

"Months ago an Imperial agent dumped me on Tattooine, weaponless and without money. I had to do what I can to get off planet and help other Jedi recover from the Empire's assault."

"Grakko the Hutt offered me a deal; I become his errand boy, and he'll pay me til I can afford a transport. Unsurprisingly, he payed me very little for each...job...until I discovered he lost a spice shipment to the Imperials. I offered to retrieve it for him in exchange for a greater sum of money. He accepted the deal and..."

The Jedi sighed and bowed his head, almost shamefully. "..betrayed me, along with you and the others, to the Empire. General Tarnus, whom I sense you've met before," Paul lifted his head and tilted it to the side before he continued, "made me an offer I couldn't refuse: I bring evidence that the Hutts were openly working against Imperial law, and he won't send me out the airlock. So here I am."

...I would in return ask your assistance in a matter concerning my former padawan. I fear he has turned to the darkside, and alone I do not have enough resources to try to turn him back or prevent any damage he might cause in his turn."

Shawn paused then, thoughtful once more. He ended with this: "We've been Jedi without unity for too long, Paul. Change is in order, for if we remain divided...

Abruptly, he turned his head sharply away, shutting his eyes as he did so.

I can help...my ability with the Force may be crippled, and I have no weapon...but I HAVE to help. Leave the past behind, Paul, and focus on the future... his thoughts reminded him of those words constantly, in the hope that somehow he would pay heed to them.

It worked.

"Alright." he said. He opened his eyes and looked back to Shawn. "I'll help you with your padawan...right after we take care of my mission with the Hutts."
Maybe...maybe I can seek redemption with the Council this way...

Paul uncrossed his arms, hiding his shaking right hand behind his back.

"It's been awhile since someone referred to me as a Jedi without putting a blaster to my head..."

And here he and Paul were spouting about a padawan turned Dark and a Hutt smuggling spice...

He turned his calm greeny-blue eyes to the Bothan. "Is there something we can do to allay your fears? You are free to go as you please, Ms. Manth..."

Free to go?

With effort she kept from snorting aloud at the sheer beneficence of that statement.

As if she couldn't disappear like smoke on the wind, and right in front of their eyes, at any time she chose to do so... well, at least physically....

Which brought her thoughts round-robin to reality. Both men were regarding her now, their demeanors much more calm than before, although the one guy was emitting wave after wave of something approximating despair on a level of a solar wind blasted out from a giant star. Her head cocked the merest fraction to one side, and at long last she allowed herself to blink.

Yeah, she was free to go... but where? And do what? Maybe it would behoove her on down the road to stick to these two after all at least for a little while; never know where that road might lead and what information might lay along it. Surely the two jedi would be more than a match for that ex-padawan... and information was a good thing.

Slowly, smoothly, with even a hint of suaveness only a top spy can put into the motion, she stood fully up and holstered her blaster. Loose and ready to move in any direction, she turned her head from one to the other, carefully scrutinizing them both. And finally she spoke, her voice a whisper of a spring breeze.

"It was never fear," she said, and fell silent, ready for anything which might then unfold. She followed that statement with one more meaningful, one much more succinct, and one accompanied by a nod of her head to the door.

"Imperial forces-?"

Still very much in shock from Grakko's sudden and unexpected assasination as well as very alarmed and mystified by the silver stuff which the stranger had left with them, the smugglers whom had been conspiring with the Hutt before his murder withdrew to themselves, meanwhile allowing the band and dancers to return to the entertainment floor, hoping to convince the costumers that everything was in control and that nothing had ever happened.

In the the midst of the dance floor, Kia’ra Roch’ella danced lithely about the club patrons, waving about her transparent shawl of gold as she spun gracefully throughout the room, occasionally reeling in male-patrons with her stunning indigo eyes and her golden shawl, wrapping it seductively about them as she danced. This usually resulted in the reward of a credit or two; really, those credits were all that Kia’ra was interested in, and all that she had been taught to love. For that was all she was, a mere dancer in a palace, a mere slave without any other way to survive on this mostly criminal planet of Tatooine. Finally tiring of the males and of the staring eyes, Kia’ra at last withdrew from the dancing floor, actually drawing some boos and hisses from the watching crowd. She almost forgot the chain about her waist, but was quickly reminded of it as one of Grakko’s smuggling lackys jerked her to him, smiling the smile of a spaceslug as he looked her over measuringly and expectantly, actually pulling her yet closer to him til his face was millimeters from hers.

Kia’ra had learned not to resist. As long as she complied, she knew that she could keep her tips. “Maybe I should take the spice Grakko owed me out of you,” he said with an unpleasant little smirk. Then he drew in closer, about to do just that when someone ran into the main chamber and yelled, ”Imperials!”

Kiara didn’t think she’d ever seen a smuggler look so horrified in her life. ”Take the droid to my ship!” he whispered, just loud enough for his nearby fellow smuggler...

...and Kia’ra...

...to hear. A couple of that smugglers underlings headed off with the Grakko's old rusty droid immediately, and the smuggler returned his gaze to Kia'ra. “Now, where were we?” he finally asked, stepping in closer, pretending as though there wasn’t a thing wrong in the Palace. And it worked. The Imperials never arrived, but instead passed over. After a few minutes of akward waiting just to make sure, the smuggler began to drag Kia’ra to the dance floor. As he did one of his cronies queried. “Should we retrieve the droid?”

The smuggler shook his head, still gripping Kia’ra’s chain and pulling her out to the dance floor. “No, better leave him where he is...”

He looked back to Shawn. "Grakko's palace isn't too far away. Just over the cliffs to the West. If we move now, we'll get there in no time..."

Didn't wanna be the Jedi around when a cantina full of folks killed so obviously by a lightsaber blade are found. Shawn knew the honest truth concerning that matter...

...or at least he knew the appearances of it. Something deep inside him was hoping that whatever had triggered Loban to react as he did was something more than a turn to the Darkside...

...at least then he wouldn't have been a complete failure as a Teacher.

His greeny-blues refocused on the two parties he was standing with, somewhat oblivious to the fact his mind had wandered at all, for in fact all those thoughts had come within a second's time. Then he simply turned and began to walk in the direction which Paul had indicated, assuming the others would follow.

"I hope you have a plan to get this information concerning the Hutt corruption...?" he queried over his back as he continued to move forward, "After all, I have a feeling your Hutt pal won't be too happy to see you again..."

I've got a ship that can get us all off-planet, and if you're good I might let you in it, she thought to herself with a little snort. Her hand twitched, aching to grasp her blaster, but she refrained and settled with hooking the thumb of her shooting hand into the belt upon which it was holstered.

...a small storage locker with all her credits and a few dancing costumes. Aside from that Kia'ra Roch'ella didn't own anything else, not even a bed, for she usually spent the evenings either dancing or performing the aforementioned services for various club patrons. And Kia'ra knew Grakko's death meant little in regards to a change in her current station; there wasn't anything else she could do, wasn't anywhere else she could go.

And there was always a bar of drunks looking for someone pretty to make them feel big and important, so even if Grakko's palace happened to go down in his death, there were other places of "employment."

She'd get by.

Returning then to the dance floor, Kia'ra began to dance once again, her mind and her heart dulled to that thing which she had to do to survive. Still, a portion of her mind was inquisitive, and something kept sticking in there and waving around curiously.

There was regret in his voice, as Paul wished he could've done the honors himself. But the droid would do just fine.

"Speaking of which...I recommend we move faster. The Empire will undoubtedly search his palace."

As he finished, both Jedi quickened their pace, followed closely by Minna Manth. They left the burning remains of Mos Eisle, and after traversing over several rock formations, were in sight of Grakko's home.

The palace was smaller than the usual Hutt's: it still retained a round shape, but was much shorter, only two times taller than the Mos Eisley cantina.

There were no guards; just dead bodies and destroyed speeders. Paul frowned at the carnage and looked down into the sand.

"Stormtroopers definetely," he said, staring at the footprints. "This is the same way they left too...wonder why they didn't use a transport..."

...or perhaps these guards were already dead when they got here. After all, someone killed Grakko, and I wouldn't jump straight to the Imperials based on the circumstantial evidence, especially not with this other strange attacker."

Shawn quieted for a moment then, frowning himself at the carnage. "Come to think of it, the fatal blows don't look much like something from a blaster..."

Again he paused, looking up from the dead bodies to the palace entrance ahead. "The only way we'll find out anything is if we just go."

With nothing further than that then, Shawn headed towards the palace entrance and into what seemed to be a strangely active entertainment lounge...

...cover up...?

...where they were blinded by lights and color...

...and met with some curious stares, both from smugglers and the dancing girls in the room. Shawn turned to Paul, arching an eyebrow, keenly aware that he didn't see one droid of any kind in the main room.

He shot a look to the other Jedi that read What next? and waited.

Gradually his snores came to an end, and their was all near silence in the cockpit, only the sound of his body rustling against the leather seat broke the hush. It was a true serene scene, no matter how much he was uncomfortable with his dwelling in an Imperial ship. He had never come to accustom such dark things, but after some travel he knew complaining wouldn't solve anything, other than drill away at his every-lasting patience in the expedition.

Beep!

It was a sudden sound roaring like acklay through the cockpit, as the heated red light flashed repeatidally along with it. The simple annoyance of the actions awoke him, with the sound putting the annoyance up a level to a small temper.

"Just when I was--", Lumbia groggily said, cutting himself, when activating the holomessage that had clicked off the alarm sequence. Leaning back in the leather chair, he relaxed as he took in the blue, minimized man who had began to talk. He was of the Quarren species and pretty tall, with smuggler garments, made to conceal weaponary or items.

"Hello, Lumbia, nice doing buisness with you." The Quarren began, his waving to gesture a welcome to the buisness of the man.

"So, you want the Illum crystal, well I have managed to attain it, as well as the others items you asked me to." The smuggler attired man said, his tone becoming more assertive.

"Now you will come to Tattonie!." The holo diminished, but not before the commandive words sent a shockwave in the Force, with the Jedi jumping back as the future actions transpired in his head.

Then it was an eery silence, followed by the raging screams of the control panel, the hyperspeed being deactivated, and reactived to go toward Tattonie. It was placed on a certian coordinate on the planet, and with every action Lumbia tried, he couldn't deactivate or override the hacking assault.

I shouldn't have opened that holomessage. The Jedi though, remembering the abnormal sensation he had when he placed his finger on the switch to get the message.

It was only a few minutes later when the ship exited hyperspace, entering a mode of auto-pilot as it came crashing down onto the sands of Tattonie. Banging against the ground, the explosion was of horrific stature. A body flying fleeing from the fire created with a visable green aura placed about him.

Landing down with a sense of ease, the silhouette figure ventured forward toward it. Heading into the active haven, he searched for what had sent him falling into the peril of the Tattonie day.
5 minutes after...

The brown haired man glanced over his shoulder as he walked through the crowd, watching the door open to show three figures, shadowed by the day.

"Hmm...Maybe those are the people.." He thought aloud, his eyes squinting to register their features.

"I..."

Was not expecting this!

He looked to the other Jedi. "This doesn't make sense. Grakko's dead...this shouldn't..."

"HEY!" the shout cut him off. One of the smugglers, a heavy sort with scars criss-crossing his face, stepped towards the Jedi, waving a blaster around like a toy.

"Ain't ye Paul Arrakeen?" he asked. Behind him, his lackeys flocked together with their weapons drawn.

The Jedi sighed and gave a slight nod with his head. "Yes."

"There be a price on ye head..."

That damn Hutt!

Paul felt a tinge of anger towards the creature, but it quickly backed down as realization came.

"Grakko's dead. That makes the bounty obsolete." Paul told them. The smuggler simply chuckled and scratched at one of his cuts.

"Ain't from the Hutt. The Forellian family's been gunnin' after ye ever since ye whacked their father..."

Paul frowned and glanced at Shawn slightly. "It was...one of Grakko's jobs he sent me on..."

And damn ashamed of it too.

Suddenly, the group started advancing on them. Paul backed up, and looked to Shawn.

It was a cool breeze, as soft and loving as the tones of the Sullustian playing in the background, yet feeled with the aura of danger with its intertwining with the hot rays of the blazing sun.

His body not a 100 percent from the previous altercation with his ship, he relied on the ability of the force. Throwing his hand forward, he pushed the smuggler-looking being backward, his scarred body being thrown against the floor. It wasn't something that would injure him physically, but it would make a larger gap between the men who had entered, as well as hurt the smuggler's ego.

"Everyone move back, this is not a time for a squabble or bickering. Just go about your buisness.." The unoffical Jedi commanded in a soft, but strong tone. Looking about him, he watched as they responded, some doing as he had asked, while the others stubbornly rebelled to the plead.

Lumbia sighed, his hand being ran over his eyes as he glanced over his shoulder, staring at 3 being crew that had came in. Smiling at them, as his composure became more calm, he turned himself. The curly haired warrior began, his posture becoming more casual, though his force sensitivy was intuned on the actions behind him.

There she made herself into a blotch against the dark... but a blotch with a blaster in hand which was aimed with deadly accuracy. Indeed, she had almost squeezed off a shot... almost... when the new jedi came romping in to join the fray, sending the lout flying backwards with a simple force shove.

Minna didn't relax her stance one iota. She merely hunkered more closely against the stone, her blaster aimed to cover should it be necessary, and watched as the lout's fellows milled about amongst themselves, growling like rancors with sour stomachs. It was as if they were wanting to rip the jedi into tiny pieces, but being aware that there were not just one but three force users present gave them momentary pause, as if to regroup their stategy.

Jedi? Here in Grakko's Palace, of all places...?

She shot an indigo-eyed look in the direction of those three jedi. The short one and the dark-haired one weren't familiar...

...but Arrakeen she recognized. After all, she'd been chained to Grakko's side when he'd done his dealings with the Hutt. The Jedi hadn't so much as batted an eyelash in her direction...

...but then the truth of the matter was that Jedi were like everybody else. They cared for their own and for the common person, but didn't give a damn about a worthless slave girl.

Kiara jerked herself from that slight diversion, focusing her indigo eyes upon the scene once more, curiosity filling her as the smugglers and the jedi stood, each waiting for the other to do something.

Kiara frowned again. First these lunatic smugglers hide a rusty old droid from the Imperials...

...and now a trio of Jedi randomly show up on the scene, in a Hutt's Palace of all places?

Arrakeen showing up was one thing. But the fact he'd showed up with these two other guys...

Kiara's indigo eyes grew even more quizzical. Wonder if Grakko's finally being called in for all the smuggling and underworld activity he's done?

Too bad he's dead and probably carried all the information regarding those activities with him to the grave...

He'd never seen the guy in his life.

All the while he was reaching out with the Force and assessing his surroundings, keenly aware of the waves of regret washing from Paul...

...as well as of the pair of extremely curious eyes upon them. Granted, there were people and creatures gaping at them from all corners...

...but these eyes...

Shawn finally turned to Arrakeen, the look in his eye all but actually saying, If you've got a Plan B, I'd love to see it. If not, start making one.

Then he turned once more and surveyed the small crowd of smugglers and Palace patrons. That's when he finally identified the being who had been staring at them so inquisitively.

She's one of Grakko's slaves... he thought, directing it to Shawn. I don't know her personally.

Paul noticed the group of smugglers clustered around her, and an idea struck him. Grakko would definitely hide the droid as much as possible from the eyes of others...but he always kept his personal slaves close to him. What if one of these slaves knew where the droid was?

If he wasn't determined to keep his composure, the Jedi would have smacked himself in the forehead. Quickly, he came up with a plan...

Stay here... he thought-spoke to Shawn, knowing to keep his plan as secret as possible. And watch my back. As for him... Paul looked at the other Jedi, whose presence certainly caused several of the patrons to back off.

He'll come with me.

The Jedi began to walk forward, and motioned with his hand for the newcomer to follow. He quickly moved up beside Paul as the group of smugglers dispersed in front of them.

They've already seen how strong he is...

That and the bore of her blaster, which was still zeroed between Ol Ugly's beady red eyes.

Then the parameters altered a bit as after a bit of whispering two of her companions began moving forward toward a simpering Twi'lek, the creeps and louts scattering before them like flies. She snorted with derision, and blinked.

Gotcha covered, although this looks like a piece of cake....

Still a blotch amongst shadows, she remained utterly unseen as her blaster moved mere centimeters... and came to a rock-solid stop centered smack between the Twi'lek's twining lekku.

The galaxy had changed much, and Jedi just weren't as pure as they were before the crash of the Republic with the assault of the Imperial. Looking down into his palm which held all the scars of time, he with held a calm deamnor, but trusthworthy, cheerful smile on his face.

"My name is Lumbia Whitfield, if you think I'm a Jedi--I'm not. Just a man trained in the force, trying to make a new path to the Jedi Order, or to rebuild it." The man knew he had revealed alot, it seemed to even suprise him with the widening of his eyes, but refrained from showing too much more of suprisment, or shock. He knew a Jedi wouldn't understand more about themselves, as well around them, and doing what he did wouldn't be respective to the path he was seeking.

A Jedi, hmph--A dream. He thought to himself, staring down at his waist, which once was wrapped it's leather arms around his lightsaber.

"Do you know how I can get a lightsaber?" He asked, putting his tone more secretive & concern, though his voice was in whisper level.

After he spoke, the sudden rustle crept in the mind of Lumbia. He felt the intensity of the one he push grow, the scarred smuggler was angered. The emotions had rised to the peak, his pride being scarred worst than his face, and it was to be used for combat.

The sudden clanking of feet ran through the crowd rapidily, heading toward the two force-sensative warriors. The scarred face figure reached for his E-11 Blaster Rifle, prepared to attack.

Alerting the crowd with a gesture of his swinging arm, they backed out the scene of the attack. His mind wandered though he was so commandive, he wondered mostly how he would deal with it, and the selection varied.

I can't kill him, but how will I stop him without hurting someone in this crowd. He though, knowing that the if he pulled the weapon with the force as he did previously, it would hit someone who was moving out the way.

The thought flicked briefly through her even as she saw the smuggler approaching fast, blaster drawn to attack.

Now, this would never do....

The movement was a mere extention of thought as her own blaster moved a fraction... her finger flinched reflexively as the setting changed... and the lout fell on his face, stunned.

The sensation was similar to a vibration, but it only accured in the back of his head. Switching his eyes confusedly to the side, beckoned by an unknown command, that came in the globe known as his mind. A frown grew upon his face as he suddenly glanced back to inspect what had happened to the attacker.

The scarred face figured being lay there, motionless on the floor with his temple opened by a laser bolt. The heat ripped through his very skull, leaving his dead.

...then proceeded to head in her direction. She wasn’t too surprised when one of the smugglers...

...in fact, the very smuggler who had taken her as his personal “servant” only a little while ago, the smuggler who had spoken so strangely of that old droid...

...ran up to try and stop the Jedi from approaching her, his E-11 blaster aimed for attack. She was suprised, however, when a blaster bolt from nowhere nailed him, and he crumpled to the ground, dead. She, along with several other Palace patrons and inhabitants, glanced in the general direction of the shot, but no one found anything.

What the...?!

Kia’ra redirected her alluring indigo eyes to the Jedi who were still fast approaching once more, her mind spinning.

They want something besides the “services” you provide Kia’ra...unless, of course, they are DARK jedi...

She couldn’t help a small frown at that. This place was getting a touch too strange for her taste. How she missed Rhyloth...

That thought prompted inspiration. Milk this one for all it’s worth, Kia’ra... a little voice whispered. She refocused her indigo eyes upon the Jedi, the small frown on her face shifting to something very sad...

...and it wasn’t much of an effort for Kia’ra to play the part, for in fact it wasn’t much of a part at all. Deep inside, Kia’ra knew it was the truth. ”May I help you?” she whispered softly to them then, batting those seductive indigo eyes...

...and waiting to see just what these jedi wanted from her, a mere slave girl, of all people...

Finished answering his question, Paul approached the Twi'lek until he was standing about a few feet away from her and started looking her over. To the bar's patrons (and probably the Jedi) it seemed like he was checking her out, but Paul was just trying to sense any hidden weapons...

If there is a bounty on my head, the last thing I need is a slave girl running a poison needle into my back he thought.

Paul coughed after he was done, and began to detect the Twi'lek's emotions at the situation.

This might be a little tougher than I thought...

He also noticed a small bruise on her left cheek.

Recent too...one of the smugglers must've worked her over...

"Grakko the Hutt kept an interpreter droid with him," Paul finally spoke, keeping a calm and cool tone over his more nervous one when talking to women, "It was very old, rusty, and barely spoke an understandable word. It's practically worthless. However, a few people sitting in chairs of a very powerful group seek this droid, and sent me here to retrieve it."

Paul was careful not to imply what the droid contained as it might spark the interest of other would-be criminals, and he was also careful to not mention the Empire considering he was unsure where the other Force-user's loyalties lie...

He crossed his arms before he continued. "You're one of Grakko's personal slaves. I need to know where that droid is."

I hope he doesn't think getting information from me is gonna be THAT simple, Kia'ra mused.

Then in a stealthy little move she reached out and took the Jedi's face in one of her hands, pulling it close to her. For all the palace patrons, it simply looked like she was making a pass at him. And that's precisely how she intended it to look.

"It'll cost you," she whispered softly in the Jedi's ear, the ends of her lekku reaching around to tickle the back of his head...

...and covering the movement of her lips should anyone be able to read them. "In exchange for information...my freedom. First and final offer..."

Whitfield's eyebrows arced downward, pressing against his eyes, as a snarl slipped its way upon his lips. Taking a step forward, he pushed her back from the new aquantited Force-user, staring the man dead in the eye.

"You shouldn't give her anything, we shouldn't trust these people in the first place." Lumbia began franatically, but kept his an overtone in a whisper.

Sighing as he took a pause, he glanced over his shoulder at the Twi'lek, his eyes intensified to justify his seperation of the two. He didn't like her, and he didn't like this idea at all.

"If we give her anything we could run into an altercation witht hese thugs around us, who don't seem to enjoy our company in the first place." Lumbia explained, emphasising his statement with a swing of his eyes to expose who was around them once more if Paul had forgotten.

Though he wasn't a Jedi, he knew what a Jedi would do, and he seeked to gain that point. Going into irrational situations wouldn't help any of the three no, it was four, he remembered the person Paul had hinted early. Frowning as he stepped back, releasing his strong grip of Paul's arms, gazing over his shoulder at the girl.

"So, you must think us Jedi are mental intiates, no smarter than Imperial Stormtrooper force." He said, his head motioning in a shake.

With that she leaned back, something pained flitting through the depths of her eyes as she turned her gaze back to Paul, keenly aware that somewhere in the background, the shorter Jedi...

..his aura calm and completely expressionless...

At that, he stepped away from Lumbia and approached the slave girl. And don't worry, Shawn he thought to the other Jedi in an attempt at reassurance, I know what I'm doing...

Paul placed his hands behind his back as he spoke to the Twi'lek. "I have to apologize for my friend's behavior. Understand, these are trying times for the Jedi Order, and we're not as trusting with others as we were before. However, that does not mean we will ignore your plight."

She shoved that particular thought to the side, and decided to play along for the moment. "My name is Kia'ra," she answered. "Kia'ra Roch'ella."

She fell silent at that, a small part of her pointing out the fact that usually after she'd divulged this information to a male the next thing that happened resulted in payment, so long as services rendered were acceptable.

At least now.. He thought, observing, and taking in the area once more, wondering of anyone would think of an attack.

They all just seemed to go about their buisness to his suprise, but in this galaxy it seemed like intruding on Jedi buisness had began to be the most stupidest idea possible. Confronting one on violent means could lead to the most dire injuries. The remainer of Jedi's and new blood had began to be more aggressive, and Lumbia felt they were on the wrong path of the Jedi.

Yet, he also felt he was one of those people, throwing off the wrong philosophy of a Jedi. He seemed too human, for his own standards, and he had always solemnly picked at himselfs in the sollitude of the Force cage.

Though it was a good time in some aspects, it was a dark time. Filled with introvent turmoil, and intelligent enhancements. The times were weird in that cage, but it was a terrofying eeriness that he didn't want to expirence once more, though his care for the Imperial Order didn't waver a hint during his time in, just became more Jedi justified.

Noticing he was looking into his palm as he came back to reality, he quickly looked up, directing his attention back to Kia'ra Roch'ella.

"Where are you from Mrs. Roch'ella." He said in a more pleasant mood than previous, trying to enlighten her persipective on him.

Moments later, and she was a wisp of a shadow against the dunes.

Coming to a clear spot, she opened a private channel on her comm-link, and raised a tiny ruckus on the opposite end. While she didn't know if the information would be enough to warrant her actually being taken personally from her position, she hoped it would at least be enough to guarantee her the weapons upgrade Tarnus had once promised her.

There was a short interchange of words with the young lieutenant who answered her hails... followed shortly thereafter by the tiny image of the grizzled and battle-seasoned General Ahem.

Quickly, her voice all the raspier for the dry winds which skirled the sands about her, she mentioned her past use to the Empire, how her small inputs had aided in the fall of Yavin IV. She was about to go on to her last most recent collection and dispersement of information regarding Tatooine, when Ahem raised a hand, actually smiling at her somewhat.

That smile didn't come close to reaching his eyes.

Quickly, she told him what she had overheard. A rusty droid, being sought after by the Jedi, now numbering three and oh-so-coincidentally converging together in this hellhole. How a particular dancing girl of Grakko's was being interrogated by them, how smuggler-types-aka-henchmen had attacked them without provocation... and lastly, how Grakko himself was dead.

She finally fell into a hopeful silence... and one which she hoped would not be a disappointed one. Ahem remained quiet himself for a bit, apparently mulling to himself before finally answering.

Minna nodded, unable to prevent the small sigh of relief from escaping her lips. She then closed the comm-link and hurried off to where she had berthed Heaven's Forbiddance. Aided by the the most rapid departure vector clearance she had ever received in her career, she burst away from Mos Eisely, soon coming out into the blessed coolness of space.

Moments later she was in hyperdrive, heading to the Imperial shipyards on Ambria, smiling in satisfaction and wondering where Fate would take her next.

((OOC: Minna will be popping up later... somewhere... she always does, she's a spy, you know!))

UPDATE: Minna pops back into play in All the King's Horses in the "Empire/New Republic" forums, thank you.

Damn the ineptitude of the youngsters! he couldn't help but scowl even though he fully knew the level of importance the dustball circling below had in the Grand Priorities List of the Empire... and who was assigned where upon it to serve its needs.

No use crying-- he interrupted himself, now switching over to hail the bridge. The same young lieutenant who had answered Minna's hails popped stiffly onscreen; Ahem waited for him to complete the obligatory salute, which he obligingly replied, before speaking.

"Have there been any ships departing the planet since our arrival, other than Heaven's Forbiddance?" he questioned softly. The young lieutenant scrabbled with his board, turned and barked to an ensign, then after a bit turned hastily back to the general.

"No Sir," he snapped smartly. "None whatsoever. All attempts have been redirected planetward; er... one way or another that is, Sir."

Ahem merely nodded, expecting nothing more unusual than that.

"Hail the Officer on Deck."

There was a brief pause, and a Colonel appeared. Salute... return.

"Tighten planetary perimeters, Colonel," Ahem ordered succinctly. "And send a fresh squadron of our Reborn Investigators to the vicinity of the palace of one Grakko, a Hutt." He paused, a small grin playing about his lips.

"It would appear that the ground troops we had there have been somewhat remiss; there are some of the usual shady types hiding a particular droid which Lt. General Tarnus wishes to have. Oh, and Colonel..."

The Officer on Deck, who had been in mid-salute, paused.

"Inform them that there seem to be three Force users in the palace... one of them sent by Lt. General Tarnus himself. Tell them to keep an eye out, ey? No need for unnecessary... altercations."

He smiled then, and finally dismissed the Colonel with a salute.

With nothing more than that Kia'ra pulled back, but still kept close proximity so as to keep up the ruse that this was merely a seductive exchange between a dancing-girl and a man. Her indigo eyes bored into the Jedi's.

Allright, I've kept my end of this deal. You'd damn well better keep yours...

Heading over to the body quickly after she ended, he seemed by the naked eye to show some sense of anger, but in all truth he just wanted to find out where the body was. His mind was cluttered, so optical observation was the the only thing he could rely on this occasion. Seperating the group that crowded around the body, drinking as they scrutinized, and made notes.

Coming before the body, he kneeled, reaching into the pockets as he heard the chatter continue around him in the crowd, just intensifying with insults, anger and confusion. Wiggling his hands around, he noticed a few weird carved items in. Taking them out, he saw them to be identification cards, and registration cards used for his landing.

Placing the objects in the hide of his cloak, he headed back through the crowd, people pushing and shoving their way directly toward him. Suddenly there were two, standing directly infront of him, sneers written across their face.

"You think your going to get away with our buddies credits and ship." The largest of the two began, his hand gradually motioning ideally toward the blaster fastened to his belt.

Lumbia just watched, his deamnor calm and curtious as humanly possible as they continued on spitting, and insulting him. Then suddenly a blast came Lumbia's way, but before it could hit, he had dodged it and began with a quick reaction. Before the crowd could register the move, the two were on the ground, while Lumbia was still on the path to the group once more.

Coming to a stop behind Paul, he whispered silently into the Jedi's ear.

"I got the smuggler's items if we we're to need them." He began, looking around the little group, taking in every detail with his observation.

"If we are to do anything, it has to be quick, people are getting restless in here because of our inhabitants."

Ryloth is near Tattooine...I'm sure the Imperials can tolerate some delay.

He read over the smuggler's license for his ship, and found out the number for its Docking Bay.

Docking Bay 92.. Paul directed his thoughts to Lumbia and Shawn, letting them know as well.

In the middle of his reading, Paul's vision started to darken. There was a "pop" in his head, and all the noises began to drown out. Soon, there was nothing but silence...

Just like on Yavin...

A second later, his vision lightened and his hearing returned. Paul stood there, stunned and still looking at the smuggler's ID.

He turned towards the other Jedi. "There's something coming. We have to get to that ship...now!"

Paul looked back to the Twi'lek. "If you still want to get out of here, grab your belongings and hurry up."

The shuttle exited hyperspace, several kilometers from a Star Destroyer. It started to accelerate towards its hangar bay...

"Attention Imperial Fleet, this is shuttle Sirus from the Coruscant Home Fleet. Requesting docking permission and contact with Lieutenant..."

"Auldron." Romanus said, sitting in the passenger's seat...and no longer in bonds.

"Lieutenant Auldron." the pilot finished, then waited for a receiver on the other end of the comm unit. Soon, static crackled on it as the nearby Star Destroyer's comm officer responded.

"Receiving that, Sirus. Inquire why crew wishes to see lieutenant?"

Romanus frowned as he leaned forward to help the pilot's reponse. "Just say I'm a passenger, that's all."

The pilot nodded and returned to the speaker. "A passenger sent by Major Tybranis wishes to interrogate him over suspicions of treason."

Romanus groaned and placed a hand over his eyes. Didn't have to say treason, you idiot...

There was a brief moment of silence on the other end, then the comm crackled to life again. "Sirus, shouldn't we contact General Ahem about this?"

"Negative. The Major ordered that our passenger takes care of it himself, and his position is supported by General Tarnus."

"Understood. Hangar will soon be open to you. We'll have the lieutenant sent there under guard. Out."

The pilot switched off the comm and looked back to Romanus. "We'll be docking in a few minutes. Fleet command has given us--"

Romanus waved his hand, cutting him off. "I know. I heard. Just keep flying this thing, and don't say a damn thing to me."

But at the moment, Kia'ra really didn't care how it looked, to be honest. All she knew was that, after the information she had just handily given away, she better get the Hell off this planet...

"I'M ON TATOONIE!" She yelled.

"Hmm.." A murmur crossed the lips of Lumbia as his speed level gradually slowed down, as he placed a hand out, aiming for a response from the female Twi'lek. After a moment of silence between the three beings, the Jedi grabbed her comforting, but still tightly around the waist, continuing his ran.

Reaching his maximuim speed, the group finally reached the destination. The shipyard, with all four of them coming to a slow slide along the sandy foundation. Placing Kiara down to rely on her own strenght, Lumbia refreshed his body with a single sigh. His chest motioned forward, then back down in the process of life. Oxygen filling his body, as a smile come to his face, glancing over at the others.

"So, are we to leave?" He asked, his eyes wandering though his words were clearly directed to the fellow Jedi. It was clear the brown haired paladin was clueless of what ship was theirs and even more confused about the reason for their sudden burst of speed.

In a wait for an answer he situated himself, placing his dark brown robe over his body. Letting the ends drape along the hot dessert ground, as he recalled their run through the hot land, and into the city. It was horrific sight in itself, and to endure the very speed was unbearable. He knew very well that if he was trained in the arts of the force he would have dropped dead on the ground from the heat, along with the throb of contenous movement.

Shawn looked about the docking area and stretched out into his sphere of influence to sense something that seemed entirely dark. Then he reached out into Paul's mind.

There's something dark here.

Thinking nothing more than this, Shawn directed his greeny-blues towards the former Jedi master. They practically read "Hurry up and find that smuggler's ship so we can get out of here..."

With my new Hyperspace Hibernation/Meditation technique that Master Jebbua taught me, space travel seemed so much less time consuming! I knew it had been hours since we departed Coruscant, but it seemed like mere minutes had passed when the all to familliar blinking proximity alert, lit up.

"We have arrived Master, I will follow your lead. I've never been to this particular planet before." I said as I readied my travel gear. Making sure that my Lightsaber was firmly attached to my utility belt.

"Ready when you are Master. DINK, Malf... will you be joining us or will you be waiting on the ship?"

What a dumb question... MALF hadn't eaten in HOURS!!! I threw Malf about 90 credits.

TATOOINE, my home planet... Didn't think I'd ever make it back here.

"You go that way and search for a girl that has brown hair green eyes and bruises or scars or something that looks like that she has been torutered." I said pointing in a direction and then i turned around and pointed in the oppiste direction.

"And i'll go this way. Meet back at the ship in 2 hours. Ok? See you later."

"He's here!"

one of the men walked up to her and then looked at the other men.

"Well, it looks like phase 1 of our trap is already set. Now, you guys start whipping her, so she'll cry out in pain and make her brother madder, which will lead him to the darkside and once he's occuiped rescueing his sister we stun him and then take him to the Imperial shuttle we have waiting and then head torwards Corcasant. Any questions."

none of them men said anything.

"Good, now lets get to work. Oh and don't forget to tape her mouth shut, so she dosen't ruin the suprise."

I had just left a house and on my way to another one when I felt Alexis in pain. I reached out with the force and headed in the direction were it was coming from. I ran down the street, turned right and ran down some steps and saw Alexis tied up with barely any clothes on. Little bits of clothes were on the floor and whip marks were on her body everywhere. I raced up to her and used the force to find where the guys who had done this were, but instead of the force, I got nothing.
Strange. I thought.

Finally, letting out a last gasp for air, the officer collapsed onto the floor. The nearby stormtroopers of the hangar bay did nothing, fully aware of his treachery.

The dart flew off the floor and into Romanus's hand.

"Thanks mates, ya know where your loyalties lie." he said, a crooked smile on his face. The troopers saluted before they dragged the body away.

As soon as they were gone, and business aboard the Star Destroyer continued as usual, Romanus faced the pilots and started walking towards the shuttle.

"Right, now let's take care of some business at Sullust..."

"Ninety-two...ninety-two..." he repeated softly. Though numbered, each bay seemed to be placed in a random set order. Paul believed it was meant to confuse investigators of smuggler ships.

After running between each set of large bay doors, Paul finally reached his number.

"Here it is! I found it!" he cried.

I hope this thing could still fly, Paul thought. Whatever's following us is getting closer...

A guy came up to me and put his weapon on stun.

"Wait, where are we going.?" I asked.

I kept a bead on Master JEBBUA's position, using the FORCE. After about 40 minutes, Jebbua became overwhelmed with excitement. Then he simply Dissapeared! "MASTER!" I yelled. "WHERE ARE YOU?!?"

I began running to his last position.5 minutes of hard running later...

I arrived at this delapitated, shamble of a housing unit, I heard screams inside. I reached out with the force. I could feel one presence faintly, the other I felt somewhat... intermittently, like the person was moving to and from the area. STRANGE?!? I thought.

I still could not sense Master Jebbua. So as per usual, I rushed in without any real preparation. To my horror, I witnessed something not meant to be viewed in a PG13 RP forum. I FORCE PUSHED him off of who I just assumed was ALEXIS. I may have pushed a little too hard, for there was now a blood stain on the wall where he hit. OOPS!!! She fit the description Master Jebbua gave me. Whip marks and all!

"I'm Dash Kelderon, I'm here to rescue you!"

"You're who???" she said.

"I'm Dash Kelderon, I'm here to rescue you! I've got your JAWA, I'm here with JEBBUA DAHUTT."

"They have him! They are taking him to CORUSCANT!!!"

"You wounldn't happen to have any extra clothes would you?"

Alexis looked at the man who saved her. He had blue skin and white hair.

"So, you're a friend of my brother's?"

She looked at him then at herself and blushed. She ran behind a pillar and waited for a reply.

Good--! he mused to himself as he stood at immaculate attention upon the bridge of Sormontato, viewing the combat strategy screen which showed him that his fleet had at last finalized their movement about Tatooine, and were now spaced at carefully plotted equi-distances from each other around the dusty world. He nodded one more time... and raised a black-gloved hand.

"Engage," he said simply, his eyes never leaving the screen.

The Officer On Deck nodded, turned and barked the order. All hands leapt to their stations, activity buzzed...

...and all about the miserable little world of Tatooine, which for some unfathomable reason had been sitting out there in the Outer Rim making such an unusual fuss, a laced tractor beam shield popped up from ship to ship.

The planet was now veritably blocked from any other movement of ships, whether coming in or going out. While two ships had indeed recently left the planet, only one was carrying the official departure code clearances. The other seemed to have somehow slipped past his fleet... he would certainly see to the snoozing officer on watch about that!...

But no more would be this lucky, or that privileged.

General Ahem coughed to himself, nodding again, then turned to deliver the final order that the beam-generating ships be given more than ample cover by whatever "loose" ships he still had in his fleet.

In but moments, it was so.

"I am indeed a friend of your brothers. I am his Padawan Learner, he is teaching my the mysterious ways of the FORCE. Well, at least the GOOD side of it anyway."

"You said that those men are on thier way to Coruscant wiht your brother. I'm going after him, even if I have to blast my way in! Will you be joining me? There is plenty of room on my ship, and a MED-kit with a nice soft bed for you to recover on."

I spoke with several of the 'regulars' they had lots of info on the planet itself. Like which areas to avoid, who is in power these days... apparently there has been a huge power struggle after the death of JABBA the HUTT. I talked to one individual who had the EXACT info I was looking for. An IMPERIAL CODE CLEARANCE. I hope DASH doesn't mind me using his credits to buy it with. I'm sure he is gonna need it, no matter the price!

I left the Blue Asteroid, and went to the local merchants to purcase parts for my inventions. Again I spent the seemingly endless credits in DASH's account.

Alexis walked torwards the door and then looked back at Dash.
Thank you Dash, This day is going better already and to top it all off. He's kinda cute too. She thought.

"Pick any outfit you want."

She hurried through the racks and picked up something she liked. I paid the Droid at the counter, and we continued back to the SHIMMERING SCIMITAR.

We arrived to see DINK, sitting on top of a pile of JUNK, and MALF sitting on the floor surrounded by FOOD! "I guess 90 credits goes a long way on this planet, Hunh MALF?!?"

DINK ran over to me and placed an INFO-chip in my hand. "OOO-TEE-DEE" he exclaimed.

I took Alexis to the cockpit, trying very hard to surpress the pheremones that emit from my body. Oh, those seductive pheremones, they can be a hassle sometimes. But most times they can work in my favour.

"DINK, this is an IMPERIAL CODE CLEARANCE!!! Where did you get this??? THANK YOU DINK!!!" I scooped the little guy up and gave him a hug.

"Off we go, next stop SULLUST!"

I ran the Start-up routine for lift-off, and soon we were in the air. We left the planet's atmosphere, only to be stopped by some type of blockade!

Heading toward the cockpit where Shawn and Paul took their seats, he alerted them on the situation. Lumbia's tongue went quickly, at times changing the very language he was speaking in.

"The dagua--I mean, the Imperial are here." Lumbia said, his eyes moving back quickly to where the Twi'lek sat comfortablly in the back, on one of the beds. Whoever this guy was he lived a luxurious style. Things that would only be expected from a big gambler, and...

At this time, it seemed like they were gambling with all their lives in this haste escape.

Lumbia glared out once again into space, out of the cockpit window, his lips curving to create a frown. He was right, he could feel it through the waver of the force. Turmoil had brewed quickly within the atomsphere over Tattonie, and it had to do with what they had came to this smuggling ship for. Throwing his body limply on the Old Republic Coruscant woven carperts, he stared at the ceiling of the ship.

He could sense that their pursuers had not given up, that even now they are returning to their ships to give chase.

Pau looked ahead of him, saw the vast array of Imperial ships strung out, and quickly pulled back on the throttle.

"Matters not if we can outfly them now..." he said. Less than a few seconds later, the ship shook as it became absorbed into the fleet's massive tractor beam.

Paul looked down on the freighter's sensors, seeing another ship caught in the same situation as they are.

The Jedi considered what Lumbia had said, wondering if the Empire would accept the droid, rusting now in the depths of the freighter's cargo hold, and then destroy them all in a blink of an eye.

They did send those Jedi, or whatever they were, after us...but were they sent to kill us, or...or...aid in our search?

Paul frowned at the thought as such a thing is very unlikely these days.

And there is still Kia'ra...

Figuring that they have no other option, Paul turned on the ship's comm to the first Star Destroyer that caught it.

"Attention Imperial Fleet. This is Paul Arrakeen. I was sent by General Tarnus to retrieve a valuable item for him and the Empire. I would gladly hand it over as long as he still intends to keep his part of the deal..."

"Sir!" he barked before falling into expectant silence.

Ahem's brow quirked. He set his cup of tea down carefully, then folded his hands together on top of his gleaming greelwood desk.

"Something to report, Major?" he inquired calmly. "More... occurrences below us?"

The major tipped his head, and quickly explained the situation, ending with another salute. He whirled smartly, and departed for his place back on the bridge.

Ahem picked up his cup and looked at it a moment. Then he sighed and got to his feet. Soon he was aboard the bridge himself, coming in to a humming scene of controlled activity. He waved a hand as the Officer On Deck snapped to attention, cutting off the obligatory announcement of "General on deck!" as he merely continued moving forward to the board controlling the short-range sensors of Sormontato. He came to a stop behind the lieutenant manning the station, and stood quietly mulling over the incoming sensor data streams which were repeatedly scrolling across the screens. After a moment he cleared his throat, and spoke up.

"I want a visual on both craft, Lieutenant," he ordered, then clasped his hands behind his back as he waited for that order to be carried out. It didn't take long for two images to pop up on the screens; he couldn't help the small sigh as he viewed them.

A strong hand rose to scratch his nose in contemplation. Then--

"Release the freighter, and send a squadron of long-range fighters as escort. That ship is to get to Coruscant without further delay or risk of attack; send the Blackline Wing. They'll make certain it gets there.

"And as for that YT-3000... well.

"Tractor it aboard. Two ships careening together from this dead dustball, and one on special mission for Lt. General Tarnus... I wish to speak personally to this second ship's commander and find out just why it was chasing intently enough to totally disregard and then impact our tractor beam shield."

He fell silent then, then whirled on one heel. In moments he had returned to his ready room, where he seated himself to await the unravelling of further events. He picked up his cup of tea, and frowned.

It was cold.

"Oh, no... we're caught in a tractor beam, I'm gonna have to power down. Everyone into the smuggleing compartments! And MALF, try to keep quiet. I'll be alright, I've got a few tricks up my sleave!"

On that note everyone walked off to the secret compartments in the floor.

"Don't worry Alexis, I'll get you to your brother!!! If it's the last thing I do!"

Then I waited... It seemed to take forever to be 'TRACTORED' into the larger ship.

Or an escort duty...

The Jedi blinked, a little surprised of the certainty of the thought...as if he was almost positive that was going to happen. Paul realized that this may be the Force at work here...

Yet it has been so long since I was able to use it effectively...why now?

The fighters drew closer to the freighter, and though Paul could sense the tension growing in each passenger aboard the ship, he felt his slowly disappear. The squadron was less than a few kilometers away before the old ship's scanners identified the fighter class.

Their weapons are charged...but not fully. And they seem to have hyperdrives...

The cockpit shook again as they were released from the massive tractor beam. The squadron of fighters flew past the ship before coming around again...

"Attention, freighter!" the radio crackled. "This is Blackline Leader. Our orders are to escort you to Coruscant. We're downloading the coordinates to you now..."

Paul leaned forward to flip the transponder switch to respond. "Uh, copy that, Blackline Leader. We'll be jumping shortly..."

Soon the coordinates were entered to the hyperdrive and the countdown began...

Before Paul could jump the freighter into hyperspace, he glanced back to Kia'ra, no doubt disappointed at this turn of events.

"Ryloth will have to wait until this thing is done." Paul said, making a promise he intended to keep.

And I will, too.

The stars merged together into a tunnel of light as the freighter entered hyperspace, with Paul failing to notice the assurance in his thoughts again...

I walked back to the cockpit, and waited for what seemed to be a rediculously long time.

He paused in silence before them. Both sides sized each other up. Then the Squad leader cut his eyes to the Reborn next to him, cut them back to the blue-skinned being they had tractored in. One hand made the merest motion; the blue-skinned being's cloak immediately flipped back, revealing a lightsaber.

"You will not be needing this weapon," the Squad leader said, a somewhat dark tone tingeing his voice. Then he seemed to pause again, lifting his head to actually nose the air like a hunting Noghri.

"There are others present," he said succinctly, a flat look passing across his face. He cut his eyes to the other three Reborn.

"Find them."

He then fell silent as the other three nodded in affirmation, lighting their own lightsabers as they strode up the gangway and entered the interior of the freighter. There they proceeded to make a quick, thorough and altogether successful search; it was nothing for their use of the dark side of the force to lead them directly to the smuggling compartment. With a synchronized wave of their hands the hatches to those compartments flew upwards, striking the bulkheads around them with resounding clangs, and revealing in one compartment the hunkered forms of Dink, Alexis and Malf.

The Reborn made a motion with their lightsabers, indicating that the three depart the ship immediately. They had no choice but to do as instructed; soon all four were together at the foot of the gangway, flanked by the Reborn. The Squad leader waited until all were together, then he turned a flat gaze upon Dash once again.

The sight of these beings was quite unnerving, I didn't want to risk the lives of my friends, so I didn't fight the tug I flet on my LIGHTSABER, as it flew to the squad leaders hand. I'll have to use my wits to get out of this mess. Thank the maker that my friends are still safe!

And on that note 4 Lightsabers ignited around me. I took up my best defensive posture, but they weren't after me, the Squad leader had found MALF, DINK, and ALEXIS, and ordered them retreived.

"There is no need to harm my friends!" I said as calmly as I could. I could tell that I would have to tread very carefully now!

The other 3 beings exited the SHIMMERING SCIMITAR, each with a prisoner at the tip of the LIGHTSABER they carried. "Don't resist them, it will only bring harm your way." I told my friends as we were wisked away. My friends, to a holding cell. And me to the ready room of GENERAL AHEM.

At length he sniffed and spoke.

"Tell me what you were doing pursuing that freighter," he said in a flat tone, reaching for his tea once again. Even though his eyes were arrowed over the rim of his cup directly into Dash's, they somehow conveyed the impression that everyone present in his ready room was under the same hard and unblinking scrutiny.

Taking up another sweetmeat, he popped it into his mouth and fell silent, waiting.

"Well..." I paused to take a closer look at his rank insignea, "General, I have no idea what you are talking about. I'm just trying to get off of TATOOINE in one piece. I only noticed the other ship when I reached your blockade."

I paused again, waiting for a response. None came.

"My name is Dash Kelderon, and the people you are holding prisoner are my friends, and I would appreciate it if we could just be on our way."

I tried to get a sense of his character by using the FORCE, he had a keen intellect, but I decided to try a mind trick on him anyway. I did this as descretely as possible.

All eight eyes stared darkly into Ahem's.

The general seemed to shake himself, his lip curling now as his eyes narrowed. He set the cup down upon its saucer with a little click,, folded his hands and leaned forward.

"Your tricks will not work with me, Jedi," he said softly... but the softness was overlaid upon a note of pure iron.

"And now... you will tell me why you were pursuing that freighter."

"With all due respect General, I have already told you all I know about that freighter. The first time I laid eyes on it was when I got held up by your tractor beam. I give you my word as a JEDI."

If this doesn't work, I'm going to have to turn to the SHADEY side of the FORCE!!! A part of my past I thought I had delt with already... But I could feel the anger coursing through my body. I'll really have to keep my emotions in check to get out of this situation. At that moment, I vowed to myself. NO BLOODSHED! I will not harm any of the ignorant beings on this ship.

"WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME? WHAT HAVE I DONE?" She yelled to thin air.
Then she went to a corner and wept.

"I will keep my own counsel as to that," he replied somewhat harshly, rising to his feet as he did so. He raised a hand to the Reborn in preparation of issuing a command when the door to his ready room slid open, revealing a high ranking Reborn framed therein. The officer saluted smartly before entering the chambers, coming before General Ahem and standing at alert attention.

"The ship has been thoroughly searched, General," he said. "Nothing of great import has been found; she carried standard weaponry and shielding, and is equipped much as we expected with the normal range of smuggling compartments, but all seem empty and she does appear to be no threat."

He paused to turn his head and send a knowing gaze into Dash's eyes.

"I had the compartments filled and sealed per your command, General," he finished with, a sly look passing briefly across his face before he sobered. "We found a great many, er-- odds and ends, Sir; these were confiscated as were all hand weapons. There are a couple which were unknown to us; we are analyzing them now. I also thoroughly disabled the ship's primary and secondary weapons; she will need more than a casual refit to regain these. Although she was no threat to begin with, she certainly is less of one now, Sir."

The general nodded, then waved a hand. Immediately all five Reborn present stiffened, closing their eyes as they sensed out with their combined Force talents, searching, seeking... while they could not of course actually "read" Dash's mind, in combination they could quite easily sense his emotional state... oftentimes a good indicator of what is really going on in someone's mind. At length they loosened their stances a bit, and the officer facing General Ahem spoke up with a salute.

"There is no indication of deception in this one, General," he announced. "We do detect something rather of a certain... kinship with us, but it is not of any concern or threat. Sir."

General Ahem nodded, slowly sitting down and taking up his tea once again. He raised it to Dash.

"You and your party are free to go," he said in dismissal. "But let me warn you to take a care as to which worlds you choose to travel to. I would not recommend Coruscant; oh yes. Be aware that your ship's identification signature is in our files now; we will know if you try to so much as approach the Core worlds.

"I'd stay safely in the Outer Rim if I were you."

His lips curled as he smiled, but that smile did not come near to sparking in his eyes. Then he brought the teacup to his lips and took a sip, seeming to ignore everyone present as the Reborn stiffened, saluted, moved to flank Dash, and paraded him from the ready room. But though his eyes were vague and he appeared to be enjoying his tea, his every focus was upon the departing C'hiss.

"General" I said as I looked back.
"I thank you for our passage from this world. I'm sure the EMPIRE will rise to it's greatness once again, with individuals such as yourself in charge!"

"And General, I applaud your wisdom in letting us go! Just one more thing. Upon entering my ship... I wish to have my LIGHTSABER back. Will you arrange this for me as an act of good will on the part of the EMPIRE and all of it's returning glory?"

He folded his hands upon his desk.

"Hello Dash this is Jebbua, don't worry about me i'm fine. I'm on Sullest where I will be for a few days, so I hope you get this message before I leave, but if I do leave i'll send another message to let you know.
Jebbua out."

Alexis smiled with happiness.

Jebbua is ok, but how did he get to Sullest? I thought he was going to Corcasant with those guys. She thought.

She sat in the co-pilot seat and waited for Dash to come back.

I turned and entered my ship. I looked around inside. What a mess! I thought. I walked to the front of the ship to see Alexis in the co-pilot chair.

"Well, I got US out in one peice, the ship on the other hand..."

"We can always pick up a new or used ship somewhere! The important thing now is finding Master JEBBUA. Let's get out of here before they detain us any further!"

On that note I expertly piloted my half dimantled ship out of the hangar, and blasted off into space.

"You all seem to be in one piece, were you misstreated in any way?" I asked Alexis.

She looked at Dash.

"Thanks Dash. I don't know where i would be without you."

Alexis got up and started to walk out of the cockpit.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that Master JEBBUA is alright! Next stop SULLEST..." I paused. "We can resupply there, I hope. What was it you.... never mind. I'll let you get some rest."